#the affinity bridge

[ofliterarynature]

TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 6 (July 7)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, and comment if you can - a convincing sentence is worth a dozen votes! You’re also welcome to just choose the one that sounds the worst :D Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

The Affinity Bridge by George Mann

Welcome to the bizarre and dangerous world of Victorian London, a city teetering on the edge of revolution. Its people are ushering in a new era of technology, dazzled each day by new inventions. Airships soar in the skies over the city, whilst ground trains rumble through the streets and clockwork automatons are programmed to carry out menial tasks in the offices of lawyers, policemen and journalists.

But beneath this shiny veneer of progress lurks a sinister side. For this is also a world where ghostly policemen haunt the fog-laden alleyways of Whitechapel, where cadavers can rise from the dead and where Sir Maurice Newbury, Gentleman Investigator for the Crown, works tirelessly to protect the Empire from her foes.

When an airship crashes in mysterious circumstances, Sir Maurice and his recently appointed assistant Miss Veronica Hobbes are called in to investigate. Meanwhile, Scotland Yard is baffled by a spate of grisly murders and a terrifying plague is ravaging the slums of the city.

So begins an adventure quite unlike any other, a thrilling steampunk mystery and the first in the series of "Newbury & Hobbes" investigations.

Collected Ghost Stories by M.R. James

Considered by many to be the most terrifying writer in English, M. R. James was an eminent scholar who spent his entire adult life in the academic surroundings of Eton and Cambridge. His classic supernatural tales draw on the terrors of the everyday, in which documents and objects unleash terrible forces, often in closed rooms and night-time settings where imagination runs riot. Lonely country houses, remote inns, ancient churches or the manuscript collections of great libraries provide settings for unbearable menace, from creatures seeking retribution and harm. These stories have lost none of their power to unsettle and disturb.

This edition presents all of James's published ghost stories, including the unforgettable Oh, Whistle and I'll Come to You, My Lad and Casting the Runes, and an appendix of James's writings on the ghost story. Darryl Jones's introduction and notes provide a fascinating insight into James's background and his mastery of the genre he made his own.

Love Bites by Ry Herman

Angela likes Chloe. Chloe likes Angela. It should be simple enough - there's just the small matter of Angela's aversion to sunlight. And crosses. And mirrors . . .

In 1998, Angela was a smart, gothy astronomy student ­- until her then-girlfriend accidentally turned her into a vampire. A year later, she divides her time between her post-graduate degree (working on it in a dark, basement room, and only at night) and controlling her need for human blood.

Then she meets lonely but wryly humorous slush-pile reader Chloe, who's battling demons of her own. Chloe's anxiety and depression can make it hard for her to leave the house, while memories of her ex haunt her at night.

As sparks fly and romance blooms, Angela and Chloe struggle to hide their difficulties from each other - but sometimes the only way out is to let someone else in.

[ninja-muse]

TBR numbers... 230, 480, and 777?

Faint Promise of Rain by Anjali Mitter Duva - A couple years ago I realized that while I enjoy Women Being Awesome In History novels, I had mostly read books about Awesome White Ladies, so I put out a call for recs to fix that. I haven't managed to read any of the recs yet, but this was one of them.

The Affinity Bridge by George Mann - This was frequently recced during the steampunk trend of the late aughts and I liked the premise.

The Similarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien - Added this one sometime in my teens, I think, because by that point I'd read LOTR twice. I have read Part 1 of it twice and never gone further.

Thanks for asking!

Ask me things!

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Shen Yuan's status as a body-snatching entity is revealed before the Immortal Alliance Conference can happen.

Maybe the system suffers a glitch while some unforeseen side quest is active, and suddenly Shen Yuan's status is revealed and some of the other peak lords he's with seize the opportunity to exorcise his spirit and put Shen Jiu back in his place.

Shen Yuan has mixed feelings about this development, needless to say. On the one hand, it's kind of not actually that bad? He got caught out like a week away from the IAC and the necessary Abyss plotline, so at least like this, he's managed to give Luo Binghe a slightly better time on Qing Jing for the past few years and equip him more capably to survive the Abyss, but he also doesn't have to personally throw him down there. That's the silver lining.

On the other hand, everything else about this situation sucks! He got attached to his life as Shen Qingqiu, dammit! And now he's been revealed and branded as some kind of horrible demonic spirit thing, and he was rather painfully expelled (even though he wasn't even there willingly in the first place), and so he's been reduced to some a kind of sparkly ghost light hovering on the fringes of existence, highly susceptible to being harmed if any more righteous cultivators get it in their heads to disperse him!

Which is better than just being catapulted back into his rotting corpse in the other world, but not by as big of a margin as he'd like.

Basically, in terms of his ability to influence the world Shen Yuan has been downgraded back to "read only" status. He finds that he can manifest himself in places that he's already been, or around people he has a particular affinity towards, but they can't perceive him and he can't communicate or even do much more than some minor poltergeist type activity. Which he is cautious about anyway, because if he gets caught around Shen Jiu, Shen Jiu is going to disperse him with extra prejudice.

Unfortunately, nearly everything Shen Yuan cares about is in Shen Jiu's orbit.

So he can only watch, metaphorically gritting his teeth as the newly-restored Shen Qingqiu kicks Luo Binghe out of the bamboo house, burns all the bridges that Shen Yuan painstakingly rebuilt for him, refuses point blank to let Liu Qingge help with Without-a-Cure, resumes and even begins taking more frequent trips to the nearest brothels, and neglects his duties to turn into a paranoid wreck as if he half-expects Shen Yuan to steal his body back from him the next time he lets his guard down. Corporal punishment spikes back up on Qing Jing Peak.

Shen Yuan is surprised to hear the whispers of dissent, even so. A spirit possessing a righteous cultivator is a pretty damning incident, and there's no way that he could come out of it smelling like roses. And yet, even though his -- Shen Qingqiu's disciples know enough to be circumspect about saying anything of the sort, there are still murmurs and rumblings about how things used to run, not too long ago.

Ming Fan quiets any such talk as soon as he hears it. Ning Yingying scarcely seems to know how to respond to the situation, except to sometimes plaintively insist that she hadn't even noticed much change between Shen Qingqiu's at all. But Luo Binghe...

Well.

Whenever there are mutterings, it often seems as though Binghe is there. Nodding. Whispering. Carefully putting forth suggestions that others barely seem to recognize as suggestions. Shen Yuan only notices because he knows what Binghe's capable of when he decides to be manipulative, and even he finds himself wondering if it's not just a coincidence, something he's imagining, because Luo Binghe hasn't even blackened through his Abyss arc yet.

Even so, there he is, musing carefully on how strange it was that he's heard that Hong Jing hadn't identified any untoward presence in Shen Qingqiu before, how Shizun had never done anything bad to the peak despite all the claims that he'd supposedly been possessed by a malicious entity for years, and wasn't this new Shen Qingqiu acting much more suspicious? Much more malicious? Isn't is the new Shizun who jumps at shadows and talks to people who aren't there, and seems so uneasy in his own skin?

If one had to guess which version was an unstable monster possessing a human's body, and which was the righteous and noble peak lord... ah, well. It's just surprising, isn't it? Luo Binghe would of course never suggest that this new Shen Qingqiu was in actuality the being that had stolen someone else's place. He's surely never second guess the judgment of the peak lords, who claim to have let an interloper among them for YEARS in total ignorance. It's just something to think about.

Alas for Binghe, though a lot of the peak seems inclined to agree with him, he can't win over enough to inspire anything worse than discontent. The "new" Shen Qingqiu does behave a lot more like the one that most of the Qing Jing knew prior to his qi deviation, after all, and it's no mystery why Luo Binghe -- spurned former favorite, now back to being at the bottom of the pecking order -- would be unhappy with the change. Shen Yuan appreciates that this is at least doing a good job of setting up Luo Binghe's altered opinion on his shizun, and he's touched that he made a good enough impression for Binghe to be mad about the sudden regression, but he wishes he could tell Binghe that there's simply nothing to be done about it. That is the real Shen Qingqiu, and Binghe ought to concern himself more with the upcoming conference!

At least, despite being kicked out of the bamboo house, Luo Binghe managed to farm enough good opinion with some of the other disciples during his tenure as Favorite that he doesn't go back to sleeping in the woodshed. Without Shen Qingqiu expressly demanding it, no one would dare, just in case Luo Binghe might regain his status one day. There seems to be an awareness that "evil" Shizun would have made them run laps, but "good" Shizun would now probably whip them half to death in a fit of temper. No one wants to take chances.

Finally, the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around. Shen Yuan can only watch and cheer Binghe on as best as he's able to, even knowing the probable outcome. And Binghe does so well! He fights bravely but also smartly. When Shen Qingqiu arrives, Binghe doesn't lose an ounce of his caution, though he does still nobly defend his master even though the good feelings between them have dried up. He correctly identifies Without-a-Cure's flare up and silently helps compensate for Shen Jiu's weakness, and sticks by him even though the Original Goods is hardly appreciative.

When the Abyss opens up, and Luo Binghe's demonic seal is broken, Shen Qingqiu seems almost relieved to have this information brought to light. He accuses Luo Binghe not only of orchestrating the invasion of demons at the conference, but of arranging fro Shen Jiu to be replaced too.

"Of course, for a demon like you, summoning some wicked force into this master's body would be easy!" he spits.

Luo Binghe looks bowled over by the accusation. But rather than defending himself, he latches onto it as if it might be some kind of lifeline.

"For a demon like this one... it would be possible?" he echoes.

Shen Jiu hurls more accusations. Of course it is. Luo Binghe is not just any demon, but the most powerful, dangerous, and destructive sort there is. Little is beyond the scope of a Heavenly Demon's power, or wretchedness. Luo Binghe must have uncovered his heritage and seen a convenient means of ridding himself of an inconvenient master. Wherever that horrid spirit is now, it's probably just waiting for the next chance to leap back in at Luo Binghe's call!

"Shizun's spirit... that spirit from before, it still exists?" Luo Binghe catches.

"As if you don't know. Beast. Even the sect leader could not destroy your minion completely," Shen Jiu sneers.

"And it would be within my abilities to put it back in your body. Instead of you."

"You won't get the chance."

Shen Jiu stabs Luo Binghe before throwing him into the Abyss. Binghe fights back, but he seems reluctant to injure his shizun, even now.

Shen Yuan supposes that such reluctance won't survive the Abyss. Still, it's emotional for him. That such a little kindness could cause Luo Binghe to hesitate, even at this point, it really speaks to the resilience of hope in Binghe's heart.

Shen Yuan's little ghost light almost follows him down. But the Abyss would be too dangerous for him, even as he is now. He'd be a little mote of spiritual energy, easily gobbled up by any number of creatures in that place, if he wasn't just swept up by the chaotic ambient energies themselves. So he can only stay behind and think some very colorful swear words in Shen Jiu's general direction, until the rift closes and leaves no trace of Luo Binghe behind, except for the shards of Zheng Yang.

The shards are left behind. Shen Yuan finds that he has a little bit of spiritual storage space. Just enough to maybe fit all of them, so he goes and painstakingly uses his limited powers to lift up each piece and drop it in. It takes him hours and hours, but luckily the clean-up of the whole disaster is something that will take months. No one seems inclined to go reclaim Luo Binghe's shattered blade or risk getting too close to the remnants of the rift, even closed. So, Shen Yuan manages.

The next few years prove difficult. Shen Yuan finds that it's hard to retain his presence in the world. His little spirit has dampened considerably, and few things seem to perk him back up. He has more troubles following anyone who isn't Shen Jiu now that Binghe is in the Abyss, and Shen Jiu is depressing as hell to spend time around. He's rotten with kids, sucks at teaching, he has no friends, his health is deteriorating, and Shen Yuan has no interest in seeing what he gets up to in the brothels.

But Binghe is definitely coming back, and Shen Yuan wants to see him again.

His patience is rewarded the first time he finds his consciousness drifting, only to snap back to awareness in a place that's not Qing Jing Peak. He instead finds that he's in an unfamiliar patch of wilderness along a river, watching as Luo Binghe fights a small pack of demonic beasts.

It's definitely not the Endless Abyss. Has it been five years already...? Shen Yuan hadn't thought so, but then again, he's not the best at keeping track of time in this state.

Luo Binghe defeats the beasts, but they land more hits and wound him worse than Shen Yuan would have anticipated. The wounds aren't healing as quick as they should either. Was Binghe poisoned? Or is this a remnant of Shen Yuan's own poor teaching, the clumsiness in sword practice he never totally managed to correct leading somehow to this?

He gets it when Qin Wanyue and several other Huan Hua cultivators show up, however, and Luo Binghe manages to play the righteous cultivator who just survived a harrowing battle role to the hilt. It takes him very little effort to get the Huan Hua disciples to take him back with them and help "patch him up", and soon enough Shen Yuan has front row seats to watch as Binghe ingratiates himself with the sect.

Mostly, Shen Yuan is just relieved to confirm that Binghe did indeed survive, and glad that he's out of the horrible Abyss and in a place where he can rest and eat decent meals and be fawned over by his well-deserved admirers. Though Luo Binghe seems colder even than Shen Yuan expected, especially in some places where a bit of charm would serve him better. He declines outright to address the Palace Master as "shizun", even though he accepts the offer to stay as a guest disciple at Huan Hua Palace, and he is abrupt and aloof towards both Qin Wanyue and the Little Palace Mistress, despite their obvious interest in him.

Binghe doesn't seem to sleep as soundly as he should either. At night he often brings out a dream stone, which Shen Yuan recognizes as an amplification tool from the novel, but it seems that whatever Binghe is trying to search for with it is beyond his reach. Sometimes Shen Yuan imagines he can hear his disciple's voice calling Shizun at night. But always, Binghe is asleep, and there's no one in Huan Hua Palace he has deigned to address like that anyway. It's a trick of his own imagination, missing the days when Luo Binghe could call out and he himself could answer.

Things go mostly according to the plot, with a few disruptions here and there. Luo Binghe seems to be lagging behind on the romantic subplots, but rushing ahead on the vendetta against his old teacher. The Trial of Shen Qingqiu takes place at Jinlan City, with demon instigators who work for Luo Binghe accusing the peak lord of colluding with demons and setting him up to seem like he was involved in the sower attack. Shen Yuan knows, from watching Binghe, that the sower thing was mostly taking advantage of an existing situation to frame Shen Qingqiu. Binghe himself didn't have anything to do with Jinlan's suffering, but is obviously not above using it to his advantage.

Combined with Qiu Haitang's testimony, Shen Qingqiu is arrested and locked up where Luo Binghe can torture and dismember him at will.

However, Binghe... doesn't do that?

Instead he swiftly relocates Shen Qingqiu to a prison in the demon realms, and seems to abandon his concerns with Huan Hua Palace and the righteous cultivation sects altogether. He just leaves them to fight it out amongst themselves, as if he's got no concern with who comes out on top, and in the meanwhile he keeps Shen Qingqiu locked up but surprisingly well-treated?

Despite Shen Qingqiu's obvious terror and vitriol towards him, Luo Binghe forces him to eat nutritious meals, and attends to his health problems, and makes no move to injure him at all. He has nothing good to say to Shen Jiu, but he doesn't hurt him. Yet there is something distinctly weird about the whole dynamic, not at all like someone who has decided to keep a prisoner under ethical conditions for moral reasons or something like that.

Shen Yuan's not sure what to make of it.

In the end, Shen Jiu himself illuminates the situation.

It happens after Shen Jiu has rejected food. Luo Binghe tuts and asks if Shen Jiu suspects it would be poisoned. Shen Jiu sneers at him.

"I know it isn't," he says. "You wouldn't poison this body. I know what you're after."

"Oh? Wise Master Shen figured out this much?" Binghe replies, dry as the fucking desert.

"You're keeping me in this condition because you want to put that thing back in my body!" Shen Jiu accuses.

It takes Shen Yuan a moment to realize that Shen Jiu is referring to him. That he thinks Luo Binghe is keeping him fit and healthy for Shen Yuan's sake.

Wouldn't that be going too far just for some old teacher who was nice?! Yes, he knows that he made an impact on Luo Binghe, but it wasn't hard! Shen Jiu set the bar at the earth's crust, clearing it hardly required the kind of effort or devotion that would inspire an entire elaborate scheme purely on Shen Yuan's behalf!

He can't believe it.

But, Binghe doesn't deny it.

In fact he smiles, his expression somehow conveying that Shen Jiu guessed perfectly correct, but also that there's no good it can do him. Binghe has never looked so much like a piece of PIDW fanart before, with some dark and potent rage simmering just beneath the veneer of his placid smile.

"Shizun should not be referred to so impolitely," Luo Binghe counters. "If anyone in this room is a thing, it is this usurper in front of me."

"Usurper?! In my own body? You're mad."

Binghe tuts.

Master Shen should understand that his claim is contested. After all, if one woman gives birth to a child but then casts it into a river to die, but another fishes the babe out and cradles it to her breast -- which woman deserves to be called that child's mother? Just because Shen Jiu was born into that body, doesn't mean he deserves it more than anyone else.

But even if he did, Luo Binghe wouldn't care. He would kill to get his Shizun back. This isn't really so different from that, is it? And there is no love lost between him and Shen Jiu to make him hesitate. If his Shizun disagrees, he may disciple Binghe as he sees fit once he returns.

Shen Jiu points out that Luo Binghe's machinations have ruined his reputation. Even if he gets that creature to possess his body again, there's no way that they could infiltrate Cang Qiong Sect a second time.

But Binghe waves off his concerns. He clearly has thought of this, and has plans for it, but is also not about to be stupid enough to monologue any more at Shen Jiu. Once he leaves, Shen Yuan lingers for a little while, and notices that Shen Jiu actually seems genuinely concerned about what might happen to the sect if Luo Binghe succeeds and gets Shen Yuan put back on Qing Jing Peak.

Of course, Shen Yuan knows he wouldn't actually do anything to harm Cang Qiong, but Shen Jiu doesn't. This is the first time Shen Yuan has seen him actually reveal shades of what might be called a noble impulse.

It's not much, but... sigh.

The thing is, Shen Yuan doesn't really want to steal anybody's body! No one consulted with him the first time it happened! And they sure aren't consulting with him now, either, although to be fair they can't. But he might just have enough ability as a little ghost light to stave off some of this whole process, and he's got to decide if he wants to try. Or if he'll let Binghe have his way, and succeed in pushing Shen Jiu back out and giving Shen Yuan his life again.

Because Binghe will definitely succeed if he really does try. That's how the world works.

And if he did... that might be the only way for Shen Yuan to get his life as Shen Qingqiu back. Which he does want, desperately! He misses it. He misses it both in the general sense of having a body at all, but also in the particular sense of all the things he managed to attain as Qing Jing Peak Lord. As Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Jiu, also, makes a very tempting sacrifice in all this. Shen Yuan frankly hates his guts. Maybe it could have been different, but the fact that Shen Yuan worked so hard to try and make that life better, only for Shen Jiu to just go right back to being an intractable asshole who, frankly, should never be in charge of children ever, rankles! He went right back to mistreating Luo Binghe as well, and threw him into the Abyss, and if Binghe's plan was to violently kill him again as revenge for that then Shen Yuan wouldn't fault him. He didn't fault him the first time. He wasn't going to fault him even when it seemed like he would be the one Binghe was destined to rip apart in justified vengeance.

This is different, though. Shen Yuan wants to fight for the life he longs to be living, especially now when the axe of the Abyss is no longer hanging over him.

But is he willing to actually become the thing everyone else decided he was in order to get it? A body-snatching, malicious spirit?

Shen Jiu is horribly unsuited to his life as Shen Qingqiu. But, it is still his life. Shen Yuan really just managed to borrow it for a while.

Deep down he knows that, even if he would like to ignore it.

So when Binghe finally sets up the ceremony, and Shen Yuan's soul is called back into Shen Qingqiu's body, he hesitates. Shen Jiu is poised like a snarling, wounded animal within the confines of his own body. Even the gentlest tap would knock him back out again. Shen Yuan gets the sense that the system is also there, just waiting and even eager for him to do it. Take back the body, resume whatever quests or directives are waiting for him there.

Shen Yuan, even as fragile as his own spirit is, could crush Shen Jiu's battered soul to dust.

Instead he withdraws.

Binghe tries the ritual again, and again, and each time Shen Yuan feels stronger. But it doesn't matter, because he doesn't want to be an evil body-stealing parasite! He wishes he could just tell Binghe to stop wasting valuable resources on this, especially when Binghe could be focusing on other, more important things! Like building up happy relationships or consolidating his rule of the demon realms or establishing an actual strong foothold in the human world, or something!

Somehow, Shen Jiu figures this out before Luo Binghe does. Of course, he conveys the information in the worst way possible, snidely wondering what Luo Binghe did to alienate "that creature" he's trying so hard to resurrect so badly that it will refuse even the open, glowing invitation he keeps writing for it!

Excuse you, you miserable old man, Shen Yuan isn't avoiding Binghe! He is facing a very difficult moral dilemma and handling it LIKE A CHAMP! Fuck you!

Unfortunately, even though Shen Jiu has decided that Luo Binghe and Shen Yuan were in cahoots about the first body snatch, Luo Binghe knows that they weren't. He also doesn't know that his old Shizun knew full well that he was a Heavenly Demon the whole time. So now he has a lot of doubts to wrestle with, especially give that, despite the consensus of the rest of the world, Luo Binghe is not convinced that Shen Yuan actually is some kind of demonic spirit.

Maybe he's a good spirit that has rejected Binghe for his wretched blood?

But Shizun always said that things like that didn't matter!

So... maybe it's not his blood. Maybe Binghe's actions are what has caused Shizun to forsake him. All the terrible things he did to survive the Abyss, and the machinations afterwards, framing Shen Qingqiu and imprisoning him, setting himself up as a demonic ruler... all of that.

Binghe entreats his Shizun to forgive him. Or even if he won't forgive him, to still come back. Binghe will... stay away, if that's what Shizun wants. Just so long as Shizun is alive, is somewhere in the world, safe and happy, then... then...

He can't quite get through lying to claim that it would be enough. But it would be better than the current situation, so he tries.

Shen Yuan, luckily, has been juiced up enough from all the failed summoning rituals that later that night, he finally recognizes the little whisper-calls as echoes of Luo Binghe's dreams. And he's strong enough to follow the invitations! He goes to visit Binghe in his dreams, and reassures him that he's not trying to reject him at all. He's very proud of Binghe, and wants him to be happy and successful. Binghe could rule the world and Shizun would just cheer him on!

It's just that Shen Yuan never willingly possessed Shen Qingqiu in the first place. He misses his life, but given the choice, he doesn't want to be that kind of entity.

So, new plan -- if Shen Yuan won't take a body off of an undeserving asshole, then Binghe will make him a new body! Luckily, Shen Yuan knows a way to grow one. They "borrow" some genetic materials from Shen Jiu to aid the process, and then Luo Binghe, surprisingly indifferent about the whole thing, cuts Shen Jiu loose at the border.

Shen Yuan is surprised. Binghe really doesn't care about that? Turns out no, not so much. Shen Jiu is awful, but he's nothing to Binghe in the long run. (Also it's a long shot but if nothing else does work Binghe might have to force Shen Yuan to take Shen Qingqiu's body back, though of course he's not about to say so, and anyway Shen Jiu is still going to have a hell of a time waiting for him back in the cultivation world. Luo Binghe wishes him luck and every pleasure of trying to clear his ruined name, living a life on the lamb with an insidious poison constantly eating away at him, or the full enjoyment of a second visit to the water prison, whichever ends up happening.)

With the help of Luo Binghe's blood parasites, the Sun and Moon Dew whatever mushroom body grows in record time. A summoning ritual isn't even required, Shen Yuan just scoots right in as soon as the body is ready and blinks his eyes open to see his anxious disciple's face peering back at him.

Happily ever after!

[emilys-bangs]

The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !

Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.

You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.

You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘

Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3

----

midas touch | e.p

Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning

Word count: 2.5k

You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.

It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space. 

At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.

Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention. 

Everyone except you.

It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up. 

But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent. 

“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.

You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”

Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.

“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.

Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.

Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.

“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.�� Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.

She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.

“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”

You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”

But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.

Your throat goes dry. 

Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.

Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.

Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.

“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern. 

There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.

God, you need to go to bed.

“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”

That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”

You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.

“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”

“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”

That makes you crack a smile.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.

It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.

It’s fine. Sure it is.

You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.

She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.

She’s not wearing a bra.

You’re staring.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.

“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.

She’s literally going to be the death of you.

“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.

“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.

Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep. 

It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.

Emily.

Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.

Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.

You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.

You should let her go. 

It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her. 

It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.

But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.

You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.

Fuck.

You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter. 

Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.

———

She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.

Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.

Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.

Emily’s eyes flutter open. 

Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening. 

You’re caught.

Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.

Just before you apologize, she does.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”

“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.

“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.

“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”

Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not you, what?” She mumbles.

“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”

Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.

“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”

The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.

It only confirms your love for her.

Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive. 

She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.

It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.

“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.

Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.

“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”

You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”

Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”

Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.

“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”

She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.

You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek. 

“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”

Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.

“Never.” You whisper.

Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.

Because now, you have all the time in the world.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[slayfics]

Izuku overhears your late night call with Katsuki.

800 Words~

Izuku shuffled in bed becoming conscious of his surroundings as he blinked heavily. His hotel bed was nowhere near as satisfactory as his one at home. Not that Izuku was one to complain- but he found it amusing that Japan’s top two heroes were placed in a shared mediocre hotel while out on a mission.

Shuffling around once more Izuku became aware of what had woken him at such a late hour. It must have been two or three in the morning, but his friend’s low voice surrounded the silent room. Trying not to make Katsuki aware, he peeped an eye open and was met with the sight of his friend on the phone. Even though he was across the room on his own queen-sized bed, Izuku could see the tension in the way Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose and rubbed his hand over his face.

It didn’t take Izuku long to guess who Katsuki was talking to. It had to be you, there was no one else Izuku had seen Katsuki speak to with such softness. Not to mention how strict he was with his sleep schedule. No one else would be lucky enough to get away with calling Katsuki at this hour.

“You don’t need ta’ worry about me- you know that” Katsuki spoke quietly into the phone. “No- I’m not going to hang up… I’ll stay right here till you’re asleep, ok? So quite down… breath alright…”

Izuku fought the urge to interrupt and ask what was going on. It sounded like you must have been upset on the other line. Despite his helpful nature, he resisted the urge knowing Katsuki would only be infuriated by his interruption.

“It’s fine I’m-… I’m glad you called… I missed you too,” Katsuki spoke into the phone, causing Izuku to hold back an audible gasp. The words sounded so foreign coming from Katsuki. He always knew Katsuki had an affinity for you but- it felt so surreal to hear it with his own ears. It was such a sharp contrast to the Katsuki he was used to.

“I’m sorry I haven’t called or- reached out to you since we’ve been gone… I’m just- not good at this stuff you know…,” a low chuckle came from Katsuki at whatever you said next.

“It’s… nice to hear your voice again…I’ll come to see you when we’re back ok? … Yeah, yeah I promise brat. Now sleep for me alright? It’s late as hell and I can hear how exhausted you are… Good just drift off- and I’ll see you soon,” Katsuki said.

Izuku wasn’t sure if the conversation continued any longer because the next thing he knew his alarm was buzzing and waking him up for their mission.

He and Katsuki both sleepily stalked around the room getting ready. Against his better judgment, Izuku had to ask.

“Hey… last night… were they ok?” Izuku asked.

“HAH?! You listened to my phone call?!” Katsuki yelled; the annoyance clear on his face.

“Sorry-,” Izuku stuttered. “It’s not like I had a choice though. This room they gave us isn’t very big!”

“Yeah, cheap asses- whatever… they are fine don’t ask me about it again,” Katsuki spoke sternly.

“Ok Kacchan,” Izuku spoke respecting his friend's privacy as he continued to get ready, but to Izuku's surprise Katsuki called back out to him.

“Hey-…” Katsuki exclaimed, keeping his gaze away from Izuku.

“Yeah?” Izuku answered back.

“… What…,” Katsuki groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “What the hell do I say to them? I… I don’t know how to do this crap.” He spoke. Katsuki knew he wasn’t good at showing affection. He hadn’t even reached out to you in the week that they had been gone- which caused you to call him in panic. He hated that he did that to you but- these things just didn’t come easy to him like they did to Izuku.

“Well- I think that depends. What do you want them to know?” Izuku asked, treading carefully with his friend.

“I don’t fucking know… I just want the brat to take care of themselves…” Katsuki said frustrated.

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to say: Take care of yourself.” Izuku answered.

“Fine…” Katsuki huffed and typed a quick message on his phone before tossing it aside. “Let’s fucking get this mission over with- wanna go home.”

Izuku nodded in agreement.

The next morning you woke up to a text from Katsuki.

Take care of yourself, idiot.

tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @zanarkandskylines @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55

[autism-unfiltered]

The Affinity Between Autism and Stuffed Animals: An Unfurling Bond

The nuanced bond between individuals with autism and stuffed animals is a matter of significant intrigue and insight. The soft, predictable, and non-threatening nature of these plush companions presents a calming aura, contrasting the often overstimulating and unpredictable real world. This article delves into the underlying reasons explaining the predilection of individuals on the autism spectrum towards forming attachments with stuffed animals.

Sensory Processing: People with autism often experience sensory processing differences which may make them more sensitive or less responsive to sensory stimuli. Stuffed animals, with their soft and predictable textures, offer a soothing sensory experience. The tactile sensation can provide comfort, reduce anxiety, and help in managing overstimulation.

Predictability and Routine: Individuals with autism tend to favor routine and predictability. Stuffed animals, being inanimate, provide a consistent and predictable interaction. Unlike humans or other animals, stuffed toys do not change their behavior or appearance suddenly, which can be reassuring.

Emotional Regulation: Stuffed animals can serve as emotional regulators. They provide a source of comfort and security which can be particularly beneficial in unfamiliar or stressful situations. Their presence can also aid in self-soothing, which is crucial for emotional regulation.

Non-verbal Communication: For those with autism, interpreting social cues or engaging in social interactions can be challenging. Stuffed animals provide a non-threatening way to explore emotions and practice social skills in a safe, controlled environment.

Unconditional Acceptance: The unconditional acceptance offered by stuffed animals is comforting. Unlike interactions with people, there is no fear of judgment, rejection, or misunderstanding with a plush companion.

Symbolic Interaction: Stuffed animals can serve as a bridge to understanding and expressing emotions, as well as a medium to interact with others. They can act as proxies in social interactions, making the process less intimidating and more manageable.

Conclusion: The affinity towards stuffed animals among individuals with autism is rooted in both sensory processing and the emotional comfort derived from the predictable, non-judgmental companionship they offer. Understanding this bond can pave the way for developing more effective therapeutic interventions, thereby enhancing the quality of life for those on the autism spectrum.

[kirain]

I made a seven-day poll asking what everyone wanted me to write for a BG3 short story, but I don't think I have to wait to know "Gale summoning Tara" will win by a landslide. That said, I promise to also write a short for whichever theme comes in second, if people are still interested. In the meantime, I give you Gale summoning Tara!

Partly inspired by @ah-jiing's gorgeous art.

The boy clung to his mother's skirt, hiding behind her, his cheeks stained with tears. Elminster looked at him, then at the state of the house. An unconscious mephit lay withered in the corner, surrounded by scorch marks. The carpet; what was left of it, had taken the brunt of the damage, but the entire living room was trashed beyond repair—and it was perfect. The boy had potential if he could summon such a creature on his own, and with no formal training besides.

"Impressive," Elminster chuckled, scratching his beard. "Most university students struggle to summon mephits. It's not easy to pull them out of Eberron, especially if they don't want to leave."

"Impressive?!" the father yelled, causing the boy to flinch. "This is the fourth time his 'magic' has caused irreparable damage! No more!" He turned to his son, his eyes burning. "I never should've let your mother buy you those fanciful books. Later today, when I get home from work, I'm gathering every single one and tossing them in the ocean!"

The boy gasped, horrified. "No!"

"Don't you 'no' me." He raised his hand, threateningly. "I'm done paying for your mistakes. Every time you ruin something in this house, it costs me a bloody fortune! I ought to—!"

"That's enough, Alexis," the mother said, sternly. "I did far worse when I was in my teens. He's barely eight summers old. He just needs a mentor."

"No, Morena. He needs to stop. He needs a hobby. He needs friends!"

"That's what I was trying to do!" the boy cried. Elminster shifted as the parents fell silent. "I was trying ... I was trying to summon a tressym!"

"Not this again." The father sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in annoyance, as well as exhaustion. "I already told you, no pets! This house is already in shambles. We don't need an animal to add to it."

"Alexis, you're being unfair. You expect him to stay inside all day, learning about your trade, and then wonder why he doesn't have any friends."

"He doesn't have any friends because the other children around here are scared of him. Have you forgotten what he did to that girl?!"

The boy whimpered, the memory invading his thoughts. Once again, the parents fell silent, the mother giving her husband a disapproving glare. After a moment, she knelt down with a warm smile and ran her thumb across her son's cheek.

"Gale, sweetheart, go to your room for a bit. Can you do that for me?"

The boy hesitated, holding his mother's hand against his face, grateful for the comfort. His eyes twitched, then welled with tears. Elminster watched patiently, taking note of their bond. He could sense the mother's affinity for magic, but the father displayed no such talent. Rather, an obvious aversion to it. The realisation made him scoff. It was always a mystery to him, why one with knowledge of the arcane would settle for the most mundane of partners, but he held his tongue. He was there for one reason, and that reason was breaking down in front of him.

"Gale," the mother repeated. "It's alright, sweetheart." She pulled him into a merciful hug. "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it."

"I'm sorry..." he muttered, melting in her embrace. "I'm sorry, mommy. Please don't take my books away."

"Shh, we're not going to take your books away.

The father lurched forward. "Morena, I just said—!"

"We're not going to take your books away," she snapped. "Now please, go to your room. I'll bring you some lunch come noon."

The boy pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He sniffed quietly, his jaw tense as he tried to compose himself. As he stepped around his mother, he leaned away from his father, but looked up at Elminster with a brief gaze of shame and curiosity. He had no idea who the old man was or why he was there, but he was too upset to ask. Instead, he dashed to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Morena, I know you mean well, but you coddle that boy."

"I don't want to hear it, Alexis. He's your son, but you've made absolutely no attempt to share his interests."

"Maybe that's because I don't want to get my eyebrows singed off. I'm not like you. I can't just shield myself from his outbursts."

"They're not 'outbursts'. You act as though he's some kind of delinquent. I've never seen him use magic in a moment of anger, not even when the neighbourhood children push him around. Most of the time his spells are harmless, and you're wrong to focus so heavily on his mistakes."

"You're wrong to brush them aside. Mistakes like these get people killed! The housekeeper damn near pissed herself when she walked in on that ... that thing! I don't think she's coming back!"

"She overreacted. If she hadn't started screaming, the mephit wouldn't have panicked."

"The mephit?! Morena, she had every right to 'overreact'. Most people don't come face to face with fiends everyday!"

"It's not a fiend, Alexis, it's an elemental. Loyal to the one who summoned it." With a grunt, she snapped her fingers, and the motionless creature disappeared in a puff of smoke. "There. I've sent it home. No harm done."

"No harm—?" He stared at the now empty space, then groaned, defeated. "Morena, this is getting out of hand. I can't keep doing this. I-I can't support this. I have to put my foot down. No more books, no more magic."

"It's not a choice, Alexis. I've never seen a child with such keen aptitude for magic. It's like it's in his blood. Either we teach him how to harness it or it'll boil over."

"Don't. Don't even try it. I'm no fool, Morena. He's not a sorcerer. This isn't wild magic. It's not spilling out of him like a sieve. He can stop any time we choose to make him."

Elminster cleared his throat, loudly.

"Oh, yes. Forgive us," Morena sighed. "I had hoped to welcome you under ... merrier circumstances."

"Fear not." He waved his hand, jauntily. "This isn't the first mess I've walked in on when it comes to gifted children, and I doubt it will be the last."

"Gifted?" The father squeaked. "Gifted?!"

"Indeed. You'd admonish your son when you should be praising him. As I said earlier, most university students fail to summon a mephit." He turned his attention to the mother. "Did I hear you rightly? He's only eight?"

"Yes, and only just. By a few weeks."

"Incredible."

"I know," she giggled. "I could hardly believe it when the housekeeper came running to me about a 'winged beast' setting fire to the parlor."

"Have you both lost your senses?!" the father interjected. "Morena, who is this man?"

She caught her breath, pushing her pride for her son aside. "This is Elminster Aumar. Remember? I told you he'd be visiting us today. He wrote to me a tenday ago, asking about Gale. It seems word of our little wizard has reached beyond Waterdeep."

"Do not call him that!" The man hissed. "He's not a wizard, he's a boy. A normal boy. I told you, this ends today. No more books, no more spells, no more fiends or bats or whatever you want to call them. No more magic! He'll be an artisan like me and he'll like it. You just have to stop filling his head with nonsense." He pointed to Elminster. "And you—" He went to speak, his tone harsh, but he paused and collected himself, if only to save face. "I'm sorry you travelled all this way from ... wherever you're from, but I'm afraid your services are no longer needed."

"How dare you," Morena whispered, her voice low but laced with fury. "When you married me, you knew this was a possibility. We talked about it. You were fine with it."

"That was before he started tormenting little girls with necromancy!" He let out a long, winded breath. "Morena, this isn't right. You said it yourself, magic like this is beyond a child's comprehension. He shouldn't even be able to—!"

"If I may inquire?" Elminster asked, careful not to incense the father further. "I'm here because I know, better than most, how difficult it can be to raise a Weave-touched child. I can see the strain it's putting on you, and as a neutral party, I can attest you both make valid points. So please, tell me about the necromancy, and let's try to keep a level head. This is about your son, after all. About his future. If you'll accept it, I'm willing to share my expertise."

The parents exchanged glances, then looked away from each other, embarrassed. The father, without a word, walked away and leaned against the wall, his eyes falling to the cinders on the floor. Elminster could tell he was at his wits' end, but he felt very little sympathy. His desire to stifle such beautiful talent, to hold magic in such low regard—it was an affront to Mystra herself.

"He wasn't trying to 'torment' anyone," the mother chimed. "He was just trying to help."

"Tell me what happened."

"There's a girl who lives a few doors down from us. Loria. She had a songbird she kept in her room, but somehow it got out of its cage and flew into a window outside. As I'm sure you can imagine, the impact broke its neck. When Gale found her, she was weeping in the street, holding the poor thing in her hands. He only ... he only wanted to help. To make her feel better."

"Enough," Elminster said, sensing the woman's mouthing distress. "I understand."

"No you don't!" the father barked. "When he brought that thing back, its limbs twisted in every direction, squawking like it was in pain. He wounded that poor girl more than the bird's death ever could have."

"You're overlooking the fact that it was all well intentioned," Morena argued. "And magic like that is practically impossible for a child his age. It's a miracle he managed to reanimated it at all."

"That doesn't excuse it!"

"I didn't say it did! If we just teach him when and where it's acceptable to use magic, as well as how to perfect his skills—"

"Morena!"

"Magic is part of him!" she screeched, clenching her fists. "You need to accept that!"

"I'm afraid she's right," Elminster added. "Gale may not be a sorcerer, but the Weave has called to him. It has plans for him. Mystra has plans for him."

The father paled, his anger waning in an instant. "The goddess?"

"Yes. Taking his books, depriving him of proper study, it won't placate him. Magic flows through him like molten lava, and lava cannot be tamed. I know the toll this has taken on you, but your son is no mere boy. Not anymore."

"Is that so? Then what exactly is he?"

Elminster smiled. "A prodigy."

-----

Gale paced about his room, gripping his hair as his chest heaved. He couldn't figure out where he went wrong. He didn't mispronounce any of the words, and the mephit, though not what he intended to summon, was peaceful until the housekeeper tried to smack it with a broom.

In a fit of emotions, he dropped to the floor and buried his head in his knees, squeezing them tightly. He didn't want to be alone anymore, and he hated his father's cruelty, but maybe he was right. Images of Loria screaming over her bird flashed in his mind, the guilt overwhelming him. First her, then the housekeeper. He never wanted to hurt anyone, he only wanted a friend.

"Why didn't it work?" he sobbed, his nails digging into his trousers. "Is it me? Tressyms only come to the pure of heart, so maybe I'm just not..."

He wept, for a long time. When he lifted his head, his eyes were swollen and heavy, his mouth sore. With a sniffle, he wiped his nose, then looked to his dresser; to the small ornate jar sat on the far corner. Though he felt too numb to stand, he forced himself to his feet and retrieved it, and then he shook it back and forth, rattling the coins inside.

"That was mother's favourite carpet..." He popped the lid and poured the coins onto the dresser. "Not much, but better than nothing, I guess."

With a pained frown, he began separating each coin by value, counting what was there. It was the least he could do, he thought, to make up for his blunder. He truly loved magic, but he never wanted to hurt anyone with it; least of all the people who cared for him the most.

"One hundred and twenty," he said, mournfully. "That carpet ... cost seventeen times that." He gulped, staving off another rush of tears. "So much for our vacation to Neverwinter. Looks like I ruined that, too."

With one swift motion, he swept the coins back into the jar, then moved to take it to his mother, hoping it would make an apt apology. Before reaching the door; however, he gasped, his body freezing. His eyes widened, his back arching as he dropped the jar to the floor.

"Never ... winter?"

A sudden burst of clarity. Of inspiration. He ran to his bookshelf and grabbed a large, leather bestiary from the lineup. As big as his torso, he struggled to lift it, but dragged it to his bed with a determined limp, then dropped it on the mattress.

"That old man said mephits come from Eberron. So maybe ... maybe my spell was too expansive. I need to narrow it down."

For several minutes, he flipped through the pages, tracing the sentences with his finger. Finally, he came across the passage that answered his prayers, and he grinned.

Most tressyms hail from the warm, temperate lands of Faerûn, and are most commonly seen in northern Cormyr, particularly in the village of Eveningstar.

"This is it!"

With renewed vigor, he wrenched up the rug in the middle of his room, revealing a large casting circle painted on the floor; a seven-pointed star surrounded by glyphs. His excitement brimming, he grabbed a quill and wrote 'Neverwinter' in the northern triangle, then tossed it aside and positioned himself in the center. All the mayhem of that morning and the consequences it incurred seemed to fade as he took a deep, calming breath.

"I can do this. I can do this."

Slowly, he clapped his hands together, his mind fixated on what he wanted most. As the magic swirled inside him, ready to serve, his hair stood on end, but not out of fear. Exhilaration. He couldn't help but smile as he closed his eyes and chanted the words, "Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao."

Immediately, the scent of rosewater filled the air, tickling his nose and tongue. It was sweet and welcoming, a sensation he'd grown to crave on an almost daily basis. It made him feel safe. Seen. As streams of azure and violet whirled around him, he lifted his hands above his head and faced the ceiling.

"Ang'alor ko malo fynndo Virr e'etu fem'molij!"

A gust of wind erupted through the room, so powerful it sent several objects flying through the air, but Gale held strong, his arms shaking as a mass of bright colours exploded from his fingertips. His arms shook, the deluge of dancing lights twisting from a shapeless husk into something more familiar. Then, he heard a soft mew in the distance, causing him to gasp. He'd opened a rift, and before long a small feather blew though and brushed against his cheek.

"My word!" a feminine voice echoed. "This is most irregular. Who is—?"

An abrupt and blinding flash, then a weight that nearly brought Gale to his knees. He winced, blinking rapidly to regain his senses—and when he did, his eyes fell upon the face of a cat, which he unknowingly cradled in his arms, her paws pushing against his chest. In that moment, words failed him, his mouth hanging open in a daze.

"I say, who are you?" the creature asked, her ears twitching.

She wasn't angry or frightened, merely confused, but a quick glance around her esoteric surroundings answered in kind. The room was teeming with books, knickknacks, and artefacts that only one type of person would keep, and she knew that type of person well. Stretching her wings, she shuffled in the boy's arms, making herself more comfortable.

"I see. A young wizard, are you?" She peered up at him, her bright eyes studying his face. "Hmm. Very young, it seems. Well then, that explains why you summoned me. You need a firm hand, yes? I'll warn you now, child, I expect you to take your studies seriously. I'll not abide laziness." She pulled back a bit, licking her paw. "And I trust I'll receive a steady intake of fish and pigeons? They're my favourite, I'll have you know. Well, after beholder, but I don't expect you to fetch something so dangerous on my behalf. In fact, I forbid it."

"I..." Gale's brow furrowed, his eyes gleaming.

"My name is Tara, by the bye. Perhaps I should've opened with that. Though you've neglected to tell me your name." She tilted her head, gesturing for a response, but the boy said nothing. "I see I have my work cut out for me. Manners, young man. Manners. So, what should I call you? Mister—?"

"I—I..."

"Yes? Speak clearly, dear. My hearing may be sharp, but mumbles are indecipherable, even for a tressym."

He couldn't contain his smile as he pulled the beast into a tight but careful hug, which was met with the faintest sound of purring.

"I did it!"

[chthonia27]

Divine paradox

Dick Grayson x F!reader.

Content: Two unlikely souls entwined in a sacred affinity, the dance of Life and Death, a romance etched in the skies.

Tw: nudity, suggestive tone implied.

WC: 2k

Yin and Yang, push and pull. Life and death. That was a dance performed since the beginning of time. The balance needed so that the cosmos don’t devolve into chaos, so that all may know the value of life, and the importance of death. Sat on his throne, dressed in the finest of fabrics and engraving of pure gold, a halo of light surrounding his raven hair, was the God of life, Dick. The benevolent ruler of the universe, creator of all life and love, protector of souls. Everything the god touched, life would prosper. His sacred space, the realm to which he resides in, what could only be described as paradise, paled in comparison to his longing for Death.

He ran a thumb over the carved intricacies of his throne, his pink lips curled into a pout as his soul sang in longing for his counterpart, needing her presence always beside him. The god of life was rather.. clingy, to say the least. Such a primordial would be expected to act impartial, however he was absolutely taken by his love. Huffing and puffing, he bridged the distance to her realm without much difficulty. A cold, lifeless interval, wherein his love resided. Death. Such a misunderstood primordial being. She wasn’t evil by any means, contrary to popular belief. Merely continuing the cycle, no matter how intimidating, or outright spine chilling her presence was, she cared for the souls she looked after and justly punished those who have led less than desirable lives, allowing them to atone and relive the pain they’ve caused before their souls may evolve. She was anything but cruel, forgiving in fact. Comforting the souls of the lost, the sick, the injured and the young, a solace for their frayed souls.

Death. So just, so equal to all, so final. It was beautiful, really. How the creations he’d created with his own essence and loved so dearly would always be in her sweet embrace when the time called for it. Almost as if a piece of him would always be with her, cared for in the darkness of the underworld and in her cold yet loving embrace. At least that’s how he viewed it. The God of Life promptly arrived to the gates of none other than the terror of most entities. Calling out to his love, rather obnoxiously, he entered her realm. Death was.. difficult, to say the least. Authorative, hard headed, cold and incredibly standoffish, she was. But hauntingly beautiful, her entire being called out to the god of life’s like no other, akin to the sea nymphs that lured unsuspecting sailors into the trenches of the dark ocean depths. The moon to his sun, the counterpart to his being, his soulmate. The flower to which the beast of his jealousy guards ever so fiercely. None other designed so perfectly for him, and he for her, an indestructible bond so pure shared between the two divinities, a bond so etched into their souls unlike anything ever seen. She was always so curt and dry, never sparing another glance or thought to other beings of the galaxy, never paying any mind to the fruitless dramas that roamed the community of the gods, focusing solely on her duties. He however coaxed another complex faction of hers since the dawn of time, albeit subtle. Wether it was how he’d always pique her interest, her eyes trailing him wherever he’d advance, or the softening of her gaze and even the way she’d pepper gentle kisses to the slope of his nose and the contour of his jaw in the comfort of their realms, he knew deep within his being that he was loved.

”My Death! Where are you, my love?”, he yelled as he passed her soulless garden. Decaying roses, bare and withering trees along the edges of the stream of souls, dried soil and thorned vines covering the masses of the land, but he could only see beauty in it all. Beauty in her. He made his way to her throne room, the very same one to which all beings would enter and be passed judgment upon. His silk, white robes dragging at the stone as he walked to her, his eyes sparkling with sincere, unmistakable endearment as he eyed her form perched on her throne.

“My Death, there you are. I’ve missed you. Still brooding?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips as he kissed her knuckles. “No smile for me? Not even happy to see me? You wound me, dear. I shall die by the cold hands of death herself. Poetic, no?” He complained with no real malice, only meaning to rile her up. It’s fair to say he isn’t the only one who draws out a different narrative from the other, as she always brought out his mischief, his inner most chaos, and yet still displayed in ways that were reverential to her.

“Must you always be so boisterous in your arrival?”

A deep, velvety laugh escaped him as his eyes fixed on her alluring face, the softness of her plush lips pleading to be kissed. “I am simply expressing my enthusiasm for finally being in your presence after eons of not being in your graces, beloved.” She gave him a deadpan expression as she replied, “it has only been an hour since you last left.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“For you.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t suppress the fond smile that graced her ethereal features, in turn igniting a deep sense of satisfaction in the aforementioned god. She lifted herself from her throne and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling his chest as she inhaled the naturally intoxicating aroma of the earthy and slightly Smokey notes of her beloved.

“Ah, so you do have a heart.”

“Must you always ruin the moment?”

He gasped dramatically, almost shifting his weight completely on her as he feigned faintness. “Beloved! Must you always be so cruel to your husband?!” He bellowed out, his loudness echoing in the throne room in such a way that almost caused him to wince, the weight of his body crushing his beloved and nearly making her loose her footing.

“Ugh! Dick!”

“You remember my name!”

They both knew well she’d intentionally said it with a dual meaning behind her words, but they’d chosen to ignore it for now. He wrapped his hands on the back of her thighs, hoisting her up so that she may wrap her legs over his waist. He pressed a reverent kiss to her collar bone and to the sternum of her chest, nipping lightly at her cleavage before meeting her gaze once more. He simply admired her beauty, one so unmatched and unique, one that plagued his mind and has during his entire existence. A beauty so special he could worship until the ends of time. The look in his eyes could only be described as love-struck, pupils blown wide and his lips parted as he imagined the feel of once more capturing hers in a kiss. She was perfect, the epitome of beauty to him, no other could ever hold candles to his beloved. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crevice of her neck before setting her down once more.

“Come with me.”

“Oh?”

That piqued his interest, curious eyes searching her face for any inkling as to what she had planned. She took his hand in hers and turned around, leading him from the throne room to her private chambers, and he couldn’t help but notice how hypnotically her hips swayed as she walked. The soulfully tied divinities navigated through the large expanse of the underworld before arriving at her bedchambers, entering the adjoining bathroom. His eyes scanned the area, a large crystal bathtub, that could truthfully be classed as pool due to its sheer size, coated in rose petals, candles situated on every surface of the room. He inhaled deeply, the sweet scent of vanilla tickling his senses.

“What’s this, beloved?”

“I’ve missed you.”

His heart flipped and his chest tightened with affection at her declaration. The love he felt coursing through his veins only sizzled beneath his tanned skin. He gently backed her up on the sink, forehead resting against hers as he kissed the corners of her mouth.

“Let me help you.”

Slowly, he placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs gently rubbing the nape of her neck. “Hm, my love, so beautiful..” His fingers found the straps of her dress, slowly slipping them off her shoulders and lowering them down her arms to expose her skin. Ever so gently, he ran his hands over the now exposed skin, admiring her like it was the first time he saw her nude body.

He slowly untied the back of her dress, lowering it further, the soft, silky material falling to her hips. “My beautiful mistress of death..” He gently pulled her body against his, his hands trailing over her bare chest and stomach. He continued to shower her in kisses, his lips moving down her neck and shoulder, his hand exploring her body. His mouth soon found her ear, his breath warm against her skin as he whispered quietly.

“I’m the most fortunate god in the whole universe.”

Kneeling down, he slid the dress completely off of her, gently lifting her legs and pressing kisses from her calves up to her thighs, worshipping her form with the purest of devotions. Once done, the god stood in between her legs, arms wrapped around her waist as he lowered himself to press a chaste kiss to her lips, tongue darting out to lick along her bottom lip, seeking entry into the warm cavern of her mouth. When permitted, the muscle danced with her own, exploring the familiarity of her as he tugged her impossibly closer, the feeling of her soft hands coming to unrobe him sending shivers down his spine. After the soft material of his clothing had pooled at his feet, he hoisted her up once more and slowly sat in the bathtub, his beloved straddling his lap as he continued the kiss, calloused hands palming at the softness of her skin, then moving to cup her face and run his digits through the silky strands on her head. The aroma of vanilla wafted through the room, the gentle flicker of the flames licking divinely on her features, illuminating her beauty even more. He pulled back only to catch his breath, the sensation of her bare body on his enough to make him want to abandon everything and spend eternity in the safety of her arms. He wordlessly pulled her flush against him, her soft curves contrasting with the hard planes of his hard chest and abdomen, lips coming to pepper kisses on her temples as he began to wash her. Skilled fingers massaging at her scalp, rinsing and repeating his steps before applying the conditioner to her strands. He loved to cater to her, his presence in the cosmos was designed for this. To love her, worship her as she should be. He then began to soothe the knots out of her tense shoulders, lips suckling at her neck, leaving evidence of his love in the physical form, gently washing her stresses away.

After completing their routine, lovingly caring for the other in such cherished ways, they simply continued to hold one another, whispering sweet nothings as the worries of their days melted away into the abyss of the forgotten. The warm water washed over the pair as they embraced, their bodies moulding into one, testament of their affections. Their skin slick and smooth from the water, arms around each other, relishing in the security provided within each other, the consolation of their presence a soothing balm to their souls, a comfort only they could find in each other away from the rest of the cosmos.

In the quietness of their moment, in the safety of their embrace and the intimacy thick with their love, there truly is no other place the god of life would rather be.

“I love you.”

[bobafett]

Twilight on Owl Creek Bridge by @yellowocaballero

SUBJECT: Regarding Senate Guard Objectives For Today This is a polite reminder to all guardsmen that patrol schedules for the Senate vote ratifying dictatorships are posted in the breakroom. I am also issuing a warning to linear time that days should follow sequentially and are not intended to repeat. Please cease repeating. I am getting a headache. Additionally, I'd like to remind all guardsmen that it is illegal to harbor invisible women in the Senate. If you see a ghost claiming to be Leia Organa, please remove her from the premises. She will be making a scene. Thank you for your cooperation in preserving the peace of the Republic, and all hail the Empire. Fox

It is finished. First (and second) binds are officially done, and as the author's copy is officially in the author's hands, I can finally post pictures.

About The Bind

This fic was typeset in Affinity Publisher in Crimson Text with titles in Neothic and League Gothic. It was printed on cream 20/50 lb short grain paper.

The cover was designed in Affinity Designer using the vector of the Imperial Cog off of Wookieepedia and some royalty free clip art. It came together in probably 45 minutes, and I am ridiculously proud of how it turned out.

Spine titling was done with metallic silver paint and a custom vinyl stencil. Headbands are decorative paper coiled around some yarn stiffened with PVA. Flyleafs are from a pack of scrapbook paper that was on sale at Michael's for $5 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Personal copy is rounded, author's copy is flat-back. Despite the author's copy being easier to make and superior in literally every way as both a functional and aesthetic object, I tragically do prefer the way the rounded copy looks. Guess I'll have to get better at rounding spines.

Digital covers and excerpts from the typeset below the cut.

[from-books-with-love]

But it was from the difference between us, not from the affinities and likenesses, but from the difference, that that love came: and it was itself the bridge, the only bridge, across what divided us.

Ursula K. Le Guin, The Left Hand of Darkness.

[flyinghassassin]

I used to love you

Summary: Wanda and you were a couple,but after Westview everything changed.Now Strange needs your help so your former lover doesn't end up destroying the multiverse

Word count: 2500ish

Warnings: Canon violence,angst,fluff,slight spicy stuff.

Masterlist

"I need your help." Strange's voice cut through the silence.

"Stephen? What are you doing here? What happened?" you asked worriedly.

"It's about Wanda."

"Wanda? We haven't been a couple for over a week now. Why do you want to talk about her right now? After everything that's happened?"

"You remember the Westview anomaly, don't you?"

"How could I not remember Stephen? It was the reason Wanda and I broke up, so I'm going to ask you one more time," you said, waving your hands and activating a spell. "What are you doing here?"

"Wanda has found a book, the Darkhold." "It is an extremely powerful book,filled with dark spells, that will give its user everything they desire."

"Let me guess: Wanda has its power and is using it to try to get her children back,right?"

"That's right, Y/N; how do you know?" asked Strange.

"I know her, Stephen." "I was with her for almost 2 years; I know how she thinks," you said with a sad tone, clenching your fist and disabling the spell you had ready.

Stephen walked over and rested his hand on your shoulder.

"I need you to help me stop her from doing more harm to other people." "She has destroyed Kamar-Taj in her stampede."

"I guess she's looking for something there."

"That's right.She's looking for America Chavez, a girl capable of traveling across universes, and Wanda craves those powers to get her children back."

"I'll help you," you said,your voice marked with determination. "I can't let Wanda hurt anyone else."

"Thank you, Y/N." Prepare whatever you think is necessary to meet with her and Wong and devise a plan.

You nodded and went into the cabin you lived in to prepare your things.

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

"You must be America Chavez." "Wong has told me about you," you said, offering your hand to her.

"I assume you are Y/N. Wong has told me about you, former sorceress of Kamar-Taj and former lover of Wanda Maximoff."

"That's right."

"Hello, Y/N, welcome back to Kamar-Taj," said Wong tensely.

"Wong," you replied in the same manner, "long time no see, huh?" "Now you are the sorcerer supreme; congratulations," you said.

"Mhm, thanks, Y/N. I hope things are not tense between us after what happened in Kamar-Taj. I just wanted to..."

You cut him off by raising a hand.

"I'm not spiteful,Wong,that's water under the bridge. Now we have more important things to attend to:Wanda and the Darkhold. Do you know where she's hiding?"

"We think she's in Wundagore." "We'll need your help to get there safely, plus your magic and affinity with Wanda will be able to help us."

"Wanda and I are no longer anything, Wong," you snapped. "We stopped being when she became obsessed with power. I'll help you because it's the right thing to do,but I don't want you to mention Wanda in front of me." You said walking out of there.

You walked a little bit around Kamar-Taj, the place that had been your home not so long ago, and sat down on one of the ledges there, letting your feet dangle in the air.

"At what point did everything get so screwed up?" You thought sadly, "It wasn't that long ago I was dating Wanda, and now I'm keeping her from destroying the universe. Before,everything was simpler," you said,allowing your mind to wander through the memories.

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

"Y/N,this is Wanda Maximoff, a new member of the team. We rescued her after the battle with Ultron,which cost her brother his life. Now she's a little lost; please try to help her," said Steve.

"Sure, Cap," you said, looking at her, "Welcome to the Avengers."

Wanda simply nodded, her eyes full of sadness and grief.

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

"Did you really do that?" Wanda laughed.

"At the time, it seemed like a good idea," you defended yourself. "I knew my powers were still a little clumsy, but it was the first thing that came to mind."

"I'm sure the Chitauri were terrified to see an army of 3-foot-long rabbits approaching them."

You groaned and turned your attention back to the pot, which was steaming.

"If you keep this up, I'll leave you without trying my amazing pasta recipe."

"Oh no, terrible punishment! Please don't!" said Wanda teasingly.

"You're a meanie," you said, hitting her head with the wooden spoon.

"Ouch!" complained Wanda, rubbing her head.

"That's what happens when you mess with my amazing pasta." "Try it," you said, holding the spoon up to her mouth.

Wanda did, and she let out a hum.

"Tastes good."

"Well, that's too bad, because I'm not giving you anything for messing with my amazing recipe."

"Now you're the one being a meanie."

"I'll give you pasta if you give me a kiss."

Wanda walked over to you and grabbed your jaw, causing you to look down and blush slightly.

"No problem," she said, giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Now give me some pasta, please," she asked with puppy-dog eyes.

"How can I say no when you ask me like this?" you said, smiling.

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

It was 3:00 a.m. when you heard an insistent knock on your door.

You groaned, got out of bed, and went to open the door.

In front of you stood Wanda, her eyes puffy and watery, her lip trembling slightly, and signs of distress on her face.

"Wanda?  "What happened to you?"

"I-I-I-I had a nightmare," she said, breaking into tears again.

"I'm so sorry," you said sadly. "Come here." You opened your arms for Wanda to hug you,which she did without hesitation,crying against your chest. "I'm so sorry, Wands," you said, stroking her hair. "Do you want to sleep here today?" you offered.

Wanda nodded and sniffled her nose,coming over and crawling into your bed. You followed her immediately.

Wanda lay down on your chest, and you slipped your arms around her waist, grabbing her hand and tracing circles on it to reassure her.

"You want to tell me what it was about?"

"It was about my brother." "I watched him die over and over again, and I couldn't do anything about it," she said, turning to face you.

"I'm so sorry, Wands," you said, hugging her tightly. "Don't worry, I promise that as long as I'm here, nothing bad will happen to you," you said, joining your forehead with hers.

"You promise?" said Wanda in a broken voice.

"I promise," you replied, intertwining your pinky with hers. "Pinky promise."

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

You were in your room, enjoying the comfortable silence.

You were stretched out on the bed with Wanda's head resting on your lap, and your hands were occasionally scratching her scalp, making her sigh contentedly.

While Wanda seemed extremely relaxed, your mind was racing with a thousand thoughts all at once, all of which were focused on one person: Wanda.

Your little crush on her was growing more and more each day, and you had been planning for several days how to tell her how you felt, waiting for the right opportunity, and it seemed that day had arrived.

"Wanda?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, I have a confession to make," you said, sitting up in bed.

Wanda turned to look at you, resting her head in the palm of her hands.

"I like you a lot; would you like...?"

"Yes," Wanda's voice cut you off before you finished speaking, "I would like to be your girlfriend."

"How did you know? I hadn't finished talking yet."

Wanda put her hand to her forehead and tapped it a couple of times.

A blush began to cover your face.

"You already knew? This makes my confession a little more embarrassing; surely you've known for a long time," you said, blushing even more.

"You are incredibly cute, Y/N," said Wanda, straddling your lap. "I've known that for a few days now,your thoughts can get pretty loud,detka."

"Well,at least you know," you said, cupping Wanda's head and kissing her deeply. "I love you, Wanda."

"I love you too, detka" said Wanda, kissing you with the same intensity.

You leaned back on the bed and continued kissing Wanda,who responded to you with the same, if not more, intensity.

Your hands moved up and down her hips, caressing the soft skin.

Wanda took off her shirt and tossed it carelessly into the corner of the room, continuing to kiss you.

"Do you like what you see?" said Wanda teasingly.

"You're fucking beautiful," you replied, pulling her body closer to yours and depositing kisses on her neck,making her moan slightly.

"I love you, Y/N,with all my heart."

"I love you too, Wanda."

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

"You were thinking about her, weren't you?" The voice of America cut off your thoughts.

"Yes," you replied, "There are times when I can't help thinking about her. We spent almost two years together; that's something you don't forget."

"I understand" said America, sitting down next to you. "I'm sorry it's come to this and that you have to fight her because she wants my powers."

"Hey,take it easy,it's not your fault," you said, grabbing her hand and rubbing your thumb gently against her palm. "Wanda has gone too far,and even if it hurts, I have to stop her".

"We're ready." You were interrupted by Strange's voice. "We have prepared some basic protection spells in case Wanda or another creature attacks again. Wong is waiting for us at the entrance."

You nodded and stood up, offering your hand to America.

"Let's go."

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

This was not the Wanda you remembered; if you had been told it was someone else, you would have believed it, except for the little details on her face that indicated it was Wanda, your Wanda.

"Please, Wanda, you have to stop this," you said, tears welling up in your eyes.

"No one is going to stop me, Y/N, not even you. I've been reasonable long enough; it's time for me to stop being reasonable," Wanda replied, launching a blast of her powers that hit a column, causing fragments to fall on top of Wong and Strange.

Quickly, casting a spell, you made the stones turn to foam rubber, causing them to fall harmlessly on top of them.

"Good one," said Strange.

You nodded and continued to cast spells, trying to destabilize Wanda to slow her down, but they were dismissed without complications for her.

Wanda approached America with a crazed look in her eyes, but before she reached her, you casted a spell on her, causing Wanda to fall to the ground from the surprise of the blow.

"Get behind me and prepare a portal," you said to America, resting your hand on her chest and making her walk a few steps backwards.

Wanda quickly got up and sent some creatures at you, but you reduced them, while Strange and Wong cast spells at Wanda, but the attempts were useless.

"It's not working," said Wong, sweat covering his forehead.

"I have a plan," you said. "I'll hold her off, and you guys will leave. Wanda and I were a couple after all; she may not attack me with the intention of killing me."

"Are you sure?" asked Strange.

"Yes, go now that you can."

"If you need a home, Kamar-Taj will be there for you," said Wong with a certain sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry for what happened between us."

You nodded as you looked at America,who was trying to create a portal until she finally succeeded.

Just then, Wanda cast a spell in your direction, which you managed to barely stop.

"Quick, go," you said, holding back Wanda's spells and casting yours in her direction.

"Thank you, Y/N," said Wong, looking at you. "Kamar-Taj is grateful to you."

You nodded, and just then Wanda's spell hit you, making you fall to the ground unconscious.

"Y/N!" said America, advancing towards you but being held back by Strange's arm, causing her to enter the portal next to him and Wong and disappearing,leaving you alone with Wanda.

"Poor, little, little Y/N. Your friends have abandoned you to your fate," she said, her voice laced with venom. "Now what are you going to do,huh?" She continued,walking towards you and tapping your body with her foot.

Blood dripped from your head, falling rhythmically to the ground.

"Y/N?" asked Wanda again,striking your body with her foot with more force. "This isn't funny anymore."

"Sorry, my love,I got too much into the role," you said, smiling. "Good acting by me,but I think you shouldn't have hit me so hard," you said, touching your forehead and wincing slightly.

"Let me see," said Wanda,kneeling down to be at your height and grabbing your jaw to see your forehead. "It's bleeding a little. Sit on the altar so I can disinfect your wound," said Wanda,standing up and holding out her hand for you to take so you could stand up.

Wanda took a first aid kit that was in the corner of the temple and straddled your lap to get a better look at the wound.

With a cotton swab, she applied a disinfectant liquid, causing you to wince.

"Don't complain, detka,it doesn't hurt that much," said Wanda. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"

"That would be nice," you replied, smiling broadly.

Wanda deposited a couple of kisses on your forehead, being careful not to hurt you, and rested her forehead on yours.

"I love you so much, detka"

"I love you too, Wands; I always have," you replied, giving her a kiss and caressing her hips. "The new suit looks great on you, by the way".

"Oh, thank you, honey," said Wanda, smiling.

"You look so hot," you said, kissing her again, this time more deeply. "You always look great," you added,depositing kisses on her neck,making Wanda moan.

"Not now, honey; you must rest and let your wound heal," said Wanda between moans.

"I don't feel like it," you replied, stroking all her skin up and down and caressing the curve of her ass.

"Y/N,lie down and rest," said Wanda, frowning. "If you don't, you'll go two weeks without cuddling."

"Hey,that's not fair," you replied, pouting. "Fine, you win, but sleep with me; I haven't slept cuddling with you in a while."

Wanda smiled and nodded,grabbing your hand to guide you to her room so you could sleep in a comfortable bed.

"The spell worked, by the way," Wanda said, smiling. "Now we know America's position at all times. It was a good plan to pretend we were nothing anymore and get you closer to Strange and Wong so we could get to America."

"Thank you," you smiled. "We'll get there soon, Wanda," you said, grabbing her hand and kissing it. "Soon everything will be alright."

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Eren Yeager x f!reader x Zeke Yeager [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is what Zeke's house looks like. Enjoy the fantasyyyyyyy. (This is from 2021!) [ SYNOPSIS ] You and your best friend, Eren, decide to spend a week on the coast with his half-brother, Zeke. Shit gets weird. This is pure pwp. [ WORD COUNT ] 6k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, dubcon, jerking off, rough sex, oral sex, facefucking, throatfucking, nipple play, groping, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, finger sucking, degradation (slut), spit play, hair pulling, praise kink, creampie, pussy slapping, impact play (spanking), petnames (baby, dude lol), threesome (duh), spitroasting, a facial.

You ached for Eren. You desperately wanted him to touch you, to feel you. To take you in his arms and fuck you into oblivion. You imagined him saying he owned you, that you were his. You thought about his rough hands and the places he could put them. Your brain lingered on the sensation of his rugged fingers in your mouth.

But you put these things out of your mind. As much as you wanted Eren you told yourself he was off limits. Why live out the cliché of childhood best friends falling for each other? It crossed your mind to ask him out before you went your separate ways after high school, but you decided not to risk it. Eren was too important.

College kept you two separate for a couple years. You stayed in contact, little texts here and there. The distance did you wonders. For the most part you were able to rid yourself of your lust for Eren. It was when summer arrived that things got complicated. It was the first one you had spent together since you graduated high school and Eren had the genius idea to stay at his weird half-brother’s house in Big Sur.

“It’ll be fun,” Eren whined.

You and Eren were sitting on a bench at a local park watching American coots paddle around in a pond. You mostly agreed to humor his request because he’d foot the bill for coffee. He alternated between talking the place up and absolutely roasting it.

“We can hike. Oh, and there’s this whiskey bar in Carmel we can go to before we get to Bixby Bridge. I know Zeke has cable so we can watch TV and he said there is a convenience store in the fucking village he lives in.”

You sighed and went to respond only for him to cut you off.

“But get this, he said a 12-pack of beer costs a shit ton because all them rich fucks can charge whatever they want. Yeah, he’s into drinking wine now. Did you know these ‘towns’ along the highway are barely towns? Do you know how expensive gas is around there?”

“Oh my god, chill. I can barely follow your thought process.”

Eren ignored you again.

“Oh! But they’ll probably sell those weird, cheesy magnets your mom likes. You know the ones I’m talking about.”

You knew exactly the ones he was talking about. Kitschy magnets with the names of places written in ugly fonts on them were something your mother had an affinity for.

“I’m in. I guess,” you said, resigning yourself to a strange summer.

“Oh, dope,” he said right before stealing a sip of your coffee.

Zeke lived right on the coast, a nice change from the city you languished in. On the drive there you dreamt of harmless fun. You’d flirt with Eren. You’d probably have an awkward kiss or two outside the convenience store. You’d sip port wine and hang out with a bunch of geriatrics in the hot springs. A dream you were ready to indulge in.

But rather than harmless fun you spent your first night drunk off your ass with Eren and Zeke, frolicking on the coastline after dark like a bunch of idiots. You noticed how Zeke’s eyes would linger on your body, taking in every inch. You tried your best to ignore him, but he made no attempt to hide his leering. He needed you to know he was looking whether you wanted him to or not.

“Can I help you?” you slurred.

“Can I help YOU?” he asked mockingly.

You scoffed and attempted to find Eren amongst the redwoods. You needed him as a buffer between you and Zeke. You called out Eren’s name but got no response.

“Maybe he died,” Zeke said, his tone almost cheerful. He was already making his way back to the house.

“Don’t say shit like that. What if he is dead? The cliffs are not stable. We shouldn’t be walking along them anyway.”

Zeke strolled back over to you.

“Aw, are you scared?”

He slung an arm around your waist, pulling you to his side. He reeked of the overpriced tequila you’d been drinking.

“Don’t worry. Eren’s strong.”

“Strength doesn’t really help when you’re tumbling off a cliff,” you said, the worried tone in your voice increasing with every word.

“Hush. You look cold.”

Zeke used his free hand to tweak your nipple. You smacked it away even though part of you enjoyed the attention.

He leaned in closer to you and whispered in your ear, “He’ll find his way back. Who knows when we’ll get any alone time again?”

Zeke started to grope you. Shoving him away had some semblance of appeal, but you didn’t. You let out a small moan as shoved his hand up your shirt and pinched your nipple between his nimble fingers once more. Your breath hitched as he moved behind you and started to grind up against your ass. His cock was hard as a rock.

“I almost died! Okay, not exactly. I did trip over 80 ice plants, but it’s fine.”

Eren stumbled out from the trees, bottle of tequila in hand. Zeke quickly dropped his hands and stepped back from you.

“The fuck you guys doin’?” Eren asked, squinting his eyes as if that would help him ascertain the situation.

“Nothing, your friend here wanted to head back without you.”

“Dude!” Eren yelled, utterly aghast at Zeke’s comment.

“What? I—No!” You struggled to find the words, you were still plagued with lust. “Zeke wanted to leave you!”

“Rude. My own brother… Can’t believe this shit.”

Eren took a swig from the bottle and glared at you both.

“Can’t trust family!” He gestured at Zeke with the bottle.

“Can’t… I… I can trust you. I didn’t think so at first. I kinda thought you were like being a bitch which sucked because you’re like my best fucking friend and like…Oh, fuck. I gotta sit the fuck down.”

Eren softened his gaze and wandered over to you. He rested his head on your shoulder. You cautiously rubbed his back. His shirt was sticky with sweat and it clung to his body.

Needless to say Eren did not sit the fuck down as he so crudely put.

“Rub it,” Eren loudly whispered.

You patted Eren’s back gently while Zeke cackled and started to head back.

“You know…” Eren trailed off, losing his thought mid-sentence.

He nuzzled his face into your neck and nipped at it. His lips were unbelievably soft. He wrapped his arms around you and proceeded to grab your ass. You fidgeted uncomfortably, desperately trying to ignore your throbbing clit.

“You… know what?” he mumbled. “I think we should go fucking eat some food.”

Eren let you go and wandered back towards the trail leading to Zeke’s place.

“If I don’t eat like macaroni and cheese I’ll end up doing something you’ll, fuck, I’ll regret.” He tossed his hands up in the air. “I mean, we’d both regret it. Equal opportunity regret, dude.”

“So, you’re really not his girlfriend?” Zeke asked over dinner, which was definitely not macaroni and cheese.

Zeke took to teasing you mercilessly much to Eren’s annoyance. Zeke thought of himself as being incredibly clever when he was actually incredibly obnoxious.

Eren answered for you. “No. Just friends. I’ve known her since I was fucking five. How many times do I gotta tell you?” Eren stabbed at a rogue green bean on his plate. You’d never seen him so angry at a vegetable.

“Sounds like a textbook romance to me.”

Eren proceeded to fling the bean at Zeke. However he totally missed; the bean hit the wall with a little, quiet thud.

“Why?” Zeke asked.

“I don’t need a reason.”

You sat in silence during their bickering. There was no point in getting involved.

“What do you have to say about this?” Zeke asked, glancing over at you, eyes narrowed.

Something in his tone made your skin warm. He lit a cigarette. Eren mentioned he had a nasty habit of doing so at the dinner table.

“Me and Eren? Please. I’ve seen him naked. Not. Im. Pressive.”

Eren sat at the table mouth agape.

“We were 15! And the only reason you saw my shit was because you pantsed me in PE. Also, I was flaccid! Flaaaaaciiiiiiiiiid.”

“Oof, guess I got all the big dick genes then,” Zeke said.

“Big dick genes? Big dick genes!?” Eren pointed his fork menacingly at him. “Who’d you get them from? Our dad? Did you inherit our dad’s enormous dick, huh? Big dick dad genes!?”

You stood up, needing to escape their nonsense. As you walked away you could still hear them arguing about dicks.

“Why are you talking about our dad’s dick? Shut up.”

“Never! I will never shut up!”

“Get out.”

“You get the fuck out!”

“Eren, I live here!”

You stepped inside the bathroom and sighed. You stared in the mirror questioning your decision to come. You leaned against the sink and played with your phone. Once you thought they were done bickering, you walked into the room without announcing yourself, startling Eren and Zeke.

“Oh, hi!” Eren cheeks were flushed.

“Welcome back. You missed absolutely nothing,” Zeke said.

You took your seat at the table. Both of the men averted their gaze from you. It was only vaguely awkward.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” you asked.

“Bed. We’re going to fucking bed, okay?”

“I’m not really tired,” you admitted.

“Never mind! Ugh. Bye!”

Eren stood up abruptly and stumbled into his room, slamming the door. Zeke sighed.

“He’ll be fine,” he said.

“I know. He tends to get emotional when he’s drunk and sleepy… and didn’t eat mac and cheese.”

“I’m an adult. I don’t eat that.”

You stared at him in complete disbelief.

“You must be so miserable if you ascribe age to certain foods.”

Zeke lit another cigarette, taking a rather large drag. His grey eyes were fixed on you.

“You’re not wrong,” he said, smirking.

“I never am.”

Zeke swiftly kicked you underneath the table. You winced as pain radiated up your leg.

“Cockiness isn’t very attractive.”

“You’re not very attractive,” you said, not realizing you put yourself on blast until it was too late.

“I find that hard to believe.” He stood up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing two shot glasses and that cursed bottle of tequila Eren had been carrying around. “You clearly have a thing for me.”

“What? No I don’t. You wish.” The words flew out of your mouth too quickly, it was clear you were lying through your teeth.

You were incredibly attracted to Zeke. Something about him made you feral and desperate to be fucked. He resumed his seat across from you. You watched as he poured two shots and nudged one towards you.

“I do wish. It’s too bad you don’t.”

You both knocked back a shot.

“You’re gross,” you said, wiping tequila residue from your lip.

“You don’t even realize how gross I can be.”

There was something almost sinister about his tone. It made your hands clammy.

Zeke continued. “I can show you, of course. I’m not averse to that.”

Zeke stood up and walked over to the couch. He fell backwards on it, sighing happily as he thudded onto it. You followed him and sat on the opposite end, keeping your distance from him. You weren’t sure what he was capable of. He might as well have been a rabid animal.

“Don’t be scared. I’m not even going to touch you. You just sit right there and be your precious self.”

“Uh, okay.”

He fiddled with his belt and pulled down his jeans revealing quite the erection. Your eyes widened; you couldn’t believe how ballsy he was. He stroked himself through his boxers, groaning ever so slightly. You couldn’t help but stare as he pulled out his cock and started to jerk off. Nothing could have pulled your attention away from him. He watched you, eyes half-lidded, clearly enjoying your gaze. Zeke let out an audible moan which made you look away, face hot with embarrassment. There was something heavenly about the way he sounded and you were ashamed you were so taken by it.

“Look at me,” Zeke demanded.

You met his gaze; his eyes were dark with ardor. He continued to pump his cock which had grown pink at the tip. You stared as pearls of precum dribbled down it. You were breathing heavily, trying to ignore how wet you were getting. Zeke relished in you falling apart at the seams.

“Do you realize how badly I want to cover your face with my cum?”

“No,” you said transfixed by Zeke jerking off.

“S—so bad,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’d make you knock on Eren’s door so he could see too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You nodded.

“Say it. I w—want to hear you say it.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I would like that a lot.”

“Fuck,” Zeke said, blushing. He angled his cock upward and came on his shirt. “Well, got that out of my system.”

Zeke sprung up off the couch and patted you on the head.

“You should go to bed. Get some rest.”

Eren knocked on your bedroom door early the next morning. It wasn’t a particularly gentle knock so you assumed something bad happened. You got up out of bed, not bothering to put on your robe. Your body was on full display under your thin, cotton nightgown.

“What? What’s going on?”

The urgency in your voice confused him.

“Nothing? I wanted to see you.”

“You see me all the time.”

He looked you up and down. The nightgown you wore did little to preserve your modesty. Luckily you didn’t really give two shits.

“Not like this. Never like this.”

He bit his lip, clearly trying to look flirtatious. You couldn’t help but laugh. Eren was so embarrassing sometimes. He reached out and brushed the strap of your nightgown down.

“Is that your attempt at undressing me?”

“It was, but now I kinda like the idea of you keeping it on. It’s hot. You almost look innocent.”

Eren looked like garbage. His hair was thrown up in a messy bun and his eyes were bloodshot. He absolutely reeked of alcohol.

“I’m assuming you didn’t sleep,” you surmised.

He yawned, stepping inside your room. He quickly shut the door behind him.

“Is it obvious?”

“I hate to break it to you, but yes. You look like you got released from the drunk tank too early. Are you gonna be able to hike today?”

“Yes, of course. But can I please get in bed with you? I promise I won’t try anything.”

You didn’t believe him, but you agreed to it anyway. You both crawled into bed; Eren snuggled up behind you.

“How does your hair smell nice?”

“I showered before I got in bed, dingus.”

“Rude.”

“Shush. Go to sleep.”

You shut your eyes and tried to ignore the fact that a very shirtless Eren was spooning you. You breathed deeply, centering yourself. You thought of Eren and you as dumb kids, hoping it would strip you of your need to grind up on him. You thought of every time he ate shit on his bike, that one time you caught him picking his nose in third grade, and that other time he called you mom.

You snickered at the last one.

“The fuck you laughing about?”

You continued to laugh. “Nothing, I just—Remember that time you called me mom because I told you not to jump off a roof?”

“I hadn’t in forever. Many thanks for reminding me.”

His hand trailed from your shoulder to your waist. He took a deep whiff of your hair.

“I know I said I wasn’t gonna try anything, but I’m having a hard time not popping a boner right now.”

“Oh.”

“Does that interest you at all?”

“If I say yes you won’t tell you brother, right?”

“Why does that matter?”

“It doesn’t, I guess.”

Eren started to massage your clit, his fingers rubbing it in a circular motion. He pushed his fingers inside you, and slowly pulled them out.

“Open your mouth.”

Your lips parted as Eren put his fingers in your mouth, you sucked them clean. You pressed yourself up against him, grinding against his stiff cock. He stifled a moan as Zeke pounded on the door.

“I made coffee if you’re interested, which I know you are.”

“Cool! Thanks!” you said freeing yourself from Eren’s grip.

You sat at the edge of the bed and tried to make yourself presentable. Eren sighed.

“I’m surprised he didn’t barge in.”

Eren got off the bed and handed you your robe.

“Is that something he would do?” you asked, pulling it on.

Eren shrugged even though he definitely had an inkling as to why Zeke would do such a thing. It occurred to you to press him for more details, but you wanted today to be normal. You wanted a normal hike to Pfeiffer Falls, one that would end with you all sitting on the ground eating granola bars, complaining about the lack of bathrooms.

That night you all opted to have a quieter evening watching television mindlessly. You were sitting on the couch, wedged between Eren and Zeke. A bottle of port that Eren bought earlier that day sat half empty on the table.

You were all rather exhausted from the hike. Eren rested his head on your shoulder, his hair still wet from his shower. He was shirtless, as per usual, and wearing light grey sweatpants that left little to the imagination. It was almost like he was actively trying to seduce you. Zeke however seemingly took a more casual approach, though just as obnoxious. He wore a simple, fitted white t-shirt and pajama pants that looked like they were made from the floral wallpaper of a dentist’s office in 1996. You opted once more for a nightgown.

“More wine?” Zeke asked, grabbing the bottle off the table and filling his glass to the brim.

“Ugh, no,” Eren responded.

“And the lady?”

“She says no too.” Eren punctuated his sentence with a pout.

“As much as I hate Eren speaking for me, I have to agree. I’m good for now.”

“Suit yourselves,” Zeke said, taking a sip from his glass.

You tried to focus on the TV. You hoped the calming voice of David Attenborough and clumsy penguins would distract you. Zeke glanced over at you with a slight smile on his face. His rested his hand on your thigh, giving it little squeeze. His hand trailed up, stopping once he was near your vulva. Eren quickly looked over and gasped.

“Wow!”

“What? Come on, Eren. Can’t I have some fun while you guys are here?”

“This isn’t what we agreed on,” Eren said.

You pivoted towards Eren, face growing hotter by the second.

“What… did you agree on?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison.

Zeke squeezed your thigh again, you turned towards him.

“You’re into it, huh? You seemed pretty turned on watching me jerk off last night.”

“You what?!”

“Eren, relax. She liked it. Isn’t that right?”

Zeke placed his hand on your cheek and kissed you deeply but it was over before you knew it. Eren was seething.

“Come here,” Eren seethed.

Eren grabbed your face and shoved his tongue down your throat. There was a level of desperation to his kiss, like he was trying to prove something, show you how devoted he was. His tongue glided against yours and he tangled his fingers in your hair. He took your hand and placed it on his hard cock. You massaged to tip causing Eren to moan ever so slightly.

“F—fuck,” he choked out.

“Alright! Well, you two have fun,” Zeke teased.

He got up and walked out into the yard, lighting up a cigarette.

You pulled down Eren’s sweatpants and started to stroke his cock. He had his green eyes fixed on you while he panted.

“Want a blowjob?” you asked playfully.

“Please,” he begged.

You leaned over and licked the tip of his cock. You glanced up at him and he looked like he was in a daze, suspended in utter disbelief.

“S—so good, baby.”

Baby. You never dreamed he’d call you something other than dude. You breathed through your nose and gradually swallowed more and more of his cock, pausing once you got the entirety of it in your mouth. You looked up at him, eyes watering.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he cooed.

Eren pushed your head further down on his throbbing erection. You let him facefuck you as a deluge of drool exited your mouth. You choked, causing Eren to pull you off his cock by your hair.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes still plagued with lust.

You went to answer but noticed Zeke was standing outside, watching you two through the window. He was laughing his ass off, clearly he had seen everything. Eren looked over at him and rolled his eyes.

“We can just ignore him,” he muttered.

You resumed sucking Eren’s cock. His hips bucked against your face, each thrust filling your mouth with more of his cum. He moaned loudly, not making any attempt to quiet himself. You happily swallowed every drop you milked from his cock. Once you finished you looked up at Eren, praying for praise. He smiled.

“I’m in awe of you and your skill.”

He stroked your face and gave you a small peck on the lips.

“Are you guys decent?” Zeke asked, opening the door a crack.

Eren sat there with his semi-hard dick hanging out.

“Yeah,” he responded.

You pulled Eren’s sweatpants up. Zeke strolled over and took his seat next to you.

He put his arm around your shoulder and whispered in your ear, “Great form by the way, even if you nearly choked.”

Eren sat in silence, blushing like crazy. He fidgeted a little. Zeke leaned forward to look at Eren.

“You really should be gentler with her.”

“I know!”

Zeke turned his attention back to you.

“So do you want to fuck or?”

You didn’t expect him to be so forward. You looked at Eren, not sure how to answer.

“I don’t care, do what you want,” he said, getting off the couch and retreating to his room.

Zeke lifted you onto his lap. He pulled your nightgown over your head, revealing your breasts. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He cradled your face in his hands while your tongue collided with his. His mouth tasted like tobacco and wine. He pulled his cock out of his pants and rubbed up against your clothed clit. You pushed your underwear to the side and slid Zeke’s cock inside you.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, as he started to thrust.

“F—f—feels so good.”

He slowly plunged his cock inside you, his gaze fixed on you, taking in every wince and gasp you let out. You held onto him, relishing in him stretching you out. His cock felt divine as it throbbed within you.

“Do you mind if I pick up the pace a little?” he asked with a velvety tone.

You nodded and Zeke immediately started to fuck you like the world was ending. He pounded his cock into your cunt with no mercy. You cried out as he slammed against your cervix, the pain shooting up through your core. Your breathing labored as he continued to thrust harder and harder. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and moaned his name. Your orgasm inched closer and closer.

“Call for Eren to come out here.”

“What?! No,” you said, bobbing up and down on Zeke’s cock.

“Do it. Or I won’t let you come.”

“But,” you whined.

“Be a good girl and I’ll reward you.”

You sighed as Zeke immobilized you on his cock. You squirmed around, hoping to pleasure yourself. It was a thankless task. You resigned yourself to what was going to happen.

“Hey, Eren,” you shouted.

Zeke started to fuck you again. Eren cracked open his door and peeked his head out.

“Yeah? Oh, you guys are still going at it.”

Just as he went to shut the door, Zeke called out to him.

“Come spit in her mouth. You know, as punishment for being a slut or something. I don’t know, I didn’t really think about it,” he said, bottoming out in you.

Your eyes widened. Eren strolled out of his room with a blanket wrapped around him. Zeke pulled on your hair, cranking your neck back. You stared up at the ceiling until Eren came into view. He stood over you, gazing down at your breasts.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly. Zeke’s cock was still pulsating inside you.

“Open wide,” Eren said, as he carefully spit in your mouth.

Lucky for you it didn’t taste like much, maybe a tad sweet if anything. Zeke let go of your hair as Eren wandered back off to his room. This time he didn’t shut the door all the way.

“You’re so obedient,” Zeke said as he resumed fucking you.

He kissed your neck, beard tickling your skin, as you were overcome with pleasure. You tried to stifle your moans but it was no use. Your orgasm radiated throughout your body. Volume control was no longer an option. You wondered what Eren was doing right now. Was he listening? Was he into it? Or was he just going along with it, all the while harboring some deep seated resentment towards you and Zeke?

Zeke finished inside you with little fanfare. He lifted you off his cock and got up off the couch.

“Are… you going to bed?” you asked, wondering if he’d invite you to sleep next to him. You looked around for your nightgown.

“Probably, why?”

“I wanted to—”

“Go cuddle with Eren. He’ll be crabby if you don’t.”

Zeke walked away, shutting his bedroom door. You stood there, cold and naked, unable to find your clothes.

“Hey.”

You turned around and it was Eren. He came towards you and wrapped you up in the blanket that he was previously bundled up in.

“Sorry for spitting in your mouth,” he said sheepishly.

“It’s… okay.”

“Did you like it?”

“I—I did.”

Eren cleared his throat.

“I, uh, did too. It involving, you know, Zeke was… something.”

“Are you, like, okay with all this?”

He scratched the back of his head.

“I think so. I mean, I don’t hate it. It’s… weird. But I… I mean, look at you. I can see why he is,” Eren struggled to find the right words, “into you.”

You smiled at his nervousness.

“You can see why? Are you into me?

“You just swallowed my jizz. Of course I’m at least kinda into you.”

He gave you a noogie, harkening back to the days when you were rambunctious kids. He led you to his room and you collapsed on the bed with him. He sprawled out almost immediately; he went full starfish. His brown locks laid around him on his pillow like a halo. You cuddled up next to his side and he wrapped an arm around you. You held your head to his chest; his skin was warm. It was welcoming, it felt like home. You craved familiarity after something so strange had occurred. You drifted off listening to the waves crashing against the cliffs.

It was a lazy morning the next day. Eren was draped over the couch like pashmina. You were planted next to him, with Zeke on the floor between your legs. A Chemex sat on the coffee table, brewing at a snail’s pace.

“Why don’t you just get a normal coffee pot?” Eren asked, his hand pressed to his forehead giving the question a certain dramatic flair.

“Come on, look at it.” Zeke gestured towards it. “Don Draper had one.”

“Who the hell is Don Draper?”

“Main character from Mad Men,” you answered.

Eren rolled his eyes. “Ew. My mom watched that show.”

“Your mom has good taste,” you said, playfully grabbing Eren’s foot.

“No, she doesn’t. Look who she’s married to,” Zeke quipped.

Eren perked up and glared at him.

“Don’t talk about my mom.”

“What are you going to do if I—ow!” You flicked the back of Zeke’s head.

“It’s too early for this,” you chided.

The brothers sighed and ceased their nonsense. You noticed the coffee was done and poured it into the three mugs on the table. Eren and Zeke groaned in unison as they reached for them, as if they were in excruciating pain from such a minor movement.

“Have we decided what we wanna do today?” Eren asked, cautiously sipping his coffee.

“We could take a boat to McWay Falls,” you suggested.

“I hate boats, dude.”

“We could fuck,” Zeke chimed in.

You and Eren nearly choked on your coffee.

“You,” Zeke gestured towards you. “We could fuck you. I didn’t think I needed to specify that. Didn’t realize you were a couple of degenerates that think I would fuck my brother.”

“How, uh, does that sound?” Eren asked, nudging you with his foot.

Your cunt was throbbing at the mere thought; it was hard to think straight, to articulate something coherent. You would have been lying if you tried to say it hadn’t crossed your mind. You were curious as to what it’d be like to have both of them worshiping your body, their hands roaming all over you.

“I—I could be down for that.”

Zeke turned around and started to pull down your pajama shorts, wasting no time. He peeled off your underwear, soaked with your juices.

“It doesn’t take much to get you going, does it?” Zeke asked with a devilish grin on his face.

He kissed the inside of your thighs. His beard tickled your skin; you couldn’t help but tremble. You ran your fingers through his hair as dragged his tongue along your cunt, prodding its entrance. You tossed your head back and moaned. Eren crawled over to you. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his chiseled abs. He held your face in his rough hands and started to make out with you. You happily welcomed his tongue, rolling it against his. He shoved his hand under your shirt, groping you.

Zeke sucked on your clit; you could hear him faintly moaning as he did so. You savored the indecent noises he made as he lapped at your wet cunt.

“Are you having fun?” Eren asked, stroking your cheek.

“Y—yes,” you said, trying to maintain composure.

“Good,” he replied, lifting up your shirt and tossing it to the side.

Eren started to suck on your breast, tracing his tongue around your pert nipple. You moaned loudly, resigning yourself to the debauchery taking place. Zeke nibbled on your labia; you instinctively shut your legs, pressing his face between your thighs. He groaned and pushed your legs apart, his rough hands gripping you hard enough to bruise.

“Didn’t like that, huh?” He asked, adjusting his glasses.

“It was su—surprising. I w—wasn’t expecting it.”

You looked over at Eren and noticed a wet spot growing on the crotch of his sweatpants. He kept sucking on your nipple, his eyes closed in ecstasy.

“You might as well fuck him.”

“Huh?”

“Eren. I mean, look at him. Could he be more pathetic?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Eren said, his breath balmy against your breast.

“I’d rather be fucking her.”

“If anyone gets to fuck her it’s me; you already had your turn.”

Zeke rubbed your clit with his thumb.

“Are you jealous? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. You should have seen her, she was practically trembling on my dick. Weren’t you?”

A muted “mhm” was all you could manage. Eren furrowed his brow and grabbed your wrist.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you said, starry-eyed.

“Get on your hands and knees, now.”

You glared at him. Eren’s authoritative tone gave way to one you were more familiar with.

“Get on your hands and knees now, please?”

 Zeke let go of you and you did as you were told. You snickered as Eren positioned himself behind you. He slapped his cock against your cunt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, drunk on the stinging pain it left behind. Zeke patted your head as he slowly stroked his cock. His breath hitched as he palmed his tip, his hips gently bucking against his hand. He stared down at you, eyes half-lidded. You met his gaze, his eyes full of desire. He took his cock and brushed the tip against your lips leaving them glossy with precum. You went to open your mouth, anticipating his cock, but he pulled it away just as it was in your reach.

“Don’t tease her,” Eren growled.

“Fine.”

You opened your mouth only for it to remain empty.

“This… this is kind of weird, isn’t it?” Zeke mused.

Eren slid this cock into your cunt with total ease. He grunted as you tightened around him.

“It’s not that weird. She’s in between us, it’s fine. Just like you’ve been saying.”

“Uh.”

“I know but I didn’t really think hard enough about it,” Zeke said, tacking on a nervous laugh.

“Uh?!” You said with more urgency.

“What?” Zeke asked, his tone bristling with annoyance.

“Was this your plan the whole time?”

“Not the whole time,” Eren panicked. “It was that night at dinner. We—we talked about it as a joke.”

“Are you backing out, Eren?”

“No, if anything you are. I’m already inside her,” Eren sniped.

Eren thrusted furiously. His cock slammed against your cervix as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside you. You looked up at Zeke and grabbed his cock. You thumbed the tip.

“You know you wanna fuck my mouth, Zeke,” you teased.

“What makes you so sure?”

“I—fuck! Eren!”

Eren smacked your ass, the shock reverberating through your body. Zeke laughed and slid his cock into your mouth. He held onto your head as he thrust in and out.

“You’re too good at this,” Zeke moaned.

“It’s kinda surprising, baby,” Eren said.

Eren dug his nails into your hips as he thrusted away, his balls clapping against your taint. His cock pulsed inside you as he grunted. Zeke continued fucking your throat. Both of their cocks were thicker than you were used to taking. You moaned as your body was in the throes of an orgasm. You would have collapsed had they not been holding you up.

“I’m close. Like really close,” Eren said through his teeth.

“Pull out, I have an idea.”

Eren and Zeke removed their cocks from you.

“Knees,” Zeke commanded.

You got on your knees and opened your mouth. You weren’t stupid; you knew where they were going with this. They started jerking off. You gazed up at them, totally fucked out. Eren came first and his cum landed perfectly on your tongue. It dripped down your chest as you sloppily swallowed it.

“Sh—shit,” Zeke sputtered as he painted you white with his load. Your cheek was dappled with his cum.

“Did it get in your eye?” he asked, voice tinged with concern.

“No, I would be screaming and calling the fire department if you did that.”

Eren grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and gingerly cleaned you up.

“I’d say let’s all shower but that’s a little much even for me,” Zeke said, getting off the couch. “You two have fun, don’t get too crazy.”

Eren lifted you off the couch and bridal carried you to his room.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you said, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

He beamed down at you. “Me neither. You’re, uh, down to again, right?”

You laughed. “I mean, we’re here for a week. What else are we gonna do? Hike every day? Pick sand out of our asses?”

[mononijikayu]

only fools — fushiguro toji

In that fleeting moment of intimacy, time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you lost yourself in the warmth of each other's embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent vow of love and devotion that echoed in the depths of your souls. Over and over again, you smiled against his lips and he smiled back. It was contentment, it was everything.

GENRE: Pre-Hidden Inventory Arc, 1990s - 2000s;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Friendship, Romance, Star-Crossed Lovers, Emotional Hurt, Mentions of Character Death, Mention of Grief, Mention of Mourning, Mention of Alcholism, Mention of Death, Depiction of Physical Touch, , Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining;

masterlist

kayu's playlist, side 400;

listen: only fools (cover) by bts rm and jungkook

note: this one has a bit of connection to us and them, as my ocs were heavily featured in this!!! i went back and forth with how to write this. but this is what i came out with. its lent and the holy time for many christians and muslims, so i thought writing about something this long. i wanted to cut it even more but well, i thought whatever i wrote is more genuine. if i cut it, i feel like it would lose the genuinity. so here it is!!! enjoy it, i hope you have a good holiday, i hope you all rest up and hydrate!!! i love you all!!! <3

YOU WERE BOTH SO YOUNG WHEN ZENIN TOJI MET FIRST MET YOU. In the expansive grounds surrounding the Zenin manor, amidst the towering trees that seemed to stretch towards the heavens, your presence stood out like a delicate bloom in a field of thorns. Zenin Toji couldn't help but notice you, a small figure nestled among the dense foliage, almost like a forgotten relic of a bygone era. You were like the little geisha dolls Genmei carries around with her, long black hair falling over your knees, dressed prim and proper like a proud and noble lady. Toji was used to seeing girls like you around Zenin manor. But rarely did he ever see one in such a state like you. 

If uncle Naobito’s wife saw you, she would have smacked your head up and down. But she was not and Toji was never going to tell. Not that he needed to. You were no Zenin. You were someone else. It was intriguing to watch you, how tightly you rested your head against the bark of the tree. How deeply your kimono is tightly pressed against your body. You were cocooned in your own touch, as though protecting yourself from the world beyond. Despite the grandeur that existed about your presence, you appeared diminutive and unassuming, as if time itself had overlooked your presence.

Your posture, huddled against the chill of the earth, spoke volumes of your resilience and quiet strength. Even as your elegant sleeves trailed along the ground, gathering flecks of dirt and grime, you seemed unconcerned with the state of your attire, your focus directed inward rather than on superficial appearances. It was a stark contrast to the lavish gatherings and opulent displays that often characterized life within the Zenin estate. The last place for such a fine little noble lady should be this edge of the Zenin estate. Not even servants dwelled here.

Toji couldn't help but be drawn to you, the embodiment of serenity amidst the chaos of their world. As he approached, a sense of familiarity washed over him, as if he had stumbled upon a kindred spirit in the midst of the vast wilderness. This shared affinity forged a connection between them, bridging the gap between two souls seeking refuge from the pressures and expectations of their surroundings.

In the tranquility of that secluded spot, Toji couldn't help but sense a shared need for sanctuary, a desire to escape the relentless demands of their respective worlds. He understood, perhaps more than most, the weight of expectation and duty that rested upon your shoulders. It was a burden he bore himself, one that had been ingrained in him since they had concluded that he was useless to them. Despite being the son of the previous clan head, Toji was relegated to be as lowly as servants. The name Zenin did not mean anything, if he didn’t have powers. The good will of others was what let him remain untouched. Well, untouched enough not to be beaten.

Toji's mind drifted to his cousin Naoki, a constant presence in his life and a rare source of solace amidst the turmoil of their upbringing. Naoki had always been there for him, offering companionship and camaraderie when the weight of their responsibilities threatened to crush them both.If anything, cousin Naoki was the only one that ever truly felt genuine to him in this house. Together, they sought refuge in the simple pleasures of childhood, finding respite from the rigid expectations of their noble lineage. As he had gotten older, he was more a brother to him than Jinichi ever was. Toji supposes he likes it that way. He felt a little bummed out that he was forced to meddle about with those high rise pricks from the other clans. But that’s his duty, as uncle Naobito’s eldest son, after all. 

As he observed you from his vantage point, towering over you with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue, The young Zenin man couldn't help but wonder about the young beauty before him. He wonders about what’s there behind the serene facade of your silk fabrics. He had many questions for you. How had you stumbled upon this hidden sanctuary? What trials and tribulations had led you to seek solace among the trees of the Zenin estate? Most of all, where were your shoes?

Yet, despite his curiosity, Toji remained silent, content to observe you from afar, his gaze silent. As though he was trying to figure out the puzzle in his head before he even dared approach you. He had to be careful. None would perhaps mind if it was another Zenin he was meddling with. But it’s quite obvious that you were not Zenin. You were in fact another clan child. And if he doesn't thread carefully, then the clans may end up with animosity. He did not want any trouble, that was pointless. And even then, that would be another headache for Naoki. He couldn’t give more trouble to solve. In that moment, surrounded by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft whispers of the wind, you were a mystery waiting to be unraveled, a puzzle whose pieces he yearned to uncover.

The three big clans always came together in these little clique circles, echoed in the small bubble that existed between each and everyone of them. In truth, no one wanted to be here. None of the big three ever liked each other. Yet it was more pretense than anything else. Whoever plays the best, becomes the face of their world. No one has ever liked the bullshit of it all. Not his cousin Naoki, not his daughter, not even Toji himself wanted to be here. And so he escapes as often as he can. He goes to the farthest echoes of the manor, on this tree and lays here, wallowing in the world he builds underneath the shades of the tree.

Seeking solace from the stifling atmosphere, Toji made his escape, slipping away from the confines of the courtyard into the relative sanctuary of the surrounding trees. It was there that he encountered you, the sight of your expensive attire contrasting sharply with the disheveled state of your posture. Your kimono, adorned with the finest silks and threads, hung loosely on your frame, creased and crumpled from your slouched position against the massive tree trunks.

Toji couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the sight. What a waste, he thought, observing the careless disregard with which you treated such exquisite garments. With a resigned sigh, he crossed his arms over his chest, knowing that he couldn't ignore your presence any longer. As much as he longed to bask in the warmth of the sun and enjoy his peaceful afternoon uninterrupted, he understood that he had to address the situation at hand.

As Toji prepared to address you, his words poised on the tip of his tongue, he was taken aback when you suddenly lifted your head, tears streaming down your face. The sight of your tear-streaked cheeks and brimming eyes hit him like a physical blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. Your eyes, wide and doe-like, held a depth of grief that struck a chord within him, stirring a pang of empathy in his heart.

In that moment, all of Toji's intentions to reprimand you dissipated, replaced by a profound sense of compassion. He found himself unable to speak, his lips pursed as he took a hesitant step back, overwhelmed by the raw emotion emanating from you.

As you continued to cry, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment at your display of vulnerability in front of a stranger, Zenin Toji felt a surge of discomfort mingled with empathy. He watched as you wiped your tears away with your silk sleeves, your sobs muffled against the fabric, your words lost amidst the tumult of emotions.

Toji's voice broke through the heavy silence, surprisingly gentle as he approached you cautiously. It shocked him too. Not even to little Genmei. So, he supposes he wasn’t accustomed to sounding so gentle, but maybe his body was being courteous for once. "Hey," he began, concern evident in his tone. "Are you alright?"

You sniffled, glancing up at him with tear-stained eyes, your expression a mixture of embarrassment and anguish. "I... I'm sorry," you managed to choke out between sobs, your voice trembling with emotion.

Toji's lips tightened in a line, his initial irritation melting away in the face of your distress. "No need to apologize," he reassured, his voice softening as he crouched down beside you. "I just didn’t expect to find anyone here, that's all. What's wrong? Did you get lost?”

You could only shake your head at him, unable to form coherent words as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you once more. That was not the answer Toji wanted or needed. It seemed like a lie that you did not get lost. But he doesn’t speak just yet. Letting you cry as you do.Pushing would just give him more of a headache. Instead, you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your grief. Toji was at a loss. He’d never had anyone cry to him like this. Not even Genmei. She cries and then hits him profusely, like the little brat she was. He’d never had anyone be this emotional. Not even his mother was this emotional.

Toji hesitated for a moment before tentatively placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's alright," he murmured, offering what little solace he could muster in the midst of your tears. He wasn’t accustomed to comforting anyone. If anything, what little he knew of it came from cousin Naoki. But Zenin Toji felt rather uncomfortable with this explosion of empathy. He wasn’t used to it at all.

He waited patiently, allowing you the space to compose yourself, the sounds of your quiet sobs filling the air around you. The wind blew against your pristine long hair, the edges dancing against its blow. After a moment, you lifted your tiny head, wiping away the last of your tears with a shaky breath. Toji couldn’t help but think it was a pity you were crying. You were really pretty. Not like some of his Zenin cousins. They’re rough, too rough and edged bluntly. Genmei was more like a Mikoto in her beauty, she did not count. You felt like a small beautiful flower, one that needed sheltering. You were out of place here.

"I'm sorry for intruding," you whispered, your voice still raw with emotion, lips trembling. “I’m sorry for causing your annoyance too.”

The raven-haired young man sighed, rubbing the back of his head. You’ve apologized enough for his liking. "It's alright. You're not intruding. If I were here in the Zenin manor too, I would weep tears too.”

You paused, uncertain whether to trust this stranger who stumbled upon your moment of vulnerability. It was wise to be cautious; after all, you knew nothing about this young man. He appeared rough around the edges, far from the picture of gentleness. Yet, despite his outward appearance, there was something in the calmness of his voice and the sincerity of his gaze that put you at ease. He seemed to understand, at least to some extent, the turmoil you were experiencing.

"What's wrong?" Toji's gentle voice pierced the heavy silence once more, his concern evident in his tone. "It's okay if you don't want to share everything."

Taking a deep breath, you mustered the courage to speak. "My mother... she hit me," you admitted, your voice trembling under the weight of your confession. Toji regarded you with newfound insight, recognizing the resemblance to Lord Kamo's brother. You must be Kaiko's cousin, the one often seen alongside Genmei. You were one of those Kamo girls he occasionally encountered.

"Just because I sat improperly at the table," you continued, your words laced with sadness and frustration. "She called me a stupid girl and said I'm not at all a proper lady."

The emerald-eyed man's expression darkened at your words, a mixture of sympathy and anger flashing in his eyes. It saddened him deeply to see someone belonging to a prestigious clan endure such treatment. He knew all too well the coldness and cruelty that could lurk within those esteemed families. Having lived through it himself, he harbored a profound hatred for the lack of warmth and empathy that often pervaded such environments. 

And as he looked into your eyes, gleaming with bitterness and sadness, he sensed that you shared his disdain for the oppressive traditions of your lineage. You were all just pawns, little toys to the powerful. If the powerful were the oppressive gods, both of you, many of you, were just the mindless little monkeys that they could play around with. And he hated it. He hated it ever so much.

"It's not your fault," Toji asserted firmly, his voice carrying both reassurance and conviction. "You don't deserve to be treated like that. You're not a stupid girl. And you are a proper lady, no matter what anyone says."

You huffed in response, frustration evident in your tone. "You don’t even know me," you retorted.

Toji chuckled softly, his amusement tinged with a hint of bitterness. "No need to know you to recognize the truth. We're both nothing but pawns to our clans. I understand how you feel."

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes. "You do?"

Toji nodded solemnly, his gaze distant as if lost in memories of his own struggles. "Yeah, I do," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "I've seen enough to know how it goes. The expectations, the pressures... It's suffocating."

As you looked at Toji, a wave of gratitude washed over you, accompanied by a newfound sense of respect for the young man kneeling beside you. Despite the initial wariness you felt towards him, his kindness and understanding had softened your heart. In a world where every interaction seemed transactional, where people often looked out only for themselves and their own interests, encountering someone like Toji was a rare and unexpected blessing.

His rough exterior belied a depth of character that took you by surprise. Beneath the stoic facade lay a compassionate soul, willing to lend a sympathetic ear and offer comfort without judgment. It was a revelation, a reminder that humanity still existed amidst the harsh realities of their world.

For the first time in a long while, you didn't feel quite so alone in your struggles. The simple act of sharing your burdens with Toji, of knowing that someone else understood your pain, lifted a weight off your shoulders. It was a fleeting moment of connection, but in that moment, it felt like you had found a kindred spirit, a companion in the darkness who offered a glimmer of light and hope.

"I'm sorry," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to burden you with my problems."

Toji shifted his sleeves to the side. "Don't worry about it," he said plainly. “It’s nothing.”

As you sniffled softly, a sense of vulnerability washed over you, prompting you to confess your earlier deception to Toji. The admission hung heavy in the air, accompanied by a blush of embarrassment that colored your cheeks. 

Toji's response, a hearty laugh that echoed through the tranquil surroundings, caught you off guard. His laughter was infectious, and despite your initial indignation, you couldn't help but find yourself chuckling along with him. It was a moment of unexpected levity amidst the weight of your shared troubles, a brief respite from the seriousness of your conversation.

However, as your laughter subsided and you attempted to regain your composure, Toji's teasing remark caused your blush to deepen once more. His playful jab at your earlier statement about being a lady caught you off guard, and you shot him a playful yet reproachful glare.

"That's not funny," you protested, your tone laced with propriety’s indignation. "Laughing at a lady—"

“I thought you weren’t a lady.”

Toji's mischievous grin widened as he observed your playful indignation, finding amusement in your reaction. He recognized your beauty, undeniable even in the midst of your embarrassment, but there was something more to you that intrigued him. Unlike many of the beauties he had encountered within the prestigious clans, who often seemed devoid of personality or charm, you possessed a spark of vitality and spirit that set you apart.

In that moment, as you exchanged banter beneath the shade of the tree where you had first met, Zenin Toji couldn't help but feel a sense of appreciation for your authenticity. There was a depth to you that went beyond mere appearances, a complexity that intrigued him and drew him in. And as he teases you playfully, he finds himself enjoying the lively exchange. It’s more anyone of those clan ladies can offer him, he thinks.

“But I am a lady!” You insist on him, standing up to face him and stomping your feet. You looked so small to his bigger figure, you looked exactly like a doll. “You ought not to laugh!”

As Toji's laughter subsided, he met your indignant gaze with a calm yet playful demeanor, his emerald eyes sparkling with amusement. Despite your insistence on your ladylike status, he couldn't help but find your defiance endearing, a testament to your spirited nature.

"Toji," he corrected you gently, his tone soft but firm. You blinked in surprise, absorbing the simplicity of his request. "My name is Zenin Toji."

You paused, momentarily taken aback by the informality of his address. It was unusual for someone of his status to discard the formalities associated with his surname. Nevertheless, you nodded in acknowledgment, offering a shy introduction of your own as a member of the Kamo clan.

"N-nice to meet you, Lord Toji—" you began, only to be interrupted by his gentle interjection.

"Just Toji," he reiterated, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. His demeanor was relaxed, devoid of the pretentiousness often associated with those of noble lineage. "The Zenin part doesn't matter."

You felt a warmth spread through you at Toji's casual demeanor, a stark contrast to the rigid formality you were accustomed to within the confines of your own clan. His easy nonchalant nature had put you at ease, allowing you to shed some of the layers of formality that typically accompanied interactions with individuals of higher status. It didn’t feel stifling to stand beside him, to exist beside him like this. Zenin or Kamo, it didn’t matter. 

"Alright, Toji," you replied with a shy smile, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue feeling strangely liberating. "It's nice to meet you too."

Toji nodded in response, a snicker appearing on his lips. “Nice to meet you too, little doll.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden hues painting the world in a soft, ethereal light, you were drawn to the serene connection that had blossomed between you and Toji. It was a sanctuary amidst the chaos of your clans' expectations, a tranquil haven where the weight of tradition melted away.

Beneath the comforting shade of the ancient tree where your paths first crossed, you and Toji nurtured a bond that defied the confines of lineage. Here, amidst the whispers of nature, you found solace from the rigidity of societal norms, basking in the freedom to simply exist as yourselves.

You looked at him, as he watched the sun sleep.

For the first time in your life, you had a friend.

And so you smiled, finally ever so genuinely.

YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO SEE HIM AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. As time flowed onward, your excursions to the Zenin Manor alongside your cousin Kaiko grew more frequent, granting you ample chances to cross paths with Toji in his customary haven beneath the ancient trees. Though these visits were not formal arrangements, they became a welcomed routine, a quiet understanding between you and your cousin, Kaiko. 

When you expressed your desire to reconnect with the friend you had made at the last clan gathering, she embraced the idea with enthusiasm. Without hesitation, she incorporated you into her entourage. None can stop her. There was no other heir to the Kamo. No son can rival her strength and so she was free to do as she wished. In that power, she grants you the freedom to pursue your own interests while she pursues her own amusements, often joining the Zenin heir's child in their playful antics. For that, you were delighted.

As time progressed, your interactions with Toji blossomed from mere pleasantries into meaningful exchanges. You often found him diligently serving the Zenin heir, Lord Naoki, as his trusted aide. Lord Naoki was a figure constantly in motion, overseeing every aspect of the manor's affairs. Once his duties in the field were fulfilled, he would immerse himself in the endless paperwork, particularly those tasks neglected by his father, Lord Naobito. Toji revealed to you that the elder Zenin had little interest in anything beyond his indulgences, leaving the responsibilities to accumulate unchecked until Lord Naoki intervened, assuming his father's duties and restoring order to the estate. 

Before his current role, Toji had been relegated to menial tasks among the ranks of the servants, a position considered beneath his station as the son of a former clan leader. It was a stark reminder of the disdain harbored by Lord Naobito's cronies, who deemed Toji unworthy of the Zenin name due to his lack of cursed techniques. Despite his lineage, they saw him as a stain upon the clan's reputation, dubbing him a ‘useless monkey’ in their disparaging remarks. Meanwhile, Lord Naoki was absent from the Zenin manor, accompanying his wife on a journey to Hida to pay respects to her family's lineage.

Upon Lord Naoki's return, his fury knew no bounds. Toji recounted the scene with a mix of awe and trepidation, describing how his cousin's usually composed demeanor had been replaced by a seething rage unlike anything he had ever witnessed before. In a violent display of retribution, Lord Naoki exacted vengeance upon all those who had belittled Toji, leaving them bloodied and broken in his wake. He even dared to confront his own father, defying the authority of the patriarch in defense of his cousin.

Witnessing this ferocious loyalty, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude that Toji wasn't alone in his struggles. He had someone in his corner, just as you did with Kaiko. In a world where alliances were crucial and loneliness loomed like a specter, the bond you shared with Toji deepened as you both found solace in each other's company, united by the shared experience of feeling marginalized and underestimated by those around you.

As time passed, your visits to the Zenin Manor became more than just occasional encounters. They evolved into cherished moments of respite from the rigors of clan life, offering you an escape into a world of serene tranquility alongside Toji. The towering trees of the manor's grounds became your sanctuary, a haven where you could seek refuge from the chaos of your respective families.

In these quiet moments, you found solace in the gentle presence of Toji, his silent companionship offering a soothing balm to the wounds inflicted by the harsh realities of clan politics. Together, you would while away the hours beneath the shade of the familiar tree, lost in the pages of a book as you read aloud to him. Toji, reclined against the sturdy trunk, would listen intently, his emerald eyes tracing the dance of sunlight filtering through the leaves above.

For Toji, the spoken words held a melody that transcended mere literature. He was never that interested in literature. Not even when his cousin Naoki would insist on him reading the classics—that Toji admits without shame. Yet when he encouraged her to continue reading, he had that tender look in his eyes. Ones that she could never read. They were a symphony of solace for the soul. Words that weave a tapestry of comfort and understanding that enveloped him in a cocoon of peace, at least that's what you hope. He rarely spoke, content to let the beauty of the natural world and the soft cadence of your voice wash over him like a gentle tide.

In the tranquil embrace of Toji's company, you discovered a newfound appreciation for the beauty of silence. In contrast to the rigid expectations of the Kamo clan, where silence was enforced as a virtue and communication often felt stifled, the quiet moments shared with Toji felt liberating. There was no pressure to fill the air with meaningless chatter or conform to the expectations of societal norms. Instead, you found freedom in the gentle cadence of shared silence, where words were unnecessary and understanding transcended verbal communication.

With Toji by your side, the silence became a sanctuary—a space where you could simply be yourself without fear of judgment or scrutiny. It was a welcome reprieve from the cacophony of expectations that surrounded you in the world of the clans, offering a sense of peace and tranquility that was both rare and precious.

As you reveled in the simple pleasure of each other's company, you found solace in the serenity of the natural world around you. The rustle of leaves in the breeze, the gentle hum of insects, and the distant song of birds formed a symphony of tranquility that enveloped you both in its embrace. In those moments, the unspoken understanding that bound you together felt palpable, weaving a tapestry of connection that defied words.

Indeed, there was a time when silence unnerved you, when the enforced quietude of the Kamo clan felt suffocating. But with Toji, silence became not a source of fear, but rather a source of comfort and warmth. It was a silent language shared between kindred spirits, a language that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. And in the presence of Toji, perhaps there was never a need for words to describe the depth of your connection—it was simply understood, felt deeply in the quiet spaces between conversations.

In the quiet moments spent together beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient tree, you discovered subtle ways to bridge the gap between you and Toji. Whether it was through shared moments of silence or simple acts of kindness, you sought to connect with him on a deeper level.

One day, as you noticed the frayed edges and worn fabric of his shirts, a determination stirred within you to mend them. Toji initially protested, insisting there was no need for such fuss. But you persisted, your fingers deftly weaving delicate stitches to mend the fabric with care. Despite his reluctance, Toji eventually relented, allowing you to tend to his clothing with quiet determination.

As the days passed and your visits to the Zenin Manor became more frequent, you couldn't help but notice the state of Toji's shirts. The fabric was worn and frayed, with small tears marring the once pristine garments. Each time you saw him, your heart ached at the sight of his tattered clothing, a stark contrast to the polished appearance expected of those belonging to prestigious clans.

Unable to ignore it any longer, you approached Toji one afternoon as he sat beneath the familiar tree, his shirts displaying signs of wear and tear. "Toji," you began, your voice soft but determined. "Your shirts... they're torn. Let me mend them for you."

Toji glanced down at his shirts, his expression unreadable. "It's fine," he replied dismissively, waving a hand as if to brush off your concern. "I can manage."

But you refused to be deterred, your determination unwavering. "Please, Toji," you insisted, reaching out to gently touch the torn fabric. "Let me help. It's the least I can do."

There was a brief moment of hesitation before Toji finally relented, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of gratitude and resignation. "If you insist," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew you would not budge on it. He’d rather take his losses—and his wins.

With a soft smile, you started to question him about all the things that were broken in each article of clothing he owned. You kept asking him one after the other. He was stingy for money, you didn’t ask why. But being a favorite of his cousin, he would have been handsomely paid. You wonder why he hoards old clothing and wears them consistently. But that didn’t matter. Perhaps those lessons with your nanny finally worked out for you. 

For a while, the only sound that filled the air was the quiet rustle of leaves overhead and the soft hum of your needle weaving through the fabric. You both were sat by the tree again — the tree you had both become ever so fond for. It was a peaceful moment, one that allowed both of you to simply exist in each other's presence without the need for words. Having a day out was nice, with the weather being calm and the wind being cool. You had him carry all the things that needed repairing in a basket and marched on to your tree. 

As you worked, you stole glances at Toji, studying the lines of his face and the way his brows furrowed in concentration. There was a vulnerability in his demeanor, a rare glimpse beneath the stoic facade he often presented to the world. You think he was intrigued, seeing someone do something for him, without any expectation nor without any exchange. But you think, a Zenin might think that. It was hard to find anyone with genuine intentions here.

Eventually, you finished mending the last of Toji's shirts, the fabric now restored to its former state. With a sense of satisfaction, you held up the garments for him to see, a small smile playing on your lips. You looked so proud, somehow as though this was your best achievement in life. There were stars practically beaming in your eyes. 

"There," you said softly, a hint of pride in your voice. "All done."

Toji's gaze softened as he examined the repaired shirts, a flicker of appreciation in his eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly, his voice laced with genuine gratitude. "I appreciate it."

You nodded, a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. In that moment, beneath the canopy of leaves, you felt a connection deepen between you, bound not just by the threads of fabric you had sewn together, but by the silent understanding and companionship you shared. By the time you had finished this other shirt, you were due to return home with the rest of the Kamo retinue. You promised to come back and finish them as the days passed. 

That you did. With a small smile, the days continued and you would not say a word. You would gather the necessary supplies and set to work at any new little article of cloth that needed mending. Toji would watch as your nimble fingers carefully stitched one of the torn fabric back together. He would tell you to be mindful not to hurt yourself, to be slow and think about your hands. Each reminder is softer than the next, mellower than before. You could not help but feel your cheeks warm at each reminder. He was such a huge man, one that frightened even those who looked down upon him. Yet he was so gentle, so wonderful. 

As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you were able to offer Toji a small gesture of kindness in return for the quiet companionship he had provided you. You worked hard because you think he deserved to have someone care for him. You stole glances at Toji's stoic expression, noting the subtle shift in his demeanor as he watched you mend his shirts. Though he remained ever so silent, stoic as a statue, you sensed a silent appreciation in his gaze—a recognition of the care and effort you poured into each stitch.

When you presented him with the final fixings, Toji accepted them with a nod of gratitude each and every time, his expression softening ever so slightly. From that day forward, he wore the shirts you had mended with unwavering dedication, despite their outdated appearance or the judgmental gazes of others. 

Toji understood the significance of your efforts, recognizing the depth of your kindness and devotion in each carefully stitched seam. And in his silent acceptance, you found a connection that transcended words—a silent understanding that bound you together in quiet companionship. And that perhaps is all that mattered to you.

In the tranquil embrace of the natural world, enveloped by the gentle symphony of rustling leaves and distant bird calls, you and Toji discovered a sanctuary away from the tumultuous demands of your respective clans. Beneath the canopy of green above, time seemed to stand still, allowing you to savor each precious moment spent in Toji's company.

With each passing day, your bond with Toji deepened, weaving together threads of understanding and mutual respect into the fabric of your relationship. In his presence, the burdens of duty and expectation that once weighed heavily upon your shoulders dissolved, leaving behind a sense of liberation and lightness.

Every shared glance, every soft smile exchanged between you carried with it a silent promise of companionship and support, a reminder that you were not alone in navigating the complexities of your world. You found solace in the simple joy of being together, of basking in the warmth of his presence and the quiet strength that emanated from him.

As you lay side by side beneath the verdant canopy, watching the shifting patterns of light dance across his features, you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment. With Toji by your side, the world felt like a place worth living in, filled with endless possibilities and untold adventures waiting to be discovered.

And as you gazed upon him, his eyes closed in serene contentment, you felt a swell of affection and admiration in your heart. In that fleeting moment, you knew that there was nowhere else you'd rather be than here, with Toji, sharing in the quiet splendor of nature's embrace.

The serene melody of birdsong filled the air, a symphony of nature's chorus that seemed to resonate deep within your soul. Nestled side by side beneath the expansive canopy of the ancient tree, you and Toji found yourselves enveloped in a tranquil oasis, far removed from the bustle and chaos of the world beyond.

The soft blades of grass beneath your backs provided a gentle cushion against the earth, inviting you to surrender to the soothing embrace of nature's embrace. Above, the vast expanse of the sky stretched out like an endless tapestry, its azure hues mingling with the ethereal wisps of cotton-white clouds that drifted lazily across the heavens.

In this idyllic sanctuary, time seemed to stand still, allowing you and Toji to bask in the timeless beauty of the natural world around you. The gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant murmur of a nearby stream, and the distant calls of unseen creatures all combined to create a sense of serenity that washed over you like a gentle tide.

As you lay together beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient tree, the worries and cares of the world melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and contentment. Here, amidst the harmonious symphony of nature, you found solace in each other's company, sharing in the quiet beauty of the world around you.

Lost in the tranquility of the moment, you turned to Toji, a curious glint in your eyes. "Toji, what's your dream?" you asked softly, breaking the peaceful silence that surrounded you.

Toji's brow furrowed slightly at your question, his gaze fixed on the expanse of sky above. "Why do you ask?" he inquired, his voice quiet but thoughtful.

You shrugged, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Just curious, I suppose," you replied. "Everyone has dreams, don't they?"

After a moment of contemplation, The green eyed young man turned his gaze back to you, his expression thoughtful. Slowly, he raised a hand to gesture towards the vast expanse above. As though he was trying to reach for the sky, for the birds that fly ever so freely above the wide blue deep. 

"I suppose... I'd like to feel what freedom actually feels like," he confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. "To live, to breathe, to love without constraints."

With a gaze that conveyed both comprehension and compassion, you regarded Toji, sensing a kindred spirit in his yearning for freedom from the burdens of obligation and societal norms. It was a recognition born from your own experiences, from the weight of expectations placed upon you by your respective clans, and the longing to break free from those constraints.

In Toji's eyes, you saw the echo of your own desires, mirrored in the depths of his gaze. The shared understanding between you transcended mere words, an unspoken bond forged through the silent acknowledgment of each other's struggles and aspirations.

Together, you existed in a realm where the burdens of tradition and duty held no sway, where the pursuit of personal freedom and fulfillment took precedence over the demands of society. It was a sanctuary you had created together, a space where you could share your dreams and aspirations without fear of judgment or reproach.

"And what about you?" Toji asked, his gaze searching for yours. "What's your dream?"

A wide smile spread across your face as you met his gaze. "Funny you should ask," you replied, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Because I think we have the same dream."

Toji's lips quivered upwards in a rare display of warmth, a genuine smile gracing his features. "Is that so?" he remarked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You nodded, your smile widening. "Yes," you affirmed. "And I hope we can make it together."

A softness settled over the two of you, the weight of unspoken hopes and shared aspirations binding you together in silent understanding. "Me too," Toji murmured, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the promise of freedom beckoned on the gentle breeze.

The way he looked at you, it burned you.

And as you smiled, you know he felt it too.

You wonder if it was safe to say those words.

‘Ah, is this what it is? Is this what love feels like?’

HE STILL THINKS ABOUT YOU OFTEN, MORE THAN HE’D LIKE. In the quiet solitude of his drunken reverie, Toji's mind often drifted back to the memories of you, like delicate petals carried on a gentle breeze. It wasn't just nostalgia that drew him back to those moments; it was the profound impact you had made on his life, an indelible mark etched upon his heart.

He remembered the way you would smile at him, your eyes alight with warmth and affection, as you made your way to that sacred tree—the tree that had become a symbol of your shared bond. In your presence, Toji felt a sense of peace and acceptance that he had never known before, a feeling that he longed to hold onto with every fiber of his being.

Your touch was like a balm to his wounded soul, soft and comforting, as though you could heal the scars of his past with just a simple caress. In your embrace, he found solace from the storms raging within him, a refuge from the harsh realities of the world outside.

And when your lips met his, it was as though time itself stood still, suspended in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss. In those stolen moments of passion, Toji felt a connection so profound, so intense, that it transcended the boundaries of time and space.

But as the years slipped by, like grains of sand through an hourglass, Toji found himself haunted by the memories of what could have been, the dreams that had been shattered by the cruel hand of fate. He mourned the loss of the future he had envisioned with you, the life that had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

Yet even in his darkest moments, amid the haze of alcohol and regret, there remained a glimmer of hope—a hope that one day, he might find a way to reclaim the love that had been lost, to build a future with you that defied the constraints of time and circumstance.

And so, with each passing day, Toji carried the weight of his memories like a burden, a constant reminder of the love that had once burned brightly between you, and the promise of a future that still remained within reach, if only he dared to reach out and grasp it.

But despite his yearning for what once was, Toji found himself trapped in a cycle of self-destructive behavior, drowning his sorrows in alcohol and reckless pursuits. He sought solace in the fleeting distractions of the world, hoping to numb the pain that gnawed at his heart like a relentless beast.

Yet amidst the chaos of his existence, there remained a flicker of the man he once was—a man who had loved deeply and dreamed of a future filled with happiness and purpose. It was this spark of humanity that kept him tethered to the memories of you, reminding him of the love he had lost and the person he had once been.

In his darkest moments, when the weight of his regrets threatened to crush him, Toji would close his eyes and summon forth the image of your smile, the warmth of your touch, and the sound of your laughter echoing like a melody in his mind. It was these memories that kept him going, fueling his determination to someday find his way back to you, no matter the cost.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, Toji's hope began to wane, replaced by a bitter resignation to the cruel twists of fate that had torn you apart. He cursed himself for his weakness, for his inability to protect you from the fate that had befallen you, and for the pain he knew you must be enduring without him by your side.

In the quiet depths of his thoughts, Fushiguro Toji often finds himself contemplating the bittersweet truth of your relationship. To him, you were like the sun—bright, radiant, and unattainable. And he? He was but a mere moon, destined to orbit around you, never truly belonging to your world. Yet, despite the inevitable distance that separated you, his love for you burns steadfastly, unwavering in its intensity. 

When he made the decision to depart from the Zenin clan, he understood that it meant leaving behind any chance of ever crossing paths with you again. Still, the memory of you lingers like a haunting melody, weaving its way into the fabric of his existence. Though you may never belong to each other, he carries you in his heart, a cherished remnant of a love that was never meant to be.

Toji's heart shattered into a million pieces when he had to leave you behind. And now you were forced to be engaged to his brother. You cried for help, you did. That’s what everyone said. You called for him and asked someone to look for him. It was a betrayal of the highest order, one that threatened to tear apart everything he had ever hoped for. The thought of you being wed to his older brother, Jinichi, filled him with a rage unlike any he had ever known.

For years, he had harbored dreams of returning to the Zenin clan, of freeing you from the suffocating grasp of your lineage with Naoki's help. Naoki had the ear of all clans. He could make something happen. But now, those dreams lay shattered at his feet, crushed beneath the weight of cruel reality. The mere thought of you being subjected to a marriage of convenience, forced to spend your days with a man who could never appreciate the gentle soul that you were, filled Toji with an overwhelming sense of despair and helplessness.

Driven by a blind fury, he had once entertained thoughts of storming into the Zenin manor, of whisking you away from your fate by force if necessary. You were alone, there was nothing left for you in the Kamo clan. How long can your cousin protect you from what the clans expect of young women like you? He couldn’t take it. He wanted to leave. Storm back there. But Naoki, ever the voice of reason, had intervened, urging Toji to reconsider his reckless actions. He told him to wait, that he had a plan. That it will all work out. 

And so he let himself wait and wait.

Drink after drink, to let his anxiety hurl.

Yet not everything does work out.

No matter how drunk he got at each round;

He would never end up finding you in this life.

Zenin Naoki found his younger cousin Toji in the dimly lit room, his figure slumped over the rough wooden table, an empty bottle of sake clutched tightly in his hand. He could see the anguish etched into Toji's features, the lines of pain and sorrow etched deep into his brow. He was too drunk, Naoki knew. But the moment he would speak those words, he knew that his cousin would be wholeheartedly sober. He didn’t have the heart to say it.  

Naoki’s weary palms sharply echoed into fists. He takes the steps toward his little cousin. Naoki lets one fist unclench and open, grabbing an empty chair for himself and taking to sitting. His lips pursed as he moved closer towards his cousin’s bed. His eyes waver, as though giving away all that he was about to say.

"Toji," Naoki began cautiously, his voice soft but firm. "There's something you need to know."

Toji's bloodshot eyes lifted to meet Naoki's gaze, filled with a mixture of desperation and despair. "What is it?" he asked hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper.

Naoki hesitated, knowing that his words would only add to Toji's suffering. "It's about her," he began, his voice heavy with regret. "Your Kamo flower."

Toji's grip on the bottle tightened, his knuckles turning white with the force of his emotions. "What about her?" he demanded, his voice trembling with barely contained rage.

Naoki took a deep breath, steeling himself for Toji's reaction. "She's... she's married," he confessed, his words hanging heavy in the air like a death knell.

The color drained from Toji's face, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. "Married?" he repeated, his voice barely a whisper. "To who? I thought the engagement would be broken—"

"To your brother, Jinichi," Naoki replied, his heart heavy with guilt. "It was rushed. Father wanted to strengthen the alliance between our clans. The Gojo clan….had gotten strong recently. As soon as I arrived, it was different. They bypassed me. The marriage already took place."

Toji's world shattered in an instant, the pain of betrayal and loss consuming him like a raging inferno. He felt as if the ground had been ripped out from beneath him, leaving him to plummet into an endless abyss of despair.

But deep down, Toji knew the truth of Naoki's words, and it tore him apart like nothing else ever could. He just couldn’t register how no one could let her free. How no one could help her. Genmei, her cousin Kaiko, his cousin Naoki. There were so many people there. How could none of them have been able to do anything?  In that moment, he felt as if he had lost everything—the woman he loved, his dreams of a future together, and the very essence of his being.

"I don't believe you," Toji spat, his voice laced with venom. "She would never agree to such a thing. She loves me, she always has. She would never....."

"Not in her own will." Naoki agreed quietly, leaning back exhaustedly. "But now she has no choice. Once it is done, it is done."

As the reality of his situation sank in, Toji's mind began to unravel, consumed by a maelstrom of rage and despair. He cursed the gods for their cruelty, cursed himself for his weakness, and cursed the world for its injustice. And in that dark, lonely room, Toji wept for the love he had lost, for the dreams that lay shattered at his feet, and for the woman who had stolen his heart and left him to suffer in silence.

‘You can't risk your life like this. Please, Toji,’ Naoki had pleaded, his words echoing with a painful truth that Toji was unwilling to accept. When he cried, when he beat Naoki down, when Naoki didn’t fight back. All he could hear was those words over and over. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Little cousin, I am sorry."

In the end, he saw the wedding photos. That bastard Jinichi had sent them all clans, including the Mikoto — to announce the marriage far and wide. You were miserable beside his brother. Jinichi stood over you, as though he now owned you. As though you were his to tarnish, to harm, to brutalize. Toji’s blood boiled over and over. He screamed over and over. He threw beer bottles over and over. In the end, all Toji had left was his tears, swallowing his own grief over and over. He let himself drown his sorrows in a sea of alcohol and vice. 

He couldn’t stop. The bitterness of his betrayal festered within him, consuming him from the inside out. But not at you. Never at you. At everything, at everyone. Toji was angry, for a long long time. All he could think about was how you suffered all these years. And how he could do nothing. He had absolutely nothing.

Each day was a struggle, each night haunted by visions of you suffering at the hands of a man who could never hope to understand the depths of your gentle spirit. Toji's anger burned like a raging inferno, fueled by the injustice of it all.

But deep down, beneath the layers of resentment and despair, there lingered a flicker of hope—a hope that one day, he might find a way to free you from the shackles of your unwanted marriage, to offer you the tenderness and love that you so rightfully deserved. Until then, he would carry the weight of his failure like a heavy burden, a constant reminder of the cruel twists of fate that had torn you apart.

“You know, I always wanted to have my own family.” You whisper to him out of the blue, the corner of your eyes looking at him. He looks at you with a curious gaze, a grin on his face. 

“Oh? A big family?”

You shake your head. “No, I have enough siblings as it is. One, two at most.”

“Hm, a boy or a girl?”

You smiled at him tenderly, your hand brushing against the edges of his lower head, your fingertips meeting the dark raven hair over and over. “It doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy.”

“Hm, but if you have to choose?”

“A girl would be nice as the eldest.” You tell him softly. “A warm elder sister to welcome her little sibling to the world would be most tender.”

Toji's gaze softened as he listened to your words, a faint smile gracing his lips at the notion of starting a family. "I want that too," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with a rare vulnerability. "A family of my own, someday."

Your heart swelled with warmth at his confession, knowing that you shared this cherished dream. "I've always dreamed of having a family," you confessed, your voice filled with quiet longing.

Curiosity sparkled in Toji's eyes as he turned to you, his hand reaching out to gently intertwined with yours. "If you had a child, what would you name the girl, if you had her?" he asked softly.

Without hesitation, you smiled and replied, "Tsumiki." As you spoke, you traced the characters for each letter onto the palm of his hand, the strokes delicate and deliberate. "It means 'haven of beautiful chronicles'.”

Toji's eyes met yours, his expression reflecting a mix of awe and tenderness. "It's a beautiful name," he murmured, his thumb brushing over the characters etched into his skin. "For a beautiful future."

Toji's words stirred a tender warmth within you, melting your heart away to be his. His vulnerability echoed your own desires, creating a connection that transcended the boundaries of words. As he expressed his longing for a family, you couldn't help but feel a deep resonance within your heart, a shared dream that bound you together on purpose.

Toji's reaction was one of gentle reverence, his thumb brushing over the characters etched into his skin with a touch of awe. As you traced the characters onto his palm, you infused each stroke with the depth of your love and hope for the future.

In his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own dreams, a shared vision of a future filled with love, warmth, and possibility. And as he spoke of the beauty of the name you had chosen, you felt a sense of gratitude wash over you, knowing that in each other's company, the seeds of a beautiful future had already been planted.

“I see the regular life everyone has, though.” Toji whispers to you as he moved closer to you, his arms on your waist. “I see swimming pools, living rooms. Those little airplanes, the toy ones.”

You giggle against him. “The little house on the hills? Just enough for us. Walls with children’s names, their height.”

Toji hummed at you, placing a small kiss upon your head. “Quiet nights with those ice and those booze, when its just.”

“Yeah,” You say to him, meeting his eyes. “I want that.”

“With me?”

You smiled widely, nodding. “Yes, with you.”

As the tender moment lingered, a soft breeze stirred the leaves above, casting dancing shadows over your intertwined figures. The air was charged with an electric anticipation, the warmth of Toji's presence enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

With a gentle lean, Toji closed the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions. It was a moment of pure vulnerability and trust, a silent affirmation of the deep connection that had blossomed between you.

As he pressed his body against yours, you felt the weight of his presence grounding you in the present moment. His touch was both gentle and passionate, igniting a fire within you that burned with the intensity of shared desire and longing.

In that fleeting moment of intimacy, time seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into insignificance as you lost yourself in the warmth of each other's embrace. It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent vow of love and devotion that echoed in the depths of your souls. Over and over again, you smiled against his lips and he smiled back. It was contentment, it was everything.

And as you surrendered to the sweetness of the moment, you knew that in Toji's arms, you had found your sanctuary, your haven of beautiful chronicles, where love knew no bounds and dreams were born anew with each tender caress.

In the end, these memories wilted little by little.

But he couldn’t let his brain forget who you were.

He never allowed himself to let your smile die out.

You were his drug, one that kept him moving forward.

A gun on his head, your smile on his mind, he pauses.

Tears poured over and over, like  it was the first time again.

IT WAS ALL TOO EARLY FOR THIS. Fushiguro Toji, now a widower after losing his wife just a year ago, was caught off guard by the unexpected knock on his door. Opening it, he found Kamo Kaiko standing there in her sorcerer uniform, hand in hand with a little girl who appeared to be about three years old. The girl wasn't very tall, her brown hair tied in a ponytail, her eyes bright amber-brown. She had an innocence about her, like a little doe, yet there was a warmth in her gaze that seemed to suggest a familiarity beyond their meeting.

Despite his initial surprise, Toji couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort at the sight of the smiling girl. There was something about her demeanor that put him at ease, as though she already knew him, as though they shared some unspoken connection.. 

“It’s been a while, Toji.” Kamo Kaiko says to him, a wave of her hand and a charismatic smile. She hadn’t changed. He wonders if that smile of hers will ever be genuine. 

“What are you doing here?” He says roughly, his body resting against the door frame. “Who knows you’re here?”

“No one.” She tells him, her eyes narrowing confidently at him. “You ought to believe me. I’m good at covering my tracks.”

Toji felt exasperated by her words, as much as this early morning has. He rubs his eyes. He opens the door wide. “Come in.”

“Thank you very much~” Kaiko says as she comes in, taking off her shoes. “Mimi, say the same thing!”

The young girl let out a sound, as though she had forgotten. The girl bows politely and smiles at Toji warmly. “Thank you for letting us in!”

“Come, Mimi! Here’s the tiny indoor shoes for you~”

“Thank you, Kaiko-san!”

Toji thinks he should have not opened the door.

Toji's apartment was in disarray, a tangible reflection of the turmoil that had engulfed his life since his wife's passing. Clutter littered the floor, and the air felt heavy with the weight of grief and solitude. However, Kaiko didn't utter a word of reproach or judgment. She knew all too well the challenges of single parenthood, having navigated them herself in the past.

The young girl, full of curiosity and innocence, caught sight of Toji's son nestled in his crib and couldn't contain her excitement. With wide eyes brimming with curiosity, she asked if she could see the baby. Kaiko's smile softened, and she nodded warmly, reminding the little girl to be gentle and careful with the fragile infant. Toji didn’t mind. It was better that someone was looking after Megumi, even for a little while. He’s absolutely exhausted.

As the children played, Kaiko and Toji settled down to talk, the weight of the conversation heavy in the air. Kaiko offered her condolences on his wife's passing, but Toji's impatience cut through the pleasantries like a sharp blade. "Cut to the chase," he demanded, his tone curt and brusque.

Kaiko's expression turned somber as she delivered the heartbreaking news. "I came to tell you... she's gone," she uttered softly, her voice laced with sorrow. "You lost her at childbirth."

Toji's face contorted with a sudden wave of anguish. His mouth went dry as he anticipated the words he dreaded to hear, yet yearned to know for certain. "Who?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You know who," Kaiko replied gently, her gaze unwavering.

"I know," Toji acknowledged, his eyes trembling with emotion as he stared at Kaiko. Despite knowing the answer, he still needed her to say it aloud, as if hearing the confirmation would somehow make the pain more real.

Kaiko's lips tightened as she observed the man before her, grappling with his own torment. She knew that this news would shatter him, just as it had shattered her. With a heavy heart, she spoke your name, the weight of the words hanging in the air like a dense fog.

"It was... a bad situation," Kaiko continued, her voice laced with sorrow. "There were numerous stillbirths and miscarriages. This last one—"

"And none of you stopped him?" Toji's voice cracked with a mixture of anger, anguish, and disbelief. The news of Megumi's mother's death had devastated him, but the thought of you suffering and ultimately losing your life in such a tragic manner ignited a firestorm of emotions within him. His hands slammed down on the table with a force that reverberated throughout the apartment, his eyes narrowed with fury as he confronted Kaiko. "None of you had the courage to intervene? To protect her? You let her die. You let her die at the hands of that monster?"

As Toji's anguished cries filled the air, baby Megumi's response was almost immediate. His tiny wails rose in crescendo, mingling with his father's tumultuous emotions, creating a symphony of sorrow that seemed to echo off the walls of the apartment. Toji's heart clenched at the sound, each cry a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the weight of his loss.

But just as despair threatened to consume him, a figure emerged from the shadows, a ray of hope amidst the darkness. The young girl with doe-like eyes approached with a serene smile, her presence a comforting presence amidst the chaos. With delicate hands, she reached out for baby Megumi, enfolding him in her arms with a tender embrace that seemed to soothe his cries.

"It's okay," she whispered softly, her voice a gentle lullaby that seemed to resonate with the infant's distress. In her arms, Megumi found solace, his sobs gradually subsiding as he nestled against her, finding refuge in her comforting embrace.

Toji's tumultuous emotions seemed to subside, if only for a moment, as he witnessed the touching scene unfolding before him. The sight of the young girl cradling his son and humming a gentle melody cast a tranquil spell over the room, momentarily quelling the storm raging within him. He found himself entranced by her soothing presence, his troubled thoughts momentarily quieted by the tender moment.

As he watched the girl, a flicker of recognition sparked in Toji's eyes, a distant memory stirring within him like a long-forgotten dream. It was as if he could see glimpses of you in her, the way you used to comfort him with your gentle touch and calming voice. His hands trembled with emotion as he turned to face Kaiko, his heart heavy with the weight of grief and regret.

Kaiko met his gaze with a sorrowful expression, her eyes filled with remorse and longing. "I'm sorry, Toji," she murmured softly, her voice laced with emotion. "I couldn't save her from her fate. I couldn't save you from this pain."

Toji's heart tightened at Kaiko's words, the weight of her apology settling heavily upon him. Despite the sorrow in her voice, there was a hint of resolve, a determination to honor a promise made long ago. "But I wanted to keep a promise," she confessed, her gaze drifting towards the young girl who now cradled Megumi in her arms. "At least one more."

Toji's eyes followed Kaiko's gaze, settling on the girl whose presence seemed to bring a measure of solace to the room. A question lingered on his lips as he turned back to Kaiko, his voice barely a whisper. "What's her name?" he inquired softly, his heart heavy with a mixture of curiosity and longing.

A sad smile graced Kaiko's lips as she met Toji's gaze. "Her name is Tsumiki," she revealed gently, her voice tinged with emotion as she spoke the name that carried both sorrow and hope. “Just as she always wanted.”

Toji's heart ached with a mixture of sorrow and gratitude as he gazed at Tsumiki, his tears mingling with Kaiko's. The realization that Tsumiki was the living embodiment of his lost love washed over him like a tidal wave, leaving him feeling both overwhelmed and strangely comforted.

Kaiko's words pierced through the haze of his grief, her voice gentle but firm. "They don't know that she's alive, Tsumiki," she explained, her own tears betraying the depth of her sorrow. "Genmei arranged it all. They wouldn't look for her now."

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, leaving Toji grappling with a torrent of emotions. "Why?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely audible. "Why are you...?"

Kaiko met his gaze with unwavering resolve. "This is what my cousin would have wanted," she replied softly. "You were the only person that truly did love her. Tsumiki would be safer here. She would be loved and..."

Toji's voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on Tsumiki's innocent face as he wiped away his tears. "I didn't notice," he murmured, his words tinged with regret. "How much she looked like her mother."

"Spitting image of her," Kaiko agreed in a bittersweet tone, her gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and fondness.

Toji's fingertips grazed Tsumiki's silky hair, the soft strands a poignant reminder of the gentle touch he had once known. As he watched her tender care for his son, a bittersweet ache tugged at his heartstrings, stirring memories of you and the warmth you had always exuded.

In Tsumiki's innocent gestures, Toji glimpsed echoes of your compassionate spirit, a fleeting reflection of the love and kindness you had bestowed upon him. The sight filled him with a mixture of longing and gratitude, a silent tribute to the precious moments he had shared with you.

Struggling to articulate the depth of his emotions, Toji's voice quivered with unspoken sorrow as he whispered his thanks to Tsumiki. His words hung heavy in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the comfort her presence brought amidst the tumult of his grief.

As Tsumiki cradled his son with unwavering tenderness, Toji felt a flicker of hope stir within his heart. In her gentle embrace, he found solace and strength, a beacon of light illuminating the darkness of his sorrow and reminding him of the enduring power of love.

For the first time in a long time, he felt alive.

He felt alive having known that he has you.

You were always with him, you always loved him.

Years later, Gojo Satoru stood before him, watching.

He could only smile, feeling the chasing sunset.

Two fools would be together again, after all this time.

[blue-sadie]

Intriguing

Tsutey x Human Reader

Summary: tsutey always hated humans but there was only one that intrigued him

Warning: none

3rd person pov

Yn the dedicated scientist, briskly walked through the bustling Pandoran laboratory accompanied by her colleague, norman their mission was to explore new planets and discover potential resources that could benefit both humans and the Na'vi.

Yn had always been intrigued by the wonders of the universe, and this mission was her opportunity to delve into the unknown.

As the twin suns of Pandora began to set, yn found herself engrossed in her work, peering through the binoculars to focus on a distant star cluster.

Unbeknownst to her, Tsu'tey, the fierce Na'vi warrior, watched her from afar. He had secretly admired yn's intelligence, dedication, and her kind heart that radiated through her every action.

Tsu'tey had long been intrigued by the humans and their mysterious ways. Though he often kept his distance from them, something about yn's presence tugged at his heartstrings, evoking a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend.

With each passing day, his curiosity grew, compelling him to study her from a distance, hidden among the lush green foliage of the Pandoran forest.

On this fateful day, yn felt an inexplicable urge to venture further into the dense woods, driven by an almost ethereal calling to discover a specific planet that held potential promise for their mission.

Unbeknownst to her, Tsu'tey, his curiosity piqued, cautiously trailed behind her, silently observing her every step.

Feeling a set of eyes on her, yn didn't allow fear to envelop her. Instead, she embraced the possibility that her enigmatic companion meant no harm.

After a while, she neared the edge of a small cliff, overlooking a breathtaking vista of vibrant flora and cascading waterfalls.

Seizing the opportunity, she called out with a voice filled with compassion, "Tsu'tey, I know you're there. Please, I need your help to find these planets."

Startled by yn's perceptive words, Tsu'tey hesitated for a moment. The connection they shared, though unspoken, grew stronger by the day.

Moved by her trust and willingness to seek his alliance, he slowly emerged from his hidden vantage point.

His piercing golden eyes met her gaze, reflecting a mixture of curiosity, caution, and a strange newfound hope.

Wordlessly, Tsu'tey signaled his willingness to assist, stepping forward as if guided by an invisible bond.

Together, they embarked on a mission that would intertwine their destinies, Na'vi and human united as one.

Guided by yn's extensive knowledge and Tsu'tey's connection to Pandora, they set out on a journey through distant star systems, traversing the cosmos.

Their bond grew with each planet they discovered, sharing scientific expertise and Na'vi customs along the way.

As their quest continued, yn discovered that Tsu'tey's strength and affinity for nature complemented her unwavering determination and analytical mind.

Underneath his imposing exterior, she saw a profound sense of compassion and loyalty, drawing her closer to him with each passing moment.

And Tsu'tey, in turn, admired yn for her unwavering commitment to scientific progress and her willingness to embrace the unknown alongside the Na'vi.

Together, their shared journey through the stars could not only reshape their understandings of science and culture but also intertwine their hearts in a cosmic love story that bridged worlds.

In their unity, they found strength, purpose, and a love that defied the boundaries of time and space.

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@sweetirilly

[autumnslance]

A Tale of Two Sisters

From early in ARR, the WoL has run into members of the intrepid Ironheart family, beginning with Millith in Gridania and appearing early in each expansion since. The family follows in their famous ancestor's footsteps and explores the world, kindly marking items of interest in the WoL's own sightseeing log.

And it's no different in Tural, as we first meet Elsebee Ironheart, who gives us sightseeing records for Yok Tural. It seems we have to seek out her twin sister, Emeline Ironheart, for sights of Xak Tural with which to fill our log book.

But even the familiar sightseeing log entries get their own twist in Dawntrail...

Elsebee Ironheart: A fellow Eorzean, am I right? Do you fancy yourself much of a sightseer? Elsebee Ironheart :Dear old Millith gave you her journal? My, what a small world. It just so happens that I'm her cousin! Elsebee Ironheart at your service. Elsebee Ironheart: Well, if you've met Cousin Millith, I'm sure you can guess why I “crossed the salt,” as they say. This continent is positively brimming with sights unseen by Eorzean eyes, and I'm here to discover them all! Elsebee Ironheart: My twin sister and I, that is. You see, I had more interest in Yok, while she was drawn to the vistas of Xak. So it was that we parted ways at the bridge, each of us touring half of Tural. Elsebee Ironheart: …So give me your sightseeing log, then! Elsebee Ironheart: Let's see, let's see… Oh, how beautiful! I should like to see these places myself someday. Ahem, er, sorry, I was going to just scribble down… Elsebee Ironheart: …my notes on Yok Tural! I included what my sister shared with me of Xak Tural, but I'm afraid it isn't much. Elsebee Ironheart: My twin's name is Emeline and she's still wandering about over there. Given your natural affinity for Ironhearts, you'll doubtless run into her someday. Elsebee Ironheart: Well, I'm sure you've got places to be and vistas to behold. May your journey throughout Tural be bright and unforgettable!

When first doing this on Dark Autumn, I really didn't think much of it; business as usual, right? Noted the comments about the sister, and as the log only went to zone 4, well, guess we'd deal with that when we found her twin.

And honestly, with so much else happening in the MSQ and all the sidequests, the Ironheart sisters fell out of mind...until I reached Solution 9 and saw, upon arrival, a single blue-marked sidequest available immediately...

Emeline Ironheart: That tome…that wouldn't happen to be a sightseeing log, would it? Emeline Ironheart: Millith! Now that's a name I haven't heard in a good long time. And dearest Elsebee… Emeline Ironheart: She's my twin sister, you see, and I haven't seen her for thirty long years. Not since I was trapped during my exploration of Yyasulani. Emeline Ironheart: It brings me great joy to know she is well. Pardon me for asking, but…might I see the notes she added to your log? Emeline Ironheart: She always did make such bold strokes of her lettering… Here. Emeline Ironheart: I've added my own notes. Some of the information may seem improbable at best, but I believe there is truth in every entry. Emeline Ironheart: Were I younger, I would set out in search of these fantastic sights myself, but alas, my body can no longer endure such travels. Emeline Ironheart: Though thanks to you, I feel lighter than I have in an age. If there is one thing I should wish, it is to see my sister again before I die. There is so much I would share with her… Emeline Ironheart: But you have better things to attend to than an old woman's musings. Take care, kind adventurer. And may your journey lead you to vistas both bright and unforgettable. Emeline Ironheart: Whenever I lay eyes on a traveler like yourself, I think back to the days I roamed the land as a young lass. Such fond memories…

When I first reached this quest, it took me out at the knees. They're not the only set of twins we meet in this expac, but they are the only ones separated by the time shift of the dome.

Returning to Tuliyollal, you can speak to Elsebee again:

Elsebee Ironheart: What? My poor sister's trapped inside that strange dome!? Elsebee Ironheart: Thank you─this is precisely the lead I've been searching for. Now I just need to find a way inside!

It's not clear whether WoL lets her know that her beloved twin is now as old, or maybe even older, than their parents may be...

I do somewhat hope we get more about this, as post-MSQ Elsebee has no new lines, and Emeline only says:

Emeline Ironheart: I gather that the world outside is now accessible─though leaving Everkeep may be a feat too far for these weary old bones. I just pray that my twin sister is hale and healthy…

Usually the Ironhearts don't get their own stories; they're there to facilitate the sightseeing log and that's it. But in this case, Dawntrail's story creates a heartbreaking scenario for this famous family, separating two of its closest members not with distance, but time.

[astrojulia]

Psychic Abilities through Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto

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If you read this post you must have seen the blatant presence of the outer planets (Uranus, Neptune and Pluto) and this is why they are mainly responsible for the blessings of psychic powers. The celestial bodies Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto hold mysterious and profound influences on human consciousness, often granting individuals psychic abilities beyond the realm of the material world. To comprehend this phenomenon better, let's delve deeper into the unique qualities and gifts each planet bestows upon those connected to them.

Uranus - The Visionary Wanderer:

Uranus challenges conventional realities, transcending the limitations of the physical body. For those closely attuned to Uranus, the material world becomes a mere vessel for the soul's journey. They possess the remarkable ability of astral travel, where their spirits roam unrestricted by earthly constraints. In their daily lives, they might experience shifts of reality, glimpsing alternate dimensions and parallel universes. Their open minds embrace multiple possibilities, for they understand that existence encompasses a vast tapestry of realities.

Neptune - The Oceanic Empath:

Neptune's essence lies in the depths of the vast oceans, disconnected from the earthly domain. Those deeply connected to Neptune find solace and belonging in the realm of emotions and intuition. Just as life under the sea follows different rules, these individuals perceive the world through heightened senses, akin to breathing water rather than air. Their empathic abilities allow them to perceive the emotions and energies of others, transcending language and logic to tune into the universal language of the heart.

Pluto - The Keeper of Souls:

Pluto's realm is that of death and transformation, bridging the gap between the living and the deceased. Those with a strong affinity for Pluto possess the unique gift of connecting with the spirit world. They can see beyond the veil of mortality, perceiving the memories of their own soul and the collective history of the world. In their presence, the boundaries of time and space blur, and they walk hand-in-hand with the past, present, and future.

The Zodiac Trio: Aquarius, Pisces, and Scorpio:

Among the zodiac signs, Aquarius, Pisces, and Scorpio are intrinsically bound to Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto, respectively. These individuals are the cosmic children of the outer planets, and their connection to them is profound. Some of these individuals are fortunate to receive direct psychic gifts from their celestial patrons, while others may struggle to harness the full extent of their powers. The level of connection to the outer worlds varies among individuals. Some might effortlessly embrace the psychic realms, while others may find it challenging to detach from the influences of the old planetary rulers like Saturn, Jupiter, and Mars.

So, the psychic abilities granted by Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto are a reflection of their celestial essence. Those who resonate with these planets ,which are usually those who have these planets as dominant, traverse the boundaries of human perception, delving into the mysteries of the universe. It is a delicate dance between the material and ethereal, where the fortunate ones find themselves equipped with profound psychic gifts.

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