#Twelfth time’s luck!

[claraoswalds]

#mrs flood who are you: time lord edition

[prythianpages]

Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | You're hopelessly devoted to Azriel, suspecting he’s your true love. Meanwhile, Eris is hopelessly longing after you. aka Eris being your mate but you're too infatuated with Az to notice.

warnings: slight angst, reader being a bit delulu

*also disclaimer that I am no expert in astrology and my knowledge is usually what I gathered from friends or tiktok so if I'm wrong, please correct me but do it nicely pls bc I am sensitive lol*

a/n: I wasn't sure whether to include Az or not in the pairing but I liked the idea of leaving this fic up to your interpretation. Anyway, happy reading! <3

As you entered the Night Court’s observatory, you traced your fingers along the edge of the great celestial map laid before you. You could feel the soft hum of magic beneath your fingertips, still smell the faintest hint of sage–a remnant of your father’s last ritual here. For centuries, your father has served as the Night Court’s astrologer. He’s guided and advised High Lord Rhysand and on occasion, Keir, the steward of the Court of Nightmares.

Above you, constellations and planets danced across the domed ceiling, the stars gleaming as though they were ready to whisper secrets just for you. You took a deep breath, centering yourself, and placed a palm flat against the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. It began to glow, a warm golden light tracing symbols of the zodiacs and planets.

“Stars above and stars below, reveal the path I seek to know,” you quietly murmured.

The markings on the wheel shifted in response, aligning and realigning with clicking sounds, the warm golden light following. Then, your own chart had appeared, shimmering above you. It was a translucent web of stars and planets connected by silvery lines. You’ve read your birth chart many times, become so familiar with it that you knew it by heart even.

But tonight, you needed the extra reassurance. So you looked up, watching as the planets moved slowly. Your heartbeat a little faster as you spotted Jupiter making transit through your seventh house. The promise of growth, abundance, luck and most important of all, love filled the air. 

You slipped a small vial from the hidden pocket of your cobalt blue dress. The words Love Potion No.9 gleamed on the glass, the dark red liquid swirling. It was the enchanted perfume you’d bought from a witch last week—a little love potion designed to make you irresistibly alluring to your soulmate.

You felt a bit foolish, seeking a witch for guidance on love of all matters. Witches were frowned upon in the Court of Nightmares, after all. But impatience had finally nudged you to venture beyond the court’s dark mountain and into the surrounding forests, in search of someone who could help.

“Seek the one who walks between light and shadow with a mask of cool indifference, where fire meets the edge of night. There your heart shall find its match,” she had told you as she handed you the enchanted perfume.

Her words had only confirmed what you had been suspecting for years, centuries even.

Azriel was your soulmate. 

Azriel, the very embodiment of cool indifference, wore a mask of stoicism in the Court of Nightmares, just as High Lord Rhysand did. But his hazel eyes always seemed to burn with a hidden fire. And when you were alone with him, away from the cold nobility of the Night Court, Azriel would let that mask slip, revealing a kinder side that laughed and smiled with you. He was your friend and not only did he literally walk among shadows, he wielded them. It had to be him!

And then, there was your birth chart. Your seventh house lay in Taurus—a sign ruled by Venus. With Venus positioned in your twelfth house, everything pointed to the idea that your future soulmate would bring your happiness and pleasure. And since you met Azriel all those years ago during a counseling your father led, happiness had been an emotion you'd grown more familiar with.

The stars couldn’t have given you a clearer message!

**

There was a flutter in your stomach as you approached Azriel. The two of you had been stealing glances at one another, as you usually did anytime you found yourselves in the same place. He looked as beautiful as ever. As dreamy as ever. 

Though your High Lord and High Lady had moved to the center of the ballroom for a dance, he had stayed by the dais. “Hello,” you greeted him with a small smile.

Azriel turned to you, that mask of his slipping for just a brief moment to smile back at you. He took the extra wine glass in your hold, murmuring a small thanks. He turned his head back to the dance floor, attentive to his High Lady’s whereabouts. But he shifted closer to you, the coolness of his shadows caressing your bare arm and you couldn’t help but wonder if the perfume was working.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Thanks.” A blush rose to your cheeks. You’d taken care to match your dress to the exact shade of his siphons. And he noticed. “So do you.”

“I wear this all the time.” Azriel replied drily, referring to his usual Illyrian leathers.

“Yeah, I know.” You cursed yourself inwardly for the awkward response, then shifted closer, leaning toward him. “Do I smell to you?”

Azriel paused, his shadows brushing close, as if curious themselves. “No,” he said after a moment.

“Oh.” Disappointment seeped into your voice despite your best efforts, and his gaze shifted to you, a hint of a frown in his brows.

“Do you want to smell?”

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a subtle quirk of his lips. You shook your head, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "No. I just wanted to know if I smelled any…different…,” and then, in a much quieter tone, you murmured, “to you.”

Azriel considered your words. He looked to you in what seemed like permission. You gave a nod of your head and he leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You smell the same to me.” At the breath you let out, he quickly added: “which is good by the way. You smell nice.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly, the flutter you had felt in your stomach earlier twisting into a knot. 

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Azriel asked softly.

“Yeah, I just thought—” You stopped, not sure how to explain without sounding foolish. It wasn’t like you could admit to feeling disappointed over the lack of reaction from an enchanted perfume you’d spent quite a fortune on. Especially when he was the sole purpose for it. Had the witch scammed you?

Azriel waited for you patiently, concern flashing in his eyes. Maybe the perfume hadn’t worked, but the stars and planets had never led you astray. That still had to mean something, right? 

“I’m fine.” You finally said.

“Are you sure?”

The way he was looking at you had warmth creeping up your neck and settling deeper in your cheeks. “Yeah.”

A single shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and in the blink of an eye, his head turned. Your gaze followed his, to where Rhysand and Feyre were standing. Rhysand sent him a slight nod and with a sigh, Azriel returned it.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Azriel said, quickly downing the remaining wine from his glass.

You held out your hand, offering to take it for him.

“Thank you. I’ll be back. Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

You watched Azriel disappear into his shadows before turning away from the dais and making your way to the refreshments table. You were eager for a refill on your glass. Perhaps a little more wine would help ease the sting of disappointment. But he’d said he’d be back, hadn’t he?

As you scanned the room, you noticed your father in conversation with one of Keir’s sons and your mother eyeing potential suitors for your older brother. As an elite warrior of the Darkbringers, he had no shortage of admirers, and it was only a matter of time before your mother secured him a match—perfect or not.

You suspected you’d be next on her matchmaking list, so you busied yourself with small talk among familiar ladies. Conversations were always a mind-numbing, the ladies your age exchanging beauty tips that centered around the male’s eye or fawning over this season’s most eligible males. Which this season just so happens to be your brother. Gross. If only they knew him the way you did….

Second to him was Bret—or some equally uninspiring name. A Scorpio, of all things, which clashed miserably with your chart. Not that it mattered. You had no interest in any noble of the Court of Nightmares. Or any male here. Most, if not all, were cruel and narcissists, only viewing females as child bearers and nothing more. 

There was a reason why this court was burdened with the title “Nightmares.”  And to marry someone from here would mean never waking up from this darkness. No stars to light your night skies, only endless shadow and despair.

So, you’d taken fate into your own hands. You’d turned to your birth chart, hoping the stars would lead you somewhere beyond Hewn City, beyond this never-ending nightmare. And they had. They led you to believe it was Azriel. Azriel, who was not only honorable and single but also, technically, part of the Court of Dreams. He’d been your friend for centuries, seeing you for who you are rather than an object or prize like most males here. 

As you sneak away from the conversation, you bump into something–someone. Behind you, a deep voice huffed a low, mocking chuckle. “Easy there, librarian.” 

You could recognize that voice anywhere, could recognize the heat radiating from him. It pressed down on you, leaving you simmering with irritation.

“I’m a libra, not a librarian.” You bit out. It hasn’t even been a minute and already you were exhausted by the searing presence behind you. “And besides, to you, it’s Lady Y/N.”

When you turned, you found Eris looming over you. His amber eyes gleamed with a familiar, infuriating mischief. He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that made his sharp features all the more arrogant. “Such a harsh tone. Hardly fitting for a Lady.”

Your gaze hardened into a glare, only to have it stray toward a movement across the ballroom.  A flicker of shadow caught your attention, and your heart gave a small, hopeful jump as your gaze softened. There he was—Azriel.

He had returned to the ballroom…but he hadn’t returned to you…

Eris raised a glass to his lips, amber eyes flicking lazily between you and Azriel. “Disappointment doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” You muttered hastily.

He gave a scoff, his smirk widening with dark amusement. “Please. I can practically feel it.”

“Liar,” you shot back. 

“Azriel said he’d find me again and unlike you, he’s a male of his word,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Eris this. “He’s…”

Your words trailed off as you watched Azriel, who stood next to Nesta and Elain. He laughed–actually laughed!-- at something Elain had said, shadows absent from his frame as his focus remained solely on her. You couldn’t miss the soft smile playing on his lips, nor the warmth in his gaze. Did he do that with every female he knew? You thought he reserved that just for you…

The bubble in your chest slowly deflated.

“Keep dreaming,” Eris huffed out. He seemed to take special pleasure in your reaction. It prompted your cheeks to flush but this time, with irritation.

“Oh, go away, you prick,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?" he replied, leaning closer, his sharp gaze burning into you. You missed the flash of longing in his amber eyes, too focused on Azriel. Or the way the words that had been on the tip of his tongue faltered as your scent suddenly overwhelmed him, his breath hitching slightly.

 "You smell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled absently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice gruff and pupils flaring. “You smell different tonight…good...”

You blinked, barely processing his words. Was he actually being nice to you? In all the years you’ve known him, he’s always had snark remark after snark remark for you. The way it would roll smoothly off his tongue always left you wondering if he’d rehearse them for his visits to the Court of Nightmares. 

You fidgeted, fingers grazing your wine glass as you cast a hesitant glance back at Azriel. Your chest tightened as he remained engrossed in conversation with Elain. Turn around, please. But he hadn’t even looked your way once. 

Eris stepped in front of you, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze roamed over you, your dress. He took in the shade and he knew why you had chosen it–and for whom.  "You know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face.  "Red suits you far better.”

“And there he is, you’re back…”

"I’m serious. This—" He gestured to your gown with a slight grimace, his fingers brushing the silk fabric in disappointment. "This color washes you out. Red would bring out the color of your eyes…”

Your jaw clenched but you remained silent, refusing to admit that his words stirred something within you. Eris was insufferable, arrogant, and yet you couldn't deny his eye for detail. He, after all, was always dressed impeccably in the finest Autumn attire. But you would never give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

His smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Do you want to know another thing?”

“No,” you said immediately.

But he leaned in anyway, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re hopelessly devoted to a male who doesn’t even look your way.”

Your mouth opened, brows furrowing in protest, but he went on. His smirk softened, fading into a half-smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes, dimming the fire that usually burned so brightly there. And then, in a much quieter, reluctant tone, he murmured, “And I am no different, it seems.”

"But…" You stammered, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Azriel. "He does look my way…sometimes.”

Eris’s smile faded, his expression tightening. A flicker of pain crossed his face. So brief, you almost thought you imagined it.  "You’re delusional.”

“And you’re insufferable.” You scoffed, heart pounding.

“Better than being a fool.” 

The mocking tone was there but the usual sharpness had been softened by a strange, subtle sadness. Was this… pity?

You swallowed, lifting your chin defiantly. “The stars wouldn’t lie to me,” you said, though the conviction in your voice wavered. “He’s the one for me.”`

You met his eyes then and Eris held your gaze. His amber eyes warm and molten, the intensity of his stare prickling at your skin. An unsettling flutter erupted in your stomach, rising to your chest. A feeling you quickly dismissed when you felt something cool brush against your arm.

“Is he bothering you, y/n?”

Eris scoffed at the sudden presence beside you. It sickened him to see that sweet, adoring look on your face, the triumphant gleam in your eyes as you looked up at Azriel. The sight made Eris grit his teeth. His instincts roared at him, the fire in his veins was scorching.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze, realizing both males were waiting for your answer. “No,” you said but the way you shifted to stand behind Azriel said otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze hardened as he looked toward Eris. “Stay away from her,” he seethed.

A low growl rumbled from Eris’s chest as he took a step forward, his amber eyes flaring with rage. Though not as tall as Azriel, he seemed to tower over him at this moment. His teeth flashed as his lips curled into a snarl. “I do not take orders from bastards like you.”

Azriel’s wings tensed, threatening to unfurl and the movement of his shadows quickened. Like a storm ready to unfold. But before it could, you placed a hand on his arm. Right over one of his glowing siphons that seemed to be growing hotter and hotter, daring to match the fire coursing through Eris’s veins.

“Az, don’t,” you told him gently, not wanting to draw any attention to the three of you. You felt his muscles ease under your touch, his shadows brushing over your hand in agreement.

Eris’s gaze dropped to your hand on Azriel’s arm, his expression darkening into something unreadable. He exhaled sharply, turning his head as though trying to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

When he looked back, his features had shifted into his usual cool mask, that infuriating smirk sliding back into place. He looked right at you.

“When you wake up from this deranged dream of yours, come find me.”

You watched him, feeling a strange, unwelcome tug in your chest as he turned to leave. Perhaps, one day you’d realize that the enchanted perfume you had bought was not a scam. 

And that the male you searched through the stars and planets for was not the one standing beside you, but the one who’d just walked away.

a/n: sorry if you're not a libra, I just thought it'd be funny for Eris to purposely say reader's sign wrong as he knows astrology is a huge influence on her.

[series masterlist]

[Eris masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

[sunderwight]

Moshang AU where Airplane transmigrates into a demon NPC from one of the fanservice clans he created, rather than into Shang Qinghua.

So basically, there was a point in time where a lot of PIDW chapters were just Luo Binghe running around propelled by political plots and rebellions from the demon kingdoms, and most of that actually just ended up being Luo Binghe collecting wives with cute animal ears and tails and various abilities that Airplane used all of once and then completely forgot about. They covered the usual bases of the sexy cat girls, sexy fox girls, sexy bunny girls, sexy bird girls with wings, etc, before moving into more, erm, niche animal hybrid demon territory.

Which is all a roundabout way of explaining Cute Hamster Boy Shang Qinghua in his faithful-to-canon clan of Hamster Demons, whose primary skills include cute squeaking noises and digging abilities.

In the process of making his braindead written-in-a-panic-at-3-am "world building" on this front actually function in a real version of the setting, there has got to be a way for the otherwise-unremarkable fanservice demon tribes to actually survive the incredibly hostile environment which Airplane otherwise described, though. Like yeah sure when you're writing a book you can just say in one breath that the demon realms are incredibly brutal and cutthroat, and then in the next that this tribe of bunny girls with no visible skills at self-defense has existed here for thousands of years, but if you actually tried to set that up in some kind of a simulation the bunny girls wouldn't last one year, let alone one thousand.

In that case of Airplane's hamster tribe, their digging skills are so supernaturally prodigious that they are able to construct massive underground fortifications in otherwise hostile terrain. But that still doesn't solve all of their problems, because they still need to acquire food, and for that they mostly do have to go up to the surface. Some of their weakness is mitigated by sheer numbers -- they have a lot of kids to offset the high mortality rate. However, to further increase the survival rates, the hamster demons also try and make contracts with some of the local liege lords or ruling clans whenever they expand into a new territory. In exchange for protection, they send some of their extraneous family members out as servants, to either cement alliances through marriage (that high fertility is helpful and was indeed the crux of Wife #whatever's acquisition in canon) or to work as diggers or even high-level architects.

As the like, twelfth son of the Hamster Demon chieftain, this is Airplane's fate. On the one hand he's highly positioned enough to get an education, and his plot knowledge helps a lot. On the other hand, he's not high enough in the hierarchy to be kept around, so it's either go work for some other clan or else risk his neck doing missions on the hostile and deadly surface. Neither seems great, but Airplane would rather try his luck as a sycophant than a warrior.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on his mood when he thinks about it) when Airplane reaches sixteen years of age, it's around the same time that the Hamster clan's tunnels have expanded towards the Northern Desert. Airplane ends up being part of the "hiii~ pleasedon'tkillus let's be friends~" tribute to Mobei Jun's father.

Mobei Jun's father tosses him to Mobei Jun, so Airplane dutifully latches onto him in order to avoid being eaten by any of the other retainers. Airplane has been educated in various subterranean building skills and is under the impression that he's been given to MBJ in order to build him his own palace or something?

Everyone else assumes that the Hamster demon is a concubine.

Mobei Jun also thinks that's what he's been given, but he's too busy bristling in teenage offense at being given a concubine by his father to actually consider taking Airplane to bed. So when Airplane starts doing other things for him, he just sort of bemusedly lets it happen.

Gradually it becomes apparent that Airplane himself isn't interested in being a concubine. No. Clearly, this Hamster is gunning for future empress of the Northern Desert! How else would one explain all the lengths he's going to not only to win Mobei Jun's favor, but to secure his position and ensure his future rule? The system also wants Airplane to ensure the Abyss plot arc happens in the future, too, which means Airplane helps Mobei Jun win and instigate conflicts against the righteous cultivation sects too.

Obviously, Airplane wants power. Mobei Jun knows that if he gets an heir off of Airplane that will be that, the wily minx will use any children to secure his position, and MBJ is not convinced he could control himself well enough to prevent that sort of eventually. Airplane is fiendishly attractive, and he clearly knows it, and Mobei Jun is not sure if he wants to accept what increasingly seems to be the inevitable. He won't be a ladder for someone else's ambitions! But... as long as Airplane remains loyal to him, he will consider it. Even if Airplane never harbors any true affection for him, and simply considers him a means to an end. If, by the time he ascends the Hamster has not betrayed him or tried to elevate himself by flipping over this uncle's side, or seduced any of his other relatives or any of the highly-placed lords all salivating to steal MBJ's would-be empress, then Mobei Jun will grant his wish and make him the second most powerful demon in the North.

Airplane, meanwhile, just wants a snack and a nap. Maybe if he builds a secure enough fortress and amasses enough of an intelligence network and hoards a few advantages for himself, and figures out how to stop pissing off MBJ, he'll survive long enough to retire. Somehow.

[mytaegiheart]

D-Day, Good Day: A Dirty Shorts Fic

Min Yoongi x Female Reader

Rating: Mature

Prompt: Him: You look good in my hoodie. || You: You know where else I'd look good? || Him: My bed.

Author Note: And so endeth "Dirty Shorts" - unless I think of some new ones.

Story notes: No idea where this was going. I got cavities. Yoongi's blunt as hell.

Is it possible to go through an entire day with a string of continuous bad luck?

If someone had asked you that question just now, you'd answer with a firm and decisive yes.

First – your alarm didn't go off that morning. By the time you woke, you were already an hour late for work.

Second – you forgot to charge your phone the night before and found a dead phone on your night table.

Third – by the time you showered, dressed and got ready for the day ahead, you found 10 phone calls on your home answering machine... all from your very angry boss.

Fourth – your car had 2 flat tires, forcing you to call a cab to get to work.

By the time you made it in, you were 3 and a half hours late.

Needless to say, everyone could hear your boss yelling at you through her closed office door. That was embarrassing.

As if your day couldn't get any worse, the coffee machine in the cafeteria decided to break down and explode coffee all over you, your computer crashed while you were working on an important design for an upcoming fashion show and you got a text message from your long-term boyfriend he was breaking up with you to date your best friend.

By them time you left work, you were ready to just give up and cry.

That was before you realized you didn't have any more money for a cab and the last bus already left.

It was going to be a long walk home.

An hour into your walk, the sky got steadily darker and you stopped dead with a sigh of absolute regret. You stared upwards as the first drops of rain started to fall. No coat, no umbrella.

“Why does the world hate me today?” you shouted out as the rain came down in freezing cold sheets.

You ran until you could duck under an awning in front of restaurant and with freezing cold hands retrieved your phone. Luckily there was enough battery left to make a phone call and you didn't hesitate to call the first person in your pinned contacts list.

“Please answer, please answer.” you mumbled over and over again as the phone continuously rang. You were about to give up at the twelfth ring when you heard the click.

“Hello.” came the deeply familiar voice.

“Can you pick me up?” you muttered, teeth chattering.

“I can't right now, I'm in the middle of a session.”

“Please, Yoongi!” you nearly sobbed in desperation, tears forming in your eyes. “Please?” you whispered.

There was silence for a long moment and you almost thought you got disconnected. But he must have heard something in your voice. “Where are you?”

You closed your eyes and burst into tears, unable to say a word.

“I'm coming, love. I have your location. Just stay there.”

You could only nod even though he couldn't see you as he disconnected the call.

By the time he got to you, you were curled up against the wall beside the restaurant, soaking wet and unable to feel any part of your body.

“Y/n! Oh my god!” you heard him call out to you. You couldn't feel him draping his jacket around you, nor scooping you up into his arms. He got you into his car and belted in before he went around to the driver's side, immediately turning up the heat as he grabbed your hands to rub some feeling back into them.

“Thanks, Yoongi.” you whispered, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I'm going to want to hear about this later, but I need to get you warmed up first.” he mumbled, turning to put the car in gear. He pulled away from the restaurant as the warmth finally penetrated your cold extremities.

His apartment was closer so he headed there immediately. You were more awake by the time you got to his door but he hustled you into his bathroom, turning on the shower.

“You hop in there and get warm immediately. I'll leave some clothes on my bed for you to change into. I'm going to go make you some soup. I don't want you getting sick.” he ordered. You could only nod, waiting until he closed the door after leaving before getting out of your wet clothing.

You spent nearly 45 minutes in the shower until you felt warm and human again, and another 15 cleaning yourself up.

As promised, he had left a pair of his socks, sweatpants and hoodie on his bed. The sweatpants were slightly big on you but they were warm and that's all you cared about. You were surprised by the hoodie. It was his favorite, a black smiley face hoodie you saw him wear frequently.

Warm and dry, you left his bedroom, following the smells of food to the kitchen. He was at the stove stirring something in a sauce pan. He glanced up at you when he saw you.

“Feeling better?” he asked as you sat at the island.

“Yeah, thanks for the clothes. And thanks for picking me up. I'm sorry for pulling you away from work.”

“What happened today?” he wondered, pouring some soup into a mug before passing it to you. You took a small sip, relishing the taste. As he cleaned up, you told him everything that happened to you that day.

“Just one disaster after another. Like who did I piss off in a past life?” you complained. He had to turn away so you couldn't see him chuckling at you. “Are you laughing?”

“No!” he squeaked out, still not looking at you.

“You're laughing at me!” you complained, slapping his shoulder. He shook his head as he burst into full on laughter. “I hate you.” you complained, pouting and crossing your arms.

“Aw, come on. You don't hate me.” he smiled, looping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a warm hug.

“Sadly, I don't hate you.” you mumbled against his chest, relishing the feeling of his arms around you. You didn't want to admit to yourself that you may have had a crush on him all these years.

He drew back to look at you. “Hm... you look good in my hoodie by the way.”

“I do?” You stepped fully out of his arms and did a little twirl.

“You do.” he replied.

“Do you know where else I'd look good?” you asked.

“My bed.”

“In front of the TV with a – wait, what?” you stammered, his words finally penetrating your brain.

“Preferably naked beneath me, but we can work on that.” he shrugged. You stared at him in shock and not a little bit of desire.

“Yoongi!”

“What?”

“You can't say things like that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it's not true!”

“Who says?” he returned.

“What?”

“I'm in love with you.” he stated, making your jaw drop. One thing about Yoongi, he was always blunt and he never lies.

“I-I- how?” you exclaimed.

“No idea. Just looked at you one day and said that's the girl I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Oh my god!” You were stunned. He snagged you by the pocket of his hoodie and pulled you forward until you were back in his arms.

“Do you feel the same for me?” he asked.

“I-I mean I do, but-”

“Good.”

And then he kissed you, not even waiting until you could unscramble your brain as his tongue made a home in your mouth.

Turned out to be a good day after all.

-End- Read other shorts in this series: Seokjin | Yoongi | Hoseok | Namjoon | Jimin | Taehyung | Jungkook

[lua-magic]

Astrology secrets.

Remember guys, when you insult someone, or bad mouth someone, abuse or even gossip about someone, even about celebrities, you are spoiling your multiple planets, and no astrologer or remedy can save you, as you are activating your Saturn 🪐, and spoiling your Venus, even it applies to social media posts where I have observed people bashing and insulting other people, religion or even other countries.

Look, whatever, problems you have with other people, violence is never the answer, violence could be physical or or even by your own words, when you speak with the intention of hurting someone, you are only taking curse of that person on yourself.

So, many times in my own experience I have noticed, even when native is running good planet phase, only by his way of speaking he is turning his good mahadasha, or period into bad one.

And when person learns to control his tongue and his sexual organs,(as mouth is second house and sexual organ is s seventh house, and both are ruled by Venus, ) he can even turn his bad phase into good phase, and I have seen and applied in multiple charts.

So first learn to control your tongue and then your sexual urges you Venus will give you good results.

Frequent masturbation and watching a sexual content to arouse yourself sexually can damage your sexual energy, and effect your root and sacral chakra and make you emotionally valunerable and aggressive.

So, have control on what you speak and what you watch, (as what you watch is third house 🏠, which is opposite to ninth house, which is house of luck )

When start to watch and read quality content, (not the sexual and adult content) you activate your third House, which is house of courage and bring new changes in your life.

So, start from controlling your senses then go to your mind(which is fourth house, which is opposite to tenth house)

Your mental framework and attitude decides how you perform in your work

So, develop the habit of positive thinking and gratitude.

Next, move to twelfth house which is House of forgiveness, which is opposite to sixth house (which is house of eniemies) .

When you forgive you conquer your eniemies.

All planets are within you itself when you change your nature, planets change themselves.

As within, so without

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Long ago, you were cursed to one day sleep for an eternity—unless you’re presented with true love. You thought destiny couldn’t find you on the high seas, but when you're sorely mistaken, it's up to a certain swordsman to get his act together and rescue you from eternal sleep.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zoro x princess!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: tw blood, sleeping beauty au, meddling faeries here and there, stubborn swordsmen and lovelorn princesses, no use of Y/N, light angst, major fluff

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: falling - timothy cole

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢,

a very many years ago, twelve Wise Women from the Isle of Perminion—faeries was a more precise term, but they felt the label struck too much fear into their mortal fellows, and in this economy, faeries need willing clientele—were invited to the presentation of a young princess from an old kingdom. Each bestowed upon her gifts coveted by all. Beauty, grace, love, and the like. 

It was the thirteenth Wise Woman who took it all back.

“You dare not invite me to this celebration of life? Fine. Forget me. But not before I give the princess my own gift. She’ll grow beautiful, wise, and loved, as my fellow Wise Women decreed—but one day she’ll lose all that to the prick of a spinning wheel and fall dead to my power!”

Your life had just begun, and had already gone to shit (forgive such undignified language, unfit for a princess, but really, you felt you deserved some leeway).

The whole of the kingdom knew the witch’s speech by heart, saying a prayer each night in the hope that their princess would be fortunate enough to never cross a spinning wheel in all her life. And from the rail of her tower’s terrace, the princess dreamed of someday joining them. Not in their prayers, but in celebration that even the worst curses are no match for the blessed princess of their kingdom. Blessed, as she once was, before the outrage of Carabose found her.

But that was only the dream of a foolish child.

Foolish dreams. You were cursed not only in the very literal sense but also by the paranoia of your parents, the king and queen of your revered nation. Not a soul outside the castle walls had seen their princess since the day of her introduction—the day you were cursed to one day cross the spindle of a spinning wheel, and die.

Well, not die. Your godmother, Rosalie—the twelfth Wise Woman and the only one that mattered in your opinion—had gifted you a chance at survival. 

“The princess will not die upon pricking the spinning wheel. She shall only sleep till… till she receives a display of true, compassionate, unbridled love.”

It was the first thing Rosalie could think of that would lessen the blow of the witch’s spell. 

And yet despite this security, your parents locked you away, terrified of what would happen to their little princess should she cross that fated hunk of wood. Honestly, it was beyond embarrassing being destined to be bested by a hunk of wood, but that’s just your luck, you supposed.

It was also just your luck that one day when you’d just barely given up all hope of living a fulfilling life, a certain crew of pirates found your kingdom, caused the uproar of the century, and managed to help you escape all in just two days. 

With the wind in your face some months later, it seemed all your dreams of grandeur were coming true; far away from your castle, you sailed the seas with real friends at your side. You never worried about your curse, for why would you ever find a spinning wheel at sea? It was silly to fear the fate set before you. 

Rosalie always told you that destiny cannot be fought, but look at you now, proving her wrong. 

(It’s like you were asking for things to go wrong).

The day was windy and bright, with sparse clouds high above and cool grass underfoot. The Going Merry rest at the docks of the little coastal city, Usopp making repairs in record time. You couldn’t help but wish to go out and explore, taking full advantage of your freedom.

You took Zoro with you, of course. You’d never leave the ship without your loyal guard at your side. 

Zoro. What to say about Zoro? In your opinion, he was probably the love of your life, if he ever got over himself and admitted he loved you too. Either way, you would never picture life without him by your side, even if he brushed off all your teasing advances with a roll of his eyes.

“Here,” you motioned him to your side, feeling warm inside with the familiar bump of his shoulder against yours. You picked up one of the ornate golden rings displayed at the market stall before you, grinning like a devil as you lifted your hand to measure it up against your skin. “What do you think? I prefer silver, but gold would match your earrings.”

Zoro, lovely and clueless Zoro, only tilted his head, aforementioned earrings chiming against one another. “I think it's nice, but why d’ya wanna match?”

By the time you slipped the ring on your fourth finger, he saw where this was going. “Hmm, no reason.” You handed the ring back to the seller and smiled up at Zoro’s perturbed, blushing face. 

“Sorry, you’re just so easy to tease.” He grunted in reply, drawing another smile out of you. Your eyes got all misty, like they always did when you looked at Zoro, and the words escaped your lips before you could stop them. “Go out with me.”

Zoro kept his gaze firmly on the sky, his shoulders far too stiff to be comfortable. “We’re… too busy for stuff like that.”

It all felt like a mildly disappointing routine at this point; you asked, he dodged around giving you an explicit no. Perhaps if he actually got the nerve to deny you, you’d have given up, but Zoro always left you with that small hope that one day his answer might change.

Still, something in you held the strong consideration to give up. Lovelorn and yet hopelessly deep, it was a tempting option. Surely, pursuing someone so adamantly disinterested was a lost cause. But what if, you dared to call back, silencing your doubts.

“C’mon,” you relented. “I need some new fabrics.”

You scooped up his hand and he let you drag him down the street to a little boutique on the corner. The door rang when you entered, and Zoro tried to ignore how your hand still clung to his even as the door clicked shut behind you.

“I wanted to make Nami a new dress,” you said as you beelined for the shelf of various fabrics. “You know, to make up for the one I ripped.”

He didn’t try to pull back, only standing at your side as you skimmed your free hand over a set of pinks. “Still don’t get how you ruined it that badly. It was practically in two pieces.”

“You were there. I was in a tree.”

“But why?”

Your silly smile rose to meet his gentle grin. “Because I wanted to? You could have joined me, but no, you stayed all alone on the ground like a loser.”

“If I was in the tree, who would catch ya’ when you fell like an idiot?”

With a scoff, you let go of his hand and picked up some pink and blue fabric, failing to see him watch you longingly. “Touche.”

Zoro was never sure what to make of you—you were like nothing he’d ever faced before. The day you waltzed into his life and started up your little flirtation game was the day Zoro found his most formidable opponent in the love you shared so willingly.

There was your habit of getting into trouble too—trouble he often dragged you out of—which didn’t help much either.

Zoro thought princesses were meant to be graceful and poised, as Vivi was, but you toppled those expectations at the very foundation. At this point, it wasn’t really a question of if he returned your feelings, but if he was able to voice it. As far as Zoro was concerned, the answer would always be a firm no.

As you started to stack the pink and blue on your arm Zoro reached to take them from you, draping the fabric over his shoulder. He returned your appreciative smile with a slight nod, heart warm at how you doted on him with your eyes alone.

Yeah, it was better this way—you waiting for something that would never happen, and him standing stoic at your side, nothing but a loyal companion.

“Miss.” Your voice, calling to the cashier, broke him from his less-than-happy thoughts. “Have you got any purple?” You swiftly turned back to Zoro with a brief, “Robin said she likes purple.”

The cashier looked up from her book, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I just finished some this morning,” she said with a grin, getting up to lift the gate in the counter and motioning for you to follow her into the back of the shop. “I’ll show you.”

Zoro’s skin prickled as you glided after the cashier, shooting him a smile as you disappeared through the door. He was left standing with the odd sense that something was wrong. 

Maybe it was the way a sudden draft hit his back despite there being no ventilation, or maybe it was the fact that you walked under a ladder earlier just to piss him off. Or, perhaps, it was the flash of green in the cashier’s eyes as she passed by a mirror.

Whatever it was, he stayed put, trusting he would be there to help you the moment you needed him. Zoro was always there when you needed him. Neither he nor you had reason to doubt this fact.

You felt completely at ease as you entered a small, dim room full of messy shelves, half-knit sweaters, and heaps of yarn. “Here,” the cashier pointed to a table at the center of the room. “Is this the shade you had in mind?”

A grin split your face as you felt the fabric, marveling at its softness. It was high-quality stuff, definitely not cheap. But you thought of Robin, who had done so much for you, and felt it was worth the possible loan from Nami.

“It’s perfect,” you replied. “How much?”

“Oh, it’s on the house.”

You startled instantly, eyes darting up to find the cashier absent from your side despite her voice being right in your ear. “Come again?”

“You can have it.” Turning slowly, you found the woman sorting through a surplus fo purple fabrics. “I have plenty.”

A gentle laugh escaped you. “Thank you so much. My friend will love it.”

The cashier swiveled on her heel and leaned against the table, head cocked to the side. Had her eyes always been so vibrant an emerald? They almost seemed to glow. “No, thank you, Your Highness.”

Chills ran up your spine at the formal address, all air expelled from your body as you choked out, “Pardon me?”

Caught up in the green of the woman’s eyes, you didn’t notice a misty tendril swirling up your body till it clouded your vision, directing your captured attention to the corner of the room. There in the shadows was a contraption you’d never seen before, yet you knew its purpose instantly. 

The purple string being woven gave it away. How had you not noticed the spinning wheel before? 

The fabric slipped from your fingers and fell to the floor in a lump. You darted for the door, yet your feet never moved an inch, cemented in place. Was that a tear on your cheek? No, it couldn’t be. You never cried. And yet, a salty streak ran from your eye to your jaw now, as if your body knew what your mind denied: your fate had caught you.

“Stop.” You weren’t sure who you spoke to. Your feet that started to creep toward the spindle? The husk of a woman, possessed by some evil spirit of a bitter sorceress? Destiny herself? Whoever you ordered refused to listen as you closed in on the wheel and raised a steady hand.

A half-lived life flashed before your eyes. A princess sat alone in a room, loneliness her only companion. A girl stood on a ship, tasting freedom for the very first time. A woman stared at a man, knowing this was what love felt like. 

A light pinch shocked your whole body, and you finally broke from the spell to find your index finger pierced into the sharpest of spindles. A cackle echoed from every corner of the room as the cashier collapsed on the spot. 

One thought broke through your slowly fading mind. Traitorous, wobbly feet took you to the door, flinging it open and leaning you against the doorframe. Your heavy eyes ached, Zoro’s voice so far away. You didn’t feel his hands on your arms as you sank to the floor.

Your labored, panicked breathing matched your flickering, terrified eyes. “Spindle.”

And you lay fast asleep in Zoro’s arms a moment later, peace written in your features. Your chest rose and fell gently. Zoro gazed down at the sleeping beauty, uttering your name over and over, practically paralyzed… Until he noticed the tiny bit of blood dripping from your fingertip, and he looked into the ajar room. A spinning wheel stood right in his line of sight, the wheel creaking as it spun slowly.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You had never told any of your friends about the curse, too embarrassed to do so. Was that a lapse in judgment? Perhaps, but you were too asleep to know.

Now Chopper stood at your side, holding his stethoscope over your heart. He set the scope around his neck a moment later, putting his hooves together nervously. Chopper felt the whole crew staring at his back like a brand. “I think—Well, I think she’s sleeping.”

Luffy had been deathly silent through the whole ordeal, not taking his eyes off you since Zoro carried you back to the ship in a hurry. “Then let’s wake her up.”

Sanji slapped a hand over his mouth before Luffy could start yelling, shoving out a sigh. “We tried that, didn’t we? Marimo shook her for five minutes before we could pry him off her.”

Everyone waited for when the swordsman would quip back his own insult, but the usual pattern was thrown off by a strange silence. Even Sanji looked around, confused to find Zoro nowhere in sight. 

Sanji blinked a few times before he placed his hands on his hips. “Now where the fuck is he?”

From the corner, seated in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, Robin spoke up for the first time all evening. Her thoughtful eyes stared into the space ahead of her. “I saw him leave a moment ago. Said he had to get something.”

Not even a second later did Zoro barge down into the galley. In one hand he held a spinning wheel of all things. In the other, he held a woman’s arm in a vice. 

Nami jumped to her feet, aghast. “Zoro, what—?”

He nearly threw the woman before them all, his brows drawn into an expression of ruthlessness. “Well? What did you do to her?!”

With her eyes wide and breaths short, the woman violently shook her head. “I don’t know what you mean!”

Sanji stepped forth intending to sock Zoro in the face for scaring the woman, when Zoro turned on him and spat, “This woman’s the reason she’s—she’s sick!”

That was all it took for Sanji, somehow still poised, to face the terrified woman now encircled by a crowd of frowning pirates. Sanji grabbed the woman’s arm, not as harshly as Zoro had, but just as firmly. “What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” she sputtered, gazing over at where you laid limply on the table. “I… I remember her. She wanted purple fabric.”

Zoro nearly had the mind to throttle the woman. “You led her into the back room and minutes later she stumbles out and—and sleeps!” He slammed the spinning wheel on the ground, startling everyone around. “She said spindle. What’s this? Some sort of… torture device?”

The woman did nothing but blink at him. “It’s a spinning wheel.”

“What’s it do?”

“It spins.” Suddenly the woman had the nerve of a warrior, righting herself to face Zoro’s glare. “I don’t know what you think I did, but I didn’t. All I know is I led her to the fabric and…” 

All her words fell short as she stuttered to find them, her brows screwing together. “And I don’t remember. I—I don’t remember what happened.”

Sanji seized her shoulders and leveled her with a look. “I need you to remember, madam. It means that girl’s life or death.”

The woman stood frozen, stunned as she stared into Sanji’s eyes, her cheeks turning a concerning shade of pink. Nami rolled her eyes and promptly shoved him out of the way, snapping in the woman’s face. 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Nami asked sharply.

“I mean I don’t remember.” Their captive grew increasingly frustrated, and maybe a bit nervous as well. “I walk that bitch into the back, I black out, and I wake up to this guy dragging me out of my home!”

Just as Zoro gasped (“Bitch, huh?”), Robin stood and slowly made her way toward the spinning wheel, running her hand over the wood and grazing a finger over the sharp needle. Inspecting the spindle close, she found a bit of dried blood there. She hummed, keeping everyone on edge, and went toward your sleeping form, grabbing your hands and turning them over. “Ah-ha…”

Zoro stepped forward, anxious. “What?”

“I think she poked herself on the spindle.” Robin made it sound so simple.

Nami tapped her finger to her nose as she pondered. “But why would that make her… sick?”

“Poison?” Chopper offered at the same time Robin answered, “Magic.”

“We don’t have time for speculation,” Sanji gritted as he fished around his pockets for his lighter, cigarette between his teeth. “Can we test for what poison it could be?”

As Chopper started to ramble about some tests he could run, Zoro stared daggers at the spinning wheel. Now, he wasn’t superstitious, but perhaps he was a little stitious, because the longer he stared at the wheel the more he remembered about what transpired in that shop.

“Why would it be magic?” Zoro asked suddenly, silencing the room. 

All eyes found Robin, who was now sitting on your bedside holding your hand. “She’s a princess, right? The princesses in the stories I’ve read dealt with a lot of bad magic.”

Nami shook her head. “This isn’t a story, Robin.”

The debate went on like that, really going nowhere at all, the cashier woman tentatively slinking away during the rabble and inevitably going forgotten. Luffy ignored them all, approaching you and lifting your hand to inspect as if he’d find some kind of sign in your pierced fingertip. 

And just maybe, he did find something. “Hey, Nami?”

She ran a hand over her face as Sanji and Zoro took jab after jab at one another, the stress of your condition getting to the both of them. “Yeah, Luffy?”

He followed a very excited thought bunny here and there, after princesses and stories until it hopped to a stop in front of a certain royal friend of theirs. You appeared next, smiling like he wished you would now. “Vivi? Yeah, I know her. We go way back.”

“Call Vivi,” he ordered, closing the discussion as he too sat at your side and started to poke at your sides, as if tickling you would be enough to break this spell.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Often, your dreams gave way to the most horrible nightmares, and always, you would find refuge in the realm of day. Until now. No matter where you ran a firm sheet of black blocked you in. Air as frigid as the Arctic enveloped you. No friend in sight, no solace from the cold. 

Finally falling still, you blinked, and you stood in the middle of your tower, back in your kingdom. The high-reaching walls created that familiar dome painted with the long-forgotten stories of your people. The marble floors chilled your bare feet. Your bed leered at you from the far wall, whispers inviting you back into its clutches that would send you spiraling further into this forever sleep.

Panic surged up your chest till you gasped for air, losing your grip quicker than you could keep up with. Laughter taunted you from every corner till you started to scream and shout and call out for anyone to help you. But the door held fast against your pulling and thick briar thorns wrapped all around the balcony. 

Still, you clawed at the spiraling thorns, prying to see through, blistering your palms on their heated stalks. Your whimpers were followed by a loud, echoed roar, a harsh gust of wind cast down from the wings of a soaring lizard you’d only ever dreamed of. 

You whirled around to catch a better view of the creature’s mass, clutching at your heart as those gargantuan claws settled down on the tower of your bedroom. Two nostrils blew smoke that encroached the balcony and the depths of your room. The dragon’s eyes held no mercy as she gazed down with malice. 

This curse played a cruel joke, trapping you within the bars of your own mind, turning your fantasies against you. Your every turn showed you more wonders turned horrors the longer you searched for them; the clouds formed words you wouldn’t dare to repeat, the grass down below burned in confusing patterns, and the voices of those you held dear echoed from somewhere nearby.

Your fretful mother. Your paranoid father. The gossiping handmaidens. The superstitious priest. All lamented your fate, screaming how they knew it was a matter of time before the curse finally found you, tearing into you for ever even dreaming of leaving. You really should have stayed. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d piped down and stayed.

Then it was Luffy, Nami, and Usopp. “Why did you ever ask her to join us?” “Not sure. I thought she was something she wasn’t.” “She’s just a liar.” “A dead weight.” “A curse.”

Robin’s voice pierced her eardrums as your knees hit the ground. Why had she ever given you the time of day? Some sheltered little princess without enough common sense to know a spinning wheel when she saw one. And Chopper, his sweet voice turned sour. How pathetic. Beaten by a piece of wood.

The worst of it all was when his voice broke through all the rest despite how she tried to ignore that rumbling tone she once learned to crave. Zoro’s words were direct and clear. She’s finally gone. God, I was this close to just silencing her stupid mouth myself.

To think he would ever actually love her? How foolish of you.

The walls of your dreams closed in swiftly, caging you in and suffocating your hopes till you were left a husk, floating amidst the torment. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Vivi had been silent for so long Luffy wondered if she’s gotten distracted and walked off. Nami shuffled closer to the snail transponder. “Vivi?”

“Sorry,” her voice reappeared, a slight crack to it. “I just… you said she pricked a spindle?” Nami hummed in agreement, and Vivi expelled a long sigh. “She’s been asleep since? You can’t wake her?”

“That’s what we said,” Zoro snapped, shutting up at Nami’s sharp glare.

“It’s just… I mean, I’ve only heard stories. She only talked about it once, in a letter she wrote to me. That’s the only way we could talk since her parents locked her away—”

“Stories about what, Vivi?” Nami guided the tense princess back as Zoro started to pace back and forth, his hands raking at his hair.

She was silent for two whole seconds, and then, “The curse.”

The whole room fell still.

“They say a dark Wise Woman cursed her when she was baby, so that one day, she would prick her finger on a spinning wheel’s spindle… and die.” She rushed to amend herself, “But then another Wise Woman fixed it. She won’t die, but fall asleep… until someone shows her an act of true, unconditional love.”

For a long while the whole room is held captive by silence, eyes flickering to where you snoozed nearby. Zoro couldn’t look away. The way you looked so peaceful pained him in a way, knowing you were trapped in a place he couldn’t save you from. At least the tiny grin on your face gave him confidence your everlasting dreams were nice.

“How do we do that?” he heard himself asking.

“I—I don’t know. I thought it was a story to justify her isolation—”

“Well, obviously not.”

“Zoro,” Nami’s words cut sharply. “Take a walk.”

“But—”

“Walk.”

He stood with as much noise as he could, knocking his chair back and stomping out of the room. Zoro stopped just at the door to cast a look at you, highly aware of the eyes of everyone on him. His hand closed around the doorframe, his heart tightening, and he left without another word. 

Letting the others see how much he cared for you would just make everything infinitely worse. Zoro couldn’t handle that level of teasing on top of your sickness.

Zoro stepped out onto the deck, now basked in moonlight, and rushed to lean against the railing. His skin felt feverish in contrast to the cold dread coursing through his veins. Why hadn’t you said anything? Sure, he probably wouldn’t have believed you, but maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have let you leave his side so quickly.

And now this? This formidable task would supposedly save you. An act of true love? What could that even mean?

With his eyes on the sky, Zoro let out a shaken sigh. He would tear every one of those stars down if it meant you would be okay. Would that be enough for this curse? Or would he have to take down the moon as well and lay it at your feet?

No… no, certainly nothing he could do would ever be strong enough to save you. For so long he’d put off your advances, too stubborn to face the emotions building up in his heart… Zoro doubted he held the strength to perform such an act, and that notion threatened to crush him. 

He too had read the stories Robin spoke of; stories of princes who swooped in and saved the princess with a kiss. You needed one of them—those princes—and Zoro was far from royalty.

If anything, he was the knight in rusted armor who failed.

But, an idea crept out of the depths of his mind, crawling to the surface till his heart pumped at the possibility. He was no prince, no knight, and no cursebreaker—but Zoro was a hunter.

He burst back into the galley with a crazed look in his eyes. “Vivi?”

Her voice crackled out from the startled snail. “Yes?”

“Where do we find this Wise Woman?”

Not even a day later, the crew set out on the sea once more, a new destination in mind: the secluded island of the so-called wise and elusive faeries. 

Zoro stood at your bedside, too afraid to reach out and take your hand, making a solemn oath.

“I will find a way to save you if it is the last thing I do.”

If only the swordsman would have known—the strongest of magic lies in promises. If only Zoro had the eye to see the tendrils of magic curling around your sleeping body, tightening around you as the curse shivered away from his declaration. Spirits hissed from the corners fo the room and shied away from the mere passion behind his eyes. Somewhere distant a sorceress coiled her fists around nothing as her hold on the slumbering princess slipped through, little by little. Could he have fathomed it, he would have known he held more honor than the mightiest of princes. 

But he couldn’t fathom it, so he failed to notice the magic encircling his heart, seeking out any cracks in his steel-strong pride. There were none to find. The magic had nowhere to go, and until the hunter’s pride wore down, nothing would change. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your godmother turned out to be a real bitch, by Zoro’s standards. First off, she was waiting for them on the shore, like a creep. In her witchy get-up, Zoro could have mistaken her for the one he meant to run through with his sword. 

“What’re you supposed to be,” he sneered as she made her way up the gangway, practically making herself on home on the deck. 

She met his glare equally. “I’m your only hope, dear. Now wipe that look off your face. You’ll get stuck like that.”

Rosalie took control of the situation in her stride, heading down to the galley and acting as if she owned the place. Only Nami seemed to be put off by this, standing at Zoro’s side with her arms folded as the rest of the crew gathered around the Wise Woman.

“She was always too stubborn for her own good,” said Rosalie fondly, a tiny grin on her lips. “Luckily for you, Carabose never strays far from the island. It’s the source of our power, and the poor, scaly, greedy thing would just die if she lost her magic.”

The radiant faerie pulled her dark curls forth, scrunching up her angular nose as she thought of the witch to blame for her dear princess’s condition. She sucked in a breath and released it harshly, suddenly appearing much older than before. “I must thank you. My princess deserves so much more, and you managed to give it to her, if only for a little while.”

“You talk as if she’s dead,” Nami grumbled. The look Rosalie gave her then was far less than comforting.

“Well, unless you have a source for true love nearby, she’s as good as it.” Zoro’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword, his eyes slamming shut as that grief washed over him again. Rosalie’s eyes flickered to him, an unnoticeable shine in her eye and a tilt in her lips. 

(Wise Women see much more than the normal eye, and just now Rosalie spotted the remarkable fuchsia tendrils of a very special kind of magic, so rare many thought it mere myth… yet it was swirling around the swordsman’s heart).

She turned to face the crew in their entirety, her expression grave. “Only the caster may raise a curse unless it is broken according to certain parameters. I may be able to deal with Carabose through negotiation. We… have a history.” Rosalie ruffled slightly. “She might have mercy and relinquish the curse herself.”

Zoro scoffed, drawing the faerie’s attention. “And if she doesn’t?”

Rosalie’s eyes flashed. “Then I’ll cut her down and hope that is enough.”

Sanji shook his head, blinking like he was forcing himself to deny Rosalie’s beauty. “And what will we do?”

“You’ll be with me. If Carabose dies and she does not wake… one of you will have to make a sacrifice.” Rosalie assessed them all with cool eyes, reveling in their discomfort, till she cracked a smile and tossed her head back. “I jest, I jest! However, we will need to come up with a display of true love after the deed is done and our princess has not woken.”

Zoro continued to bristle at the faerie’s coolness, grinding his teeth as she floated about the room, mumbling to herself. He dropped his swords on the table with a clang, startling Rosalie. “I can kill the witch myself. Give me ten minutes, and it’ll be done.”

“I know you are desperate to save your friend, Swordsman,” Rosalie simpered. “But you’ll be staying here.”

His blood was boiling at this point. The plan at hand was hardly what he’d had in mind. Zoro shook his head firmly and grasped his composure tightly. “I need to do something.”

“And you will! You’ll be guarding our princess.” Rosalie dared to set a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, making him go all stiff till he caught her steely gaze. “Carabose controls many of the spirits of the island. I wouldn’t put it past her to send one of them to whisk the princess away. You perhaps have the most important job of all.”

Yeah, right. Zoro locked eyes with Nami over the faerie’s shoulder, sharing a silent agreement as he shrugged the woman off. “Nami can stay behind—”

“No.” Rosalie’s grip tightened around his shoulder as the temperature dropped instantly. “You will stay, and Nami will come along.” Her smile felt sinister. “I am Rosalie of the Wise Women, and you are just a man with a sword. I have conquered kingdoms in the name of her parents. What have you done?” 

“I’ll kill the witch,” he said weakly. “And I’ll save her.”

“Kill the witch,” she mocked him. “You mean to tell me that’s an act of true love, swordsman?” Rosalie leaned in close, her voice as soft as wind. “How can you say you love her when you let her go, Roronoa Zoro. Now stay put and don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

She swept away as swiftly as she’d closed in, leaving Zoro breathless and unsteady. Rosalie clapped her hands together and faced Luffy with a grin. “Now, Captain. You understand the plan?”

Luffy looked all around, making eye contact with each of his crewmates, till he found Zoro, who leaned against the wall having some sort of crisis. Words rose up to his tongue, ready to lash out and tear the faerie to bits when he saw it. The tendrils were growing brighter. Slowly, he turned to Rosalie, who met his gaze unblinkingly. “Yeah, I got it.”

Usopp shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, Luffy, I don’t think—”

“I trust her,” he declared, and that was that. Usopp nodded, followed by the reluctant rest. Zoro’s eyes flashed up to meet his captains, unsure about how confident Luffy was, but not willing to ever doubt his friend. 

“Splendid,” Rosalie simpered. “I’ve no doubt Carabose is waiting for us, so we’d do best to keep up our guards.”

As she rounded everyone up and led them out of the galley and off the ship, Nami brought Zoro aside, her brows furrowed. “I don’t like this,” she murmured. “But I trust Luffy.” Zoro grunted as if to agree, his eyes unfocused. Nami gave his shoulder a pat as she passed him. “Just stay with her. Who knows, maybe she’ll know you’re there.”

And Zoro found himself all alone, the ship a deathly quiet he had never witnessed before. He could hear his every breath and feel the rock of the ship. A creak came from somewhere nearby, pinching at a sensitive part of his mind. Zoro took a few weightless, shallow steps down the hall, his hand running against the wall, until he came face to face with the door of your bedroom. 

Too long he stared at the door before he shoved at it, swinging it open wide. Zoro surged inside with so much gusto his muscle memory urged him to reach for his swords, but he’d left them in the galley. Instead, his hand grasped at air whilst he vacantly stared about the room. 

You lay soundlessly atop your bed, hands crossed over your chest like a corpse. Zoro instantly moved to adjust your arms, laying them instead at your sides. There, that was better.

His brows screwed together; where a smile had earlier been gracing your lips, a firm frown now replaced it. Your face contorted, your mind plagued by an enemy Zoro couldn’t fight. Ensuring he didn’t make a sound, Zoro took a knee and drew close to your face, folding his arms on the edge of your bed and resting his head there.

Sweat beaded along your forehead, distress clear on your face. Without thinking Zoro reached to wipe it away with the back of his hand, initiating a kind of intimate contact only you had ever thrust upon him. He shocked himself, frozen with his hand on your cheek before he cleared his throat and returned to his original position.

Hours he stayed like that, eyes dutifully watching over your face, pulse spiking at every sign of distress caught in your features. Your brows pinched together, lips parting as a strangled sigh left you.

Perhaps… Zoro threw caution to the wind and reached for your hand. You didn’t budge, but—and maybe he was seeing things—it looked like your face softened up a little bit. So he stayed just like that, rubbing circles into the back of your hand.

He lifted his gaze to the window, where the sun was beginning to set once again. “Wonder if the others found that witch yet…” They could be fighting for their lives, if Rosalie’s dumb plan fell through. He should be out there. Zoro’s eyes flickered all around the blue sky, worry eating at him, till he finally rose to his feet and dropped your hand. 

“I’ll be back—” Your instant whine had Zoro practically jumping out of his skin and descending back to your side all at once. “I mean, they can probably handle it. I’m still here.”

Your face returned to a state of calm as if you’d never moved at all. He scoffed out a laugh, murmuring fondly, “You little shit.” Again, little shifts in your expression hinted at a nightmare. “What’s goin’ on in there, huh?”

(Your dreams had taken a drastic turn. Dragon fire shot past your head, close enough to singe your eyelashes. The broom you’d taken up as a weapon splintered against the scaly back of your guard. The serpent burned away at the roof of your room, circling like a vulture, taunting echoes slipping off her forked tongue. As your eyes continued to flutter, sleep beckoning like a long-lost friend, you didn’t dare to succumb to the call. Should you sleep, you felt certain you would never, ever wake up. 

Yet, you were so tired. It couldn’t hurt… if you rested your eyes… if only to escape the taunting of his voice. He’s glad you’re good as dead. He never had to deal with your pining ever again. 

Every echo of doubt had you believing that just maybe, it might be true, sending you deeper into this eternal insanity).

“Zoro.”

The swordsman didn’t breathe. He couldn’t. “I’m here.” If his words had any effect on the state of you, it didn’t show. You only rustled sharply, eyes flickering all around behind your eyelids… until you fell deadly still. “Hey now. Don’t slip away just yet.”

Again, he took up your hand, willing you to keep giving him signs that you weren’t too deep into slumber. “An act of true love. Sanji could probably pull one of those out of his ass.” That thought sent him on a tangent, pictures of your effervescent smile flashing across his mind. 

Days ago, he’d been so secure on never revealing his feelings to you. The pair of you would have lived all your lives revolving around one another until you inevitably gave up, and it would be for the best. Right then and there, though, Zoro felt certain if he never looked into your eyes again he would never forgive himself for every time he turned you away. 

“I’ve always wondered,” he whispered. “Why you don’t just go after the lovecook. It’d be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with me.” 

Zoro made himself comfortable, leaning his head on the bed. “If… when you wake up, let’s go do something, like you wanted. You like painting, right? We’ll go painting. I’ll probably offend the very act of art, but maybe you’ll laugh at me, and it’ll be okay. I’ll throw paint in your hair and you’ll punch me, and it’ll be a real good time.”

Nothing. Your chest rose and fell at a concerningly slow pace. “When we get you back… I’ll apologize. For being an idiot.” Had your lips always been so dry? “But you have to wake up to hear it.”

Your condition remained unchanged… save for the stark silence coming from your nose, and the eerie stillness of your chest. Zoro’s gut churned. You were only meant to sleep, so why weren’t you breathing?

(The sleeping beauty dared to lie down, the tower burning all around her, at ease among the encroaching flames).

His hand felt at you heart, his own stuttering at how faint yours was beating. You looked so blank. Not a flaw in your void expression. Zoro, on the verge of pleading to gods he didn’t believe in, again reached for a sword that wasn’t there as a bone-chilling chuckle echoed from every corner. 

“You can’t save her~” sang a ghostly voice, right into his ear. 

Zoro slammed his ear down on his shoulder to rid himself of the shiver running down his spine. Whipping around, he ground his jaw enough to hear the chip in his teeth. “Watch me, witch.”

Her laughter mocked him. “How? You’re no prince. No knight. What’re you going to do, warrior? Kiss her and hope your honor is enough?” Carabose appeared in a misty shadow behind him, surging through his body like a specter, sending him keeling to the floor. “The princess’ soul has long belonged to me. True love doesn’t exist. Rosalie should’ve known that.”

“You’re wrong!” Zoro bellowed, something deep in his heart constricting, building up a fire in his bones. 

“Oh,” the witch hummed darkly. “I’m sure. This isn’t a fairytale, boy. Kisses don’t wake princesses… and simple swordsmen don’t save them.”

The witch’s cackle faded even as he slashed at the air with his arm, wild eyes searching till they landed back on you, unnervingly calm. If Carabose’s intention was to have her spirits discourage Zoro, she fairly succeeded; but she also succeeded in something else—giving him something to prove.  

His shoulders sunk as he just stared, taking in the hopeless sight before him. It was much too late to confess to his sleeping beauty. Even if they did find a way to wake her, who was to say she would still want him? What if some hero swoops in and takes her away?

He would be deserving of that fate, Zoro thinks, his foolishness crashing down on him even as he falls to his knees at your side once more. 

Make a note that Roronoa Zoro doesn’t believe in magic. It’s all make-believe to help children see the good in the world. He knew that full and well, deep in his heart. But something he knew with far greater certainty is that he would do anything to have the chance to love you as you loved him. 

Magic wasn’t real. But what if? Zoro felt silly for daring to think it, but even then his hand reached to cup your cheek. Wasn’t there truth to every story? Kissing princesses didn’t make the world all right. Fairytales don’t come true. 

But the sun was setting on another day with you held down by this curse, and Zoro felt pathetic and weak and he had no other plan at hand. 

“I’m an idiot,” he confessed the obvious. “I never choose what’s easy except when it comes to you. Which made it difficult, which defeated the purpose and—Never mind.” Peaceful despite the circumstances, you never stirred an inch. “Please wake up. Please… Or I’ll look really, really stupid.”

One hand on your cheek, the other bracing himself against the bed, Zoro pressed the most delicate of kisses atop your cold lips, a horrifying shiver shooting through him at how it felt like kissing a corpse. Lingering, he drew back, breath staggered at how nothing happened. You didn’t shoot awake. Not a muscle in your body twitched. Your eyes didn’t move.

“Please,” he mumbled over your lips, his forehead colliding with yours in a desperate plea. “Wake up. Wake up so I can tell you I love you.”

Unseen magic exploded around the room, wrapping around the swordsman and the princess as pride and honor were laid down at the feet of a curse that died with the far-off scream of a thwarted witch.

(The sleeping princess blinked awake, squinting from the blinding light filtering in through the open ceiling. The dragon faded to mist and the fires blew out with a hush. Words the princess had only ever dreamed of hearing echoed down to her ears, and everything went white).

You awoke from the most horrible sleep, your bones and body aching as something like a cold fever washed over you. A shallow breath fizzled out of you right before your lungs brought in as much air as they could take. Eyes flinging open, your surroundings came into focus in an instant, and you found a figure looming over you with the funniest expression.

Zoro’s face was white as a sheet, eyes wide and brows vaulted, his lips parted. He looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and a laugh left you before you could stop it. You smiled with no abandon as Zoro’s hand traced your jaw. “What’s this about?”

And it all came rushing back like a punch to your gut as Zoro’s eyes bore into you. Your lips fell into a shocked gape. “You kissed me?”

“I… uhm…” 

You slowly sat upright, hands in your lap, head tilted as you admired the man before you in a light like never before. “You love me?”

His eyes pinched shut, and you feared he regretted his confession. Perhaps it was a heat-of-the-moment thing. Maybe he didn’t mean it and you’re stupid for ever thinking he might—

“I do.” He looked as breathless as you felt. “I do love you.”

An eternity could have passed and you wouldn’t have known nor cared, all too caught up in etching his face into your memory. Hesitant, you rose to your knees, bed covers shoved aside, and your hands went to cup his face tenderly. “Tell me again.”

Warmth flooded his cheeks as your thumbs ran over his cheekbones, drawing his eyes back to yours every time they dared to flicker away. He melted into you, one hand falling to your waist and the other cupping behind your thigh. “I love you.”

Another smile burst across your face. “I love you too.” You leaned in close, nudging your nose at his cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

Zoro cracked a grin, his eyes fluttering. “Okay.”

“And kiss you.” 

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll never sleep again. I’m only going to kiss you until they pry me off you, my handsome, lovely, cursebreaker swordsman—Mmph!”

His lips cut you off, surging forth to catch you unguarded. Zoro’s arms pulled you in quickly as you pushed in just as firmly, hands raking through his hair. Years you waited and years you longed. Countless nights you laid awake intending to give up come morning, only to fall back into his eyes. 

All for this. The day your soul knew would come even when your heart was doubting. 

“I love you,” you broke away to say, simply because you could.

And no witch, no curse, no destiny would ever keep you from telling him. 

Giggling at nothing at all, you leaned into him and wrapped him up in your arms, head falling to his shoulder. Your eyes drifted behind him, your whole body freezing at the sight in the corner. “What the fuck is that doing here?”

Zoro nearly broke his neck whipping it around only to choke on a laugh. The spinning wheel sat humbly to the side, purple string still running through it. “Probably was a bad idea to keep it in here.”

“You think!” You lightly flicked his nose and got a little grunt out of him. “Let’s burn it.”

A bonfire awaited the crew as they returned, their egos bruised and spirits low despite their defeat of the Wise Woman Carabose. Every last one of them nearly screamed when they saw you stoking the pillar of fire with the brightest smile on your face, Zoro’s arm round your shoulder.

You teetered this way and that, tossed around as they hugged the life out of you. Laughter came easy and the night drew long, stories of their victory recounted and certain questions about your recovery proposed.

“You needed an act of true love,” Chopper wondered, never straying far from your side as he clung to your arm. “So what happened?”

You weren’t at all subtle in your direct look at Zoro, who coughed and averted his eyes to the suddenly very interesting ground. “Someone got off their high horse and—”

“All right!” Zoro laughed awkwardly. “Cook, where’d you put the extra sake?”

Nami silently awed as she dragged you and Robin aside, begging to know exactly what happened. Somewhere through the night, Usopp looked around, lowering his glass from his lips. “What happened to Rosalie?”

You tripped over nothing at that name. “What? My godmother?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “She helped us find Cara-bitch, or whatever… When did she disappear?”

Everyone took a moment to think, blinking quickly as a single answer was formed: they didn’t know.

“That sounds like her. I just wish I could’ve said hello,” you said. 

Zoro hovered at your side, his hand ghosting over yours. “She was weird anyway.”

“Hey!”

The fire fizzled out somewhere close to dawn, though the celebration seemed far from over. Your eyes felt heavy and your body too, but every time you fell too much into drowsiness, cold terror tore through you. You weren’t joking when you declared you’d never sleep again; the prospect petrified you.

“C’mon,” Zoro muttered when your head fell to his shoulder and shot back up for the sixth time. “You need to rest.”

“I’ve slept enough—”

“That’s not what I said.” Zoro stood and offered you a hand, a gentle smile warming you from the inside out. You shoved your hand into his and started the trek below deck, departure unnoticed.

As you passed your bedroom, you stopped and stared at your bed just three seconds before you bee-lined to Zoro’s door, leading him along behind you. Dazedly, you waltzed around each other, preparing for sleep even as your heart pounded in your head. 

“What if I don’t wake up?” you wondered aloud as Zoro sunk into bed.

His eyes found yours and you swore you fell even deeper. “You will.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I love you.”

That fact was one of the only real things either of you knew, and for now, it was enough. 

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s

[taurusvenusian]

✶ how do you approach your subconscious mind and healing journey? ✶

PLANETS IN THE TWELFTH HOUSE

inner world, subconscious mind, healing journey

if you have planets in the twelfth house, your life is noticeably influenced by your hidden desires, isolation, fears, inner world, and healing.

Sun in the 12th House

You deeply associate with introspection, spirituality, or solitude. You may take on roles that go behind the scenes and may shy away when given attention. You tend to be secretive about your thoughts or behaviors. You grow through lots of self-reflection.

Moon in the 12th House

You find it hard to express yourself and want your emotions to be private to lessen the chances of people hurting you. Your intuition and sensitivity to other people’s emotions become your strengths. You may need to retreat from time to time just to recharge emotionally.

Mercury in the 12th House

You may face challenges in communicating your thoughts in a clear and precise way. You are gifted in creative or spiritual writing. Your thoughts may often revolve around the subconscious or what is hidden. You have the tendency to figure things out alone or in secret.

Venus in the 12th House

You may be the type to keep romantic pursuits or feelings private. A secret or unspoken love appeals to your somewhat introspective nature. When you give in relationships, you make sure it is true and selfless. You feel the most content when feeling secluded.

Mars in the 12th House

You may have unconscious anger or suppressed desires that need to be explored. You may keep your actions and ambitions hidden or ambiguous. Secret enemies may be common for you. You may benefit when your energy goes toward helping others or meditating.

Jupiter in the 12th House

You feel a sense of growth and luck when engaging in spirituality practices, charity, or selfless service in general. You are compassionate by nature and are drawn to work that requires healing or support for others. You nurture your faith through reflection or prayer.

Saturn in the 12th House

You may have restricted yourself in some ways due to cautiousness or fear. You are taught inner strength and patience by your experiences with feelings of isolation, fear, or self-doubt. You may confront hidden fears and limitations over time and may prefer duties or tasks that require solitude or discretion.

Uranus in the 12th House

You are intuitive and your inner world is rich with unexpected insights. You may experience vivid dreams or strange synchronicities which offer you sudden realizations. You are urged to break free from unconscious patterns and from the limitations placed on you by others.

Neptune in the 12th House

You have heightened intuition and imagination which makes you very empathetic and creative. You are prone to escapism or having unclear boundaries between reality and fantasy. You prefer spaces that are quiet and help you create or meditate.

Pluto in the 12th House

Your inner world transforms as you may face hidden fears or psychological shadows. You prefer privacy as you try to navigate deep questions to satisfy your desire to understand what is hidden. You experience profound personal growth through surrender and self-discovery.

Reminder: these are just GENERAL descriptions. Your birth chart holds the key to understanding yourself better. For a more accurate and specific reading tailored for you, book a reading with me here!

[wheels-of-despair]

Dummy and All Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman are having the best date ever... and then, one little slip-up changes everything. Contains: Eddie being sappy, Evil Woman being snarky, a shared milkshake, a romantic night under the stars, an E/EW first. Words: 1.8k

Eddie Munson is in love.

However, he is far too big a chicken to actually tell the object of his affection how he feels. Even though he's never been so sure of anything in his life. He can't risk her finding out. Best to just keep this to himself. Enjoy it while he can, before it all inevitably goes to hell.

It had been a perfect evening. They'd gone out for burgers. They'd both received exceptionally long fries, and had a makeshift swordfight across the table. His fry had died a dramatic death, getting soaked in ketchup before finally being shoved in his mouth. She'd laughed and given him a quiet round of applause for his performance, along with a smile that made his whole body buzz.

For dessert, they shared a milkshake. With two straws. The waitress aww'd at them, and Eddie briefly worried that the heat radiating from his burning face might make their shake melt. (It didn't.)

He never thought he'd actually get to be in a relationship like this. Who, in their right mind, would want to do cutesy couple shit with Eddie "The Freak" Munson, the drug-dealing dirt-bag from the trailer park who couldn't even pass the twelfth grade?

This girl.

Almost three months in, and he still couldn't believe his luck.

After they'd sucked down the last of their shake, they went to Weathertop for a little star-gazing. Eddie left the van in the woods at the bottom of the hill, and they jumped a fence and hiked through the slightly muddy field. It was a little slippery after the recent rain, but every time she slipped, she reached for him. Like she knew he'd never let her fall. It made him feel so proud; she trusted him. HIM.

He actually remembered the blanket for a change, so they didn't have to sit on the wet grass. He could still feel the cold and damp ground leech through after a while, but he didn't say anything. She pretended not to notice either. They sat with their heads together, his arm around her, watching the sky. According to the weather guy on the news, they might be able to see a bit of the Northern Lights tonight.

Eddie didn't see anything but the plain old midwestern stars, as usual, but he didn't mind. It was warm for this time of year, and the moon was so bright, he could see her painted nails and the ring on her thumb, which was absentmindedly stroking his knee.

"What time is it?" she asks quietly, speaking the first words in what feel like hours. How is it that the boy dubbed "the yappiest student I've ever had the misfortune to teach" found himself enjoying the silence? It was never awkward with her. Well, maybe there were a few awkward silences at first. But as they got used to each other, they quickly learned that there were more ways to communicate than with words. A warm smile that meant "I'm happy to be with you". A light touch that meant "I'm not going anywhere". A wink that meant "I want to make your brain waves turn to TV static".

Eddie lights up his watch and feels his heart sink. He has to get her home soon. Her mom has been shockingly nice to him so far, and he doesn't want to make her reconsider. Although that might happen any day now. He dreads the day that her mom gets in line behind the wrong person in the supermarket checkout line and finds out that her daughter is dating the town freak. An undesirable. A Munson. Cue gasps and pearl-clutching and church support groups.

"Guess we oughta head back down," he sighs. He moves to get up, but the hand splayed on his knee stops him. She leans in for a kiss. Who is he to deny her? One kiss turns to two, and three, and Eddie quickly loses count.

She moves her hand and gently squeezes that spot on the inside of his thigh, just above his knee, and he jumps up quickly, hauling his wet ass off the wetter blanket before any more blood can rush to his nether-regions. He reaches for her, and she lets him pull her off the blanket too. He holds on to her hands for a moment, trying to warm them between his own.

"I think my ass is even colder than my fingers, you gonna warm that up too?" she teases.

Eddie's face bursts into flame. She can put any body part she wants on that, and it'll warm her right up. Shut up, Eddie!

"Oh my god, you're blushing so hard I can see it in the dark," she laughs.

"Shut up," Eddie grumbles, unable to hide his smile.

He snatches the blanket and shakes it out, hastily folding it and sticking it under one arm. He reaches for her with his other. She laces her fingers with his, and their hands swing together between them as they traipse back down the hill.

They get to a particularly slippery part about halfway down. She skids down about a foot, squealing and trying her best to hang on to him. "I got you," he assures her, almost losing the blanket in the process of steadying her. It's a sacrifice he's willing to make. They continue on, easing down the steep hill step by step and side by side.

Eddie holds tightly to her, loving that she depends on him to keep her steady. He's determined not to let her fall.

What he does not count on… is falling himself.

In what feels like slow motion, Eddie Munson steps into a muddy patch between tufts of grass. His feet shoot out from under him, sending him airborne. It almost feels like flying. In midair, weightless, it occurs to Eddie that his only connection to the ground comes in the form of the hand he's holding.

Oh no.

Time speeds up, like when you hit fast-forward on the VCR. Eddie feels his ass hit the mud, and he slides downward, feeling a tug on his shoulder. A sharp yelp pierces his ears, and he feels himself tumbling down the hill, his body alternating between smacking against the cold ground and something warm and considerably softer.

When he finally stops, he stares up at the bright sky and focuses on trying to catch his breath. The fall knocked the wind out of him.

"Ow."

Oh, fuck! He dragged her down with him! Eddie rolls over, ignoring the pain in his knees and elbows and lungs as he half-rises to check on her. She's shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asks frantically.

She doesn't answer. Is she crying?

"Are you hurt?" he asks, wishing there was more light to see her by. He moves closer to feel her head, checking for bumps, and realizing a little too late that he's just smeared more mud on her face and hair.

"You know," she wheezes, "I kinda suspected you'd fall for me one of these days, but I didn't think it'd be this hard."

She's not crying. She's laughing.

Any other girl would be beating the shit out of him right now. Screaming about getting dirty, accusing him of trying to murder them, threatening him with daddy's wrath or a lawsuit, calling the jocks out from their hiding places to kick his ass for thinking this was real. But here she is, lying on her back in the mud, after being dragged down a fucking mountain, laughing and teasing him.

But she's not laughing at him, like the rest of them do. She makes him blush ten times a day or more, but there's never any viciousness in her teasing. She's different. She likes the same weird things he does, and she's sweet to him, and she's beautiful, and she has the best sense of humor. How did he get so fucking lucky? How is it that Eddie Munson found the girl of his dreams in a Hawkins High classroom? Where would he be if he'd skipped that day? Where would she? What if he'd lived his entire life without knowing what this felt like? The realization causes a strange sensation in his chest.

"I love you," he breathes.

His heart stops. So does her laughter. She stares up at him, mouth open and face frozen in shock. FUCK. HE SCREWED UP. HE SHOULDN'T HAVE FUCKING SAID THAT. EDDIE MUNSON YOU FUCKING MORON YOU'VE RUINED--

"Wow," she says, her tone unreadable.

"What?" he croaks, mouth dry and body trembling.

"We almost died rolling down that hill, and that's what makes your life flash before your eyes? Three little words?"

They stare at each other for a few seconds, and when Eddie finally gets it, it's his turn to laugh. She grins and wraps her arms around him. Eddie lets her pull him close, practically lying on top of her and hugging there on the cold wet ground.

"I love you too, dummy," she whispers in his ear.

It's the most beautiful thing he's ever heard in his fucking life. The words hang in the air. Dummy and all. The heat from her breath lingers on his ear and drives him wild. Eddie's heart swells. A tear may have escaped his eye. He never wants to let her go. She's perfect, and she's his, and she actually loves him too?!

"I hope you don't think I'm putting out just because you said I love you," she mumbles, shifting her body beneath him.

Oh, fuck.

Eddie scrambles off of her, mortified at the stiff situation in his jeans. Why can't he ever do one thing without fucking everything else up?!

"Relax," she chuckles, sitting up and wiping her filthy hands on her filthier jeans. "This is gonna be fun to get off."

Don't picture her in the shower, don't picture her in the shower, don't picture her in the--

"You okay over there, Munson?"

No.

"Yeah," he lies.

She laughs again, seeing right through him, even in the dark. She hauls herself up off the ground, then reaches for his hands.

"If you pull me down again, there will be hell to pay," she warns.

Eddie grins and takes her hands, careful not to push his luck and pull her back down. When he rises, he wraps her in a muddy hug. She rests her head against him, hugging him around the middle and sighing happily into his chest.

Eddie Munson is in love.

And the feeling is mutual.

[mullermilkshake]

It's not stalking, it's caring.

You’ve escaped him once. What will Levi do to get you back?

Levi Ackerman / Fem! Reader DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,Misogyny,Breaking and entering,Stalking,Sex toys,Dirty thoughts,Possessive.Violent thoughts

<<< For more Levi content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

Levi was on his way to his love, his darling, his one and only and words couldn’t even begin to describe what he would do. There was of course a mental list of what he wanted to do to you after your time apart, but he couldn’t even bring the words out. 

Admittedly, it took him a little longer than expected to find your new address. A high rise apartment in the city which at first, he definitely disapproved of you overspending on the budget to move out here. He knew you needed a little space, but the entire building was a shitty mess. 

There wasn’t even staff to man the door, just an office in the back no one emerged from.

The fucking elevator didn't even work properly, Levi dreaded to think how exhausted you would get walking up and down from the twelfth floor every day. Though maybe it was best that you didn’t use the metal box of death to get from A to B. 

He would remind himself to pay the maintenance man a visit before he left and give him a stern word to get the stupid thing fixed. That way, he wouldn’t need to kill him if it hurt someone. And knowing his luck with how clumsy you were, it was be guaranteed to be you. 

Lazy bastard, just fix the thing and get off your ass.  

Like he was working anyway. Levi passed the open office door and saw the fat lump gobbling away his food, leaving crumbs and grease all over the keyboard, probably watching porn. Absolutely disgusting. 

Levi had worked out a lot more than before and even tried to set a record as he sprinted the stairs to the apartment door. One minute forty. 

He smirked at his phone screen, knowing he could easily half it if he really broke out a sweat, he wasn’t even out of breath. The weight and endurance training really paid off, and he was certain he was much stronger than he had been a year ago. 

Wandering down the narrowed, dingy hall, he found the number he was looking for and knocked it lightly. He didn’t want to give you too much of a fright, poor little mouse, even the slightest noise spooked you, the surprise he was there was enough to give you a heart attack. 

You’ll be so happy to see me though. 

Levi frowned at the lack of movement behind the door. He was sure you’d be in, with your inactive social life, always home waiting for him. He knocked again, harder this time, but no sounds followed. 

He knelt down and rummaged around under the mat at the foot of the door, and there it was. A beautiful silver key taped underneath. It slid in perfectly, clicked open with ease and once he stepped over the threshold, the wall of your smell hit him. 

Everyone had a smell. And your’s was the only one he could tolerate and lust over. A simple smell, yet so alluring without any body odour in sight. An incense hadn’t been long lit, your favourite lavender scent placed neatly on a side table. 

Shit, you were forgetful. The stick had dropped ash all over the table and god forbid it turned into a real life fire hazard, Levi couldn’t bear it. He swept it up quickly and replaced the burnt out one for a fresh one. 

“Hey. I’m back.” His voice only echoed and the signs of life he’d always picked up on were non-existent. 

He closed the door and went on the hunt. Perhaps you were hiding again? Though you were never really good at it, he always found you.

Creeping silently down the hallway, he listened out for you. “Hey.” His tone became stern.

The bedroom door was left ajar, and he spotted the messy unkempt bed first. Tutting away, he took it upon himself to give this nice gesture for free, stripping the sheets and making it up all perfect whenever you decided to make an appearance. 

Your room was a perfect mirror image of yourself and it satisfied him stepping foot into your life again. Levi noticed you still had the god awful string lights over her head board, the type with honeybees on each LED to make it look aesthetic. 

What they were, was a choking hazard waiting to happen, not to mention the bee’s sharp edges would catch on your fine hair if you flopped into bed too quickly. 

Those simply had to go. 

He pulled the plug out and screwed them up into a ball, taking them to the kitchen before going at them with scissors. That way, you couldn’t defy him and put them back up when he wasn’t looking. He doesn't need a call in the early hours of the night that you’d gotten the childish things wrapped around your neck. 

If he was one of the controlling types, he might have gotten jealous over it. His hands were the only thing that belonged around your throat, and if you tempted him enough, he’d certainly show you how to do it properly. 

Levi went in again and rummaged around until he arrived at your bedside drawer. Inside contained your underwear. There were only two pairs there that he considered unnecessary, something only a whore would wear, sewn in with lace patterns which left nothing to the imagination. 

Who the hell would you wear those for?  

He pulled out his phone to call you, chew you out for whatever fucking game you were playing, but something caught his eye. On inspection, it was a vibrator. 

“You filthy girl.” 

Picking it up to look closer, he imagined what you’d look like, laying in bed in the early hours of the morning, moaning his name on the verge of orgasm and biting on your finger to keep yourself quiet.

God he wanted to taste you so bad, and you never put out for him to do so, it was the cruellest joke of edging anyone could imagine. He took the chance while he could. 

And he was sorely disappointed when it touched his lips, the blandness of its silicone body had no traces of what he imagined you would taste like. He was foolish in thinking an object could even amount to what the real deal would be like. 

“Shit.” 

He pulled out the trash bag from a small glittery bin by the side of the bed and tossed the vibrator in there, and by the time he was done with the bedroom, he had collected quite the contraband to throw away. 

Your underwear had gone in, two tops that were way too short, high heels, a card that said way too much from some girl, and a torn photo of you and another man who he didn’t care to know.

Levi put the other half of the photo of your face in his pocket and continued through the apartment. He even took it upon himself to clean your bathroom, wiping off the steamed beads from the shower glass and moving his fingers over the bathroom mirror as a message. 

A crudely drawn heart with the letter L and a kiss next to it. Levi placed his hand flat on the mirror, recalling how you always loved the sweet little messages he left. He wasn’t exactly romantic, but he did his best to satisfy your fickle nature. 

A lot of the time you gave him whiplash, which he assumed it was hormones or whatever that disgusting period stuff was about. The thought of blood there repulsed him, but for you, he could tolerate it. 

Some days you were more calm than others and would have quite the civil conversation, but others, though he’d done nothing wrong, you wouldn’t want to see his face. He guessed it was just a woman thing, they were a completely different breed, so indecisive about what they wanted.

Levi, on the other hand, knew exactly what he wanted. 

You.

But he didn’t stop there either, seeming you were taking your time to come home, he made his way into the kitchen and took a sharpie to the whiteboard hanging on the wall by the fridge. 

I adore you.  

He stood back to admire his penmanship. “Perfect.” But he stopped. There on the board we’re his other words of affection. 

Though they’d been rubbed clean, there were still residual marks underneath. But you’d written all over it. 

“I do all this for you. You could at least give me something back in return.” 

With a huff, he noted down your scheduled dates for the month, doctors appointments, work shifts and all other things a person with your poor brain wouldn’t remember. 

Today was blank though, it had been a few hours and you still hadn’t returned. To be away this long with no social life, Levi concluded you must be at work. And by the name on the calendar, it was a cafe right around the corner. 

Perfect. 

Just before he could leave, Levi wandered over to the home phone. He couldn’t just base his whole day on contacting you on just your mobile, what if it broke? Or if it was stolen? How could you call him when you needed him then?

Tapping at the buttons, the ring dial played, delaying a moment until Levi’s own mobile vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out and immediately saved the contact in his list, now next in the contact list with your mobile phone number he’d collected from social media. 

“Now, I can hear your voice whenever I want.” 

Collecting his things and throwing away what you couldn’t have, he left in search of you. He put the key back, because he knew you would get pissy if he didn’t put it back exactly as it was. 

He would also stop by a florist on the way over, bring them into the workplace, it was a sure fire way to lift your day. Especially after dealing with asshole customers that always tried hitting on you. 

That pissed off Levi the most. 

Others touching things that didn’t belong to them. 

He had snapped a few fingers in the past when one of those beasts put their hands on his love. Men these days knew nothing of manners, and their pathetic brain cells only proved useful when their big ass knuckles dragged the ground. 

No, no. They only took, with puffed out chests to make themselves look bigger, specifically in front of Levi. But what they didn’t know is that he would already think of a hundred ways to kill them before they could even say a word. 

Not that he followed through on those urges of course, he was as calm and collected as always, but his mind never shied away from the potential of something more violent. 

Sunflowers. Sunflowers were your favourite, they represented loyalty and adoration. Everything Levi was. When he found out the meaning, he’d taken to every flower magazine and blog to understand why and know which ones to avoid. 

Like Hyacinth’s. Hyacinth’s symbolised regret. And there wasn't anything you could regret. Not with Levi in your life. 

The brass bell dinged in a tone Levi could only describe as putrid. The inside hall had dulled making the ringing boring and lifeless. Though, he supposed it was only fitting to go with the grimy worktops and tables, and the peeling paint at the corners of the walls. 

“Table for one darlin’?” A waitress said, slipping her notebook from the depths of her apron pocket with a smile sweeter than sugar. 

It made Levi sick. How many men had she done this to? All for a tip at the end. How desperate. 

“I’m not eating.” He lifted the sunflowers, and showed her he was here for more than just a slice of cheesecake. “I’m here to see someone.” He lifted a picture of you up to her face. “I understand they’re working today.”

“Uh…” She paused like a deer in headlights. “Could ya wait here just a minute, I’ll check if they’re in.” Scurrying away, she pushed the back door open with speed to make it swing a few times until it stopped. 

Honestly, the incompetent was rife with this one. How could she not know if you were in? Just one look at you would make you unmistakable. 

Unless she was hiding you from him? Now that would really piss him off. He waited for a moment, laid the sunflowers on the counter which caused a few petals to drop, and tapped his foot impatiently waiting for you to burst through the doors and await his embrace. 

But you never did. Just the pathetic excuse for a woman that spoke to him previously. How she could work in service with scruffy hair slipping from her ponytail was beyond him, not to mention the grease marks on her apron. 

“Sorry darlin.” Her jaw moved with chewing gum, making his brain scratchy. “They won’t be in at all this week. Would ya like to leave a message so I can give it to them when they’re back?” 

Levi hesitated before he spoke, he could easily overpower her and check the back himself. But, he was a man of morals. He wouldn’t dare touch another woman, what would you say? 

“No. I’ll come back next week.” 

Leaving the flowers where they were, he left the diner with the sleeve for his jacket covering his hand. That was so he could actually pull the handle to leave, he couldn’t bear to touch the sticky substance. 

With a huff, he headed home, he’d try again to see you and would keep doing so until you answered him. If someone needed space, then that was what they did, and he understood. But space didn’t mean a new fucking city. 

And the longer you kept him waiting, the thinner his patience would stretch.

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[yikesharringrove]

steve and billy teaching in the same school!! there's these teachers in my school and they work right across the hall from each other. they're always yelling into each others classrooms.

she teaches english lit 101 and he teaches gov 102

"Harrington!"

Some of the kids snickered quietly when Mr. Harrington jumped at the shout from across the hall.

He stared blankly at the last word he had written on the board, the black Expo mark wiggles from where he had jumped at the yell of his name.

He turned around, sighing exaggeratedly at Mr. Hargrove standing in the doorway.

"Kids, excuse my coworker here." He crossed his arms around his chest. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can Mr. H."

Steve rolled his eyes as his husband swaggered into his classroom, leading a line of ninth graders with him.

It's not the first time Billy's interrupted his class with a question about some inane bullshit that launched Steve into an over-excited rant for the rest of class.

Steve's tenth and eleventh graders were already closing their textbooks, knowing their teacher was just about to be insanely distracted for the rest of class.

"The birds n' I are reading The Crucible."

Fuck.

Steve's pretty sure Billy's kids pay him to bring them across the hall for these impromptu lectures.

"Witch hunts. I get it."

"Yeah, you know. Anyway, I'm giving some context to the publishing of the book. The Red Scare in the United States, well, the second Red Scare, as well as the rise of McCarthyism coincided with the publishing of the play."

Goddammit.

Steve's fucking master's thesis was on all about McCarthyism (more specifically, how the second Red Scare was directly linked to the Lavender Scare.) He cited the stupid play in his research.

Billy knows that. They were already engaged by the time Steve began his master's program.

Fuck this guy, for real.

Steve quietly closed his power point presentation on interest groups in America.

"Fine. Mr. Hargrove's class, find a seat. My class, your packet is still due Friday. I'll post the slides after class." He glared at Billy.

Billy grinned right back, his tongue poking out in that frustrating way it has since high school.

"1950s United States. What do you know?"

A few hands went up.

Even Billy raised his stupid hand. Steve ignored him.

-

"Which brings us to the end of the decade. With the early 1960s, we have the reformation in the Catholic Church, known as Vatican ll-"

The bell cut him off mid-sentence, and there was a mad scramble as the students all tried to pack up as quickly as possible, before Steve could keep going.

"My class," he nearly shouted over the scraping of chairs against linoleum. "Your packets are still due Friday! I don't care that Mr. Hargrove interrupted our time."

"And birds! The rubric is posted on the class page! I want outlines handed in on Tuesday."

The classroom door closed behind the final kid.

"You're a dick."

Billy laughed.

"Nah, you just teach that shit so much better than I do."

Steve rolled his eyes. He sat behind his desk, yanking over a stack of twelfth grade research assignments to begin grading. Billy perched on the other side of his desk.

"Y'know, you could just ask me to come in and lecture. You don't have to interrupt my own class."

"Yeah, but it's fun to wind you up and watch you go. And I think the birds like it when they see that you're passionate about something. Why do you think I always start with The Joy Luck Club?"

"Because you have mommy issues."

"No. Because Ying-ying's story makes me sob like a bitch, and the birds get to realize that I'm a real-life human."

Steve scrubbed his face with his hands, collecting himself before facing his dumbass husband again.

"Wait, you said they had an essay due. What's the essay?"

"Oh, comparing the Salem Witch Trials and the goings on of the U.S. government in the mid 1950s. You know."

"So, you created an assignment, knowing that I would infodump all that shit to your kids?"

"Yes."

"I want a divorce."

Billy laughed, leaning over Steve's desk to kiss his forehead.

"No, you don't."

"No, I don't. I love you. But also you suck."

The bell sounded to indicate the end of passing period.

Billy got off the desk, stretching with a groan.

"Would you be mad if I brought my senior class in?"

Steve glared at him in the doorway.

"What's the assignment?"

"They're presenting on the parallels between 1984 and the current political climate."

Goddammit.

"Bring 'em in."

[heylittleriotact]

snippet sunday (but monday, because it's a holiday)

Still plugging away at the next chapter of i heard people are dying to get in here. Hoping to have it ready this week. But here's an appetizer in the mean time.

Sorry I've been so quiet/inactive lately. Super busy with work/life/etc. I miss you guyyyyys <3

The hours ticked away filled with delicious drinks, festive music, and a sumptuous cheese fondue shared at the table in the breakfast nook. Emmrich had wanted to set the sprawling ebony dining room table for their dinner due to the holiday, but Rook insisted on the smaller one: it was more intimate - simpler… the way she liked it.  

The name of the game on Wintersend was killing time with your loved ones until midnight, or more precisely - the middle of the longest night of the year. The darkest hour. The blackest day. But on the other side of that twelfth chime was change: the infinitesimal tilt in the planetary axis towards a day that would not be so dark, and a sunrise that would appear only a few seconds earlier than the last, over and over again until the pendulum swung the other way and there was more light than darkness in a day.  

A cyclical reminder - held dear by Nevarrans - that harkened to their deeply rooted appreciation for the order of things: life and death; the changing of the seasons; and the sanctity of the Great Mysteries beyond their knowledge or control.

The stroke of midnight also meant gifts - it was considered bad luck to exchange them any earlier in the day.

Try telling that to a five-year-old who’d spent the entire day getting utterly wired on sugar and anticipation - Rook remembered being small and chomping at the bit before she could even tell time.  

“Soon?” She’d ask her Dad from her cross-legged vigil in front of the digital clock on the VHS player in their living room.

“You asked me that thirty-seconds ago,” he’d laughed. “The number hasn’t even changed. It’s still 10:21.”

Things were quite a bit different for a twenty-five year-old who was desperately in love and well into the third bottle of wine that had been opened and shared that night.

She was oblivious to the clock on the wall behind her that read 12:07 as she straddled the skinny hips of the man who’d opened and poured the wine, making out with him like their lives depended on it, their most recent hand of Wicked Grace forgotten on the table behind her.

Emmrich was fucking garbage at cards.

The least she could do to take the sting away from his fourth consecutive loss was give him a kiss - he was so graceful in defeat… and everything else.

She whined against his lips, both her hands woven in his hair, kissing him ardently as he clutched the table with one hand to keep the chair they both occupied from tipping backwards due to her enthusiasm.

He just looked so sad...

How could she not plant herself on his lap and lick the frown off his face?

She coaxed a muffled and rather surprised grunt from him when she rolled her hips against his. His fingers tightened on her ass and he flinched slightly, jolting the table and causing the Bordeaux in their glasses to sway.

He seemed to summon the willpower required to pull away from her at last, and looked up at her, head tipped back enough that his lips were out of her reach.

“Don't you want to open your gift, my dear?”

When he looked at her like that - down his nose with half-lidded eyes… a bit smarmy… no. No she didn’t.

“This gift?” She purred, hand resting over his semi-hard cock.

His head tipped forward, and a few strands of hair that Rook had disheveled slipped over his brow. “As deeply flattering as it is to know that I’m all you wanted for Wintersend, I did think to buy you something that falls outside the definitions of carnality.”

“Shame - I was gonna give you sex for Wintersend: a hard, sloppy fuckin’.” She clicked her tongue and shook her head. He pinched her side and her foot jerked up so hard it hit the bottom of the table. “Ah! Fuck! Asshole.”

Emmrich reached past her to steady a wobbling wine glass. “Careful, darling. Wouldn’t want to make a mess, now would we?”

“‘Wouldn’t want to make a mess’,” Rook parroted, doing a ridiculous imitation of Emmrich’s voice, letting out a clipped yelp when he dug his fingers into her side again, taking full advantage of the exact spot he knew was incredibly ticklish.

“Keep that up and I’m not giving you your present at all!” She panted.

“Ohhhh - so you did get me a gift?” Teeth flashing as he went to tickle her again and she batted his hands away.

“Well… I got one for Manfred. He’s been such a good boy, you see.”

His hand stilled. “Did you really?” 

“Of course I did. Can you imagine being subjected to those sad green eyes while he longingly watches us open our gifts? I can be bitchy, but I’m not mean.”

“Rook…” a sappy smile pulled at his lips. “That’s incredibly heartfelt of you. You didn’t have to.” 

“Don’t thank me till you see what it is."

"Oh dear."

"Don't worry - it's nothing too dangerous." She slid off his lap and straightened, grooming some of his hair back into place simply to enjoy the softness of it again. "I'll go get it... and I suppose the thing I got for you too..."

[fleetn-crab85]

“You’re the only fool I know deserves that kind of luck.”

The Long, Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora / The Fool Tarot Card / Michael Nesmith, Drury Lane Concert / Nine Times Blue / The Bacchae / Twelfth Night / As You Like It / The Prison photoshoot / Magical Mystery Tour / The Long, Sandy Hair of Neftoon Zamora

[broken-spirit101]

entangled—how? PM!Dazai X Reader Series

A/N: Yes. I'm turning this into a series. But most parts will probably be short like this—I've realized they're better suited for my routine (and attention span). We're... going somewhere with this. For sure. Even with these broken parts.

Rereading the same book for the third time.

"...And a fine thing, too, in a way; but we can't even make mistakes on our own account! Talk nonsense, but talk your own nonsense, and I'll kiss you for it. To go wrong in one's way is better than to go right in someone else's. In the first case you are a man, in the second you're no better than a bird..."

Many would disagree, but Crime and Punishment was addicting for you.

The paranoia, the guilt, the confusion, the alienation—

all too familiar.

"Truth won't escape you, but life can be cramped."

Raskolnikov reminded you... of a relic from the past.

Perhaps that relic was you.

"...It's a scandal! Do you know the sort of people they take in there? And you his betrothed! You are his betrothed? Yes? Well, then, I'll tell you, your fiancé is a scoundrel."

And some of its chaos? Gave you a sense of déjà vu, almost. From where, you couldn't recollect. But from somewhere, that much was certain.

As if they belonged from a past life you could not remember.

Like seven crows screeching out their cries on a cloudy day, the sunlight trying too hard to tear through, but ending up internally bleeding. Almost.

Like... thoughts rotting in the brain.

Too wrapped up in your own thoughts, daydreaming of another world, how could you have heard the distant calls from another land?

"Ow!" You cried out, holding the back of your head after a certain ginger hit you too hard. "What's your problem? Jeez."

"You. You're the problem," Chuuya glared at me. "We're leaving. Your constant zoning out can get you killed. I don't want to deal with another dead body."

You were about to shout back at him, but blowing up after the last sentence he said felt wrong. So you bit back your snarky response. "Fine."

He sighed. "Thankfully, you'll be paired with that shitty Dazai this time. Good riddance. Good luck, dealing with him."

"Wait—wait. Chuuya," you called out to him, who was already walking away.

He paused. "Tch. What is it?"

"Where are you gonna be at? Where are you leaving for?"

"None of your business," he rolled his eyes, "Rookies don't need to know."

"Fuck you too."

"Likewise, [name]."

And he slammed the door shut, the walls trembling for a second. Gravity use was not recommended for shutting walls.

It was still a big mystery, how you ended up getting there. Life is unpredictable, for sure.

And strangely gives you a sense of giddiness.

"WE HAVE NO CRAB TODAY?!?" came a distressed voice for the third day in a row.

Previous: twelfth, again? PM!Dazai X Reader : the first meet

[idontknowreallywhy]

Shine

This little scene arose out of a discussion with @edutainer2022 about a headcanon we share re the boys’ Mom and this lovely fic.

Fluff, with the tiniest glimmer of sad (only just because I love her but she’s no longer with them).

Featuring tiny feral toddler Scotty and a very much besotted husband 💙🤍💕

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

The speaker paused, her eyes twinkling as they always did when she knew the punchline and couldn’t wait to tell it. She completed the joke to an appreciative roar of laughter, a smattering of applause and one enthusiastic whoop.

Jeff wasn’t convinced that more than 50% of the room could actually have entirely got it… niche was an understatement. She’d had to explain several recent controversies from the world of experimental astrophysics to him last night before he appreciated that that particular part of the twelfth rewrite of her speech was actually funny on three different levels… but it didn’t matter.

You didn’t have to be married to this woman to know she could read out a grocery list and carry the adoring audience along with her. There was a reason it was the keynote after all.

She’d been so nervous. Same as she was before every paper she’d presented in all the time he’d known her. She’d agonised over the content of every class she’d given, no matter how small. He’d watched her pace the floor for a fortnight, glaring at her tablet in between bouts of frantic typing and clutching at her increasingly wild hair as she growled “WHY ME?” at the ceiling.

“Because you’re brilliant and they love you.”

This had become Jeff’s habitual refrain as he multitasked to perfection - simultaneously reassuring his wife while retrieving their tiny son from the top of the bookcase, the window ledge or, on one notable occasion which thankfully she still knew nothing of - inside the fridge.

She’d huff, never believing him. And yet, as he presumed was the case every time, as soon as she started speaking she relaxed.

And she shone.

Dr Lucille Tracy hadn’t taken the guest lectureship with much thought to the actual ‘lecturing’ part of it at all. That was just the quid pro quo. The offer of a close collaboration with those at the cutting edge of her field, the unparalleled opportunity to continue her research with the help of the brightest young minds - it should have been a no-brainer.

In the ordinary circumstances of their life, however, it would have been far too much alongside the remote but demanding day job at NASA, the all-day-and-most-of-the-night job raising a toddler whirlwind and the exhausting 24/7 secret mission of growing his sibling.

Jeff melted a little more as the love of his life shifted her stance behind the lecturn and ran a hand absently over the rapidly increasing bump. Alright, so they were probably long past the covert stage of that one now… she complained she was heavy and slow but was overtly glowing with life.

Again, Jeff thanked the stars she loved so much (and which she absolutely refused to countenance having any impact on their luck whatsoever don’t be ridiculous, Jefferson) that he’d had a well-timed hiatus in missions necessitated by the development and testing of the longer range craft that would hopefully carry him on the next one. He’d taken some rather belated paternity leave and insisted she take up the offer. And here they were.

And she was good at it. Very good.

Jeff had done public speaking training both at college and for work and he knew every trick in the book. But there were things that couldn’t be taught. Some things weren’t tricks after all.

He got the respect, sometimes a little awe from the younger ones. People followed Jeff because they respected him, because he spoke persuasively and, well, because he told them to. They hung on Lucy’s every word because her natural warmth and playfulness drew them in and the fact she seemed somehow to care deeply for each of them meant they stayed. That what she said was brilliant was almost secondary. The fact they happened to be learning from the best was a by-product. People just wanted to be near her.

It was the very reason he’d walked straight past his usual table in the NASA cafeteria that day, and found himself sat amongst a group of strangers listening to her tell some story about a cat in the observatory… or possibly it was a raccoon… he forgot the details but it didn’t matter. He was caught in her orbit and hadn’t regretted it for a second.

Despite the fact this wasn’t even a lecture, only a welcoming speech and that frankly they’d listen to and love any old thing she could come up with - Lucy redrafted and redrafted right up to the last minute, searching for the perfection she felt she owed them. Jeff, more of a rock up and wing it kind of guy, was occasionally exasperated but couldn’t ever convince her it was good enough to leave well alone.

He’d finally persuaded her to grab a couple of hours sleep when Scott had scaled his patently falsely marketed ‘unclimbable toddler gate’ and leaped into bed between the two of them. The kid even wriggled in his sleep. Jeff supposed they should be thankful the tiny flailing elbow hadn’t given her a black eye for her big day.

Their son squealed and bounced excitedly in his Dada’s arms and pointed up at Mommy’s face smiling down at them from the enormous screen and then at the smaller 3D figure on the stage. Jeff knew he shouldn’t really have brought him, but both sets of grandparents had been unavailable and Lee had looked frankly terrified at the prospect of solo responsibility for preventing young ‘Steve’ from leaping off high objects. There were some things you just didn’t inflict on your wingman. He redirected the little guy’s kicking feet from the poor chap in the next seat and helped them find the ground but kept a firm grip on his shoulders

“I know, Scotty, she’s wonderful isn’t she?” He murmured. “But we have to be quiet so everyone can hear her ok?”

The little boy nodded seriously and stood, jiggling quietly between Jeff’s knees, his rapt attention on the screen, his little fists opening and closing by his sides.

Jeff had lost the thread of the speech for a moment, he already knew it so well he hadn’t really been listening to the words as much as the cadence of her voice.

Clearly everyone else had though, as a sudden swell of chattering indicated they were following her instruction to spend five minutes discussing some particular point with their neighbour. It was a cunning ploy to give her chance to take a breath, a swig of water and to check through her mostly abandoned notes to ensure she hadn’t missed anything important.

Jeff bent to help Scott retrieve the multitude of brightly coloured plastic aircraft scattered across the floor in front of them before they became a trip hazard. At least their seats at the far end of the front row meant there was plenty of room for a little chaos.

An elderly gentleman tapped him on the shoulder, a look of expectation on his face and Jeff raced to remember what the prompt had actually been about. He failed, but scrabbled to introduce himself anyway, basking a little in the spark of recognition at the surname and the fact that in this crowd it was his connection to Her that merited it, rather than the minor NASA-specific fame that was attached to anyone who’d spent serious time on Alfie.

He smiled encouragingly as his neighbour launched into an excitable tirade about gamma ray bursts and wondered how far through the five minute break they were. Maybe he should take the opportunity to sneak one of Scotty’s snacks out of the small bag stashed under his chair. As soon as there was a decent gap in this chap’s monologue he’d apologise and…

The atmosphere suddenly changed as the hundreds of conversations shifted in tone from academic to amused with a heavy smattering of “awwwww!” The garrulous gamma enthusiast stopped and looked up and Jeff seized his moment, grabbing a cereal bar with his left hand and reaching for his son with the other.

The right hand closed on air.

Oh.

Oh no.

Oh he had messed up so very, very badly.

Reluctantly lifting his eyes to the only raised object in the room he was just in time to see the curly-haired Houdini complete his speed-toddle across the huge stage and leap into the arms of his crouching Mommy, who looked up and raised a mildly exasperated eyebrow in the direction of his guilt-ridden but helpless father.

He went to stand and approach the front of stage to retrieve his wayward offspring but she shook her head ever so slightly and stood up, hefting Scott a little higher so that his little legs straddled her swollen belly and turned back to the podium.

“I’d like to introduce you all, in person, to my most devoted research assistant. Some of you may remember him from such video conferences as “the one where the laptop learned to fly”, or “the one with the high pitched screaming” and not forgetting my personal favourite “the one with the minor explosion”… say hello to the nice astrophysicists, Scotty.”

There was more laughter, applause and a few more enthusiastic whoops. One of those might have been Jeff.

Scott, who had been making a grab for the microphone looked up at the sudden cacophony and blinked rapidly in the lights. He caught sight of his Dada and waved manically and Jeff couldn’t do anything other than wave back. His wife, free hand resting on the top of the podium, caught his eye and the soft little crinkles at the corners reassured him she wasn’t at all cross and the subtle little three-finger wave in his direction told him how glad she was he was there.

Lucy lifted her gaze to the rest of the audience and cleared her throat.

“Anyway… back to pulsars.”

The captivated crowd immediately silenced as she leapt again into the detail of the research group’s recent discoveries. She showed the way, they followed.

She carried them all with her.

Filled with pride, Jeff drifted to the sound of her voice and luxuriated in the invisible warmth she radiated, strong enough to bathe every soul in the room.

***

The assembled delegates laughed again and applauded and the speaker grinned. The noise died down slowly and he waited for absolute silence, eyes twinkling in the way they always had when he knew the punchline and couldn’t wait to share it. Of course, half the audience were TI employees and knew precisely what the CEO was unveiling - many of them had been working on it for months after all. And yet there wasn’t a metaphorical buttock in the auditorium that wasn’t perched on the edge of its metaphorical seat. It was just the way of things - he showed the way, they followed.

He carried them all with him.

“Anyway… back to that little announcement I promised you.”

There were a few whoops (one might have been Jeff).

The keynote speaker looked up and caught his father’s eye, the soft little crinkles at the corners revealing how delighted he was to see him there. Scott raised three fingers from the edge of the lectern in a subtle salute before continuing.

Filled with pride, Jeff drifted to the sound of his voice and luxuriated in the invisible warmth his son radiated, strong enough to bathe every soul in the room.

And she shone.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

[exolocke]

Zenless Zone Zero: Immortalized (Male Reader fanfic)

A/N: This prologue takes place under a couple of POV’s none of them being (Y/N) this is more giving contexts of how Civilians see you or in this case the identity of the masked hero you are and your effects on the world around you. Chapter 1 will have you getting into story events from your/(Y/N) perspective.

It’s not just an OC tagged as X Reader

Wattpad Currently has all the Prologue + Chapter 1 and 2 as well as an attempt at a power set/kit description like agents in the game have.

This is my first time posting any of my written work so suggestions for improvement would be appreciated.

Prologue: Just an Urban Legend

Location: Twelfth Street, Janus Quarter

New Eridu is many things, the last city on Earth, constantly under threat from apocalyptic space time anomalies, but it's also brave, and her people are strong despite the constant threats, standing side by side against the potential end of everything. With every day being more a gift then a promise, one thing the people of New Eridu love is passing on their rich cultures. From recipes, to beliefs, even combat techniques, people made sure to pass knowledge down, to stop them from being lost to time. But an easy favourite were stories, from past times, or just to pass time, Urban Legends, Folk Tales, Comics, and Movies. (a promise of a brighter day some would say)...

Within a apartment complex in the Janus Quarter, under the bright light of a kitchen, as the last hints of sunlight hang in the sky. The sound of typing on a keyboard slows eventually stopping... the man sitting at his laptop ran a hand through his unwashed hair, leans back, and sighs.

"Still stuck?" A soft voice asks, coming from just behind him.

Glancing over at the TV in the living room across from him the man watches the news broadcast. Having been silenced a while ago but the Headline in big red letters was still visible on the screen.

"New Companion Hollow Erupted-20 People Still Missing"

Feeling his wife's arms wrap around him from behind finally gives him the final push he needs to say what he's thinking. "People need hope... I write these articles so that people don't give up... but the more this happens the more it feels like I'm just covering the same points with different words. And each time it gets harder to do."

Taking a deep breathe and resting her head on her husbands shoulder, she took some time thinking of what to say, looking at what her husband typed so far. Urban Legends... "Maybe you just need to take it from a different point of view... give them a story, instead of reiterating the H.I.A. has it under control."

"And how should I go about getting this different point of view?"

"Why don't you go tell Sonya a bedtime story and see how you feel when you come back?"

Taking off his glasses and rubbing his face. "Yeah... I can do that, maybe it will get me out of this rut."

A tired smile graces his wife's face. "Good, having her home from school all day has her wired... so good luck." Giving him a strong peck on his cheek before watching her husband getting up and heading to their daughters room.

Approaching his daughters bedroom he slips back on his glasses as he gets to the door.

"Knock Knock darling." He said while rapping on the door with his knuckles. He heard some giggling coming from her room before his daughter called out. "Come innnnn Papa." With a chuckle he opened the door to Sonya's room.

As he stepped into his daughters room he found Sonya laying on her stomach at the foot of her bed colouring a drawing intently.

"Darling, time to go to sleep , I know you want to finish your drawing but it's bedtime now." His daughters gaze immediately shooting up to him from the page in front of her, a pleading look in her eye. "Sorry Darling but you can finish it tomorrow... on the bright side, I've been sent to tell you a story."

As he watched a big smile break out across his daughters face. "Can it be about The Saint!?!"

He couldn't help the sigh that escaped him... before a mirthful smile graced his face. "Of course it can but you need to get in bed first." Watching as Sonya immediately leapt up from the floor, putting her crayons and drawing on her desk and flinging herself onto her bed as fast as she could.possibly ... now waiting with an expectant look on her face

"Under the covers." He said with a chuckle, as he watched his daughter wriggle herself under her blankets.

"Ok.. good now let's see... last time we did Saint v.s. The Corrupted Subway didn't we?" Looking over at his daughter as she nodded expectantly, he decided to walk over and take a seat at his daughters desk in front of her.

As she held the obviously handmade Saint doll tightly to her chest. "How about... how about instead of Saint v.s. something we do Saint saves the day?"

————————————————————————

Location: Lemnian Companion Hollow, (Unnamed)

Footsteps thundered behind us as we ran as fast as we could, weaving between construction supplies and equipment. Taking a quick glance over my shoulder at my pursuers... "Fuck!!" Eight Ethereals-!? *THUMP* slamming into Jace in front of me, I looked up at the three massive walls surrounding us on all sides... "A Dead End!?! DOUBLE FUCK!!!" I hissed.

"Come on get up!!" Caleb grunted pulling both Jace and I back onto our feet. "We have to get out of here before they cut us off!" He stated, but before we could even turn around we heard it. "RHAAAAH!!!" a screech cut through the air behind us, spinning on my heels I looked back the way we came.

We were already surrounded... "Triple Fuck." Those two words barely left my lips before the first Ethereal charged at us. It was nearly on me in an instant, two bladed arms shooting out at me. For a moment I thought I saw a blurring of movement just off to the right, but it didn't matter, this was it. This is how it ends—

*BANG* The sound rang out louder than a gunshot. In a blur of Blue and Gray the Ethereal was slammed into the wall on my left. Cracks spiralling outwards from the impact. And there, standing in the settling dust was a man clad in Gray and Blue tactical gear. Gray cargo pants tucked into black combat boots, what could only be described as a utility belt with countless pouches on it, a gray armoured vest over some sort of blue metallic shirt, and brown leather bracers.

"You're The Saint." Caleb all but whispered.

"You- you're real?" I stuttered out, more a question than a statement.

"Holy shit." Jace echoed his disbelief.

Everything felt like it was standing still for a moment, the Ethereals processing this new threat as he pulled his tower shield free of the wall he used to flatten the first Ethereal, it was beautiful, shaped like two overlapping wings, a beautiful blue metal. There was barely a second to appreciate the craftmanship before combat erupted again.

An Ethereal with clubbed hands charged and swung wildly at The Saint, moving with practiced ease he weaved under the blow and getting behind the first Ethereal and planting a hefty kick to its back, sending it tumbling to the ground.

Quickly following the first, two Ethereals were already on top of him, parrying one with his shield using its momentum to sling it into the wall on our right, before the third could get close enough to attack, Saint reached behind him, pulling his weapon off his back, it looked like some kind of Drill-Lance hybrid. As it started to spin and shift into gear in his hand, he dashed forward with terrifying speed, driving the lance through the chest of the third Ethereal, with so much force his strike carried them back into the fourth Ethereal behind it, shredding the both of them to bits with the drilling function.

The fifth and sixth Ethereal's barely stood a chance, both charging up Ether shots, bursting against The Saints shield with little effect, neither of them got a chance for a second shot. Saint launched himself into the air with a massive leap, immediately closing the distance on Ethereal #6 and bringing the bottom of his down on its head, crushing it into a burst of Ether energy. Immediately swinging his lance to the left in a wide arc, more akin to a great sword as the spinning body of the Lance chewed into the fifth Ethereal like a paper shredder as it shuddered and crumpled to the ground.

By now both the first and second Ethereal had recovered, the second Ethereal reached The Saint first, using his shield to throw it into the air above him as the first Ethereal swung at his exposed right flank, in a flash of speed he brought up his lance to parry, grinding through the clubbed hands of the Ethereal, following up with a slash parting its torso from its waist, quickly spinning around to the Second Ethereal still laid out on the floor, driving the Drill Lance directly through it and into the ground in an eruption of multicoloured sparks.

We stood there for... a while, slack jawed as The Saint slung his Lance and Shield onto his back.

<\\You kids alright?//> his voice rung out, but it was altered, slightly garbled like a filter had been put on it... a Voice Changer..?

Looking up at him now facing us, finally getting to take in all the details of his suit. The shirt under the vest actually seemed to be some sort of scale-mail, stylized in the shape of feathers, the brown leather bracers covering his forearms and hands seeming to have more advanced tech hidden within upon closer inspection. With him now facing us I could see the mask that covered the bottom half of his face, which must be why his voice sounded odd. But the thing that stood out the most... was his glowing electric blue eyes.

Caleb was the first person to really gather his bearings. "Uh.. yes! yes we're good."

As he walked up to us I took into account just how massive he was, he had to be somewhere around 6'9. Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt he pulled out a pill bottle and tossed it to me. <\\You three have been in this Hollow a while, I suggest you each take two//> he stated.

"These are..?" I asked confused.

<\\Anti Corruption Meds//> He said, gesturing with his hand to hurry up.

"Dope." Jace whispered from behind me.

<\\Hey, that's all of them, right?//> He called over his shoulder to someone behind him.

Shortly after that a Bangboo with an knitted orange scarf came into view.

"Yes these are the last 3, we should gather with the others and make our way out of the Hollow while the carrot is still good." A relatively female voice came from the Bangboo, surprisingly, not using the typical bangboo language.

As we listened to their conversation the three of us took our Anti Corruption medication, which was particularly unpleasant without water, but hey we're alive!

"So- a Bangboo with an orange scarf?" Jace started.

"Don't PubSec and H.S.O. sources believe the Bangboo with an orange scarf belongs to the Legendary Proxy Phaethon?" I asked looking at Jace and Caleb for confirmation.

"So that's how you stay so untraceable within the hollows." Caleb mused, gesturing to the Bangboo. "The Saint and the Legendary Proxy Phaethon are a team."

The Bangboo quickly turned around to look at Caleb, almost in a panic. An impressed whistle left Saints mouth, sounding a little odd with the voice mod on his mask. <\\You put that together fast//> he seemed genuinely impressed.

"That's so Fuckin Cool!" Jace exclaimed, leaping up into the air like an excited kid. The Bangboo chimed in as it waddled up to us.

"While we appreciate the adoration you seem to hold for us, I hope you can understand how dangerous that information is." Now, a much more distinctly male voice coming from the Bangboo. As it looked over at Saint.

<\\Yeah... as much as I can appreciate how exciting it would be to go and tell everyone you know, Phaethon and I operate in the shadows doing this, so the less details the authorities have the better//>

As the Bangboo waddled back over and past Saint, Caleb spoke up. "Because your technically classified as Hollow Raiders right? Unless it's an accident that gets someone stuck in a Hollow, it's only supposed to be Law Enforcement or other Hollow related organizations in here. Which makes you being here a crime."

As Jace listened to what Caleb said he almost looked offended on Saints behalf. "But he's not a Raider, he fights Raiders! And he comes here and saves people! He isn't running a crime syndicate from here! He's more like a Hollow— oh what's the word?" Looking over to Jace I suggest. "Vigilante?"

Jace snaps his fingers shooting me finger guns. "Exactly! He helps people!"

<\\While I may be here to help, your friend is right, we are illegally in this Hollow. So just less details keep it safer for us to do our work. Vague description of features, no mention of Phaethon, etc//>

"Oh of course!! Your secret is safe with us!" Jace exclaimed, a dopey grin on his face and holding two thumbs up.

<\\Good, then we should collect the others survivors and get you all out of this Hollow//> he turned around and gestured for us to follow. <\\Follow me//> Saint called.

"I'm the one with the Carrot here Mr. so your all following me... technically." The Bangboo teased. Seemingly back to the original female voice.

————————————————————————

After about a ten minute walk we reached what seemed to be a small hardware store swallowed up by the Hollow, this is where Saint seemed to have gathered the rest of the survivors to hide, once we had got there, I counted over a dozen people, people that Saint saved.

I watched him move amongst the group of civilians, checking the on children, and elderly, along with any wounded. What caught my attention most though was his movements, they almost felt like a dancer... he wasn't dancing but he moved so elegantly, beyond how a normal person would. Always seeming to be aware of where his big freaking shield and lance were hanging when he turned, and how to not knock into anything or one, but beyond that he moved silently even with all that heavy gear, every move was purposeful and were of his surroundings. Further than that even with all that tactical gear on him, he didn't make a sound when moving, like he could be walking directly behind you and you would never know.

As he finished his rounds checking on everybody he walked back over to Jace, Caleb and I, holding a young boy in his arms, looking at the kid his clothes were covered in dried dirt, the only clean parts of him were his face and his right leg up to his knee, both seeming to have been cleaned with water and a cloth. His leg had gauze wrapped around a lot of his calf.

"How bad is he?" Caleb asked.

<\\He'll be just fine, though he won't be able to walk//> Saint paused, a look almost like guilt flashing across his face. <\\Would one of you be able to carry him? It's best for me to keep my hands free in case we face anymore danger//>

Immediately Jace stepped up in front of Saint. "I can do it, definitely." He said reaching out and scooping up the mostly dirty young boy.

<\\His name is Quinn, watch out for him//> he said a hint of relief in his voice.

With that we all gathered together and followed Saint and Phaethon in the direction they said the exit to the Hollow was.

————————————————————————

As Quinn babbled to Caleb and Jace it gave me some time to think, and that thinking led to so many questions. Saint was walking at the front of the group, not horribly far in front of us, so I sped up a bit to try and talk to him.

As I made my way up beside him, taking a deep breath I asked. "Is it ok... to ask a few questions before we get out?"

He glanced at me out the side of his eyes, before taking a sweeping look at the landscape around us. Maybe looking for threats. <[sighs]> <\\I assume these questions are about the proxies and I//>

As he asked that I glanced back at Caleb, Jace, and now Quinn as well. Seeing how they and all the other people with us were just acting like it was a casual day for a stroll.

"Why keep your existence a secret?" I questioned, deciding to rip the bandaid off right away.

"Look how safe everyone feels with you around?" "We are in a Hollow and nobody is even scared!" "People tell stories about you like they tell stories about Section 6, or- or even the Void Hunters! You give so many people hope... your a hero... but you refuse to even let them know your real." It all came spilling out so fast.

I looked up to find him looking at me... he looked sorry almost. <\\Yeah, that's a fair ask//> As he ran a hand through his hair he looked like I just added an extra hundred pounds onto his shoulders.

<\\I know it looks simple from what you've seen today and the stories that are told... but that's only the surface people know about what we do... and why we do it//> He glanced over to Phaethon's bangboo. It wasn't looking at us, but I can tell it was listening in, it had slowed its pace a small amount to walk closer to us.

<\\We never intended to play hero, saving people from Hollows. This started to find answers to something I can't tell you about. For your safety//> his tone took on a more serious weight then it had all day, he had kept up beat, to relieve us of our worries.

<\\They can't be in Hollows for long, having a low Ether Aptitude, unlike me. So Phaethon focused on learning how to navigate the Hollows, and I took it upon myself to become strong, strong enough to go into the Hollows to gather the information we needed.//> Saint seemed to be struggling to choose the right words.

"You didn't want to be some legendary hero?" I asked.

<\\Legendary is a strong word. But no, the intention was... not this. We set out to find answers to a secret...//> He paused for a moment taking a shaky breath. <\\A secret that looking into already cost people their lives. So we stay in the shadows while we look for these answers... it's safer that way//>

Now I was just confused. "If you aren't seeking to be a hero, or save people—"

<\\Why are we here//> Saint said, glancing at me as he finished my thought.

<\\Because its the right thing to do. We have the strength and skills to help, so when people are in danger we show up cause we can save lives. But there's no hunger for the glory or renown that can come with these acts of "Legendary Heroism"//> Making air quotes with his hands.

I was about to ask another question but Phaethon... or their Bangboo came to a stop.

"We're here." We were stopped in front of a car repair shop, specifically one of its garage doors. Saint stepped up to it, sticking out his hand, as a sound between a rip, and a crackle sounded out through the air, and a fissure appeared. A swirling vortex of mostly different shades of purple, but it had some pinks, blues, and other colours.

"A Fissure!" Someone in and amongst our group gasped.

<\\Looks like we made it folks, if you could all file out in a neat and orderly fashion that would be amazing. Don't want to get injured now that you basically made it out//> And there it was. His cheerful and inspiring attitude was back. As all the survivors slowly filed out of the Hollow he gave me a knowing look.

<\\Knowledge is power, the less people know about what we do the safer it is for all of us//> I nodded as he said this.

"Understood." He patted me on the shoulder, and then my friends and I, plus Quinn filed into the fissure and out of the Hollow.

As the lurching in my stomach subsided, and my eyes adjusted to the lights shining in my face we found ourself just outside of the Hollow, seeming spat out right in front of an Pubsec Encampment outside of the Hollow. H.S.O., H.I.A., and PubSec personnel were rushing around, checking the survivors that had come out first for injuries and ether sickness symptoms. Someone seemed to notice my friends and I, and was now quickly making their way to us.

————————————————————————

Location: Twelfth Street, Janus Quarter

As I finishing narrating Sonya's bedtime story, watching her sleep peacefully, silently as I could I made my way over to her, brushing some hair out of her face and kissing her forehead. I then worked my way out of her room and quietly closed the door behind me, making my way back to the living room, I was greeted to my wife curled up under a blanket reading a book. The sun had finally set completely and the room was filled with the warm glow from the floor lamp in the room. Making my way behind her I placed a kiss to the top of her head, and looked at the TV, the news broadcast, still silent but with new information glowed on the screen.

"All missing people(s) found and accounted for" but what really caught my attention was the scrolling text at the bottom of the screen.

"Claims of the Saint saving the missing people(s) and add to growing speculation on if The Saint truly exists. PubSec Officials still resolute in the claims The Saint seeming to be some sort of Shared Ether Induced Hallucination as they "Have no Evidence" that he or she truly exist."

My wife moved to slip her bookmark into her book before looking up at me. "Did you find any inspiration while you were putting Sonya to bed?"

As I chucked, leaning down to peck my wife's lips now she was facing me. "I think I might just have an idea." I whisper, moving back over to my laptop at the kitchen table.

Within an apartment complex in the Janus Quarter, under the warm light of a floor lamp, as the warped face of a moon, scarred by Hollows, climbs into the night sky the sound of typing on a keyboard resumes. This time with a certainty that could only convey a strengthened hope for a better day.

GAME START

@jacenradio7

[lua-magic]

Moon and your pending Karmas.

Moon is the most dengerous planet, as it is fast moving planet and it continuously waxes and wanes, which brings fluctuations in nature of a person and person experiences mood changes.

Now, it is proven even by scientists and by quantum physics, the reality is just our "Experiences" and this experience is shaped by "Moon" that is why everyone is experiencing different realities at the same time.

Whenever Moon is afflicted by Malefics it is most dengerous and troublesome position for moon and person experiences, suicidal thoughts, depression, OCD, financial issues, stability in life, and an

Moon is the planet that gets afflicted very quickly.

Anytime moon is debi or afflicted Jupiter also becomes afflicted because Jupiter is exalted in fourth house which is house of Moon.

Moon is exalted in second, fourth and eleventh house as well .

Moon is debi in sixth, eighth and twelfth house

"So, best remedy of Jupiter is improve your moon"

Fourth house from moon lies your pending karmas and there you will experience most problems in life.

"If your moon is in first house then fourth from moon is your fourth house".

So native experiences mental health issues like mood swings, anxiety, depression, problems with mother, OCD. So, person needs to work continuously on his mental attitude in his life.

Moon in second house

Native experiences issues with making decisions and remain confused in life, as now fifth house is getting afflicted, which house of intelligence. Most of the time, person education will not be useful and native will work in entirely different area of life. Native can get problems with his/ her child as well.

Native should read more books and continuously update his knowledge.

Moon third house.

Person would make many secret eniemies and and might suffer from health issues and debt in his life time. Person sometimes becomes too greedy, lustful and angry which is why keeps getting involved in unnecessary fights.

Person should always work on his/her own triggers and must focus on healing.

Moon in fourth house

Native experiences problems in relationships and with his/her spouse.

If person owns business or are in partnership then it creates problems in partnership as well . Moon in fourth keeps native in his/her comfort zone and makes person extremely Moody.

Native should choose his/her partners wisely.

Moon in fifth house 🏠

Here, native experiences lot of transformations and has to let go lot of emotions from him/her. Native doesn't like to show emotions in front of others but feels everything deeply inside. Person experiences lot of pressure or load in his mind

Person has anger issues , ego problem.

Native needs to do lot of shadow work so that he/she can release their emotions

Moon sixth house

Person Jupiter is getting afflicted here, so native experiences problems in long term goals, visions, problems with his/her luck and also causes problems in education.

Remedy is to follow your ritousnes and morality in your life and always make long term goals

Moon in seventh house

Moon in seventh house native (Male) gets attracted to the wife of other's married men easily it also gives native problems in jobs and profession and native continuously shifts or Changes his/her carrier.

Remedy is to learn to manage your sexual desires and choose your profession wisely.

Moon in eighth house 🏠

Moon in eighth house is not so good position for moon as person has lot of hidden emotions and traumas that he/she needs to work on. Native also faces issues with his/her gains and financial issues.

Person feels isolated and depressed and are unable to make friends in his life time.

Only remedy that can work for native is to learn astrology and occult.

Moon ninth house

Native experiences sleep related issues or bad dreams in certain cases. Native could suffer mental health issues like OCD, insomnia, and problems in bed pleasure.

Native needs to follow spirituality and do meditation.

Moon in tenth house

Person has problems with his/her personality and health issues as well

Native might be introvert, and experiences frequent weight gain and loss issues.

Native should continuosly work on his/her personality.

Moon in eleventh house.

Person experiences problems with his/her family, and problems in gains, if moon is in good position and exalted then person experiences good and sudden gains but if moon is afflicted then person experiences unstable flow of money.

Remedy is to be careful about the words you use, don't hurt anyone by your words and take care of your food habits.

Moon in twelfth house

Person experiences issues with their siblings and problems in starting any work.

Person would be too lost in his/her own thoughts and suffer from depression.

Person lacks courage and can't fight for his/her desires.

Native needs work on his/her subconscious mind .

If you love my work kindly keep supporting me, so that I can make more astrology content and help everyone.