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strang3lov3 · 1 year

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Soft Dom!Joel x Fem Reader

Summary: Joel stumbles upon your dirty mag, noticing your favorite pages bear a striking resemblance to himself! Takes place in Jackson sometime after TLOU

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT!!! This is not fluffy even a little bit, kind of pervy joel, kind of sleazy too, smut, female masturbation, cunnilingus, soft dom!joel, shy reader, consensual PIV sex, humiliation kinda, joel loves a full bush, begging, joel is dominant but not like, aggressive?? let me know if I missed any

A/N: Y’all, I am very very very proud of this one! Please enjoy this depravity. And have a lovely holiday weekend <3 I am just a few shy of 1k followers, but consider this my thank you for all of your support 😸💗

Edit: we’re at 1k!!! Thank you so much holy shit!!

If you really like this story, please leave me a comment! Check out my masterlist

Javier Peña is Joel’s pornstar doppelgänger. I don’t make the rules.

After a long day, Joel was ready to relax and enjoy a bonfire with you. It’s how you spent a lot of summer nights in Jackson, you and Joel and sometimes Ellie just sitting around the fire, sharing stories and shooting the shit.

Tonight Ellie was at Dina’s having a sleepover, leaving just you and Joel together. It was nice to spend nights alone with Joel. Sometimes you’d talk about anything and everything and other nights you’d just share a comfortable silence. After everything you went through on your way to Jackson, it was nice to enjoy some peaceful nights with Joel.

Upstairs, Joel changed into some plaid pajama pants and a slim fitting t-shirt and made his way through the hall and to the top of the staircase, his heavy footsteps alerting you of his presence.

“Joel?” you shouted to him from the kitchen. You were preparing a snack in preparation for the bonfire. “Can you grab me a hair tie please?”

You were peeling apples and slicing bread to make pudgy pies for you and Joel to share. It’s one of the campfire snacks he introduced to you and Ellie. Back before the outbreak, he said, people would use canned pie filling or peanut butter and Nutella as filling for the toasted sandwiches. Now you had to get more creative, so you opted for spiced and sugared apple slices. You preferred berries, but apples were Joel’s favorite filling for dessert. You didn’t mind. He used to make these for his daughter.

“Where can I find one?” he called back.

“On my bedside table, right by the lamp,” you stepped closer to the staircase so you didn’t have to raise your voice as much. “It should just be a plain black one.”

Joel nodded and walked to your room. At your bedside table, he didn’t see any hair ties. Just some jewelry and a comic book Ellie lent you that she wanted you to read. Perhaps it was in the drawer?

Joel opened the drawer and rummaged around your belongings. There was a bottle of your favorite almond scented lotion from the local soap maker, your journal and some pencils, but no hair tie. He should have called out to you to ask if there was another spot your hair tie might be at, but curiosity got the better of him. He knew it was wrong to snoop through your personal belongings, but he couldn’t help himself.

Joel pulled the drawer out a little further and lifted your journal up. His eyes widened at what he saw. It wasn’t your hair tie, that was for damn sure.

Under your journal was an ancient porno magazine, probably from the 70s or 80s. Joel didn’t bother checking for a date. He had to know what the hell was in this old ass magazine that you were using to get yourself off. He remembered these kinds of magazines from when he was a teenager. They were often tacky and somewhat over the top compared to the explicit videos he’d watched on the internet before the outbreak, but they did the job. Who was he to judge?

Joel sat on your bed and flipped through the pages of the magazine. There were women in frilly chiffon lingerie with bushy and unkempt pussies, just the way he liked them. That was one nice thing about the outbreak, a lot of women ditched the beauty standards of the 90s and 2000s and went au naturale. Joel loved it as a young man then and he still loves it now, decades later.

The magazine nearly flipped itself open to one particular centerfold. It was a man fucking a woman from behind, her back arched and hair covering her face. They were at the edge of the bed, her fingers gripping the retro floral duvet cover. She was beautiful, but it wasn’t her who captured Joel’s attention. It was the man.

He was tall, dark, and handsome with a thick downturned mustache, not unlike Joel’s. He had dark hair and dark eyes as well. Even his nose was similar to Joels, strong and sharp with a curve. Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. The pages were worn and the corners were dog eared, leading Joel to believe that these must be your favorite pages. His ego soared, as if it needed to be any bigger. He always had a feeling that you had a thing for him.

Downstairs, you were growing irritated. “What is taking so long?” you muttered to yourself. Joel was taking forever to find the hair tie you had so neatly placed next to the lamp on your bedside table. After turning off the burner of the stove, you paced through the kitchen and up the stairs.

“You are such a man, you know? You guys are terrible at looking for things. If it was a snake it would have bit you,” you grumbled out, half talking to yourself and half talking to Joel. You opened your mouth to continue speaking as you walked into your room but froze when you saw Joel on the bed, thumbing through the pages of your dirty secret.

“I found your spank bank,” Joel taunted with sarcasm, not yet looking at you. He flipped through a couple more pages before turning to face you, his intense stare meeting your flustered expression.

You were frozen in embarrassment, completely unable to speak, unable to move. Your face felt like it was on fire and you could hear your heart pound in your ears.

Joel’s low and gravelly voice filled the silence. “Didn’t mean to embarrass ya, baby. It’s okay. Human nature,” he winked at you with a crooked smile.

You quickly stepped over to him and tried tugging the magazine out of his hands, but he held on tightly. “Joel,” you pleaded as your sweaty fingers slipped off of the paper.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided you. “This dude here kinda looks familiar, doesn’t he?” Joel looked at you with a knowing expression as humiliation filled your chest. Yeah, he looks just fucking like you. Leave me alone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Joel,” you muttered angrily. You were about to burst into flames, whether from embarrassment or anger you didn’t know. You didn’t care. How dare your body put your shame and embarrassment on display? You were giving Joel exactly the kind of sick satisfaction he absolutely did not deserve.

“Oh, baby. I think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Look at how you’ve dog-eared these pages,” he used his pointer finger to trace the bent triangles at the corners of the pages. “Guy looks just like me, doesn’t he? Is that what you like so much about these pages?” his southern drawl had your stomach doing flips. “I know they’re your favorite, magazine practically opened right up to them.”

You ignored his question. “The pages were like that when I found the magazine,” you tried lying, but it was a futile attempt. This was bullshit. Joel was the one who was caught red handed, and yet you were bearing the brunt of the humiliating situation. Only Joel Miller could spin this situation to work out in his favor.

“Sure, sweetheart,” you reached for the magazine again, but Joel pulled it out of your reach. “You know baby, you didn’t have to fantasize with a dirty old magazine if you wanted to fuck me. All you had to do was ask.”

You said nothing, just glared at him. Joel wore a loathsome smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Wish I knew this is what you were usin’ to get yourself off at night. All those pretty noises, all this time. They were all for me, weren’t they?”

Any words you could think of got caught in your throat, it felt like dry swallowing a pill. You just looked at Joel with pleading eyes, begging him to stop making you feel like a fool. If you weren’t so embarrassed, you’d be yelling at him for rifling through your private belongings and calling him presumptuous asshole for insinuating you fantasized about him. Of course, he was entirely correct in his assumption. You were completely and utterly infatuated with him. Even when you weren’t using his doppelgänger to get yourself off, you were thinking of him all day long.

“Please,” you finally choked out, feeling tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t take any more of this torture. “Just stop.”

“Oh, sweet girl,” he spoke with a soothing tone. Joel placed a hand on your thigh and twiddled his fingers along the fabric of your pajamas. “You know I’m just gonna keep buggin’ you until you tell me what I want to hear.” Joel looked at you with his sparkling brown eyes, darkened with lust. “So what do you like about these pages, baby?”

Turning your face towards your lap, you whispered your response to his prodding question. “I like the way he’s fucking her,” If that’s all it’d take to make him stop, might as well spill your guts.

“Yeah, I do too. It’s sexy, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, glancing at the familiar image. Joel was 100% right. Those were certainly your favorite pages. You didn’t even need them anymore, the picture was tattooed on your brain. “I like how the man looks.” you admitted with bravery.

“I bet you do. Because he looks like me, right?”

You nodded your head shyly. You couldn’t believe yourself, giving up and letting Joel win. He’d never let you live this down. But maybe if you butter him up a little he’ll let you off easier. “You’re more handsome, though,”

“Oh, baby. Gonna make me blush,” Joel replied to you with a saccharine smile. He really did seem genuinely flattered by your comment. “This is really what you look at when you’re playing with your pussy?”

“Yeah, kind of,” you say, feeling some confidence fill your chest. “I pretend it’s you fucking me like that.”

“Is that right?”

“Mhm,”

“You’re such a good girl for me, baby. I like knowin’ you think of me like that,” he praises you for finally letting go of your embarrassment. He doesn’t only want to tease you. If this is what you fantasized about, he was gonna make your dreams come true.

Joel takes one of your hands in his own and moves it to your center, pressing your fingers against your core. You gasp at the feeling of your wetness on your pajama pants. “Think you can do somethin’ for me?”

“What?” you murmur.

“I want you to give me a show, baby. Show me how you touch yourself when you’re lookin’ at that magazine,” Apprehension fills your bones once again at his words. “Don’t be nervous, sweetheart. I just wanna see how pretty you look when you come. And after you do that, I’ll fuck you just like how he’s doin’. What do you say?”

“Just like, touch myself?” you laugh awkwardly at his request. This cannot be happening. Right?

Joel sets the magazine down and helps you to the top of the bed. He leans you against the pillows and kisses your lips for a second, and every time his tongue mingles with your own your anxiety melts away, little by little. This is all so surprising, maybe he does really want to make you feel good.

He kisses you gently and with care, using his lips to encourage you to let go again. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, your neck, and down your body before lifting up your pants and looking at you expectedly, asking permission to remove your clothing. You nod and he helps you out of your pajamas. It’s all so sudden and you feel exposed, all naked and laid out for Joel.

“You’re beautiful,” Joel says earnestly as he takes one of your wrists and guides your hand to your needy pussy, encouraging you to show him what you look like when you’re whimpering at the thought of him in the middle of the night. You don’t touch yourself yet, though. You cover your center with your hand, slightly embarrassed by the thick tuft of hair surrounding your vulva.

“I haven’t shaved in forever,” you say sheepishly. It’s kind of silly, worrying about body hair at the end of the world. But you can’t help it.

“That’s alright, sweetheart” Joel says as he reaches for the magazine and flips to one of the first pages he saw, a woman spread eagle with her full bush on display. She’s smiling and radiates confidence. “See? It’s a beautiful thing. It’s how they’re meant to be.”

You’re skeptical. “Do you really think so?”

“Of course I do. I love your pussy, it’s beautiful just how it is,” Joel grips your thighs and parts your legs, and your fingers gently drop to touch your dripping center. Joel reaches forward and places his hand over yours, helping you circle your clit with your middle finger. It’s slow at first and you squeeze your eyes shut, still feeling slightly awkward. Masturbating for someone else to watch is completely different from sex. You feel vulnerable, like you’re being studied under a microscope. You don’t feel that way for long, though.

Joel continues to help you circle your clit until he senses you becoming more confident, then removes his hand to watch you do your thing. Your fingers swirl around your hole as you gather your slick, then travel up again to rub your clit in those same circles he helped you create. You let out little gasps and whimpers, and it’s music to Joel’s ears. Finally, he has an image to match with the moans and other noises he hears from your room.

Usually you can get yourself off fairly quickly but with Joel in front of you, it takes a little longer. You open your eyes and peek at him. His dark and hungry eyes are focused on your center, but they flick up to your own. He smirks devilishly at you for a half second then goes back to watching your actions, almost obsessively. He is obsessed.

The sight of him pushes you closer to the edge, and he watches your pussy twitch as you finger your clit even faster. His expression changes then. He’s no longer looking at you with adoration and lust. Joel looks angry and jealous, with a furrowed brow and a scowling frown. You tilt your head slightly in confusion but before you can think Joel lunges forward and rips your hand away from your cunt, pinning it next to your torso.

“Let me taste you?” he whispers. You nod hurriedly in response. Lick me, touch me, do anything.

He presses a kiss to your clit and you gasp in surprise. “This is my pussy now,” he growls. Now that he knows what you look like touching yourself for him, he can’t just sit there and watch you anymore. Joel’s desperate, he needs to make you come. “From now on, you’re only gonna come when I say so. Do you understand?”

You mumble incoherently and Joel swats your thigh, not satisfied with your answer. “Do you understand?” he repeats, his voice dark and serious.

“Yes, Joel,”

“Good girl. You just relax now, let me take care of you,” he instructs you. Your head falls to the pillow, and you let out a soft exhale as Joel wraps his strong arms around your thighs and pulls your pussy to his face. Joel inhales your scent deeply, enjoying your aroma.

He licks a long stripe from your slick hole all the way to your clit, flattening his tongue against you. He licks every inch of you, memorizing your folds with his deft tongue. When he’s satisfied with the way he’s worked you up, he focuses on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before inserting two fingers inside of you.

“Joel,” you gasp out, hands reaching for his salt and pepper curls. Your thighs clamp around his head and he removes his hands from your body to spread them out again.

“You stay open for me now,” he commands. He plunges his fingers back inside you and curls them upward, hitting that spot that makes your knees weak and your eyes see stars. You moan loudly when Joel’s lips attach to your clit once more, this time gently sucking on the sensitive bud. He’s drunk on your taste, completely addicted to your flavor. His tongue continues dancing on your center and you pull him close to you, rutting your hips into his face. Every once in awhile you swipe his nose and he uses the opportunity to dip and twirl his tongue inside of you.

This is the best way to eat pussy, Joel’s learned. Find out what makes her tick and keep doing that, let her grind on his lips and nose. Right now, your wish is his command.

You reach down and grab his not working arm to bring it towards your breasts. Joel picks up what you’re putting down immediately and trails his hand over your breasts, pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. That’s all it takes to have you coming in his mouth.

You cry out his name as you buck your hips into him, fighting the urge to push him away when the feeling becomes too intense.

Joel doesn’t allow you to catch your breath. He flips you on your tummy and drags you down the bed, his fingernails pressing into your skin. “You did so good for me, baby. You gonna let me fuck you now? Just like you pretend, right?” He pulls his shirt over his head and steps out of his pajama pants behind you.

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whine.

“I like hearin’ that. Keep beggin’ for me,” Joel demands as nudges your thighs apart with his knee. He teases your slit with the tip of his cock, painting his precum on your skin. He pushes the tip inside, not yet dipping all the way inside you.

“I need you,” you sob with desperation.

“Need me to what?” He knows what you need, but Joel’s gonna make you spell it out to him.

You let out a groan of frustration and back your ass into his hips. Joel chuckles at your annoyance. “Come on now. Tell me what I want to hear,” he repeats his words from earlier. “Put that pretty mouth to use.”

“I need you to fuck me,”

“There you go. Was that so hard?”

Joel wraps his hands around your hips, his fingers digging into your lower stomach and his thumbs pressed firmly into your lower back and slams his hips into you. His fingernails leave dents in your skin.

You yelp at the sudden contact, not expecting him to go so hard and fast. His thick cock stretches you out and you can feel the tip hitting you deep inside.

“Always knew this pussy would feel good,” he mumbled behind you, beginning his firm pace.

You arch your back into him, using your body to tell him what you need. You love the way he feels, so strong and holding you so tight. It really is a fantasy come to life. “Don’t stop, please,” you cry for him.

“Mmmm,” he hums. “You love this cock, don’t you?”

“Yes, Joel,”

“That’s right. It’s all for you, baby,” he continues pounding into you.

Joel stops for a second and flips you over on your back. He apologizes, “Sorry, sweetheart. I know I said I’d fuck you like them in the magazine but fuck, I gotta see you,” he says. “Can’t let you hide those tits from me anymore.”

Joel pulls your legs up and places them over his shoulders, opening you up even deeper for him. He lets out a moan at the change in position.

He admires the way you look, all of it just for him. Your half lidded eyes, mouth open and spilling out moans and obscenities with every snap of his hips. You’re completely fucked out.

You reach down to thumb your clit and he smacks your hand away. “What’d I say earlier? You come when I say. I didn’t say, did I?” he scolded you.

“N-no,” you stutter out.

Joel takes your wrists into his hand and pins them above your head. “Can’t trust you, sweetheart. Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me,” He snakes his other hand between your thighs and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb ever so lightly. Torturing you with what could be and never giving you more.

The wet squelching noises of your pussy and the slapping sound of skin hitting skin have your head spinning. Joel fucks you at a merciless pace, frenzied and desperate. He’s savoring the way you’re squirming under him, straining your wrists against his locked grip. He knows it’s agonizing, almost painful the way you’re aching for release. But he’s determined to teach you a lesson.

“Please,” you choke out. “Just make me come,”

“I don’t know that you deserve it, baby, Touchin’ yourself to that picture of my lookalike? That’s awful selfish of you,” he chided you. “Depriving me of this?”

“Joel,” you whined. You’d do whatever it took to get some release.

“Tell me how long you were needing me,” Joel panted. “Weeks? Months?”

“I don’t know. Forever,” you admitted. “I need to come now, please.”

“Forever? I wish you said somethin’ earlier, baby. You wouldn’t be in this mess,”

You didn’t know how much more you could take. Tears of frustration were streaming down your cheeks, each of his thrusts hitting deep and massaging your insides. You were right there, you just needed permission to let go.

Joel was right there with you, also struggling to hold on. He wanted nothing more than to keep fucking you without allowing you to finish, but he’d never seen something so erotic and sexy. Your body, tangled in his own, your twitching thighs and furrowed brow. And he was responsible for all of it, responsible for turning into this wreck.

“You’re takin’ me so good, sweet girl. Beggin’ and askin’ me so nice,” he whispered. “You do one last thing for me, and I’ll let you come.”

“Anything,” you gasp. Now his wish is your command.

“You focus right here. Look at me, and don’t close your eyes. Keep makin’ those pretty noises for me, just like you always do,” You’re not even consciously trying to follow his orders, you just do. You can’t break your stare from his dark and hungry gaze, his lip curled in a nefarious smirk. Breathy moans and high pitched squeals escape your mouth.

“Always knew you’d be my good girl. Alright now. Let go for me,”

That’s all you needed to reach your peak. The warm, coiling feeling in the pit of your stomach erupts, shooting electricity through your veins. Your vision goes blurry and you hear staticky ringing as you cry out for Joel. It’s all you can feel as wave after wave of pleasure rocks your body.

Joel’s thrusts are sloppy now as he chases his own orgasm. Your fluttering walls and the way you whisper his name like a prayer are all he needed to reach his peak. His hips are stuttering and his muscles jerk and tremble as he pulses inside you, painting your insides with his seed. Joel hovers above you, placing wet kisses and tonguing your salty skin. He’s addicted to the way you taste.

It only hits you now how surreal this entire evening is. Joel’s above you, collecting himself and catching his breath and you’re still pinned beneath him. Of course, you imagined fucking him many times prior to this but it was never this way. You couldn’t complain, though.

Joel interrupts your thoughts with a kiss, sweet and gentle and loving. A stark contrast to the way he fucked your body just moments before. “So apple pudgy pies, right?”

You giggle. Joel is such a typical man, wanting a snack right after sex. At least he’s not already passed out on top of you, the way other men often do. “Yes Joel, just like you asked for,”

Joel backs away from you then with a cute little fist pump, as if he’s winning a prize. “Fuck yeah,” he whispers, walking to the bathroom completely nude. He’s got such a nice and plump ass, you notice.

He comes back and wipes you off with affectionate care, being extra conscious not to irritate your sensitive skin after the rigorous fucking. He helps you into your pajamas then and kisses you on the top of the head. “I’m gonna get the fire goin’, meet me out there?”

“Sure, Joel,” you respond with a smile. “I have to finish up with the apples first, though.”

“Take your time. I’ll be out there,”

You sit up and kiss Joel one last time, the way his lips slide against yours gives you butterflies. It’s a little late to feel that way after what you just did. You go to the bathroom then go downstairs and finish prepping the apples, stirring them over the stove. Once they’re finished, you prepare the sandwiches and make your way outside to sit next to Joel.

The warm glow of the fire illuminates his skin and he looks so handsome, his features look so defined by the light and shadows. He helps you put the sandwiches in the pie irons and then places them on the grill above the fire, careful to make sure they’re not getting too much heat too quickly.

The fire begins to shrink, flames not reaching quite as high as the sandwiches need. You turn your head around you looking for some more firewood, but the sound of ripping paper interrupts your search.

It’s Joel, tearing out pages of a magazine. Your magazine, from before. You look at him with confusion.

“I told you, sweetheart. You won’t be needin’ this anymore. You come to me,” he explains with a low voice, flipping the cast iron pans. “I took good care of you, right?”

You smile shyly. “You did,”

“And I intend to keep takin’ care of your needs,” he promises.

You nod wordlessly, still smiling. A few more moments pass before Joel removes the irons from the fire and removes your pies to cool off, then slices them in half. They’re golden brown and the spicy, sweet, warm smell is sinfully delicious. The gooey apples spill from the bread slightly. Your tummy grumbles at the sight.

The dessert has cooled enough, you decide. Taking a half of one of the sandwiches in your hand, you bring it to your mouth and take a small bite, the cooked apples are like lava in your mouth. You hiss at the burn on your tongue and lips.

Joel looks at you with disapproving concern. “Tsk,” he mumbles with displeasure. “You’re terribly impatient, aren’t you?” his tone from the bedroom is back. Reaching forward to take your chin between your fingers, he swipes his thumb along your bottom lip, collecting some of the apple filling. Your eyes widen, you’re startled by his touch.

“I’ll fix you, though. Teach you some self control,” he sucks his digit into his mouth and pulls it out with a pop, humming at the sweet flavor. “Lord knows you need it.”

All you can think about is sucking his cock the same way he sucked his thumb. You wonder how the soft skin of his dick would feel on your tongue. How he would taste, how he’d look as you take him deep down your throat.

God, how you need it.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #strang3lov3

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wildemaven · 6 months

Text

caught kissing santa | dave york

-> pairing: dave york x f!reader

-> word count: 1586

-> content warnings: 18+ blog; established relationship/reader is married to Dave and stepmom to his kids, mentions of food and drinks, non-religious Christmas celebrations and Santa beliefs, alluding to sexy time but no smut, kissing, mentions reader is wearing pajama pants, fluff, soft Dave, one use of ‘good girl’.

-> note: this literally came to me this morning and i whipped it up during nap time. Not beta’d, so all mistakes and misspelling are my own fault!! -> masterlist / holi-dave masterlist

“So let me get this straight. You saw Santa last night. In the flesh. Just standing in our living room?”

You hear Dave ask Alice to retell her story again from where you’re standing at the kitchen counter, pouring steamed milk into your coffee. Except this time, he encourages her to tell it at a slower pace so you both could catch every word of it.

“Yeah!! I was thirsty and wanted to get some water. So I got up to go downstairs, but when I got to the stairs I could see him in the living room.” Alice says, sitting across from Dave at the kitchen table where there’s a huge breakfast of pancakes, waffles and all the sweet toppings laid out. Her excitement is infectious. Her innocence is still palpable and going strong, as she states she saw Santa with her own eyes.

“And what was he doing?” Dave encourages Alice to share more as he spoons several helpings of mini chocolate chips onto his stack of pancakes with a hearty serving of peanut butter melting over the top.

“Putting our presents under the tree.” Her words were muffled by a mouth full of sliced strawberries.

“Hmm. I guess that makes sense. Where were you Molly, when all this excitement was going down?” Dave looks over to the youngest of his two girls, who’s been enjoying her own helping of pancakes with a mixture of berries and chocolate chips piled on top.

“Sleeping.” You snicker into your cup at Molly’s blunt response. Her mild temperament was proof enough that the apple doesn’t fall far from the Dave York tree.

You turn and lean against the kitchen counter, so you can watch the rest of their conversation unfold.

It took some convincing to get Dave to go along with your idea of dressing up as the Jolly Man in Red this year. Knowing that Alice gets up every night to get herself a glass of water, it was the perfect set up for her to happen upon. Thankfully Dave folds easy to your convincing pleas and a good make out session on the couch late into the night seals the deal.

Alice had come to you a few weeks ago about the matter. Asking about the validity of whether or not Santa was real. She had heard her friends talking about how they were getting too old to believe in such a silly thing and how it was their parents all along. You could sense the turmoil of her wanting to still believe in the idea of Santa, but also wanting to feel a part of her friend group who seem to be eagerly growing into their not quite pre-teen selves.

As her stepmom, you didn’t feel like it was your place to have such a turning point conversation with her. Wanting to leave that for Dave and Carol to broach the topic with her if it were to come up again, supporting whatever their approach would be. You told Alice that Santa is real and he makes sure to bring a little holiday magic each year to everyone, no matter how old they are. Your answer seemed to satisfy her inquisitive mind and gave you an idea to give her a little extra Christmas gift in case this would be her last year believing in Saint Nick.

“What was Santa doing?” Dave sits back into the chair to take in the rest of what Alice had to say. His arms crossed over his broad chest. Your attention is briefly drawn to the way his gray nightshirt pulls tight over his shoulders and back, then quickly refocusing back to Dave and the girls.

“Putting all the presents under the tree. He had a big bag of them, too.” Her arms stretched out to give him an idea of how big the bag was.

You smile at the way Dave is giving her his full attention. Never letting on that he was the one wearing the suit late into the night as he placed each present under the tree in the living room, while you watched him from where you sat under a blanket on the couch. Snapping a few photos of him as he really got into character with each gift. Pausing every so often, his hands on his waist, complaining how miserable and hot it would be to actually be Santa in the thick red suit and beard for an entire evening. He even warned that your gifts would be lost if you continued to laugh at his misery.

Pushing off the counter, you join the three of them at the table. Settling into the open chair next to Dave, as you continue to sip from the warm coffee in your mug.

“So did you say anything to him? Ask him if he brought you anything special this year?” You ask Alice.

“No! I was worried I would scare him away and that he’d take our presents with him.” Her eyes widened as shakes her head no. It warms your heart hearing her response to this whole situation, the exact reaction you were hoping for.

“Oh! I didn’t even think of that. We wouldn’t want him to take everything away that he brought for us.” You say looking over to Dave who’s smiling into his own cup of coffee.

“He also seemed a little busy once he was done putting all the presents out. So I just went back to bed. Wanted to be surprised when I woke up this morning.” You’re confused by what she means when she said he was busy.

“Busy? How so?” You ask before taking another drink.

“Well—“ She pauses and looks at Dave, as if to search for the right words before continuing, then back to you. “I saw something else before I went back to bed.”

“What would that be?” Dave’s gaze shifts over to you momentarily when he inquires about what exactly Alice saw. Clearing his throat as he adjusts his position in the wooden chair and grabbing for his mug to keep his hands busy, his grip on it tightened and his knee bouncing at a steady pace. His fidgety movements are a telltale sign that he’s anxious— valid, given the way Alice has you all hanging by her every word at the moment.

“I saw you kissing Santa under the mistletoe that’s hanging over the fireplace.” Alice looks you straight in the face when she says it.

Dave nearly spits out the sip of coffee he had just taken. Coughing into his napkin as silence takes over the entire room. Molly halts her pancake devouring to stare at you with a shocked expression.

“Oh! Umm, well—“ You fumble over your words. Sheer panic runs through your body as you try to come up with something quickly as to why Alice would have seen you kissing “Santa”.

“Hey, girls look at what time it is. Your mom is going to be here in 20 minutes to pick you up. How about you go on upstairs to get your stuff together. Brush those sticky teeth and get dressed so you’re ready to go when she gets here.” The girls cheer in unison as they both hop off their chairs and run in the direction of the stairs that lead to their rooms. The bombshell revelation is long forgotten now.

“Oh my god!” You let out a big sigh and slump down in your chair, your head turning to see Dave silently laughing to himself. “She’s going to ask me again why I was kissing him— but I think you bought me enough time until they’re back from Carol’s.”

Dave reaches over and grabs your hand, pulling you from your chair and into his lap. Your arms drape around his shoulders, your temple resting against his forehead. His hand smooths over your pajama clad thighs, the other resting at your hip where he gives you a few gentle squeezes.

“Thank you for doing that for her. She might not believe in him next year, but she’ll have this Christmas as a fun memory to tell her kids when they’re asking whether or not Santa is real.”

“Thankfully all she saw was the kissing— or she would have been scarred for life.” Dave says between the soft kisses he’s giving to your neck.

“You’re the worst!” Playfully hitting his shoulder.

“That’s not what you were saying when Santa was showering you with all those gifts last night.” His eyebrows waggle as he looks at you, rolling your eyes back at him. Your face heats up at remembering just how many gifts you were given.

“How about when the girls leave, you slip back into that red suit— forget the beard. And you can give me some more of those wonderful gifts.” You whisper, as if your suggestion might be heard by two sets of small ears. “I might be in the giving mood and have a few for you as well.”

“I don��t know. Have you been a good girl this year?” Dave asks in a low sensuous tone.

“The best!” You manage to say before his hand is pulling your face to his, kissing you with earnestness.

The sound of feet bounding down the stairs cuts the kiss short. Alice and Molly making their way back into the living room to pick up where they left off with their new toys.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” Dave places the softest kiss to your lips.

“Merry Christmas, Dave.”

#dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedrostories #wildemaven writes

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thewitcheslibrary · 1 month

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Beltane

The date of the holiday: 1st may

History: Beltane is derived from the Celtic term Baal or Bel, which meaning "Bright One." As farmers prepared to shift their livestock from winter pastures to summer grazing in the hills, they sought protection and abundance from the gods by starting fires and herding cattle through the flames to the summer grazing fields. This was thought to protect the herd from attack while also increasing fertility.

In more practical terms, these bonfires were most likely used to burn brush heaps and clear space for planting and pastureland. In the home, hearth fires were extinguished and replaced with flames from Beltane bonfires. People often walked the perimeters of their properties or towns to evoke additional protection for the next year. Yellow flowers were used to decorate doorways, windows, and even cattle during Beltane.

Like all of the Wheel of Year sabbat celebrations, Beltane was a time for merry making and feasting. People would write a wish upon a ribbon and tie it a to a tree, in the hopes that the gods would grant them. Hawthorn, ash, thorn and sycamore trees were believed to be the best trees for making wishes.

Dew gathered on Beltane was thought to have special properties for increased beauty and youthfulness.

Beltane and sexuality- SLIGHT NSFW WARNING!

Part of Celtic Beltane beliefs revolved around the holy union of the God and Goddess, which people celebrated by having sex on Beltane. Usually outside, to further connect with nature. Children conceived at Beltane (and hence born at Imbolc) were regarded to belong to the Goddess, and were commonly referred to as'merry-be-gots', with a particular tie to the faerie world. Beltane, like Samhain, was a period when the curtain between the worlds became thinner, allowing ghosts to pass through. Unlike Samhain, the visiting ghosts were not looking for a feast or a quick chat with relatives. The spirits of Beltane were considered to be seeking reincarnation or sexual intercourse.

The topic of sexuality runs throughout Beltane. The Maypole, which maidens usually adorn and celebrate, is a phallic emblem signifying masculine strength, whereas the cauldron represents female power. Women who desired to produce a child would start a small fire, place the cauldron on it, and then leap over it.

To go Maying, or picking flowers and other flora in adjacent woodlands, was associated with casual sex in the woods. There was no stigma connected with out-of-wedlock marriage, and hand-fasting was prevalent, in which two individuals bonded together for a year and a day. Beltane activities such as the Maypole were forbidden by the Puritans in parts of Great Britain in the 17th century, owing in part to their overt sexuality.

END OF THE NSFW -

Symbols of beltane-

Colors: White, dark green, red

Foods: Dairy foods, honey, oats, mead, lamb

Stones: Sapphire, blood stone, emerald, orange carnelian, rose quartz

Symbols: Goat, honeybee, cown, fairies, pegasus, rabbits, flower crown, maypole, basket

Flowers & Plants: Primrose, lilac, hawthorn, birch, Rosemary, Ivy, woodruff, rowan, violet, alfalfa, cedar, peppermint lavendar

Deities: Aphrodite, Artemis, Freya, Rhiannon, Apollo, Bel/Belnos, The Great Horned God, BÓand/Boann

Setting intentions during this time-

Beltane has traditionally been a fertility celebration. However, if you don't have infants in mind, that's OK! Beltane is an excellent opportunity to reflect on creativity and success. Beltane is the moment to follow through on your objectives from Imbolc and Ostara. Perhaps you've been thinking about launching a company; Beltane is the time to set an appointment with the bank and inquire about finance. Perhaps you've been writing a book and now it's time to contact publishers or locate an agent. Beltane, with its promise of harvest and fruitfulness, is a time to take inspired action and be confident.

Ways to celebrate-

Chose one of the deities listed above and honour them in some way, yes even if you dont work with them. You can still celebrate them and wear or do things associated with them, just do so respectfully! Eat some of the foods associated with beltane! Even if you just eat a bowl of oats with honey for breakfast, its a good and simple way to celebrate. And its perfect if you can't openly celebrate, it just looks like your enjoying some food. You could also drink peppermint tea!

Wear some of the colours and carry the stones and gems around with you during this day. You can incorporate both colour magic and crystal magic by doing this and is also just easy to hide and do subtly! - everyone wears clothes (hopefully) and you can just say you are collecting rocks and crystals because you find them cool! - Flower crowns can be incorporated into outfits too.

Buy flowers or make a bouquet with the flowers associated with the holiday! They will make your space or altar look colourful, and flowers are pretty. This isnt as easy to hide, but if people do ask you can tell them you just liked them and treated yourself!

Set aside time for some self care - treat yourself to a special meal, music, aromas - whatever make you feel special!- with this you could use the plants, herbs, crystals, candles in the colours associated with them and some drawn symbols and put together a ritual bath! - bit of a clean up after but again its somewhat easy to hide

some less subtle way to celebrate.

Hold a bonfire for family and friends

Take action on a project you’ve been working on

Decorate a tree with colorful ribbons that represent your wishes for the coming year

Make flower crowns

Walk your property and give thanks and ask for protection in the coming year

Decorate your home yellow flower wreaths, bouquets or garlands

#pagan witch #witch #witchblr #witchcore #witchcraft #beltane #wheel of the year #witchy stuff

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mononijikayu · 2 months

Text

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.

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.

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deadvnstudios · 3 months

Note

hellooooo fools paradise team:3c i am STILL stuck on the valentines day post LOL & so im curious: what would the romanceables valentines day plans with the MC be? or similarly/alternatively what would their ideal date be in general?

“Darling, it’s already nine! While I adore your resting face, I’d prefer to be the very first thing your bright eyes happen upon this special morning.”

Ever the romantic, Mona takes Valentine’s to its extreme. Before you’ve even awoken, she’s already matched your outfits for the day, intent for there to be splashes of pink, white, and red adorning you both from head to toe. Breakfast in bed is a must, and though you fear for your tastebuds - she follows the recipe. Flowers, chocolates, cards, gifts - anything you can imagine awaits you once you finally rise from your cell of slumber. After all, this is your perfect day and Mona’s already planned dinner and a murder party for you to solve together as you dine. In the evening, after you’ve had your fill, you’ll attend a couple’s painting class. Though she could instruct herself, she follows protocol, delighting in the shared drinks you two split and the paint spills you mark each other with.

“Oh…this? I painted it because it’s your favorite animal…right?”

Starting with a nice long walk around the park with his partner is an ideal start for Noel. Valentine’s isn’t about grand gestures, or trying to outdo one another. It’s about remembering the pleasure of each other’s comfort that tethered you two to begin with. However, something handmade from him to you isn’t off the table. The day will pass without hurry, the two of you spending hours at a local craft cafe, sampling treats and putting together trinkets for one another. When your crafts come to a close, you’ll pack up and pick-up some takeout that you’ll share while cuddling on the couch back home.

“Holy shit…my retinas are burning just looking at it. It’s perfect.”

Valentine’s, being a commercial holiday, is nothing more than an obvious capitalist scheme to Mary. So, why not indulge in the shopping fever to win over each other’s favor? Mary corrals you into an hour long shopping spree to start, the two of you picking out gifts secretly to surprise each other with later in the evening. Along the way, she’ll demand a fashion show…or a few, the two of you parading down the aisles in glitzy and gaudy outfits meant to shock any who pass your path. When the two of you are eventually kicked out, the two of you will rush home to find that Mary has planned an indoor picnic just for you. The rest of the night passes quickly as you feed each other treats, and take turns thinking about what kind of future you’d like to build together.

“Woah…almost feels like they based that riddle on us! Isn’t that strange?”

Vein + Valentine’s = flirtatious fun! There’s no better way to prove the strength of your relationship than putting it to the test in an Escape Room challenge Vein booked for the two of you. Expecting the space cowboy theme to come to a natural conclusion, you’re surprised that some of the clues needed to find the final prize involve riddles centered around your relationship and inside jokes. Though you press Vein, her lips are sealed. That is, until you find the final prize: a commissioned portrait of the two of you in your favorite game. To celebrate your victory thereafter, Vein takes you to her favorite local pizza joint. After all, you’ll need the energy for the arcade tonight. It’ll be an all out race to see who can win the grandest prize for the other.

“C’mon, sway with me.”

Valentine’s is guaranteed to be a late start for the two of you - and quite honestly you’d be lucky if Tempest opened his eyes before noon. But whenever he should manage to rise and conquer the day, Tempest is determined take you to a concert of your favorite artist that night. But if the date line-up isn’t in the cards, you can be damn sure he aims to surprise you good with the tickets at the dinner table. The dinner itself is relaxed, dim lit with a band in the back where you two can shoot the can. But when you’ve both had enough, you’ll stroll around the city, touring your favorite haunts, ending up at a pub at the end of the night, tipsy dancing to the songs playing through the speaker as you play pool and darts.

“Must we leave our sheets with such haste? I am but the moon, unready to separate from the sun who warms it.”

The virtues of Valentine’s are not lost on Sorin, nor the reason the holiday itself was created. But Sorin doesn’t yield to the standard expectations of the consumerism. There isn’t any need for showiness, time spent in your company is satisfying enough. The day will be spent indoor with activities Sorin has already prepared for the two of you. Cooking together, dancing to your shared songs, and cracking open a candle painting kit are just snippets of all they have planned for the two of you. The night ends, however, with the most elaborate surprise of all — a scavenger hunt, You search the halls of your hall, following the train of notes left by your love. When you finally reach the end, you happen upon a box filled to the brim with poems and other writings Sorin has penned to you.

#fool's paradise #indie games #visual novel #indie game #vn #tempest #vein #mona #noel #sorin #mary

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wonijinjin · 5 months

Text

dust: a christmas special (ot7)

author’s note: to end the holiday season here is a little special with your favourite boys! have a peaceful day, take care.

synopsis: the christmas chaos vanished, time to clean up your mess, but it is not easy with those seven.

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairings: enhypen x gn! reader (platonic!) | warnings: mentions of being deaf, yelling, playfighting

“i think we should start cleaning up guys, the situation is not sustainable anymore.” it was the last day of christmas, the holy spirit and the holiday atmosphere slowly fading as time went on, you and the boys getting full and sick of stuffing yourselves with delicious special meals which you partly helped cook as well as got delivered to make sure you had enough of everything. wrappers of chocolate and presents were all over the kitchen counter, not leaving any space for you to make your morning drink; moreover the house looked like a mess, the two floors were terribly packed with all sorts of stuff you had to get in order to complete the decoration or to ensure that everyone was having the time of their lives (which included a karaoke machine, darts, and a table tennis court just to mention some activities you did), them being a bit damaged due to the excitement of the day before, the boys handling them roughly. “what did you say? sorry i’m literally deaf, yesterday’s karaoke destroyed my eardrums…even though i wanted to just sleep peacefully…” jake complained while moving into the kitchen, eyes barely open since he didn’t get enough sleep. “oh shit-“ “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT OH MY GOD!”jake whined when you accidentally knocked the pot next to you over, its fall chattering on the marble floor, making your friend jump in surprise. “whoops, sorry. can you get the others? we need to clean this mess up.” you said gently, trying not to startle the poor boy even more.

ten minutes later all of the seven men were on their feet, sleepy gazes pinned upon your figure while waiting for an answer as of why you needed them so badly since jakey had no energy to even finish his sentence. “this is disgusting guys. i don’t even know where this suspicious substance came from, but i think it is better for all of us if we try to get rid of it.” you said with a face of shock, holding a roll of wipes and pointing at the countertop which had what you suspected was some kind of juice, sticking to everything of course. “hee please take the ornaments down from the rooms with riki, they are like broken in half or ripped into pieces anyways, so you can just throw them in the trash can.” you ordered, ushering the oldest and youngest boys of the group out of the mentioned room, and grabbing jay by his hand. “you are gonna help me clean the kitchen since we are probably the only ones who actually know how to do it.” he smiled at your words; you often came around to their dorm to spend time with them, meanwhile getting into a habit of cooking with jay, and this holiday was no exception; you had a blast with these silly boys whom you loved dearly, but the fun was over and everyone had to get back into their normal lives soon, not to mention new year’s eve rolling around soon enough. “sunoo, sunghoon please collect the wrappers.” you pleaded, the duo already hurrying to get the bags. “and lastly jakey and wonnie, can you go out to buy some new garbage bags and cleaning stuff? we are gonna run out i think.” you wondered, looking around the cabinets to find out what was necessary.

after hours of mopping and like ten bags of trash later you finally managed to get the building squeaky clean. “good job guys! i miss the christmas spirit, but i think this little session did wonders to the house! isn’t it nice to have a clean surface to sit down on?” you grinned at them, however they weren’t that happy. “yeah yeah great…” jay said while scratching the back of his head. “i wasted half a day for this…when i could’ve went out to get that ichiran ramen i got from heeseung!” riki added right after, surely not being satisfied with how his holiday came to an end. “i will treat you to a big meal on new year’s eve okay? yall are so dramatic!” you said with a blank expression. “you guys did nothing but eat and play for DAYS…a bit of hygiene doesn’t hurt you know.” sunoo sided with you, happily skipping around the house in the sunshine that was coming in through the big windows. “hah! that’s it for you all, sunny is on my side! i knew you would never let me down!” you ran to him, hugging him tightly to which he responded with a bubbly laugh. “are we gonna argue about this any further or are we gonna finally try to solve that 20000 piece lego set you bought for us?” jungwon asked with a cocked brow, you not even having time to process what happened when sunghoon started screaming. “YEAH FINALLY, THE LEGO!” he quickly grabbed it and poured it out onto the ground, sitting down next to the pieces. “now that i think of it it was a good decision to put away the stuff which has been laying here. now we have all the space for the fun!” heeseung commented, already lowering himself next to hoon. you watched the seven idiots fondly, looking at how their eyes sparkled. “okay big boys, let’s start then!”

bonus:

“YAHHH RIKI DID YOU LOSE THE LAST PIECE?” “I TOLD YOU I HAVEN’T SEEN IT, ARE YOU STUPID?” “HEY! that is not how you talk to the older members!” “it was sunoo’s fault anyways, he was dancing around i bet he kicked it off somewhere…” “I WILL MAKE SURE YOU WILL BE THE ONE KICKED OFF YOU LIAR!” “here we go again…”

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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year

Text

Part 1

Summary: Coming home from college for the summer, you expected your days to be spent reading in your bedroom and sitting through tense family dinners- but an old acquaintance had something else in mind for you.

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Language, anti-religious sentiment throughout

Author’s Note: I tried to write something new but I’m in a megafunk so I decided to just rewrite and improve upon an old series, it’s full official title is Only the Good Die Young 2: Electric Boogaloo (Die Harder). Yes this series has an underlying Billy Joel theme please don't ask me why because I do not know, I was obviously working through something 3 years ago.

---

‘Y/n! You look… healthy.'

Those were your mother’s first words as you walked through the door of your family home. She didn't exclaim how pleased she was to see you or ask how your flight was, no, instead she used her typical passive-aggressive euphemisms to subtly comment on your appearance.

This was going to be a long summer.

Initially you'd been adamant about staying in your apartment for the holidays, even on your own, cause all you wanted was peace and space. Then your parents threatened to cut you off if you didn’t come home so, here you were. You sighed and traipsed upstairs. Approaching your bedroom, you saw the bolt haphazardly screwed to the outside of the door, the one your father had installed years ago after catching you watching ‘ungodly’ TV shows in the living room at midnight.

Ah, coming back here always felt like plunging yourself back into the deep, ice-cold pool of childhood trauma.

Pushing the door open, you saw that your room had been redecorated. It looked fucking dreadful. You glanced up at the wall and a little bit of sick shot up the back of your throat when you saw the WWJD cross stitch, one of your mother's originals no doubt.

...a long, long summer.

—

Your first errand was grocery shopping. Typical of your parents to insist on you coming home for 'family time', only to then hand you a three-page chore list, the majority of which required you to leave the house. You took your time wandering around the store, making the most of your temporary freedom. Even obnoxiously bright fluorescent lighting and the sickly smell of cleaning products was preferable to that crucifix-coated prison.

Eventually you made it to the checkout and started unloading the cheap wine and raisin snacks onto the conveyor belt. The cashier offered the usual pleasantries but you found yourself distracted, wondering where the billows of smoke blowing past the front window were coming from. You tilted your head, trying vaguely to catch a glimpse of the cause, but soon got distracted as you had to try and recall your mom's PIN number.

Stepping outside with arms full of grocery bags, your eyes followed the smoke downwind. Mystery solved. Huddled on the corner of the sidewalk was a pretty big group of guys in leather jackets, most of them with cigarettes balanced between their fingers. It was a pretty intimidating sight. Usually you'd just avoid such an obstacle, crossing the road or just heading in an altogether different direction, but they'd managed to plant themselves directly in your only feasible path home. You just kept your head down, gripped your grocery bags tight and gave them a wide berth.

Your heart almost stopped when you heard one of them pipe up.

'Well holy shit, y/n?’

You turned towards the voice. James Barnes. The two of you went to high school together but, apart from the occasional stilted conversation and reluctant group project, you’d never really developed any sort of relationship. Besides, he always hung out with people your mother didn’t approve of.

And he was what, now? In a motorcycle gang? Figures.

'Hi, James. Good to see you.’ You mumbled, breaking stride momentarily. His friends seemed to find that funny.

'You too but, uh, people call me Bucky now.'

Nodding slightly, you gave him a polite smile before moving off again. You noticed your face beginning to feel warm and your stomach involuntarily tensing. Sure, he was more handsome and less punchable than you remembered, but you had no idea why being in his presence was making you this nervous. Hurried footsteps sounded behind you and in a second he was by your side, his stride syncing up with yours.

'You moving back to town?’

'No, just visiting for the summer.’

'Staying with your parents?'

'Mhmm.'

‘They still religious nut-jobs?’

You stopped and snapped your head round, in complete shock at the brazenness of his questioning.

'I’ll take that as a yes.’ Without taking his eyes off you he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, placed one between his lips and lit it. ‘Guessing you won’t be having much fun this summer then.’

'Not your kind of fun.'

He scoffed slightly at that, his face changing into something resembling pity. ‘Man, you Catholic girls start much too late.’

‘I don’t think I asked for your opinion, James.’ Your words came out much softer than you anticipated, barely a mumble. Not the kind of back-off-or-else warning you were aiming for. He was really getting under your skin.

'You didn’t, but I’ll give you another.’

You raised an eyebrow, watching him blow a cloud of smoke over your head, your stomach now contorted into a tight knot. Against your better judgement you waited for him to carry on.

‘I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints,’ he stepped closer, bringing his lips to your ear and whispering, 'cause the sinners are much more fun.’

—

You dropped the shopping on the counter. The whole way home you hadn’t been able to get James Barnes out of your head, hadn’t been able to stop picturing his smirk or imagining his warm breath on your ear. For some reason you wanted to know more about him, wanted to find out what kind of reputation he'd made for himself while you'd been away, and if anyone had information it’d be your mother. She knew everything about everyone in this godforsaken town. Sitting down for dinner, you seized your opportunity.

'I saw James Barnes at the grocery store today.’

She abruptly dropped her knife and it hit her plate with a sharp clang, making you jump.

'You stay away from that boy,’ she punctuated the words with her fork, which was pointed directly between your eyes, 'he’s trouble. Him and his gang.’

You hated the way she spoke to you sometimes, like you were a child.

'He seemed nice enough.’

‘That’s how it starts,’ your father piped up, ‘then before you know it he’s got you hooked on drugs, living in a trailer, pregnant with his deviant child.’

'Amen.'

And that was the end of that conversation. Your father didn't say much but, whenever he did speak, your mother responded to his slow, dreary words like he was reading a new passage from the gospel. One thing you'd never wanted for yourself was a relationship like theirs, a loveless, bitter husk of a marriage with a biblical power imbalance and nothing left to say to each other. It was terrifying to think that you used to model yourself on them. They had you completely brainwashed before you left for college and, even now, some of their intrusive religious dogma still lingered in your subconscious.

You excused yourself upstairs as soon as dinner was cleared up, ready for your first day back in this hell-hole to be over.

—

Sunday. The priest had been droning on for god knows how long but you'd given up concentrating, his dull voice beginning to sound like a janky old extractor fan whirring behind the altar. You stood, sat, stood, kneeled and sat along with everyone else, singing and praying whenever prompted. This, every Sunday for ten weeks, was going to be torture.

It must've been a couple hours into the service when you felt yourself nodding off. Your shoulders relaxed and your head suddenly felt too heavy to be held up by your neck, you'd barely slept on your mother's concrete mattress the night before and this pew felt heavenly soft in comparison. Just as your eyes started to flutter closed, something startled you. It startled the whole congregation. The droning from the altar stopped and heads turned towards the door, where the disturbance seemed to be coming from. It sounded like a shuddering motorbike engine. Then another joined. In a couple of seconds the entire church was filled with an echoing cacophony of backfiring engines. Someone at the back stood up and ran to the door. There was some shouting and laughing before the noise eventually began to move away, fading into the distance. Looking around, you saw a sea of indignant and sour faces, a thick tension hovering in the air.

‘And that,’ your mother hissed through clenched teeth, ‘is why you don’t go near James Barnes and his friends.’

You had to suck in your cheeks to smother your laughter, nodding insincerely at her words. James’ voice echoed in your head…

The sinners are much more fun.

—

A few days had passed since the biker-blasphemy incident but you were still struggling to shake off James Barnes. You never thought you'd be one of those people who fawned after someone so obviously bad for them, you liked to think you were more sensible- but here you were.

You checked yourself in the mirror one last time before heading out. It'd been years since you had to conceal your actual outfit under the Amish garb your father insisted on you wearing but, by now, you were a natural at it. Once you'd broken free from your parents' Jesus programming you'd developed a great number of secretive techniques that allowed you to lead a semi-normal life without their knowledge, it was just depressing that you were having to employ them again this many years later.

Your friend broke into hysterics when she opened the door and spotted the Yahtzee your mother had stuffed under your arm as you stepped out her front door.

'Is that your cover for the evening?'

'Yep,' you unceremoniously dropped the box in the hallway, 'I figured board game night at Ray's house sounded better than sloppy degenerate party at Ray's house.'

'I know which I'd prefer to be at.'

You smiled, embracing your old friend in a tight hug. 'I just gotta go de-Christian in the bathroom.'

'Is your dad seriously still telling you what to wear?' You nodded at her, rolling your eyes. 'Jesus Christ.'

'Don't get me started on that asshole.'

You stashed your bag of ugly rags alongside your mom's Yahtzee and began wandering from room to room, checking if there was anyone else there you recognised. Nope. Usually you'd just sip some liquid courage and start introducing yourself to anyone who looked friendly, but you knew if your parents smelled even a whiff of alcohol you’d be locked inside all summer, so you just skulked to the kitchen and opened a can of diet coke.

Just as you were beginning to question your decision to attend a house party stone-cold sober, there was a hard tap on your shoulder. You spun round to see James Barnes’ stupid wide grin.

‘Hey there, Church Mouse.’

‘James.’

Being nonchalant seemed the best approach here. You convinced yourself that you were just being intentionally aloof and sexy but, in reality, your parents' words had sunk deeper into your subconscious than you'd ever care to admit. Your wild attraction to this guy still wasn't enough to outweigh the suspicion they'd distilled in you.

'You enjoy your church service on Sunday?' James brought his beer bottle to his lips, smirking around it as he took a sip. 'Heard it was a rager.'

‘Would've been over a lot quicker without your interruption, you make a habit of pissing off strangers for fun?’

‘Nope. Just thought it’d be nice to welcome you home.’

Oh, that whole thing had been for your benefit? Interesting.

Your stomach started to flutter. A light tingle slowly made its way down your spine as you tried desperately to figure out whether he was genuinely trying to show some kind of vague interest or whether he was just mocking you, or even flirting with you for a bet. Your eyes searched his for any hints, your mind was racing faster and faster and you started to panic as you realised that you'd been standing there staring blankly at him for far too long.

‘You don't think it was a little obnoxious?'

‘Ah y’know,’ he leant against the counter, folding his arms, still grinning at you, 'we were just having fun, didn't hurt no one.’

You glanced away for a second in an attempt to smother any kind of smile, but he then bit his lip slightly and your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your chest. There was a second of lingering silence between the two of you, broken only by your embarrassingly loud gulp as he pushed himself away from the counter, took a swift step towards you and jutted his hand past your waist. His face was hovering no more than a couple inches away from yours. There was a quiet clink as he picked up a fresh bottle of beer from the surface behind you, a faint whisper slipping through his lips before he moved away.

‘Call me Bucky.’

A few hours passed, you'd built up the courage to chat to a few people but all the other guests were now reaching the point of drunken incoherence. It wasn't long before you decided you were no longer having a good time. After trudging around for ten minutes trying to find Ray, who turned out to be blowing chunks in the upstairs bathroom, you decided that a sneaky exit through the back door was the best course of action. You could always just gaslight her into believing she was too drunk to remember your emotional, prolonged farewell.

The glass patio door slid open and closed subtly enough but, while you were so busy focusing on not getting spotted, your clumsy ass managed to unceremoniously trample over someone’s feet.

James.

Of course it was. Brilliant.

He was finishing off a cigarette, his amused face fixed on yours as you gracelessly righted yourself. Laughing to himself, he held out the pack to you, but you shook your head.

‘Leaving so soon?’

‘Yeah, not much fun being the only sober person in the room.'

'So have a drink.' He shrugged before clocking your gloomy expression. 'Ah, I get it. Where'd they think you are?'

'Board games night.'

A deep chuckle vibrated through the still night air as he crushed his cigarette butt under his boot. 'That probably would'a been more fun than this mess.'

He nodded slightly, gesturing over your shoulder; you looked back through the glass to see two girls lying on their backs, trying to drink from beer bottles they were holding between their feet.

'Fair point.'

‘So, you wanna go somewhere else?’

Your heart stuttered at his question. You struggled to form a reply, gazing at him wide-eyed. 'I don't- I mean-'

'S'alright, I know the deal,' his arms folded across his chest, 'your mom told you all I could give you was a reputation, right?’

'Something like that.'

'Well, I wouldn't mind proving her wrong, if you'd let me.'

You couldn’t hold back your smile any longer, his eyes lighting up when he spotted it. Shrugging faintly, you scurried around trying to find something witty and attractive to say, something other than I think I might fucking love you.

'How about another time? I should really get home.'

A smirk dawned in the corner of his mouth, you couldn't tell if he was onto you or if he was just always this laid-back. The dull thunk of boots against patio brought his face intimately close to yours once more.

‘Come out with me tomorrow.’

---

Part 2

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optimisticlucio · 4 months

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Growing up Jewish means that, among other things, you get used to a passive but everpresent dread that the rest of the world will eventually want to see you dead. Passover is about that one time the Egyptians enslaved all of the Jews, and despite trying to kill us, we survived. Purim is about that one time a Persian minister tried to have us all killed, but we survived. Hannukah is about the time the Greeks destroyed our holy sites and tried to have us all killed, but we survived. Tisha Be'Av. Holocaust Remembrance Day. Tzom Gedalia. It's gotten to a point where we commonly joke about how 90% of our holidays are just "they tried to kill us, they didn't, let's eat."

If it was merely historical, that'd be one thing, but this sort of fear is far from merely being a story passed down by your elders. My great grandma's entire family was burned alive in the Pogroms. My uncles were beat up for speaking up about antisemitism. My brother was bullied relentlessly in school for being circumcised. "Generational Trauma" is the correct term to define this, but I do think it's important to highlight how every generation re-experienced this trauma. Luckily, I haven't experienced this sort of violence yet beyond some dickheads online, but I don't believe this'll stay the case for much longer.

I want to be clear that despite this all, I'm not pessimistic about my future as a Jew or of the Jewish People as a whole; I'm a hopeless idealist, whether it's about individual life choices or about broader political change in general. We've made it this far, I don't think we'll be taken out that easily, and we can certainly build a better world without having to hide in a gilded cage of our own making. But holy shit, have I heard some concerning things from people recently.

Antisemitism is no longer the Cain's Mark it used to be. Saying this I now realize that it never was this sort of mark it was made out to be, but atleast while I was growing up, it felt like it was atleast socially unacceptable to be openly against the Jews. In the past few years I've had to come to terms with the fact that even if this was the case, it very much no longer is, and the past few months had this process exacerbate significantly.

You guys have heard about the Houthis, right? Paramilitary organization in Yemen, not the official government but controls enough of the country that they function as the government, been blocking trade through the Red Sea as of the time of posting? Those guys. Their logo has "A Curse Upon the Jews" written in big red letters. There is no other way to read that sentence, it is very explicit. Seeing people cheering for this group openly on social media made me somewhat uneasy, both for the... well, the antisemitism, and also that this group is infamous for its blatant human rights violations, including but not limited to bringing back chattel slavery. So, I brought this up to people.

I was expecting some sort of shock, right? Even if they fundamentally believe blocking the red sea is good, that they'd readjust their position on the group itself. "I think it's a cool thing to do, but wow what assholes." I shouldn't have to explain why antisemitic slave owners are bad guys, right?

Right??

The sheer amount of people who responded with one justification or another for why it's actually totally fine blew my fucking mind. "Oh, it's not actually slavery, they're treated very well." "Well, they don't really mean they hate the Jews." "It's just a different cultural form of labor!" "Well, when you have a country like Israel oppressing your people-"

Yeah I think I should probably address the elephant in the room real quick. Israel, and its fascist-adjacent government, has nothing of relevance when someone brings up the issue of worldwide antisemitism. Antisemitism has been thriving for years now. If you open a map Yemen is nowhere near Israel. There's certainly a conversation to have about Israel's abhorrent treatment of palestineans in the west bank and gaza, no doubt, but, frankly speaking, that's not the goddamn conversation we're having right now, and I feel the need to specify this because I've had multiple people derail such conversations consistently. If your first response to someone talking about antisemitism is to bring up Israel, for the love of god reexamine your biases.

Antisemitism has been growing, a lot, and we're scared. According to polls, 7% of the US thinks that the holocaust did not happen, with these numbers increasing to 20% if you sort the results to only the 18-29 age group and 9% of Americans think it's acceptable to hold neo-nazi views. Trust me, I wish these numbers were flukes, but I have seen these same numbers in multiple polls by numerous sources in the past 5 years.

7% of the US is about 23.2 million people.

There are only 16.2 million Jews in the entire world.

You, do not, have to justify antisemitism, I fucking promise you.

#politics #yeah I have a blog #like not this one #one where I actually write rather than just reblog #it's mostly casual but #I had to get this out of my system.#judaism #jumblr

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heathersdesk · 2 months

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Holy Week: The Sacrament

Where is the exact moment Jesus Christ stopped being a Jew and became the founder of a new and separate religion?

Was it when the Sanhedrin rejected him? When enough other Jews decided he was a heretic, rather than a teacher? Was it the first time he claimed to be the Son of God? When he called his Twelve Apostles, and called Peter the rock upon which he would build his church?

Personally, I think it was the last time he celebrated Passover with his disciples. I'm switching over to Luke 22 for this one.

The celebration of Passover included the eating of unleavened bread and drinking wine. But what Jesus does with them here is where I think the break between Judaism and Christianity begins:

19 And he took bread, and gave thanks, and brake it, and gave unto them, saying, This is my body which is given for you: this do in remembrance of me. 20 Likewise also the cup after supper, saying, This cup is the new testament in my blood, which is shed for you.

To have a new testament signifies the formation of a new covenant. This is the moment where Jesus uses the authority he has from God to form a new community with a religious identity separate and distinct from Judaism. While Jesus was a Jew, followed Jewish law, observed Jewish customs and holidays, and worshiped the same God as the Jews, he intended to create a church and a community that would break from Jewish traditions. The institution of the Sacrament (our terminology for Holy Communion or the Eucharist in other traditions) was the initiation of this break.

Because Latter-day Saints haven’t celebrated Holy Week historically, and this is something our currently leadership is inviting us to change, it’s been really special to see what other Christians do to make this time special. It has been a great reminder that Easter is the opportunity for all Christians, including us, to celebrate the relationships we've personally developed with Jesus Christ. We have more in common with other Christians than we might think we do, and it’s because we all have this common belief in how much Jesus Christ and his ministry changed the world.

I’m still contemplating what it means for me to celebrate Holy Week. I’ve thought about the choice I made at Easter time many years ago to be baptized. I went to the temple yesterday. I’ve been studying scriptures for these daily meditations, which I’ve enjoyed very much. And tomorrow, my husband and I are going to an orchestral performance of Rob Gardner's Lamb of God. There isn’t really an established program for any of this for our people now, and we’re each contemplating how to do this and make it personally meaningful.

My favorite part of sharing these has been the ways you all have shared how my thoughts are helping you to develop your own Holy Week messages and traditions with your own families. I’ve deeply enjoyed those messages, and I think this was the wisdom in having us begin participating in these traditions: the way we would help each other and celebrate our faith in Christ together. It truly doesn’t get better than that. And I hope that becomes a key feature of what Latter-day Saints celebrating Holy Week looks like going forward.

#mormon #lds #mormonism #tumblrstake #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #religion #faith #queerstake #christianity #scripture study #easter #holy week #the book of mormon #new testament #bible study

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 4 months

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By: Elizabeth Weiss

Published: Jan 20, 2024

Recently, the Navajo Nation has embarked on a mission to stop flights to the moon, especially those intending to deposit human cremated remains (commonly referred to as “cremains”). The Navajo Nation regards the moon as sacred, arguing that depositing cremains—or any objects, for that matter—constitutes an act of desecration. This controversy centers around the Peregrine Mission 1, a NASA-spon.sored expedition to the moon. Two private companies, Celestis and Elysium Space, plan to use this mission to transport the cremains of individuals who opted for a lunar resting place.

Upon receiving a letter from Buu Nygren, the Navajo Nation’s President, the White House convened a meeting to hear their objections to those flight plans. Although the White House correctly concluded that the government did not have the authority to stop the flight or hinder the private companies’ plans, one may wonder why these religious concerns of the Navajo Nation were ever seriously considered in the first place. Typically, the U.S. government refrains from interfering in scenarios where religious beliefs are at stake, as evidenced by the longstanding conflict between fundamentalist Christian creationists and the teaching of evolution in schools.

Yet, the case appears different when it involves Native American traditional religions—a loosely defined amalgamation of beliefs, often intertwined with Christian elements, and lacking formal sacred texts. In these instances, the US government has been bending the First Amendment of the Constitution so greatly that it is bound to snap.

The First Amendment of the US Constitution clearly states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.” This means that the federal government should be neutral towards all religions, avoiding favoritism to any denomination. Although the U.S. Government generally avoids supporting or discriminating against specific religions, as demonstrated by the diverse holiday displays ranging from nativity scenes to the Satanic Temple altar in Iowa, traditional Native American religions have been the exception to this strict adherence to the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause.

This exception is evident in NASA’s collaboration with the Navajo. In NASA’s 108-page education guide, “Story of the Stars,” intended for “Classrooms and Community-Based Educational Events,” Navajo religious beliefs are treated as being of equal importance to NASA’s scientific research. On page 3, the guide contains a statement from the Navajo: “We are the Holy People of the Earth. We are created and placed between our Mother Earth and Father Sky.” Further evidence of religious support in this guide is a story stating, “After the creation of the Earth, sky, and the atmosphere, the Holy people realized the whole university was entirely dark.” It is interspersed with tales of sacred directions, seasons, beliefs, and rules of life. Notably, in the acknowledgements, Leland Anthony Jr. is listed as the project’s “spiritual advisor.”

Given this content on NASA’s website, it’s hardly surprising that the White House would hastily convene a meeting with the Navajo Nation to consider the validity of objections to moon flights. However, these considerations favor one religion and teach one religion, thereby violating the US Constitution.

Another example of the Federal government showing a denominational preference appears in the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA). Enacted in 1990, NAGPRA aids in the repatriation and reburial of human remains and artifacts deemed “sacred,” or as grave goods, or objects of cultural patrimony. A specific instance of this favoratism within NAGPRA is the requirement that at least 2 of the 7 individuals on the review committees “must be traditional Indian religious leaders.” Additionally, each NAGPRA meeting begins and ends with a “traditional Indian prayer.” For example, Armand Minthorn’s prayer at the January 5, 2023 meeting started with, “Today, as we come together, we thank our Creator for our life, our family, and our friends. And we ask our Creator today to give us strength and courage to go on and go forward.”

Perhaps most troubling is the acceptance of Native American religious creation myths as evidence for present day tribal affiliation to past populations. These tales have been leveraged to empty museums and universities of research collections–collections that might otherwise contribute to advancements in forensic identification techniques, aiding today’s Native American crime victims.

Final examples of the US government supporting Native American religions involve discriminatory practices based on sex. For instance, at the Smithsonian Arctic Studies Center, religious traditions led Inuit elders to forbid female archaeologists from handling certain artifacts. Similarly, when the California Department of Transportation archaeologists collaborated with the Kashaya Pomo tribe, the tribe’s religious protocols dictated that menstruating women be isolated, prohibited from conducting fieldwork, kept away from Native elders, and forbidden from talking about spiritual topics!

It is time for the US government to stop its unconstitutional denominational preference of Native American religions. Stopping these preferences would uphold the First Amendment’s Establishment Clause, protect scientific endeavors, and prevent discriminatory practices.

You shouldn't be any more comfortable with the Navajo making demands based on their religion than Xianity or Islam. Being loosely defined and vaguely "spiritual" doesn't change any of that.

Imagine an Orthodox Jew dictating "that menstruating women be isolated, prohibited from conducting fieldwork, kept away from Jewish elders, and forbidden from talking about spiritual topics" and being able to get traction and compliance from the government (and government institutions).

Your religion's rules apply to you, not me. If your religion forbids putting cremains on the moon, don't send any cremains to the moon. If your religion demands the moon be honored, go honor the moon. Over there.

#Elizabeth Weiss #Navajo Nation #Native American religions #First Amendment #US Constitution #Establishment Clause #secularism #separation of church and state #freedom of religion #indigenous religions #religion #religion is a mental illness

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jpitha · 1 year

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Just a Little Further 14

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Here I am, standing outside the door to Captain Q'ari's cabin. What am I doing? It's early still, and I don't think she's a late riser, so she's probably awake. But still.

You fear to find out that I'm right and she thinks you a God.

Well yes, of course I do. I don't want to be a God.

And yet. Here we are, with Godhood thrust upon you. Take the power offered, revel in it. They think you a God? Fine. Be a God.

Me help me (heh), that is staring to make sense.

Good.

I stand there arguing with myself and the door opens. Captain Selem Q'ari is standing there, fur brushed until it shone, uniform pressed sharply. This is the first time I stand so close to her, I smell a clean scent too. Is she wearing perfume?

She can't help herself. She is trying to impress you.

"Captain." I say. She is startled and jumps back. "Ho-Lieu-Melody. Good Morning. I apologize, you started me."

Hmm, she was going to go with Holy One before she caught herself. Interesting.

"Captain...Do you think I am holy?"

Wow, I just came right out and said it didn't I?

She swallows, clearly nervous. Taking a deep breath she calms herself. "Melody, it was how I was raised. Not many K'laxi still follow the Old Ways as closely, but a lot of us know the basics, and the high holy days are still celebrated as regular holidays. Parties with friends, days off work, that kind of thing. The greater meaning is mostly lost of everyone, but they still celebrate. Yes. Ancestors protect me, I think you - what you have become - is Holy."

"Am I Tep’ra’fel?" I ask.

She looks as if I have slapped her. "You haven't given me an order, I don't know."

I sigh. "S̷̩̊͑ë̸̳́l̵̺̪̈́̎è̷̮̼͠m̷̻͋̕. Go into your quarters and show me the scent you applied. I like it."

She pivots on the balls of her feet, and goes into her quarters. Within a moment, she returns with a small brown cylinder. Wordlessly she hands it to me with tears streaming from her eyes. I take it and look down. There's a drawing of a forest and in the raised and rounded K'laxi script it says "forest dreams." Huh, I can read K'laxi now too. I hand it back to her.

"So then." I say. "The undeniable eh?"

She nods.

"What does that mean for the mission?" I say.

It means whatever you want it to mean. You are Empress. You are undeniable.

"You are a Builder." She whispers. "The mission is whatever you wish it to be, Builder."

Oh for the love of. "Captain Q'ari, you are still the Officer in Command of this mission. Even with my... elevated status you are still in Command."

Just order her to be Captain.

I can do that?

You're the Empress. How many different ways do we have to explain it? You can do whatever you want.

"Selem. Would it make your life easier if I ordered you to continue to be Captain? If I told you as a Tep’ra’fel, as your... Empress, to be in charge of the exploration mission?"

She whispered, "Empress?" She shuddered. I couldn't tell if it was in pleasure or pain. "I can't be above you."

She's right you know.

I said quiet, you.

I'm just saying.

This is exhausting. "Okay then. S̷̩̊͑ë̸̳́l̵̺̪̈́̎è̷̮̼͠m̷̻͋̕ Q'ari, Captain of the exploration Starjumper FarReach and the Officer in Charge of the mission. I, in my role as The Builder Melody and Empress of the Holy Imperial Systems order you to continue your mission. When necessary, you may issue Lieutenant Melody Mullen orders that facilitate that mission."

She relaxed visibly at the order. With an exhale she said "Thank you Lieutenant. I apologize for being... difficult, but I appreciate you accommodating me."

"Of course, Captain. I am happy that we were able to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Empress of the Holy Imperial Systems?

Old Title. Sounds like it's just come back into fashion.

She stares at me a moment. "M-Melody, you said you were "Empress of the Holy Imperial Systems. What's that?"

"The Nano machines - the Nantes - tell me that I'm the current Empress of the empire that's over on this side of the galaxy. What's left of it at least. As far as we know, all that's left is this starbase and the destroyed one."

It was five hundred and fifty five gates with planets, starbases and over 30 client sapient species.

"In the Old Days, it was pretty big, apparently."

She turns her head. "And you are its head now?"

I shrug. "The nano machines say so. I don't know though. I guess if I want to be, I just have to declare it."

And have the force to keep it.

I turned and left her quarters. I don't know what else to do, so I go to the dining hall. It's nearly breakfast and I'm starving. Even an Empress needs to eat apparently.

I really didn't want to just order everyone to be normal. I can't say I didn't think of it at least a little bit though.

Most Empresses that we have memories of do it. It's completely normal.

Most?

There are a few who reveled in being worshipped. They did not want people to be normal around them.

Wait, you said the Empresses we have memories of. Are my memories being recorded too?

Of course they are, Empress. You are a Builder, and Empress. Your memories are being recorded to the nanites in your body so that when you pass, your memories remain. Your edicts remain. You remain.

But there hasn't been an Empress in thousands of years as near as we can tell?

No system is perfect. The rebellion must have been swift and complete. we imagine the previous empress was not well liked.

But you don't know?

One has to touch a directory stone to complete the upload. In the past it has been part of a yearly celebration of the Empire and the Gates. The previous Empress didn't get a chance to touch the gates during the rebellion, so we don't know what happened.

The other system, the Wilds of Besmara was almost completely destroyed. The planet was cracked in half and the starbase there almost dead and cold. Some kind of field enveloped us and we were starting to get pulled in. You don't recall this?

We had just been introduced to you as the Empress, we were not fully online at that point. One moment.

I get an odd feeling. I think the Nanites are trying to access my memories in real-time. It's like I'm reliving the whole frightening situation.

Ah. Yes.

Well? What happened?

We do not know. The last time we were uploaded, the Wilds were a prosperous, thriving system. The planet was known to house fully a billion sapients and was very productive.

We should find out what happened, and see if there are people still there and if they need help.

Now, you're thinking like an Empress.

Ugh. We probably should go back and see what happened. Maybe I can sponsor a trip with one of the ships docked and have them go look.

While I sit at the table arguing with myself, Ava walks in. "Oh, good morning... Melody, did you sleep well?"

I'll take it. At least she didn't launch into calling me Holy One right away. "Good morning Ava, I slept all right, how about you?"

She took a pastry from the plate on the table and sat down. "Wasn't bad really, though I imagine you're undergoing a lot more stress than I am." She takes a bite and while chewing, weighs something in her mind. I can see she's going to ask me something she's interested in after she swallows. Probably what it's like being an Empress or something similar.

She doesn't know you're an Empress yet.

Details.

"So Melody, what's it like?"

Told you.

"What's what like?"

She gestured. "Suddenly getting the knowledge to speak every language and having everyone on the station think that you're a Builder - whatever they were - and then, the robe and the wings and the crown! It was wild looking. You were looking positively radiant out there."

Wait. What?

"You thought I looked... good?" I did not expect this.

"Oh my God, yes." Ava laughed. "You looked so powerful, so beautiful." She blushed slightly when she said it. "Everyone was afraid of you! Us over on FarReach were frightened a little bit too, I'll admit. I swear once Captain Q'ari realized what was going on, she practically started shaking. But you? You were making it work. Frankly, I'm jealous. Next time we find a directory stone, I want to touch it."

You know, we are going to need more Builders. She sounds like an ideal candidate.

Shh, not right now.

"Actually Melody, do you know anything more about who you are than you did yesterday? Like, are you a religious head or just someone known as a Builder, or what?"

I can feel the nanites staring at me mentally.

Tell her. The K'laxi already suspect and Captain Q'ari knows.

"Yes. I did learn more." I say quietly. "But rather than repeat myself, I'll tell everyone after breakfast."

"Oh." She seems disappointed. "Okay, I'll wait. Thanks, Melody."

Why is she disappointed?

She's attracted to you, she wants to spend more time with just the two of you.

What.

Come now, even with the increases to your perception and body language processing you are telling us you can't see it? She is practically shouting it.

"So hey Ava, I'm going to have to go out into the Starbase later, do you want to be in the team that comes along next time?"

Her face lights up like a summer dawn. It was exactly the right thing to say.

"I would love to Melody. Thank you so much for inviting me. Are we going to wear pressure suits?"

"Not this time I think." I say carefully. "I have something else in mind."

Everyone trickles in and breakfast is served. It's pretty light and simple today. Captain Q'ari looks much better after I ordered her to be normal and it feels like any other morning.

Almost.

After we clear our plates and get one more cup of coffee. I stand. "Everyone? With the Captain's permission, I'd like to say something."

Captain Q'ari looks over at me and flicks her ears but her body language says that of course it's fine. I still need her to say it though, she is still the Captain.

"Of Course Mel-Lieutenant Mullen. Please, you have our attention."

I take a deep breath, hold it for a two count, and let it out through my nose. Here goes.

"Yesterday, you noticed my... outburst after the security forces tried to break up that religious congregation. The singers are a member of a church that has congregations all over this starbase that worship the Builders and pray for their return."

"Yesterday, as far as they are concerned, their prayers have been answered."

Murmurs and questioning noises from the crew. The K'laxi members are split evenly with looking fascinated like Dr Irenimum, and rapturous, like Captain Q'ari.

The humans mostly look confused. Ava is excited though.

"As near as I am able to tell from the nano machines - the Nanites - inside me, Humans, or at least a recent offshoot of us, ruled this side of the galaxy. The Nanites give people who possess them increased abilities. According to Dr Irenimum, I am healthier than I have ever been, may live much much longer than by default, and have a greater ability to read people and body language, in addition to understanding every language spoken to me so far."

Kieran nods.

"But, there is something else you should know. The Nanites I have are a special variety. I am in possession of the Nanites that the Empress of the Holy Imperal Systems would have. I am, as far as I am able to figure out, their Empress."

Now, there's noise from the crew. FarReach is first able to talk over the din. "Melody, you're telling me, telling us that you're an Empress now? You're in charge of this Starbase?"

I nod. "Originally, I was in charge of five hundred and fifty five gates and all the systems, starbases and sapients contained within."

Omar is next. "Wait you were in charge? or the Previous Empresses was in charge?"

I make a pained face. "This is where it gets weird." I start.

"Gets weird?" Gene says.

I nodded. "Gets weirder Gene, thank you." The Nanites contain the recorded memories and... feelings of the previous empresses. The Empress is supposed to touch the directory stone once a year or so and her memories and feelings are... backed up to the stone so that if the empire falls - like it did - and another human touches the stone - like I did - the nanites reactivate and restore from backup basically. They tell me I'm still me and will remain me, but now I am also the Empress."

"Was that why you were able to cow that whole crowd, and knew the words to say"? I saw that they were doing a call and response with you." Ava says. I can see she's drinking me in. This is a little weird.

"Yes. The Nanites told me what to say, took over temporarily really. I didn't want them to rip that Aviens to shreds, but that... was what happened. I feel bad about it."

You are the Empress. The crowd did as you commanded. There is no feeling bad when people follow your orders.

"What about the language?" Fer'resi asks. "The translator that they gave us?"

"Oh! I almost forgot about that. Omar, can you go grab it off my workstation and bring it down here. Don't activate it please."

Wait, did I use my asking voice or ordering voice? I can't tell. Omar gets up and goes to get it regardless.

Mei'la looks at me oddly. I can't tell if she's from a religious family or not. "Melody, do the Nanites tell you anything about us?" Religious then.

"Yes actually. One of the last memories that they have is about your killing your overseers and closing your Gate permanently."

Mei'la's face runs between looking pleased that they overthrew their masters but also looks shocked. "But, we didn't go to space for a thousand years after the religion that talks about the Gates was founded."

Dr Irenimum adds "Maybe they stole a Builder craft to do it, and then landed or crashed on K'laxi and without the ability to repair it..." He shrugged.

"Okay then, what about the big question?" Mitchel says. "What about Earth?"

"The Nanites say that a splinter group of builders rebelled and closed and locked their Gate a long time ago They suspected that those splinter Builders even destroyed their Gate.. The Nanites were just as surprised to find us as we them."

Mitchel whistles low "Wow. Then it must be at least 15 to 20 thousand years ago. Maybe longer. How long have these folks been operating without an Empress? Would they even want one if you came back?"

The splinter Builders closed their Gate millennia before the K'laxi rebellion. The two events did not happen close together.

The Nanites say the humans left millennia before the K'laxi closed their gate. In fact, the Empress previous to me was on her way to personally open the gate when the memories stop. Captain Q'ari how old is your religion?"

She stops and thinks, avoiding my gaze. "No more than one thousand of our years, I'd say." So two thousand of ours. Just then Omar returns. "Here you go, Your liege" he says, bowing dramatically and extra silly, while presenting me with the translator on a napkin.

I giggle. What I am saying is pretty silly when taken out of context. I hold the translator and concentrate.

"Melody, your'e glowing!" Mei says, surprised. Ava looks and says "And you have a... crown? on your head?"

As if from nowhere, a breeze blows up around me and my uniform rustles. If I had long hair, it would probably be blowing dramatically at this point but my short spiky hair just flutters. I guess I could have just continued to poke and prod at it at my station like I was going to, but I need my worry confirmed. I'm pretty sure that given all the other things I can do, I can do this too. I try and... look inside the translator.

Hmm. It is a translator, but no software is loaded. Instead, malware was installed - poorly we might add - to try and render the wearer more pliant.

"It is as I had worried." I said to everyone. "This translator was a trap. Anyone who tried it was going to have some - frankly poor quality - malware installed either on their systems or themselves."

"On themselves?" Gene asks.

With glowing eyes, I look up at Gene. He shrinks back reflexively. "Sorry Melody, I guess if something can be installed on you, it could be done to us."

Fer'resi shakes his head sadly. "No, no translation help then. I guess we will have to do it ourselves."

Of course you don't have to do it on your own. You're the Empress. Make them give the correct software to your linguist.

"No Fer'resi. I don't think we'll have to do it ourselves." I put the translator down on the table. "Ava, Fer'resi, Mei'la, come. Let's go and pay the administration offices a visit."

"Of course Melody!" Ava practically jumps out of her chair. "Do we need our pressure suits or just our uniforms?"

I look at the three of them. "No, I will take care of it." With a thought, I realize how they should look. How they're supposed to look. The Nanites surround them in a grey fog, completely obscuring them for a moment. After a very short time, they reappear.

Now, they're in Royal Blue outfits, cut smartly, and fitting perfectly. They're like the ships uniform, but a little more elaborate. They have orange yellow piping and little bits and extras here and there.

I changed my own uniform too. Also Royal blue with orange yellow accents, but more... Imperial. My crown of light and fog is colored to match and I find that I'm wearing wings made of the same light and fog material - it must be Nanites doing it. Remembering Ava's words, I gave myself better shoes with a bit of a heel and my uniform is very slightly lower cut. There's more than one kind of intimidation apparently. Without waiting to see if they are following me, I stride towards the airlock. "FarReach, record our exit." I say. "We are paying a visit to the administrative offices. No weapons this time."

"Okay Melody, is has been so logged. Good luck?"

"For them maybe. I don't need luck." I catch myself just a moment before it's too late. "But I appreciate your sentiment. Thank you FarReach."

Part 15

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans go on adventure #humans are space oddities #sci fi writing #writing #humans and ai #humans and aliens #the k'laxiverse #jpitha #just a little further

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