#all the death symbolism surrounding the two of them ?

[sugar-grigri]

Nayuta wasn't killed by Barem, she's his ally 

Poor fandom, you're disorientated just when your compasses should be working properly. 

Let's learn how to eat sushi properly, step by step. Or rather, how about reading Chainsaw Man in the right order? By calmly superimposing everything we know in the right order 

So let's not panic, let's get on with it. Dry your tears, clean your snot and let's get back to the introductions. 

First layer of sushi: Denji and Pochita are made for each other 

Who is Chainsaw Man? It's a question we've been asking ourselves a lot, but how about a simple answer - we're not here to mess around. Chainsaw Man is the combined result of Pochita + Denji. Do we agree? Why have they become so close? Because they look alike, don't they? Alone, hungry, in need of a little warmth and a little love. 

Second layer of sushi: birthday, despair, amnesia...

If we take the stories in outline, Denji meets Makima and then bonds with his siblings. A sibling who eventually dies, and whose final breaking point is his sister, cut in two. On top of that, it's his birthday, isn't it? Makima invites Denji to open the door that confined his traumas, including the death of Denji’s father? 

You see, I've already missed it, I went too fast. Let's resume calmly, birthday... Denji had forgotten it was his birthday, hadn't he? His birthday is the day you're born, it's one of the few pieces of information we don't really question, but Denji forgot it. But haven't you ever really wondered...

If Denji had celebrated his birthday? And why, how, he wanted to eat a cake? His father was violent and his mother died when he was very young, so is it really safe to say that Denji celebrated his birthday? 

I had another question, why does Fujimoto always seem to accentuate the cakes so much?

I really think that cake is one of the keys, because it's a tunnel of memories that resurfaces in Denji, the cake, his birthday, then Power's death, then his father's death. It's a sushi within a sushi (we're slowly taking things back in order), I think it's about layers that need to be taken back in chronological order, yes chronological 1) the death of Denji's father 2) the death of Power 3) Denji's birthday 4) the cake. Which brings us to this scene.

Was this scene shown not just metaphorical or symbolic, but actually happened? Denji having contracted with the control demon whose power is to control memory, in order to reshape him perfectly so as not to be happy and to do whatever she asks of him later. Why couldn't Denji open that door? Why does Aki's death sound so abruptly like Denji's absence, with a mini ellipsis that doesn't show us in concrete terms how Chainsaw Man killed him? I'm going too fast again, let's start again...

Makima hasn't made Denji unhappy, she's created a being made for unhappiness.

This scene refers to an anniversary, amnesia and despair, all ingredients that enabled Pochita to take complete possession of Denji and show us the most complete version of Chainsaw Man.

Which means Barem isn't lying, is he? Same here, I'm going too fast!

Third layer of sushi: the closer Denji gets to happiness, the more he doubts...

Denji manages to become himself again and succeeds in killing Makima, by devouring her. In a very simple and concrete way, Makima was devoured and this put an end to her existence. Keep this in mind. Nayuta is reborn, becoming Denji's little sister, lots of dogs surround them, Chainsaw Man becomes extremely popular and it's in this part 2 that Denji will feel the least like himself, the least like Chainsaw Man. Strangely enough, it's when he approaches a semblance of happiness that Denji pulls away from himself.

Barem really doesn't seem to be lying, does he? But once again, I'm going too fast, let's get on with it!

Fourth layer of sushi: Barem never lies 

This is something I quickly came up with, and it's so precise, I think his character is thought of that way, and it's his narrative role. Even though he's deceitful, manipulative and devious, the bro does NOT LIE. He didn't lie about the weapons attack, he didn't lie that he looked like a Chainsaw Man fan, and he doesn't lie in the last chapter. But same, I'm going too fast. 

Fifth layer of sushi: Nayuta betrayed by Chainsaw Man 

When Denji made the choice to become Chainsaw Man, the house, his source of happiness, was falling to ashes, his dogs, his cat were dying. Denji went through with his dream and abandoned the little sister who made him happy. Barem didn't impose misfortune on Denji; it was Denji who chose misfortune, despite Nayuta's fears. The happier he was with her, the more he lost himself. He left her in Barem's hands and provoked an existential crisis in her. Which made her reconnect with her old self. 

Sixth layer of sushi: an unblocked memory. 

The aftertaste that sticks to your palate is a piece of information I mentioned earlier. Makima has been devoured. What defines the Knights of the Apocalypse from the rest of the demons? Their memory. What if Nayuta had now understood how Chainsaw Man's power worked? 

Seventh layer of sushi: chapter 170. 

This explains Nayuta's severed head, a macabre mise-en-scène to make her brother lose his mind a little more. As for Barem, he doesn't lie to us and gives us instructions on how to read Chainsaw Man. He knows how to read Chainsaw Man, since he knows the two conditions for him to regain his full power because Nayuta gave them to him. For all this is nothing more than their death. 

Layer zero of sushi: the unknown. 

Now I'm entering the quintessential madness of my analysis. Makima contracted with Denji at a very young age, and gave him several orders: survive at all costs, remain miserable, and one day kill Power and Aki. Above all, she ordered him to contract with Pochita, hence Denji's reflex to hand his open wound directly to the demon. This misfortune, this amnesia due to the contract with Makima, this survival on his own, finally allowed a weakened Chainsaw Man to find a kindred spirit, a loved one. Believing in happiness, then destroying it, kept Chainsaw Man's power in check, those vain dreams only a human could imagine. Denji was a kind of Russian doll, holding back Pochita and his over-power. That's why these two conditions exist. 

To be unhappy, or to break this Russian doll. 

To be feared by all, or to be alone. 

Or kill Denji. 

To save Pochita. 

Layer - 100000 of sushi: did you think I'd finished losing my head? I don't think so. What if everything I've been telling you all along, taking things in order, were to be done in reverse? Take them out of order. I'll ask the questions so you can understand. Why is Makima so obsessed with Chainsaw Man? Why did the Knights of the Apocalypse fight Chainsaw Man in the underworld? How did they manage to retain their memories? Why start the story with a parricide? Why was Denji finely polished by Makima to welcome Pochita when Makima never saw Denji, the reason for her own death? How could she enter into a contract with someone she has never seen? 

Because someone is controlling the control demon itself. Just as it controls the way the story is presented to us. How can we trust an antagonist who controls memory? And an amnesiac protagonist? 

Why did Pochita do what he did in the underworld? Why this sudden fury? Why do demons hear chainsaws at the moment of their death? 

Because we've come full circle. More precisely, what you're reading is not part 2 but part 1, or to be more (MORE) precise, the end of Chainsaw Man will lead to its beginning. The desire to create a better world, to kill death, will lead to a temporal loop in the world that will never cross the apocalypse, blocked just ahead. 

Makima herself is controlled by her future self, which allows her to make references to the future and know the recipes for unleashing Chainsaw Man's power without understanding why, her future self knows Chainsaw Man, she loved him. So Makima also loves Chainsaw Man without really understanding why, amnesiac like Denji.

Denji doesn't kill his father, it's his old self who is killed. 

But another Denji tries to put an end to this... 

Spiral. 

Stuck between two worlds, two temporalities, morning (Asa), night (Yoru), someone is trying to put an end to this endless world, before dawn.

[toweringclam]

Something I don't think enough people talk about in Elden Ring lore is the usurpation of Marika by Radagon.

It's subtle, but the signs are all there. The most obvious are in their statues and portraits.

Marika is bowing her head and in shadow. Radagon is looking towards the Erdtree with his head held high. The choice to have his hand sticking out towards the viewer is a really odd one. He wants to emphasize that pose. The power difference between these two pictures is staggering.

Then there are the statues at the churches:

Marika is again bowing her head and her arms are up in the same crucifixion pose she's in at the end of the game, while Radagon is in a cruciform pose. Superimpose the two, and he's the cross she's hung on. Plus, behind him is the lattice that seals off the Erdtree. Her feet aren't on the ground, while his feet are and are surrounded by roots (a common symbol in statues throughout the Lands Between). And if these two statues were made by the same sculptor at the same time, then all the statues across the lands between were replaced at around the same time, replacing any possible depictions of Godfrey as well as older depictions of Marika.

And we know what those older depictions looked like! Look at the Stake of Marika (when it isn't broken, that is):

This is more likely an older depiction. Her arms are wide for an embrace, not suspended above her. She's looking down in benevolence, not defeat.

We see the same pose in the intro, her statue looking down on the dead Tarnished being sent home. Since this takes place outside the Lands Between, this must be the depiction that the Tarnished carried with them:

And then there's the Church of Pilgrimage in the Weeping Peninsula. This is where the Tarnished left from and were supposed to one day return. There's a statue of Radagon there, but Melina doesn't mention him. She just mentions Godfrey.

Then, after thy death, I will give back what I once claimed. Return to the Lands Between, wage war, and brandish the Elden Ring. Grow strong in the face of death. Warriors of my lord. Lord Godfrey.

Think about this. Really think about it. Why would she want them to come back? Why would she want them to wage war against her?

She refers to Radagon as "leal hound of the Golden Order" while dressing him down. To me, this implies that she is currently at odds with the Golden Order. And if you think about it, none of the Golden Order spells refer to her. Some of the Erdtree incantations do. But there's very little even mentioning her once Radagon is her husband.

It just seems really obvious to me that Radagon was the one calling the shots in the last days before the Shattering.

[zuzu-draws]

So after the spoilers for Chap 257 dropped, I saw some tweets clarifying the meaning of the Kanji Sukuna used in the chapter when referring to his mother, and the overall reveals in the chapter got me thinking.

I’m making this post as a way of gathering my thoughts, personal speculations and where I think all of this connects to Sukuna’s character and the information Gege has given us over the years. Nothing I say is by any means new information, but like I said, I’m just collecting my thoughts here. By the way, just a warning, this post contains SPOILERS for the JJK Manga! If you don’t like that, please don’t read this!

Something I’ve noticed is that the theme of “Hunger” and symbolism of “Cooking/Food” is heavily referenced with Sukuna throughout the Manga. Gege in a previous Fanbook has disclosed Sukuna’s favorite Hobby to be “Eating”.

This theme is again very much ingrained within Sukuna’s cursed techniques and even his Domain Expansion, the “Malevolent Shrine”. With his two main techniques being “Dismantle” and “Cleave” are cutting-type attacks. He is also able to use a Flame-Arrow, and Fire is essential for making Food. The Shrine in his Domain Expansion literally has mouths on all sides, looking eager to chew down anything in-front of them!

This symbolism also heavily influences Sukuna’s own manner of speech, and the way he speaks to other characters in the series as well. With his post-fight chat with Jogo before his death, Sukuna mentions Jogo lacking the “Hunger” to take control of his desires, preventing him from reaching the heights of Gojo Satoru. Before the Start of their fight in Shinjuku, Sukuna called Gojo a “Nameless Fish on top of his cutting board”, and that he was going to start by “Peeling off the scales”(refering to Gojo’s infinity). There’s also further symbolism that supports this by analyzing the Kanji and meaning of Sukuna’s “Malevolent Shrine” but I’m not very educated on that so I won’t be opening that point here.

What all of this points to is that Eating and Food……is extremely important to Sukuna, to the point that it literally affects him in manners innumerable.

Eating is an instinct, a necessity for the survival of every single living being.

And In the face of extreme Hunger and starvation, even those with the strongest will could lose their Humanity and revert to the basic animalistic side of their existence. (The Heian Period also had a Famine, although I believe the timing to be a bit off, but do with this info as you see fit)

In JJK Chapter 257, it is revealed to us that Sukuna and his Twin were most likely starving in the womb of their starving mother.

On the brink of starvation, Sukuna had to consume his “other self”(his twin), so that he could survive.

Btw, this tweet and this thread gives additional characterisation to Sukuna:

Link to the original thread: Link.

More context (and reactions :P):

Link to original thread: Here

This reveals to us that indeed, Sukuna was born a twin. And as we all know, “Twins” are seen with extreme scrutiny in Jujutsu Society, they’re not well liked. This too in a period where Cursed Spirits and Jujutsu Sorcery was at its peak, it is not far-fetched to assume that his Mother may not have been treated very well by the people in her surroundings, especially as she bore twins.

When Kashimo asks if Sukuna was born the Strongest or if he made himself the Strongest, this is the response Sukuna gave to him:

When you think about it, how do you think the people around them would have reacted when the woman: who was supposed to birth two twins, gave birth to a single child instead? and that child had consumed his other twin in the womb itself?

No doubt people would’ve been horrified, disgusted and even revulsed. With the woman and her newborn child.

This would’ve led to their further ostracisation in the already very close-minded society. Unable to fend for herself and her newborn child, it must’ve been difficult for Sukuna’s mother to survive. I feel like somewhere along the line, Sukuna was left alone to fend for himself at an extremely young age. To protect himself from both Curses and Society alike.

This is why I believe Sukuna knows what true starvation, weakness and hunger feels like. Both in the emotional and literal sense. He was left without another person caring about him or his well-being, in a cut-throat period where it was “Fight or be killed”.

Powerful curses roamed all across Japan, nowhere was safe. Simply be strong, or you'll die. There's no room for weakness. And initially, a kid!Sukuna was weak, as anyone would be in the beginning when they're just starting out in this world. (and maybe, he didn't have much to eat, leading to long periods of starvation? :') )

I believe it is this debilitating hunger, and feeling of weakness that eventually led to Sukuna’s current Hedonistic mindset.

He’s essentially traumatised by it, and believes that it was his own weakness that led him to experience this sheer starvation. That he deserved to feel this way because he was weak then. Perhaps, the people around him were right, that as long as they have the power and strength to overcome anything, they’re free to do as they please; And there is nothing anyone else could do about it.

I feel like the irony here is that Sukuna himself, must’ve been a “weakling” before eventually rising the ranks to become History’s Strongest Sorcerer. This is also why he values Strength so much.

Ultimately, Sukuna has decided that there was nothing more important than being strong enough to fulfill your own desires. And “eating” is one of his most important desires. It’s his favourite thing to do, the one he derives the most pleasure out of. And like an animal, whose main focus is to consume, consume and consume. He too, simply consumes.

Most morals likely have no meaning to him. He doesn’t care who he hurts, what he does, as long as he’s able to get what he wants. And this isn’t limited to eating.

This is why people referring to Sukuna as a “Natural Disaster” is so befitting of him. Because Natural Disasters also don’t care about what or who they’re destroying, they just come and go, wreaking havoc appropriate for their nature and magnitude.

I believe Sukuna himself has said lines similar in nature, when talking to Kashimo:

Now I’m not sure how Sukuna perceives or even experiences this “Love”, because I think he has a rather very warped idea of it. I do think that this definition of love is similar to the one that Gojo also understands, but I don’t think he knows what “love” truly is. I’m not sure how I could comment on this, but I do think that Sukuna’s emotionally starved, whether he realises that or not.

Because, like Kashimo himself asked Sukuna “What is the point of dividing your soul into 20 different parts and then traversing across time if you’re satisfied with this?” we do not know the answer to that yet.

But many people have speculated that “Black Box” panels in JJK manga represent a curse (either self-inflicted or put by someone) on the speaker. Like, take a look over here where Sukuna reiterates the same dialogue, except it looks like he’s trying to reassure himself:

This once again shows that Sukuna has only ever strived for himself, in the same hedonistic fashion, to a very very extreme degree. It is possible that he's been lacking something, and he himself does not realise that he’s lacking it. Maybe it was this subconscious feeling, that led to Sukuna agreeing to Kenjaku’s plan of dividing his soul into 20 different parts, and to traverse across time as a Cursed Object.

Sukuna’s an incredibly complex character, and I’m excited to see where this goes. Gege has put extra care in the way he characterizes and depicts Sukuna, and again, I’m really sad that a lot of that characterization gets lost in translation. Still, I’m going to try my best to understand and get the most accurate feel of his character as I possibly can.

If you made it this far, Thank you for reading! And if you would like, please do leave a comment in the tags or replies because I would love to read what other people think of this and just Sukuna in general. I do not see a lot of people doing critical analysis of him, and a lot of his actions are seemingly swept under the rug. I don’t like that, so hopefully this contributes to people focusing more on Sukuna and his character. (/^v^)/ <3

[therealmrsgojo]

Last Kiss

And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are

pairing: geto suguru x reader summary: geto suguru had no remorse for his decisions, yet deep down, there was a flicker of regret; if only he had changed his mind - about leaving you behind. content: MDNI, NSFW, canon compliant/divergence, fem!reader, established relationship, aged up characters; will be 18+, oral fem!receiving, mating press, heartbreak, longing, angst, regrets, death, inspired by a song called last kiss (taylor s.) wordcount: 10.7k

The room was filled with a serene silence - two bodies lay intertwined on the soft bed.

The air was thick with the sweet scent of passion and love, mingling with the subtle fragrance of lavender from the scented candles that flickered softly on the nightstand.

Moon shone brightly on the horizon, glimmering their skin as if blessing their love. Limbs were entangled in a graceful dance, each move a symbol of pure affection for one another.

Heartbeat as one, the world around faded into nothingness; the clock on the bedside table displayed 1:58.

Geto Suguru lay there, his heart overflowing with contentment as he gazed into your sleeping face. The soft glow of the moon cast a gentle light on your features, enhancing your beauty and filling him with awe. "So beautiful,"

He held you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his and the softness of your skin under his fingertips. Memorizing the rhythm of your breath, its gentle cadence brings him tranquility.

He traced the outline of your face with his finger, taking in every detail as if he were seeing you for the first time.

Your eyes were closed and he longed to get lost in them; lips gently brushed against his skin, emitting a comforting warmth. His arms around you gripped tighter, as if afraid that you would slip away from him.

At that moment, he was wholly consumed by you. The world outside didn't exist, and all the worries and hardships that awaited him in his reality faded away, the bitter aftertaste of the curses he had consumed the day before long forgotten.

The only thing that mattered to him was you, and the way your sweet scent lingered in his nose.

He saw you open your eyes, squinting as you tried to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. "Suguru?" you mumbled sleepily. "Is it morning yet?"

"No, sweetheart," he replied softly, brushing your hair back and cupping your cheeks. "It's just past midnight. We can still rest."

You let out a contented sigh, grateful you could stay in his arms a little longer. "Hmm, good to know," he heard you chuckle. "Don't want to do anything yet or later."

Suguru grinned at your lazy comment, admiring your sleepy expression. "What a sleepy girl," he teased, tracing your closed eyes with his fingers. He couldn't resist the urge to touch you, to feel the smoothness of your skin against his fingertips again.

His hands moved down to your nose, gently bumping it before traveling further down to your lips. You somewhat knew what his next steps would be.

As his lips met yours, you felt a surge of pleasure coursing through your body. His kisses were always so gentle and tender, yet so passionate at the same time. You kissed him back, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his breath.

His tongue pushed against your lips, asking for entrance, and you eagerly obliged.

Your heart raced as you felt his lips move down to your neck, planting kisses and leaving behind small, purple bruises. "I'm sorry, baby," he slurred, his words muffled against your skin. "I need you so bad."

Now wide awake, you watched as he slowly tugged the duvet covers over your naked body, his lips trailing down to your chest.

He took one of your nipples in his mouth, his delicate licks making it harden. His other hand teased and tweaked the other nipple, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Relax, pretty girl," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to take care of you. You don't need to do anything."

Suguru continued to suck on your nipples, twirling his tongue around them and moaning softly. His cock grew hard as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled, his lips moving down to your stomach. His long fingers caressed your womanhood, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He positioned himself between your thighs, using his thumb to part your cunt and expose your clit. "Can I taste you, Y/N?"

"Yy-yes." You moaned as he began to lick and suck on your clit, his tongue moving in circles and causing waves of pleasure to wash over you. Your hands gripped the sheets as he continued to pleasure you, his fingers slipping inside you and making you writhe with pleasure.

He leaves your clit alone, but his tongue finds its way to the rest of your pussy. His tongue traces your folds, your slit, and the inside of your walls. Leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth. He was licking every drop.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, and then you were tumbling over it, your body convulsing with pleasure as Suguru continued to pleasure you with his mouth and hands.

"Mm, Suguru," as his skilled tongue continued to explore every inch of you, sending shivers down your spine.

Your eyes were now wide open, taking in every sensation as he delved deeper. His tongue continued lapping at your most sensitive areas, sending electrifying pulses of pleasure throughout your body.

As if that wasn't enough, his fingers began to apply gentle pressure, adding to the intensity. You felt your legs start to tremble uncontrollably as the pleasure built inside you. "Tastes so sweet."

You could feel yourself getting close to the brink of orgasm. Your breath quickened, and your cries became louder with each passing second. You knew that you were on the verge of release, and he seemed to sense it too.

"I'm close," With one final push, he pressed harder, driving you over and into a world of pure pleasure. As you exploded in ecstasy, your body shook with the force of your orgasm, and you cried out in delight.

Suguru continued to lavish and clean you, his tongue working tirelessly to taste your release. "So fcking sweet,"

Panting and gasping for breath, you feel him move his body on top of yours, his lips pressing against yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

You can feel your heart racing as your body responds to his touch. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you, and feel his body shudder with pleasure.

He lifts your legs and places them around his waist, slowly sinking his length inside you.

"My sweet girl," he whispered into your ear, his voice low and husky. "So warm." He moved in and out of you, his grunts and moans filling the air as he lost himself in the pleasure of your body.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrust harder and faster.

"Mm-more, Suguru," You arch your back and push your hips up to meet his, feeling his length still sliding in and out of you with increasing speed.

He responded by picking up the pace, repositioning himself deeper inside you, and placing your legs on top of his shoulders. He pressed you into the mattress, giving kisses to your face and neck as he continued to rail you, his movements becoming more urgent and intense.

"Shit, I'm going to come, doll." he cursed, his hands gripping your body tightly as he felt his orgasm building.

You could feel his length pulsing inside you, his release painting your walls white as he continued to move, putting back his spilled seed with each thrust making you gasp as you feel your second orgasm.

Basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, Suguru excused himself to the bathroom. You heard the sound of running water and assumed that he was cleaning himself up. A few moments later, he returned with a warm, damp cloth in his hand.

You watched as he approached you, eyes full of love and tenderness. His touch was gentle as he used the cloth to clean away any remnants.

He took his time, making sure to clean every inch of your body with utmost care.

He wiped away the last trace of sweat from your skin and looked up at you with a soft smile. "I love you so much," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too, Suguru," you replied, your voice filled with emotion. You reached out to stroke his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. You melted into the kiss, savoring the taste of him on your lips. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and crevice with a hunger that only you could satisfy.

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face as you pulled away. "I'm so lucky to have you," he said, his eyes shining with emotion.

"You earned it," you replied, a playful tease in your voice. "Especially after the way you fucked me like that." You couldn't help but grin as you saw him blush, the tip of his ears slightly red.

"You know I'll always give you everything you need, Y/N." he whispered.

Your boyfriend was the kind of lover who could make you forget your name with the way he moved, but despite his confidence in the bedroom, there was a surprising shyness to him that only you seemed to be able to coax out.

It was the little things you did that made him blush and stutter.

A gentle touch to the back of his neck, a whispered compliment in his ear, or even a coy smile as you looked up at him through your lashes - all of these things could turn him into a mess.

Seeing this vulnerable side of him was endearing for someone so confident and powerful in other aspects of his life.

"You always know just what to say," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn't ask for a better lover than you."

Suguru's smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead softly. "You're my everything," he murmured. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Geto Suguru stood by the VIP lounge, watching you with amusement as you drunkenly danced happily with Shoko in the middle of the crowded bar.

His eyes never left your figure, following your every move, making sure that you would not be approached by anyone else. With a drink in his left hand, he chuckled softly at your carefree dance, your face red from the alcohol, enjoying the bar's lively atmosphere.

His legs were spread out wide, giving off an air of confidence and strength that seemed to radiate throughout the room.

People glanced over at him every now and then, drawn to his commanding presence. But he paid them no mind, his attention solely focused on you.

His babygirl.

Satoru held his phone on his right side to record your fun moment with Shoko, capturing and laughing as he cheered for the joyous scene. "Look at them,"

It was one of your slip-away-from-Yaga-nights, sneaking out to enjoy a drink or two on a Friday evening, knowing there would be no classes the next day.

Satoru, being the wealthy boy he was, always sponsored your getaways, generously denying any complaints from the rest of you.

"Aren't you going to dance?" Satoru's teasing voice broke through the haze, returning Suguru to reality.

Suguru's watchful gaze shifted from you to Satoru; as he had been keeping a protective eye on you all night, the mere thought of losing sight of you even for a moment made him uneasy.

"I don't dance." Suguru replied nonchalantly, "You all know that, so stop bugging me."

The Gojo heir laughed heartily, undeterred by Suguru's dismissive response. "Well, good luck saying no to your Y/N." He then stood up, going to the bar to fetch more drinks. "But don't make out on the couch," He hollered back playfully.

As if on cue, you began walking towards him, a smile on your lips and a bounce in your step. You expertly navigated through the sea of people, avoiding collisions with ease.

Shoko, who had been walking with you, saw Satoru and went in the opposite direction with him, leaving the two of you alone.

He couldn't help but admire your beauty and grace as he watched you approach.

The way your dress hugged your curves, the way your hair cascaded down your back in loose waves, the way your eyes sparkled with mirth and mischief… It was all too much for him to handle.

"Hi, pretty girl," he said, his eyes drinking up your form.

He extends his hand towards you, planting a smile on your face. You gracefully accepted his invitation and seated yourself on his lap.

His sturdy hand wrapped around you, feeling the plush of your thighs on his. Unable to resist himself, he placed kisses on your cheeks.

"Come on, Suguru," you said, pouting at him. "I want to dance with you."

At first, he hesitated, unsure of his answer. However, when he met your gaze and saw the glimmer of hope in your eyes, all of his reservations disappeared.

He gave in to your request with a slight nod, hearing you cheer and pump your fist in the air dramatically. Sighing, he let you lead him onto the dance floor.

Cheers and laughter erupted from Satoru and Shoko, who were clapping and encouraging. It was a momentous occasion, as it was the first time that Geto Suguru had danced since the getaways started.

He wasn't much for dancing, but for you, he did.

You danced with each other, your body pressed against him as you led the taller man with your movements. The music was upbeat and lively, and you could feel the energy coursing through your veins.

A slower song filled the room, and Suguru's eyes locked onto yours. He felt more drawn towards you if that's even possible. You were a sight for sore eyes to him.

Placing his hands on your waist, he pulls you closer to him. He could feel his heartbeat fasten as the two of you lost yourselves in the moment, not caring about anyone else around.

He leaned in and brushed his lips against yours, sealing the moment with a kiss.

Geto Suguru laughed when he caught you blushing as his father shook your hand warmly. His mother stood next to you, her fingers tenderly caressing your hair as if you were already a part of their family.

"What a stunning young lady," his mother exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine admiration. Your cheeks turned a deeper shade of red at the heartfelt compliment.

After holding onto his father's hands for a moment, you finally let go and lowered yourself into a deep bow. Your eyes glistened with a sense of gratitude as you spoke. "It brings me great pleasure to meet you both. I cannot thank you enough for bringing Suguru into this world."

Suguru's heart constricted with overwhelming emotions as he listened to your sincere words. He was aware of your deep love for him, but your expression of gratitude towards his parents for bringing him into this world was truly heart-rending.

He tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill out and quickly blinked them away to avoid showing his vulnerability.

"Your words are too kind, my dear child," replied with a warm smile. "Please, let's go and enjoy the supper that I have prepared for the both of you." His mother beamed affectionately and led the way into the grand Geto estate, adorned with cozy furnishings and decor.

The delightful dinner was spent in blissful contentment, with a wide range of dishes laid out meticulously on the table. The tantalizing aroma of the scrumptious, home-cooked food permeated the air, making your taste buds tingle with anticipation.

The flavors were exquisite, each dish bursting with its unique blend of spices and seasonings. You savored every bite, feeling grateful for the love and care that went into every dish.

The lively atmosphere was filled with jovial conversations, jokes, and heartwarming stories, as people shared their experiences and feelings.

Throughout the evening, Suguru's mom shared stories about his childhood years, much to his embarrassment. But you listened intently, laughing and smiling as they recounted tales of his mischievous antics and rebellious streak.

The memories of this beautiful evening were etched in your heart forever, reminding you of the warmth and love surrounding you.

"Suguru, when do you plan to stop being a sorcerer?" His father's tone was abrupt, catching you off guard. It appeared that his father was not particularly fond of Suguru's sorcery.

"Let's just talk about that when I go back, Dad. Not now." Suguru then turned towards you and gestured towards the door, indicating it was time for you to leave. "Thank you for the dinner, Mom and Dad. We'll be going now."

His gaze drifted away from you, avoiding any potential conflict that may arise from the topic at hand. "I'm sorry for that, Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur.

You squeezed his hand, understanding his body language and respecting his wishes.

"I promise to visit you soon," You bid Suguru's mom farewell, hugging her tightly. You then bowed deeply to his father.

Suguru watched with a sense of delight as you walked hand in hand with his mom towards the door.

As you turned to leave, Suguru took your hand and whispered in your ear, "I love you. Thank you for coming with me and meeting them." You turned to face him, your eyes brimming with tears of happiness. "I love you too," you replied before leaning in for a tender kiss.

Unbeknownst to you, Suguru's mom had stepped back a few paces and were now watching your encounter with awe.

She could see how deeply in love Suguru was with you and how much you meant to him. She had always wanted their son to find someone who would love and cherish him, and she could see that he had found that in you.

Finally reaching the estate's gate, Suguru's mother called out to you, "Take care, dear. We'll be waiting for your next visit."

You turned around and smiled, replying, "See you soon,"

Strolling hand in hand through the calm and quiet streets, the radiant moonlight shone down the path ahead, enveloping the two enamored souls in a warm and welcoming aura.

The silver light beams cast a gentle yet enchanting glow over the lovers as they continued their romantic stroll under the starry night sky.

You gazed up at Suguru; you couldn't help but remark how much he resembled his mother. "I love your mom, you look so much like her, Suguru, you just managed to get your father's height," you said with a smile.

"I can't wait to meet them again, maybe I should bring them in return right? I want to meet them soon again, they just bring so much happiness to me, it's like - " Before you could finish your sentence, Suguru cut you off with a chaste kiss, his lips silencing your ramblings.

"Marry me once we graduate, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Geto Suguru leaned in and planted a tender kiss on the back of your hand. He looked deeply into your eyes as you whispered, "So, you're leaving?"

"It's just a two-day mission, doll," he reassured you, sensing your unease. He reached out and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soothing and reassuring. "Tengen-sama's Star Plasma Vessel needs some protection from us."

You nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation, and pulled him in for a warm hug. You didn't want to let him go, but you knew that duty called, and as Jujutsu sorcerers, your responsibilities always came first. No matter what.

"Okay, please update me every time," you whispered, trying to hide the fear in your voice.

He turned back to look at you, his intense gaze locking with yours. "I'll be back before you know it, baby. And when I return, let's cuddle for hours," he said, his voice filled with determination.

You watched him stroll away with his hands tucked in his pockets, a sense of anxiety creeping up within you. This was the first time he would be responsible for protecting someone and not just killing curses like he used to.

You knew him well, and you knew that the weight of responsibility always hung heavily on his shoulders, which worried you deeply.

What was the worst thing that could happen?

It had been a year since the Star Plasma Vessel had been brutally killed.

Geto Suguru was a changed man, a shadow of his former self. His infectious smile was replaced by a permanent frown, and his eyes lacked the spark that once made them shine.

He had become detached from the world around him, lost in his thoughts, and unable to find consolation.

Despite your best efforts to help him, to talk to him, and to make him open up, nothing seemed to work.

You tried to distract him with different activities, take him out for dates, and even cook his favorite meals, but he remained closed and distant. You watched as he drifted further and further away from you.

You thought that time would heal his wounds, but it only made things worse.

The lack of his appetite, his disconnection, and his quietness were all new to you. The man you once knew was now a stranger, and you struggled to understand what had happened to him.

The thought of meeting his parents again soon became a blurred line as you wondered how they would react to seeing their son in this state.

As time passed, you noticed a change in his behavior. His physical urges became more frequent, and he would often seek you out when you were alone in your room.

At first, you welcomed his advances, hoping it would help him forget his pain. But as time passed, you began to realize it was only a temporary relief.

Every time you tried to talk to him, he would shut you off with kisses and passionate lovemaking, leaving you feeling frustrated and confused. You longed to connect with him deeper, understand what he was going through, and help him heal.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

You hoped that one day, he would find his way back to the person he once was, the person who was open and vulnerable with you, who trusted you with his heart.

The small, cramped room was far from the lively and vibrant spaces you and your boyfriend, Suguru, usually frequented before this all happened.

Instead of the warmth and comfort of each other's company, you were both surrounded by an eerie silence that only emphasized the coldness of the room.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of being utterly alone in this space despite standing before him. The darkness enveloped everything around you, making it difficult to see anything clearly.

The stillness of the air was deafening, and you can't help but feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of your stomach.

As the tears started to form in your eyes, you spoke up, "Don't touch me, unless you tell me your problems."

"I don't have any problems, Y/N," Suguru lied, avoiding your gaze. He couldn't let you see how miserable he was.

To him, you were the only constant thing in his life, and he didn't want to taint that. He feared you would see him in a different light if he opened up to you, and he didn't want to risk losing you.

Despite his efforts to shield you from his pain, you persisted. You shouted at him, begging him to open up to you. "I know something went wrong," you cried. "Why won't you tell me what it is? I can help you, Suguru. Please, just let me in."

"Y/N," Suguru's voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't want to burden you with my problems. You have enough on your plate as it is."

"Didn't we promise we would be there for each other?" You sobbed, your voice choking on your tears. "I'm still here for you, Suguru. Can't you see that? Please, just let me help you. Do you even still love me?"

You were a woman who could easily challenge and counter Satoru's witty remarks without breaking a sweat. The sight of you, who was always so put-together, now crumbling in front of him.

Seeing you, the love of his life, in tears, broke him down like nothing else could. It was too much for him to handle.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as he cried. "Of course I do. I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. "I never meant to hurt you. I promise I'll try to make this go away, okay? Just give me some time."

His warm fragrance envelops you as you hold onto him, his embrace secure and unwavering.

In the midst of this moment, you can't help but ponder if the rift between the two of you will ever fully heal.

If only you knew.

Geto Suguru saw two small children, twins, who were bruised and beaten, tied up with ropes, and covered in dirt. He could hardly believe his eyes.

"What's going on here?" his voice trembled as he spoke.

"Isn't it obvious?" replied one of the villagers. "These two cause the incidents we've been experiencing lately."

Suguru was completely caught off guard by the accusation thrown his way. He was taken aback, stunned even. He simply couldn't fathom that these two small, innocent-looking children standing before him could be capable of anything that would warrant such harsh treatment.

There was a gut-wrenching feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach as he looked at the children once again. Memories of Haibara Yu and Riko Amanai flooded his mind.

He couldn't anymore.

"Everyone, let's step outside."

"Like hell he did!" Satoru's rage boiled over at the mention of Suguru's alleged actions. The principal, Yaga, was visibly stressed and struggled to explain the situation to the two of you.

"Satoru, I don't understand what's going on, either," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

You were hyperventilating, trying to process the news. "H-his parents?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of what Suguru had done was too much to bear.

"Y/N," Satoru's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you turned around to face him. His knuckles were white with anger, and you could see the fury in his eyes.

You turned away from the two men, your hand clutching your shirt as you tried to steady yourself. The last words of Suguru's mother echoed in your mind.

"Take care, dear. We'll be waiting for your next visit."

You had never seen them again after that day.

The thought of never seeing them again sent you reeling. The memories came back, and you fell to your knees, clutching your stomach as you almost vomited up the lunch you had just eaten. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to understand what was happening.

The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the sound of your sobs. Satoru's anger had dissipated, replaced by a look of concern and empathy for you. Yaga, too, looked worried, and you could see the weight of the situation on his shoulders.

"I'll talk to him," You said in between sobs. "Please,"

The unspoken truth answered you. Geto Suguru, the man you had trusted and loved for so long, was now a wanted criminal. He had been sentenced to death for his heinous actions, and he was nowhere to be found.

All you knew was that the situation was far from over and that the truth was yet to be revealed.

The hours passed, and you sent countless texts and missed calls to Suguru, demanding his answers.

Nothing came back from him.

You cried uncontrollably, holding yourself tightly as if to protect yourself from the harsh reality. Your face was now puffy and red from all the tears you shed, and you called out for his name, wishing that this was all a dream.

But deep down, you knew that he wouldn't come back. His parents wouldn't come back. If only you had known, you wouldn't let him go on his mission. You would have begged him to stay, to just spend the day with you.

But now, all you had was yourself, sitting amidst the dark walls of your room that you often shared with him and the weight of misery that surrounded you.

The only sounds you could hear were the sobs escaping your lips and the breath you no longer wanted to take.

Taking in the familiar surroundings that were once filled with hope that he would return to his old self like he promised you. But now, it all seemed impossible and shattered.

The sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. You hardly noticed the changing light, so consumed were you by your own turmoil. Only when darkness finally descended did you snap out of your reverie, realizing with a start that you had missed the entire day.

You heard a gentle knock on your door and the voices of Satoru and Shoko calling out to you. But you didn't want to face them, didn't want to let them see the chaos that was consuming you. So you turned them away, retreating further into yourself.

You felt utterly paralyzed by the weight of it all, unable to move or even speak. You can't even imagine a life without him.

Spending hours crying your heart out, your mind was left in a state of turmoil, plagued by endless what-ifs that seemed to offer no reprieve.

"Please let this all be a dream." Exhaustion finally took over and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the comforting embrace of sleep.

Geto Suguru approached your window with utmost care, his movements calculated and soundless.

The night was still and silent, except for the occasional rustle of leaves and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon cast a soft glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features and the intensity of his gaze.

As he arrived at your window, he paused, steadying his breathing as he peered inside. The sight of you curled up in a fetal position, hugging yourself tightly as you slept, caused his heart to stop.

He could feel the weight of guilt and remorse settling heavily on his chest, knowing that he was the source of your recent pain.

His eyes scanned your features, lingering on the faint glisten of dried tears still clung to your cheeks. It was a stark reminder of the hurt he had caused and the damage he had inflicted.

He struggled to control his own breath, forcing himself to inhale deeply in an attempt to calm his racing heart. The moment was fraught with tension and emotion, as he stood there silently, watching over you.

He felt a surge of protective instinct, wanting to shield you from further harm. But he knew that he was the last person who should be allowed to come near you.

His actions had caused irreparable damage, and he would have to endure the consequences.

"Y/N," He was captivated by the sight of you. His eyes lingered on every feature of your face, wanting to commit it all to memory. He listened to the sound of your breathing, a rhythm he had become so familiar with, and his heart clenched tightly at the thought of leaving you.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered as he knelt beside you. He wanted to hold you, to feel your warmth and your breath on his skin. He knew he couldn't, but his resolve weakened with each passing moment.

With heart-wrenching tenderness, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, his touch soft and warm. "My Y/N," he murmured, pulling back to gaze into your face. He ran his fingers gently over your cheek, forgetting his promise to himself not to touch you.

He knew that if you woke up, he would stay. He would change his mind, he knew, and there would be nothing to stop him once he saw the pleading look in your eyes. He knew that he would take you with him.

For a moment, he forgot about everything else. He forgot about the dangers that awaited him, the risks he had to take. All he could think about was you and his love for you.

You stirred slightly, causing his body to freeze again, but you remained asleep. He let out a small, defeated sigh. That's it.

"I love you." His lips wobbled slightly as he pressed one last kiss to your forehead, taking a few moments to savor your sweet scent before finally pulling away.

He stood up slowly, his hand trembling slightly as he placed an envelope on your desk with your name written on it.

His eyes roamed around the room, taking in every detail as if he wanted to engrave it forever in his memory. His gaze lingered on the Polaroids that adorned your mini-board, which you had collected over the years.

He picked one of them up, the edges worn from frequent handling, and his heart ached as he gazed at the picture of you blowing out your 19th birthday candle. It felt like he had been there only yesterday, by your side, celebrating your special day.

Suguru clutched it tightly in his hands, as if it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart. He placed the picture in his pocket and walked away, footsteps echoing through the empty room.

He fought the urge to turn around, knowing that if he did, he would run back to you as fast as he could. But he forced himself to keep walking, to leave you behind, because he knew there wouldn't be a way to repair the damage he had wrought.

"Suguru!" The sound of your own voice echoed in the silence of the night, waking you up abruptly. You gasped for air, your heart beating faster than ever before. You tried to slow your breathing, but it was difficult.

You felt like you were suffocating, like the air around you was too heavy to breathe with. You glanced around the room, trying to grasp the reality of your pain. The darkness made it impossible to see anything clearly, but you could feel the tears streaming down your face.

"Fuck." Realization hit you hard. You knew that you weren't dreaming, that this was real. Sobs escaped your throat, and you tried to muffle the sound with your hands. "When will this end?"

In the dim light, you noticed a white envelope on the bedside table, and your heart skipped a beat as you saw the name written on it in familiar handwriting.

It was Geto Suguru's; you knew he was in your room.

You couldn't believe it. You bolted out of bed, your heart racing with fear and panic. You ran to the window and looked outside, hoping against hope that you could catch a glimpse of him, but there was nothing there except the darkness of the night.

"No, no, no." Your anger and frustration boiled over as you thought about how you could have missed him. "Why couldn't you wake me up?" you shouted, tears streaming down your face. You felt the weight of your helplessness and began to cry uncontrollably.

You check the hallway, barefoot and desperate for any sign of him. You know it's a long shot, but you can't help it. After a few moments, you realize that he's not there. You feel defeated and broken as you walk back to your room, locking the door behind you.

You sat down at your desk, wiping away your tears with shaking hands. You knew what you had to do—you had to read the letter. But the thought of it filled you with dread, for it would only mean that you accepted the fact that he was not yours anymore.

Your heart was heavy with dread, and you opened the envelope with trembling hands.

My dearest Y/N, I cannot express the depth of my love for you. You are my soulmate, my partner in every sense of the word. I have never and will never love anyone else as deeply and purely as I love you. You have been the light that shines in my darkness, the reason for my existence, and the beating of my heart. Every day, I thank the universe for bringing you into my life. You have been my rock, my support system, and my confidante, and I cannot imagine my life without you. However, as it pains me to say this, I can no longer ignore the fact that I am not the right person for you. You deserve so much more than what I can offer you. You deserve someone who can give you the love and support you need, be there for you, hold your hand in public, and stand beside you. I'm afraid that I am not that person. I am now a criminal. I know that you have been patient with me and endured my flaws with grace and kindness. You have done so much for me, but deep down, I know I cannot offer you the life you deserve. It breaks my heart to leave, but I want nothing but the best for you, and if that means letting you go, then I will do it. My greatest wish is that you will find the happiness you deserve. Please know that I will always cherish the memories that we have shared and that you will always hold a special place in my heart. I am sorry that I have burdened you so much with my decisions. I hope that one day, you will find it in your heart to forgive me, my sweet girl. You don't deserve to live a hard life with me. I will always love you. It will be only you. So, with a heavy heart, I say goodbye. Please know that I will always cherish the moments we shared, and I will always hold a special place for you in my heart. I can only hope that I will love you again in another life. Goodbye.

You hold the letter in your trembling hands, feeling your grip tighten around the parchment as if trying to hold on to the words written on it.

The texture of the paper feels delicate as if a mere touch could crumple it. You draw the letter closer to your chest, trying to steady your breathing, but you can't help the overwhelming emotions.

You whisper his name softly as if he's standing right beside you. His words flow through your mind like a gentle stream, each sentence etched deeply into your heart and soul. You can feel the weight of his love and the ache of his departure in every word, as if he's pouring his heart out on the page.

"You idiot man," This might be the last time you hear from him, and the thought tears at your heartstrings. The reality of the situation is hard to accept, but you know that you must face it.

You struggle to come to terms with the reality of the situation, but one thing is clear: there is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love.

Shoko was frantically searching for her lighter but to no avail. Just when she thought she had lost it, a voice interrupted her.

"Need a light?" Geto Suguru asked, walking towards the brown-haired woman. "Hey."

She was surprised by his sudden appearance and jolted lightly. She looked up at him with one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation.

He stood beside the brown-haired woman as she lit her cigarette. "Just testing my luck, I guess," he replied, his eyes fixed on her.

Shoko took a drag from her cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Luck with what?" she asked, eyes asked for an explanation, and he nodded in agreement.

Suguru stood beside her and returned her gaze. His eyes were pleading, and he spoke with urgency.

"Please keep me up with her," he said. "Without anyone else knowing,"

Shoko's eyes widened in surprise. "And why would I do that? She's suffering," she pointed out, limiting her words; she knew who he was exactly talking about, and she hesitated momentarily.

Suguru's face softened as he looked at her. "She's the strongest woman I know, and I know she'll overcome this. With you and Satoru around, she'll forget me. But I can't do that. I'll never survive without knowing if she's okay," he confessed. "You know this is for the best for her."

Shoko listened to Suguru in silence, considering his request. Her mind was racing, thinking of the possibilities. "What if she finds another?"

It was indirect, but Suguru knew clearly what she was referring to.

"It'll kill me, Shoko."

After a few moments, she took a deep breath and nodded. "One update, a year," she agreed, staring at him with pity.

The statement made Suguru smile, and he thanked her profusely while she dialed on her phone.

"Hey, Gojo? I found Geto,"

The news of Gojo and Shoko's encounter with Geto Suguru came like a bolt from the blue, leaving you feeling helpless and anxious.

In the aftermath of the letter, you found yourself sequestered in your room for several days, grappling with a profound sense of heartbreak. The weight of the world seemed to be crashing down on your shoulders.

Suddenly, a familiar voice reached your ears. Shoko's voice called out to you from behind the closed door. The sound was clear and distinct, and you could feel the urgency in her tone.

"Y/N," she called out with a hint of worry, "We're all concerned about your well-being and want to make sure you're okay. If you don't respond and open the door by tonight, we're breaking in to check on you."

As you gradually uncoiled from your fetal position, you managed to sit up slowly, feeling the weight of exhaustion upon your shoulders. You rubbed your bleary eyes, trying to shake off the somnolence that had clung to you.

It was only then you realized just how much time had passed. The days had blurred together, and you had lost track of it.

Standing up, you walked towards the mirror in your room, hoping to catch a glimpse of yourself; Your reflection only served to reinforce the sadness that you felt inside. You looked pale, devoid of any colors of life, with dark circles under your eyes.

Facing the world without Suguru was daunting.

You had previously been crying for what felt like an eternity, tears streaming down your face as you tried to process the overwhelming emotions that were consuming you. Your mind was a jumbled mess, thoughts and worries racing through your head at lightning speed.

Your hair was messy, strands sticking out in directions and tangled. You couldn't bring yourself to care about your appearance, not when your heart felt like it was breaking into a million pieces.

It was hard to believe that everything had been relatively normal just a few days ago and that you might never see him again.

Although you did not agree with his actions, you still held a tiny understanding of his imperfections, and you made it a point to honor his choices, despite any reservations you may have had.

You felt like you were drowning, unable to find solid ground to stand on. An absolute wreckage.

You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to compose yourself before facing the outside world. You knew that Gojo and Shoko were also struggling hard, and you didn't want to add to their worries.

Gathering what's left of your courage, you slowly twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open. To your surprise, Gojo was standing right before you; his tired eyes widened in shock at the sight of you.

Despite your pain, you managed to muster a small smile for your friend, hoping to convey some semblance of normalcy. But as soon as you looked into his eyes, you knew he could see right through your façade.

You cannot hide it from him, for he knows it all too well.

You felt a lump form in your throat as you struggled to hold back the tears. You knew you couldn't put on a brave face for long, so you decided to retreat to your room. "Hey, come in."

Their frantic footsteps echoed behind as they followed you closely and shut the door after entering. They were afraid that you would change your mind and lock yourself up again.

The sound of your shallow breaths echoed in the quiet room. You tried to control your breathing, to hide the pain that was eating away at your insides, but it was no use. Your body shook with each inhale, and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Um,"

"You don't have to tell us anything," Gojo's face showed concern as he approached you, his warm hand resting on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Just let us be with you."

You then felt Shoko's arms wrap tightly around your torso, pulling you into a sideways hug. You could feel her relief in the way her body relaxed against yours, and you heard her whisper, "Thank goodness." It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into her embrace, to feel the warmth and comfort that her presence brought.

It was difficult to express the pain and sadness you were all feeling, but you knew that you needed to talk about it, process your emotions, and find some semblance of peace.

"He left a letter," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "He said goodbye." The words caught in your throat, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It was still so fresh, the wound still so raw.

As you spoke, Satoru and Shoko listened intently, their expressions pained and sympathetic. It was clear that they were feeling the same things as you, struggling to come to terms with losing their friend.

"Oh, Y/N." And then, as if a dam had burst, the emotions flooded. Tears streamed down your faces, and you clung to each other, seeking solace in one another's embrace.

"Don't leave us, too," Satoru whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. It was a sentiment you all shared, a fear that in the wake of Suguru's defect, you would also lose each other in the same way.

The three of you cried and hugged together, the memories of your time with Suguru flooding back.

It was supposed to be the four of you, and now the group felt incomplete, a hole left where Suguru should have been.

As the tears subsided and the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the world, you all sat silently, lost in your thoughts.

It was a bittersweet moment filled with sorrow, anguish and hope.

As the night wore on, three teenagers huddled together in bed, their eyes heavy with exhaustion. The sound of their sobs echoed in their ears, a constant reminder of the harsh verity they were trying to escape.

They clung to each other tightly, seeking consolation and reassurance in each other's presence, hoping to find some respite from the pain that threatened to consume them.

Sleep eventually overtook them, and they drifted into a fitful slumber, still clutching each other tightly as they sought refuge from the outside world.

"Marry me once we graduate, Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

The night air was cool and crisp as Geto Suguru stood in front of you, his voice wavering in nervousness as he posed his question.

Under the dim light of the lampost, the pavement seemed to come alive with a warm and gentle radiance, casting a soft glow on the surroundings.

The subtle interplay of light and shadows created a dreamy atmosphere as if the world around you were a painting that had come to life.

You looked into his eyes, getting lost in the hues of his pretty orbs, and teased him, "Are you sure? Well, I mean, I just met your parents, and you haven't met mine yet."

But Suguru was resolute, his velvet voice smooth as he replied, "I can't imagine anyone else being my wife or the mother of my children." As he cupped your warming cheeks, the mere mention of children caused your heart to race.

You semi-shouted at him, pouting as you tried to swat his hands away from your face, "Hey! I haven't even agreed yet, and you're already talking about children!"

Suguru's eyes crinkled with amusement as he gazed at your blushing face. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, his body melding with yours. "And I'll get us a lovely house," he said softly, "one that you can decorate to your heart's content. We'll even build a little tea shop in the backyard since you've always had a talent for them."

His warm breath tickled your ear as he continued, "We'll have a beautiful garden, too, and we can adopt a dog or two if you'd like." Suguru's voice was filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. "And then," he said, "Satoru and Shoko will come to visit us with little Y/Ns running around in the backyard."

Overwhelmed with emotions at his endearing statements, you hugged him back tightly, feeling your eyes tear up at the imagery he laid out for you. "S-Suguru,"

Maybe we can retire being sorcerers before we turn 30?" he suggested, a hopeful note in his voice. He reached out to wipe away the tears that had formed at the corners of your eyes, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"I promise I'll earn as much as I can so you will live a comfortable life," he continued, his voice tinged with determination. "You'll never lift your finger to work again, and I'll be the happiest man in the world to watch your hair turn white as we grow old together."

You felt the warmth of his lips on yours; tears streamed down your cheeks. He pulled back slightly and looked down at you, chuckling as he teased, "You're such a crybaby."

"Stop it," You smiled through the tears and added, "Fine. I'll marry you."

Geto Suguru's heart raced as he sat up in bed, his mind still reeling from the vivid dream that had just jolted him awake. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, and he wiped them away with a trembling hand.

It was a memory he had once cherished, but now it haunted him, reminding him of the promises he had made and broken.

In his dream, he had seen you again - see the way your eyes sparkled with joy and contentment as he made promises to you that he knew he could never keep. However, now it all seemed like a distant memory, as the happiness that once adorned your face was nowhere to be seen.

He knew that he would never have you in his life again.

The dreams he had once held dear were now shattered - the children he had imagined with you would never be born, the cozy home where he had envisioned handling your tea shop would never be, or play with the dogs he had dreamed of. Satoru and Shoko, the names that once brought a smile to his lips, now only brought pain.

As he lay there, the sight of you growing old beside him played out in his mind. He knew that his words were now hollow promises, and the weight of this realization crushed his heart into a million pieces.

Tears flowed down his face as his body shook with sobs, and he cried out your name repeatedly. His regret and the realization that he could never unbind his past missteps consumed him.

His heart ached, longing to turn back the clock and make things right, but he knew it was impossible.

Utahime greeted you with a bright smile, wearing a birthday cap on her head. "Happy 22nd birthday, Y/N!" she exclaimed as she approached you with a cake.

Standing beside her, Gojo Satoru clapped his hands in triumphant celebration, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. He reached over and swiped his fingers across the luscious cake, leaving a trail of frosting on your cheek.

"Gojo!" Utahime chided him, though the playful antics of your friends brought a smile to your face as you laughed along. Utahime scolded him playfully as you laughed at the playful antics of your friends.

"Gojo Satoru," you shouted, trying to avoid his teasing attacks. "I swear Megumi is more mature than you are."

Shoko, who had been standing nearby, chimed in with a chuckle. "That goes without saying," she said, shaking her head in amusement. "Y/N," she continued, gesturing towards your house's backyard. "Come with me, I have something to show you."

You smiled at her and followed her, still feeling the effects of Satoru's teasing. After graduating, you had recently bought a house, and you were finally able to call a place your own and create a space that reflected your unique personality and style.

Although the memories of your school days will remain etched in your mind forever, it is difficult for you to fathom the idea of living there again.

You took each step, and the ends of your shoulder-length hair gently brushed against the sides of your face. You remembered how it used to be longer, reaching down to the small of your back, but you had bravely decided to chop it off for a more manageable length. As you walked, you could feel your heart beating faster and faster, almost as if it was trying to escape from your chest.

Even though you were well aware of what would happen, the anticipation of the event still never failed to make you feel nervous.

Shoko approached you with a stunning bouquet of fresh crimson flowers, their sweet fragrance wafting towards you and filling your senses with delight. She spoke in a hushed tone while handing them over to you, "He says happy birthday."

Gratefully, you accepted the gift and looked at Shoko with a warm smile. "Thank you so much, Shoko," you said, admiring the vivid colours and delicate petals. After taking a deep breath to savour the sweet scent, you carefully cradled the flowers and said, "I'll put these in a vase first and follow you."

You ascended the stairs, your feet creaking against each step. You reached your room and unlocked the door with a sense of relief. On your desk stood a vase you had prepared earlier in the day. As you carefully arranged the flowers, your eyes were drawn to a framed picture resting against the wall.

It depicted a black-haired man, his hair tied up in a man-bun, grinning widely as he posed with you in the photo. Your heart ached as you gazed at the picture, memories flooding your mind and threatening to spill over in tears. You felt a pang of longing in your chest, wanting to reach out and tell him how much he still meant to you.

"Not today, girly," you told yourself firmly, blinking rapidly to dismiss the tears.

This has become an annual ritual since the day of your 20th birthday. Without fail, every year, a fresh and vibrant bouquet of stunning red roses would arrive at your doorstep, always at the same time, like clockwork. The gesture was an act of Geto Suguru, the man who still has your heart.

You couldn't help but wonder what he was up to now. Did he ever think of you the way you thought of him? You pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that dwelling on them would only lead to heartache.

You knew instinctively not to question the gesture, particularly since Shoko was involved. For she might be in trouble of being in contact with him.

The first time it happened, the gesture moved you to tears, but as the years passed, it grew into something you anticipated with great excitement, eagerly looking forward to the arrival of the cherished bouquet.

Shielding oneself from harsh reality is often the safest and most prudent course of action. By not acknowledging the truth, one can prevent oneself from being hurt by it.

Deep in your heart, you just knew that it was his way of expressing his eternal love for you, and it never failed to make your heart flutter with emotion.

"I hope you're doing okay." As you finished arranging the flowers, you stepped back to admire your handiwork, smiling as you whispered, "Thank you, Suguru."

His name is bitter on your lips once again, with your wound that cannot be mended even with time; tears start welling up in your eyes as you turn around and walk towards your door to be with your awaiting friends.

Geto Suguru felt his heart racing as he paced back and forth in his dimly lit room.

Tomorrow would be your 25th birthday, and he was eagerly waiting for his instructions about your flowers, which he usually gave by now. But for the past couple of days, he hadn't heard back from Shoko, who was responsible for delivering them to you.

Despite trying to contact her several times through messages and missed calls, Suguru received no response, which made him increasingly anxious. He couldn't help but wonder, what if he failed to send the flowers this year? It was the only thing he allowed himself to do for you, and now it seemed like it was falling apart.

He sat on the bed, staring longingly at your smiling face on his phone screen, and suddenly, Shoko's name flashed on the screen. He quickly accepted the call and put the phone to his ear. "Shoko, I've been--"

"Geto," Shoko cut him off, her voice trembling with emotion. She took a deep breath and said, "I apologize for not getting back to you. Things have been hectic for me. I'm sorry to tell you this, but…she's gone."

The words hit Suguru like a ton of bricks. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Gone?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you mean, gone?"

"It was a special grade curse on one of her missions." The two individuals had a quiet moment before the connection was abruptly cut off.

The phone slipped from Suguru's trembling hand and hit the floor with a deafening clang. The sound reverberated through the barren room like an ominous bell tolling in the distance.

Overwhelmed by a visceral surge of emotions, Suguru collapsed onto his knees, struggling to catch his breath as he wept uncontrollably.

His body convulsed with each convulsive sob, and he clenched his fists so tightly that the tendons on the back of his hands stood out like cords.

"No, no!" He clenched his fists so tightly that sweat started trickling down his palms. "Bb-baby." He had convinced himself that leaving you behind was the right decision, but as he cried, he wished he could turn back time and take you with him instead.

Geto Suguru stood solemnly at the freshly placed grave, feeling the weight of his grief like a physical ache in his chest. The trees swayed gently in the background, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze, creating a peaceful atmosphere that was at odds with his pain.

With a heavy heart, he reached out to wipe off the dirt from the marker, making sure to clean the words engraved on it.

Y/N L/N Too well loved to ever be forgotten. May you rest in peace, angel.

Sitting beside the grave, he took a deep breath and reached for the bento box he had brought. "I've bought your favourite food, my sweet girl," he said softly, holding back his tears. With trembling hands, he opened the box and placed it gently in the grave.

Suguru continued to speak, his voice quivering with emotion, "That's absolutely correct. You are an angel, my beautiful angel." he said, his voice filled with sadness.

"I'm sorry," he added, his voice choking on his tears. "I'm sure you hated me so much. I deserve that for leaving you behind… and I'll live the rest of my life in regret because I should've snatched you away, baby."

His tears flowed freely now as he continued to speak. "Mimiko and Nanako would have loved you," he said, his voice breaking. "I told them about how kind you were, and they always admired your pictures in my room. It was painful, but it must have been more painful for you. I hate myself for allowing this. I hate myself twice as much as you hated me."

Suguru put his hands on his face, sobbing uncontrollably. All the pent-up years of restraining himself from approaching you after receiving a single picture from Shoko had freed themselves, as had all the pent-up frustrations about how he missed and longed for you.

"Can you hear me, baby?" he asked, his voice barely audible. I'm so sorry, okay? This is all my fault. This happened because of me. It was all me."

He paused for a moment, wiping away his tears. "Did they put socks on your shoes?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "I know how whiny and cold you get if you don't have them while you sleep there."

The moment those words left his mouth, fresh tears welled up in his sorrowful eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

The gentle wind carried the scent of blooming flowers and the sun's warmth as it caressed the tear-streaked face of Geto Suguru, who stood heartbroken.

"I love you," With a quivering voice, he whispered, "I love you forever." His words were heavy with grief, and his heart was filled with a sense of loss that seemed infinite.

Gojo Satoru spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Suguru."

Geto Suguru looked up, clutching his bloodied arms tightly. He felt the pain surging through his body, a constant reminder of his injury. As he watched the white-haired man approach him and sit down, he braced himself for the worst.

He deserves it.

"She never hated you," Gojo whispered, his words cutting through the silence. Suguru stared at him in disbelief, wondering how he could be so naive.

He might have made you cry almost every night, but Gojo knew the truth: "She loved you until her last breath."

Suguru's eyes widened in surprise, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest; hurting him more than his physical one.

He knew that he had wounded you deeply and always thought you hated him for it. But now, hearing Gojo's words, he realized he had been wrong all along.

Tears started to well up in his eyes, and he struggled to keep them from falling. He had always loathed himself for what he had done to you, but now, for the first time since he parted ways from you, he felt happy even at the steps of his death.

I want to see you soon Y/N. I'll see you soon.

He smiled at his best friend, replying the last words in his mouth. "At least hit me with some curses at my end."

I'll see you soon.

note: I contemplated a lot about whether I should write this or not, knowing there are tons of cannon stories like this rewritten for him. Geto Suguru's story was just too much. Thinking that he was bound to his demise from the start still makes me emotional. His impact on me made me mourn for him - and that enough was my deciding factor to write his story in my own version.

thank you for taking the time to read this,

Aurora.

[theresattrpgforthat]

Hello!! Do you know any TTRPGs surrounding translation or languages? 😊 (thanks for all your work btw!!!)

THEME: Language / Translation Games

Hello friend! As someone who studied linguistics in university, I absolutely love talking about all of the funky things languages do! I hope these recommendations tickle your fancy!

Dialect, by Thorny Games.

Dialect is a game about an isolated community, their language, and what it means for that language to be lost. In this game, you’ll tell the story of the Isolation by building their language. New words will come from the fundamental aspects of the community: who they are, what they believe in, and how they respond to a changing world.

Dialect uses a deck of cards to help minimize the amount of choices you have to make in character creation, by dealing three cards to each player and having the players choose one from just those three. You track the change of your language over a series of turns, using prompts to help you navigate the conversations that arise in your community as the world around them changes.

Dialect has been very highly regarded as a game that really delivers on the experience that it promises. The grief that accompanies language death really shines through this game, so if you want to combine the wonder of creation with the pain of losing something so integral to your sense of being, this is the game for you.

Tiny Frog Wizards, by @prokopetz

You have mastered the secret arts of sorcery

The very primordial energies of creation and destruction are yours to wield as you will.

You are two inches tall.

Tiny Frog Wizards is a game about tiny frogs, wielding magic using the power of words. When you want to do something magical, you will roll somewhere between 1-3 dice, and use the values of your rolled dice to determine how the range, magnitude, and control of your magic.

What’s important in terms of this game recommendation is the Control aspect, because how well you are able to wield your magic depends on how many words you are able to use to make things happen! It’s a lot easier to use a spell with precision if you have enough words to detail where you want a magical pen to write, or what you want to throw a tiny magic missile at. Not enough words? Then the GM has license to cause some humorous side effects, or, if you roll poorly enough, cause your spells to really go off the rails.

If you like games where you need to choose your words carefully, Tiny Frog Wizards is worth checking out - especially since it’s in free playtest!

Xenolanguage, by Thorny Games.

Xenolanguage is a tabletop role-playing game about first contact with alien life, messy human relationships and what happens when they mix together.  At its core, you explore your pivotal relationships with others on the mission as you uncover meaning in an alien language. The game gives a nod to soulful sci-fi media like Arrival, Story of Your Life and Contact, but tells its own story. It’s a game for 2-4 players in 3-4 hours.

In Xenolangauge, you play as a group of people bound together through a shared past with unsettled questions. Your task is to understand why the aliens have come and what they are trying to tell us. You will soon discover the key to understanding lies in your memories together.

This is definitely an in-person game, as it is meant to come with a modular channeling board that will provide you with alien symbols that you will use to help you interpret messages. This is more than a game about language, it’s about relationship, shared memories, and connection.

Xenolanguage was kickstarted at the beginning of this year, but you can check out the above link to pre-order the game if this sounds interesting to you!

Star-Spawned, by Penguin King Games.

One unearthly night, a ray of colourless light descended from the stars, and under its warping radiance, creatures unlike any the world has ever seen were born. They do not know the world, and they do not know themselves. Unfortunately for the world, they're quick learners!

Star-Spawned is a GMless, oneshot-oriented tabletop RPG in which you don't know what your own traits do when play begins. The names of each group's stats are randomly generated using morpheme chaining, and characters are created while having absolutely no idea what they mean; figuring that out forms the greater part of play.

Star-Spawned is more about self discovery than it is about language, but the use of morpheme-chaining in character creation is intriguing to me. You will randomly roll three pieces of a word, and then chain them together to create a unique Facet, available to the players as stats. These Facets don’t have a meaning when the game begins - you need to play to find out what they mean. If you like playing around with semantics - the meaning of words - this might be a game for you.

Degenerate Semantics, by Mikael Andersson.

Degenerate Semantics is a role-playing game for 1-5 players and one Game Master (GM). The players will each portray a character who live in Emmaloopen's poverty-stricken lower city. They are young, wild, ambitious, and independent. This way of life is threatened by other factions, and the players will need to have their characters work together to survive and thrive.

In the process of playing the game, the players and GM will define and flesh out a language called Bandethal. A collection of street terms and slang, Bandethal is used both as a way to talk openly about illicit activities without alerting authorities and to establish street cred. The terms are liberally mixed in with plain English, or when the language is mature enough, can be used entirely on its own. The characters' success is in large part based on how proficiently the players wield the language.

A friend of mine ran this game for me three or four years ago, and it’s been sitting in the back of my head ever since. Degenerate Semantics was created for a Game Chef competition in 2014, and has remained in the same state since then. I don’t think there’s any more work being done on it, but the game is there for anyone who wants to give it a go - and while there’s a setting that comes with the game, that setting is highly flexible, depending on what your group is interested in. Our group decided to use a lot of gardening metaphors, and undertook a plant-based heist as our act of rebellion! If you want a game about the power that language can give a tightly-knit group, this is the game for you.

I've Also Recommended...

DROWWORD, by Ursidice.

[tarot-swords-gemini]

Pick A Pile: What seductive mysteries surround your love life? (Reality check)

The images are not mine! I found them one Pinterest! If you know the artists mention them!!

Whenever you feel ready pick the pile that feels close to you but don't overthink it for intuition doesn't take long!If this post is not for you scroll, don't press your spirit to read one, it might not match your situation! Some parts might be 18+, so if you are not, scroll.

💌My type of readings are brutally honest for l used to struggle with it myself; so now I only command from the spirit to tell me the truth through protection, but always the truth, I like it or not, so I warn you that I am like that.

The symbols are: Veil, Crystal Ball, Black Cat, Moonlight, Rose Petals, and Book.

Like & Reblog my pinned post (you can click my profile and do that, for it will help me to make a living from it) for it will bring the right people to my page!! thank you! And may you be safe, happy and blessed!

1. Veil:

Cards: Seven of Swords, Eight of Wands, Three of Pentacles, Death with Strength, Ten of Pentacles, King of Swords, Nine of Cups with Magician, Eight of Cups, Page of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles (bottom: Six of Swords, Empress, Tower)

💌Message: The seductive mysteries surrounding your love life involve a mix of transformation and hidden dynamics. The Seven of Swords suggests deceit or hidden motives, while the Eight of Wands indicates rapid changes or communication; work on your intuition and expect different types of people to come to you and you will intuitively know who are the ones for you. The Three of Pentacles points to collaboration and teamwork, suggesting that someone might be working behind the scenes, or you might meet someone in a place where you work or do some sort of collaboration with others. Death with Strength indicates major transformation and resilience, hinting at significant changes and the need for inner strength, again, work in your intuition, you will meet many people and not all of them are right for you even if it looks like it. The Ten of Pentacles shows long-term stability, but combined with the King of Swords, it implies that there are serious, perhaps intellectual or strategic aspects involved, trust your rationality when it comes to “judging” people. The Nine of Cups with the Magician suggests that there are deep-seated desires and manifestations at play, you have intense desires and they will be manifested in the near future as long as you work on your intuition. The Eight of Cups and Page of Pentacles reflect moving on from past issues and new beginnings in order for this energy to settle in your life. The Seven of Pentacles highlights ongoing investments and patience. At the bottom, the Six of Swords, Empress, and Tower reveal that while there is growth and nurturing potential, there could also be sudden upheavals or revelations that shake your current understanding in order to make you understand what your desires really mean to you. Overall, expect transformation and a seductive mystery that should be treated with intuition and logic so you don’t end up with the wrong person.

Keywords: Deceit, changes, hidden motives, 333, collaboration, transformation, resilience, desires, manifestations, moving on, candles, journal, new beginnings, patience, upheaval.

—-

2. Crystal Ball:

Cards: Eight of Wands, Four of Cups, Eight of Swords with King of Swords, Chariot, Empress, Four of Pentacles, Nine of Wands, Two of Swords, Five of Swords, Sun, Emperor (bottom: Page of Cups, Six of Wands, Eight of Cups)

💌Message: The seductive mysteries surrounding your love life reveal a complex mix of desires and “important” obstacles. The Eight of Wands indicates swift developments, but the Four of Cups and Eight of Swords with King of Swords suggest feelings of dissatisfaction and mental blocks, with possible intellectual or communication issues. This is a moment where you can use to describe to yourself what you really want and get to know the nature of your character. These obstacles serve as freedom for you, for they give you time to think. The Chariot and Empress show a powerful drive and nurturing potential, yet the Four of Pentacles and Nine of Wands reveal holding back and defensiveness; you are capable of loving but you think that you can’t be loved, this is a source of negativity that you need to heal soon. The Two of Swords and Five of Swords highlight conflict and indecision, suggesting that unresolved issues or competing interests might be at play. Mental issues might be present here. The Sun and Emperor indicate clarity, success, and strong foundations, but the Page of Cups, Six of Wands, and Eight of Cups at the bottom reflect a mix of emotional offers, recognition, and the need to move past previous disappointments. Disconnect from your fears and let your heart guide your way for once!

Keywords: Swift developments, dissatisfaction, mental blocks, drive, nurturing, defensiveness, conflict, boots, indecision, success, pizza, emotional offers, moving on.

—-

3. Black Cat:

Cards: World, Wheel of Fortune, Magician, Fool with Six of Wands, Nine of Cups, Four of Pentacles, Five of Wands with Hanged Man, Hierophant, Ten of Swords (bottom: Nine of Pentacles, Four of Pentacles, Nine of Swords)

💌Message: The seductive mysteries surrounding your love life involve significant fast transformations and evolving dynamics. The World and Wheel of Fortune indicate major changes and cycles of fortune, while the Magician and Fool with Six of Wands reveal a blend of manifestation, new beginnings, and public recognition. You are about to manifest someone you want! The Nine of Cups suggests deep personal satisfaction, but the Four of Pentacles and Five of Wands with Hanged Man show a struggle with holding on and internal conflict; accept that you deserve the life you want and let it happen!! The Hierophant points to traditional values or commitment, whereas the Ten of Swords highlights painful endings or betrayals. What ended was necessary, don’t let it impact you anymore. The Nine of Pentacles, Four of Pentacles, and Nine of Swords at the bottom emphasize issues of independence, holding onto past hurts, and anxiety — let your desire come to life and ignore any whispers of the past; you’re not there anymore and you will never return there because your path is more beautiful than you think! Overall, there are themes of both new opportunities and unresolved conflicts influencing your love life, with a high chance of manifesting what you want — just make sure to enjoy it and not detach from it once it comes and neglect it.

Keywords: Transformation, cycles, manifestation, 333, angels, white color, new beginnings, recognition, social media, new follower, satisfaction, conflict, holding on, commitment, looking back, independence, anxiety and toast.

---

4. Moonlight:

Cards: Justice, Hierophant, Ace of Wands, Magician, World, Devil with Seven of Pentacles, Knight of Swords with King of Wands, Two of Swords, Three of Pentacles (bottom: Temperance, Queen of Wands)

💌Message: The seductive mysteries surrounding your love life reveal a complex blend of balance, cravings, and the necessity to change your perspective quickly. Justice and Hierophant highlight themes of fairness and commitment, indicating that traditional values and moral judgments play a significant role in your life for good and bad reasons. The Ace of Wands and Magician signify new, passionate beginnings and the power to manifest desires. You need to be clear with what you want and let it come to life. The World suggests completion and fulfillment, but the Devil with Seven of Pentacles warns of potential bondage or delays due to unresolved issues or unhealthy attachments, so here to me it means that a cycle in your life is about to end and you will need to accept it. You might need to read the previous pile too. The Knight of Swords with King of Wands indicates dynamic, assertive energy but possibly conflicting motives; there might be confusion between a need and a want — learn to enjoy both. The Two of Swords points to indecision or a crossroads, while the Three of Pentacles emphasizes collaboration and effort in relationships; collaborate with your heart and mind, and attract what you want. At the bottom, Temperance and Queen of Wands suggest the need for balance and an appealing, magnetic presence to navigate these complexities.

Keywords: Balance, commitment, passion, 55, manifestation, transformation, bondage, delays, door, red door, assertiveness, indecision, collaboration, magnetic presence and magic.

---

5. Rose Petals:

Cards: Four of Pentacles, Judgment, Page of Wands with Hermit, Four of Wands, Magician, Devil, Seven of Pentacles, Emperor, Sun, Five of Cups, Ace of Swords, King of Wands, Ten of Wands, Two of Swords, Ace of Cups (bottom: Queen of Cups, Ten of Cups, Star)

💌Message: The seductive mysteries surrounding your love life reveal a mix of transformation, stability, and emotional depth. The Four of Pentacles and Judgment suggest that holding onto past issues or fears is a significant factor, with the need for self-reflection and major decisions — you are in your healing or soft era or about to be. The Page of Wands with Hermit indicates an inner exploration of passion and creativity, while the Four of Wands and Magician point to solid foundations and the power to create your ideal relationship. Something might start as a friendship and evolve into something deeper. The Devil and Seven of Pentacles warn of potential bondage or delays, emphasizing the need for patience, don’t lose hope just because something happens slower than expected. Also avoid being mad at your fate — your life is yours, their life is theirs, stop comparing. The Emperor and Sun signify stability, authority, and joy, and with the Five of Cups and Ace of Swords reveal past disappointments and the need for clarity coming to light to be addressed and finished, at least mentally. The King of Wands and Ten of Wands suggest a passionate yet burdensome energy that your love life might have, and with the Two of Swords indicating indecision between love and burden — but hey, allow time to be itself. The Ace of Cups at the bottom, along with the Queen of Cups, Ten of Cups, and Star, points to new emotional beginnings, fulfillment, and hope for a deeply satisfying connection. Don’t give up. Love is here!!

Keywords: Glitter, stability, eating, self-reflection, creativity, shadow work, bondage, email, nostalgia for something absent, throne, clarity, burdens, indecision, fulfillment, hope and new shoes or shopping with a look of neutrality. Your mind is elsewhere, focus.

---

6. Books:

Cards: Queen of Wands with Queen of Cups, Six of Cups, Seven of Wands with Four of Cups, Wheel of Fortune, Hanged Man, Three of Cups with Hierophant, Justice, Knight of Wands, Two of Wands (bottom: King of Cups)

💌Message: The seductive mysteries surrounding your love life involve a rich tapestry of emotional depth and evolving dynamics. The Queen of Wands with Queen of Cups indicates a blend of passion and emotional sensitivity, highlighting an attractive and nurturing presence in your love life. The Six of Cups suggests past influences or nostalgia, while the Seven of Wands with Four of Cups points to challenges and dissatisfaction in navigating emotional blocks; there are some past influences that still influence you but you’re slowly improving the energy around you. The Wheel of Fortune and Hanged Man reveal significant shifts and a need for new perspectives. The Three of Cups with Hierophant indicates celebration and possibly a commitment or traditional values influencing your social circle. Justice signifies a quest for balance and fairness in relationships. The Knight of Wands here explains a dynamic, adventurous energy, and with the Two of Wands reveals planning and decision-making for future directions; you will need to take a decision regarding two people or two paths that will impact your love life — your heart will guide you if you allow her. The King of Cups at the bottom underscores emotional maturity and depth in your love life, which overall means that you’re almost ready for what you crave to experience emotionally.

Keywords: Emotional depth, passion, past influences, debt, red dress, shifts, new perspectives, celebration, commitment, balance, adventure, planning, travel, and intelligence.

————————————-

My free and paid readings are available! Please take a look and support me so I can save some money for my desired college. Thank you❤️

Wish you the best of luck!

[kamiimiya]

Latest self-ship: ran haitani ,,,, somebody sedate me he's been all i think about lately. unfortunately him in bonten has unlocked my daddy issues in the worst way possible and ive been making it everyone's problem whenever im online

Favorite self-ship trope: " i'll take care of you " " its rotten work " " not to me. not if its you. "

Longest running self-ship: the first official selfship i ever had was kai chisaki ( mha ) back when i first learned what selfshipping was in 2021.

The self-ship you never saw coming: naoya fuckin zenin. i hate that man, i hate that man. but oh, cara mia, how i love him.

The f/o you no longer self-ship with: him :(( i dont wanna name him because i feel bad but he was going strong until it just fizzled out.

open tags !! ♡

SELF-SHIP GAME!

Latest self-ship:

Favorite self-ship trope:

Longest running self-ship:

The self-ship you never saw coming:

The f/o you no longer self-ship with:

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

To Hunt a Silver Stag (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Fae Princess!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 6.9k

WARNINGS: Arranged marriage, talks of childbirth, traditional views of women & men in medieval times, talks of war, death, heavy religious imagery/symbolism, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You wore a crown of deer antlers atop your head. Charms were woven into the gaps between the tines, attached to golden thread; jewels of starlight strung like teardrops from the moon. Your feet, staying still on the hard stone of the Great Hall, are bare though attract no dirt or dust—it is as if the very ethereal aura that coats your gown of pure white repels any such thought of uncleanliness or corruption of this mortal plane. 

You are so very far from home.

Standing in the center of your soon-to-be husband’s court, your eyes seem not to be on the man himself, who watches you greedily from the throne of black iron, but instead behind him. Blank of any emotion, your long lashes blink in the direction of the stained glass windows with a horrible longing. Whispers from the multitude of court attendants go in one ear and out the other—useless to you. Their time would be gone in a blink, and yet here you would remain, immemorial. Their words were nothing, and their utterances would turn to dust faster than their bodies would.

You can’t help but wonder if those colorful depictions in that glass window, of God and his valiant angels, are mocking you as you blink at them slowly. Not only for what you are and where you now find yourself in the kingdom of your enemies but for being so full of the very qualities that would normally resign a woman of this age to the stake. 

Independent, confident, and curious, among others. 

A voice raises above the rest, and your eyes blink elegantly, the silver hue to them unnatural in all senses. Yet, you do not look away from the mighty white stag, its soldered bits of thin glass a patchwork of an overwatching Lord. Saint Eustace is there, staring at it, just as was told from generation to generation.

A pagan man converted to Christianity, the symbol of a cross set between antlers very much like the ones adorning your head. Humming under your breath, your eyes dip down, chin moving. Below the window, there stands a tall knight, and your gaze locks with his softly. 

“Today,” the King’s voice echoes over the crowd as brown orbs stare at you, blinking. “We are here to celebrate the joining of two great bloodlines!” He stands with a grand cape over his shoulders, falling to the floor as his boots stand at the top of the stairs to the throne. Yet, this knight holds your attention more than your Promised does as the cheering starts, loud; making your ears twitch.

At your waist, a golden belt is engraved with expert attention, stories woven into metal that even seem to move with the magic embedded into it. It seems to hum with an energy that makes your eyes narrow in confusion upon this stranger.

He had brown eyes, the knight, and the hues reminded you of brown that you could see in the trees of your home—those old beasts that grew still with the magic of your line and your gentle touch. Surrounding him, there was silver armor and a strip of red fabric that went over one shoulder, hanging beside the items of his station; a sword and a dagger on a brown leather belt.

Brows furrowing, your head tilts slowly, unblinking, as the eye contact persists. 

A bold man, it seems.

The knight’s eyelids slightly widen, as if realizing he had been staring, and his face swiftly moves to the side, his short hair close to his oval skull. You hear the faint clearing of a throat come into the shell of your pointed ears.

Sighing, your focus returns to the matter at hand, the crown’s adornments clinking together as your head rotates. The speech. 

King Michael spreads his hands out, a man far into his older years but still had the gleam of malice in his eyes. Those beady things. They remind you of a rat—a small creature, while intelligent, that cannot win unless through tricks.

“We all know that magic has slowly been disappearing from the lands,” the King utters, voice echoing off the walls. Your hands are holding themselves near your abdomen, grace embedded into your bones. Watching how he speaks, you can’t deny he was influential. But influence didn’t matter when you had no wife—no children. He has a dying line, and that means weakness…which is why you’re here, after all. “And in that time, our war with the Fae has fallen into a stalemate.”

Your expression sharpens, fingers twitching. Stalemate? There were humans in your lands—spreading their fires and swinging their defiling iron swords. There was no war here except the one that this King was perpetuating. 

But you held your tongue, even if your silver eyes narrowed in an ancient, bitter, anger. Your head raises itself higher, hanging gemstones swinging. The knight near the stained glass is back to watching you—his feet shifting from under him, hands behind his armored back with loose shoulders.

“...Today, myself and the King of the Fae have come to an agreement in confidence, and in the fashion of old, I am to be wed to his daughter, a princess!” Gasps, cheers, clapping. They spring up from all corners of the Hall, bouncing. Your body longs for nature, to be away from rock and metal, these suffocating walls that close in with the gaggle of wretched corpses walking. “Peace shall be beholden to all of us! Magic shall come back into my bloodline through our many children, and all will share in its wealth!” 

You had compared yourself to a broodmare when your father had given the news of your journey here. A womb to be filled until you could give no more; restrained to a bed—away from any privilege and right.

And you’d been sent here anyway. A price needed to be paid, your father had told you. A daughter to stop the war. A child to bring back mortal magic and keep the peace through generations. Was your head to be put to the block for that? Who was to say that children would bring peace? That there weren’t more conflicts to come?

This was a momentary sacrifice, and here you were wearing white.

You hum under your breath and feel shackles tie themselves to your ankles; tying you to this place. But what other option did you have?

Your ears listen to the loud rapturous cheering, the exclamations of love that mean nothing to you—you do not love these people, do not love their need for violence and their pride. You want to go home, to find where you can rest among glades and grass. Converse with the birds and the beasts to learn of their news of far-off lands; run your hands through clear streams and watch plants grow where you walk.

As your stone body stays still, silver eyes unblinking, the knight near the window is the only man in the room not gazing at you like he wants something from you. While Lords have their eyes filled with lustful envy of your age-less skin—your finery and wealth; the promise of strong children, the knight is the only one with an open expression. 

He only watches, handsome face holding the whispers of stubble and eyes that would make many moral women wish to be his wife. 

Admittingly, your attention keeps going back to him, just as his own is stuck on you even as he tries to look professional. Back straight, armor glinting, sword pommel fiddled with by long fingers. 

The King is walking down the stairs, one withered leg at a time. You don’t offer any help.

“My bride,” Michael licks his lips when he’s in front of you; but he’s more fixated on your stomach than all else. What it will hold for him. “My beautiful Fae bride. My wedding will be known through history for ages to come.”

My. 

The world holds its breath. The knight’s jaw clenches, though no one sees it. 

You take a heavy breath into your lungs to hold back your snapping tongue. As the words meet the air, they come out as unemotional as a wave at sea. Wind holding mist.

“Certainly.”

—

As it turned out, the castle itself was even less homely than the material that was used to build it. You walk slowly through the halls, hands behind your back and your crown glimmering—the trail of a thin and flowing gown making you look like a specter. One crudely carved window after another passes by your right shoulder, and you look out of every slit; seeing the silver shades of moonlight. In contrast, everything on your left was washed with firelight from the blazing iron sconces, your ears twitching to the pop of wood and fabric saturated in animal fat. 

Everything here was horrible.

A prison, you think, slowing near one of the larger windows in the hall. A cage.  

Staring outside, trying for only a moment to understand the disgusting castle and adjoined town you look at, there’s a faint noise from far down the corridor. 

Wasting no time, your head moves slowly to the side, blinking. There isn’t anyone to be seen, but yet again, your slightly pointed ears twitch. 

A firm heartbeat. 

Bump-bump, bump-bump, bump-bump.

Staring at nothing, you listen for a moment, taking it in as your visage fights with blue and red light, shadows littering the small cracks and the marks of stone—your hands slightly tighten, but you hold no fear. 

You refused to be afraid here; you would go to your spiritual death with a high head, and nothing less. 

“It’s unbecoming to stalk as if a wolf,” you call, voice smooth and even. A beat of bird’s wings. “Four-legged beasts have perfected it, yet, the same cannot be said of you.” 

There’s a lapse of silence—a swirling of slight tension that comes not from you but another. The heartbeat in your ear lightly skips. Startled. A shadow cusps one of the connected hallways, a gleam of silver armor. You blink slowly.

“Apologies, Ma’am.” The Knight. The one from the Great Hall. “I…didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

His lithe form doesn’t try to hide from your accusation, instead, his body moves to the middle of the stone floor and straightens—one hand going to his heart and the other behind his back; bowing. The darkness of his complexion seems to glow in the light, smooth skin besides the marring of small scars along the left cheek. Tiny things, only two lines.

For no reason at all, your body lightly turns towards him, watching.

“I’m not nervous,” you respond. “Please, stand straight.” 

He does so without hesitation, though his eyes are avoiding yours. A guilty pull is to his lips that you can’t help but quirk a brow at. Yet, you remain emotionless, and outside the shadows of flying birds shift past.

“What is your name, Knight?” You see his expression slightly tense at the question, but you continue easily. A test, perhaps, if this man was worth your time. “I recall your face.” 

“I can’t give you that, My Lady.” Brown eyes go to meet yours, and the silver flecks in your orbs glimmer. “My orders were clear.”

“And were those orders also to follow me?” 

He clears his throat, feet shifting. “...Maybe.”

You hum, moving your body slowly and walking forward to him. The man blinks in surprise, straightening even more but a firm set to his eyes. His attention never wavers, unless it’s to glimpse your crown and belt, perfect pieces of artistry lost to this section of humanity. No mortal craftsman could imagine making something as such. He liked them, you notice at the light impression of awe in his gaze.

Anyone with sense would.

Stopping just a few feet away, you tilt your head. 

It was common knowledge that you never gave your name to one of the Fae, your betrothed would have told everyone close to him to avoid doing so. Just as you would never tell your real name to anyone—not even under dire circumstances. Names hold power, and no person in this castle would make you even more of a prisoner than you already were. 

You know the names of beasts and plants, flora and fauna—they bend to you, let you manipulate them to your will, though you often find no need to. The animals from any land prefer your company, anyway. The castle’s hunting hounds have already become well acquainted, just as the messenger birds had. 

But mortals? No. No, there were no names that you knew besides the King himself, and even then it was a fake one. Second names and such, are common. 

“Your title, then,” you say to the Knight. “If you’re to be a constant face to me.”

“Gaz is just fine, I’d say.” He nods his head, a slow smile moving his cheeks. Your brows furrow. Strange fellow. “A pleasure. I really do need to say that I wasn’t following you for long—I was only concerned you might have lost your way.”

You stare. 

“Lost?” Owlishly, your head shifts.

Gaz makes a noise in the back of his throat, one hand coming up to rub at the base of his neck. “Yeah—lost. It’s, uh, it’s a big castle, My Lady—”

“Stag.” Wide eyes blink, this meeting is only awkward on his part and not yours. In fact, for how humans go, he was acting far better than most. Usually, there was iron being brandished by now.

“What was that?”

“My title,” you explain, your crown’s gems bright in the light. The fire crackles, popping. “Stag. I do not need my status stated. I know what I am, Knight.”

“Then I’d say the same,” your fingers twitch, liking the word game he plays. Inside of your sockets, the unnatural makeup of your eyes shimmers. 

“Very well,” you pause, picking your words. “Gaz. A strange choice to be sure.”

He chuckles, nodding in a very stoic-like way despite the nearly boyish nature of him. “Well, Stag isn’t exactly common, either.”

You hum in your throat, unblinking; staring. Your intrigue grows the longer the man talks. Just like in the Great Hall, his form attracts all of your attention to it, against all laws that you seem to know in your soul. 

“Pray tell,” you shift, moving back to the window with your feet not making a single sound. Gaz watches on, eyes flickering between the hanging gems and how you tread over the stone as if you had wings. Your form slips back to the window, and your focus once more goes outward. “Has the King told you to spy on me, Gaz?”

The title, even if not the one of his birth—not the one written on his soul like a brand—still made the air quiver with might. You were older than most of this kingdom, the Knight knew. Older than the oak trees of the nearby forest; older than rock and wind and air.

Power dripped off your tongue like water to a leaf. 

But it wasn’t your influence that made the man answer you. It was his own nature. 

“Yes,” Gaz says, taking a few steps to where you stand, watching a flock of birds dance above the courtyard, silver moon-drips illuminating white feathers. “But I wouldn’t call it spying. Officially, I’ve been put in place to keep you safe, Princess.” His dark brows crease when you don’t pay him any mind. “I take my job very seriously, yeah?” 

“I can see that,” you utter, eyes still on the birds. “The only thing I need protecting from is the iron ring on your right hand.”

He startles, blinking for a moment. 

“...Parden?”

Silver eyes pierce him, watching; waiting. 

Gaz looks down, locking on the hand that has been resting on the pommel of his sword. Cape swishing, he makes a noise in the back of his throat. His sigil ring—the one that had been given over at his dubbing ceremony sat on the first digit, the engraving of his King’s coat of arms glimmering back. 

A wolf; a snake caught in its fangs. 

Brown eyes dart back, and he sheepishly smiles, huffing a chuckle of sorts. 

“Comes with the job, unfortunately,” yet still, his other hand easily grasps and slips the thing off, tucking it away into the leather pouch swinging from his belt. “I thought that was a myth—the Fae being harmed by iron. Conjured up to give people something to cling to.”

“I can name a million things that men and women like you consider myth,” you mutter, starting at that pouch, deep in thought. You hadn’t expected him to give in that easily. Your shoulders loosen their rigidness, but your chin never drops its high pride. “Every story comes from somewhere—be it reality or wives’ tales. Who’s to say that the words don’t give them life in one form or another?” 

“Bloody hell. Not a discussion to take up with me, I’m afraid,” Gaz huffs a chuckle, smirking. While still hesitant around you, the conversation wasn’t anything that made him want to not be around you. Everyone deserved to have their character shown, and what he was seeing so far wasn’t ringing any alarms. “Sound more of a scholar than a Princess, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Your lips quirk. “I prefer philosopher.”

“And what’s a Fae philosopher doing out in the middle of the night, then?” A breeze wafts through the window, blowing on your dress and making Gaz’s cape flutter in its bloodish tint. The torches whip and dance. You take a low breath, bird chips coming closer. 

“Speaking with an old friend.”

A white dove lands on the stone opening of the window, fluttering wings coming to fold along its sleek form until it shakes and settles all at once. 

“Lysander,” you say in greeting, nodding your head. Gaz watches, barely moving as his lips part in astonishment. 

Your hand extends itself, bearing no rings or bracelets. All you needed was your crown. Tiny eyes blink as an angular head turns to the side, tiny coos sparking from a rounded breast. Pale feet grasp your perfect flesh, such a tiny weight settles before you lift effortlessly; wings flapping to keep balance. 

“What news, then?” You ask in a whisper, bringing the beast to your crown. Lysander settles on one of the tines, head dipping down as feathers puff. Into your ear, words take shape. 

You hum in answer, blinking at every clicked sentence; tapping talons. 

Gaz stares blankly, eyebrows pulled up on his head and unable to articulate himself.

So many stories about your people—he hadn’t thought half of them to be true. While he’d been stationed in many places during the duration of this war, he’d never actually encountered one of the Fae before. Gaz had been told they were like a plague; they came in when you weren’t looking, spoke magic into your ears, and forced you to come back to their home and live as mindless beasts. Cupbearers and entertainment. 

Of the countless knights he’d been in line with, he knew the true names of none of them. A precaution. Forethought. 

Yet…you don’t look dangerous. 

But the man is far from stupid. 

“He says the fires from your forges burn his eyes,” your voice snaps him back to you, and he straightens, fingers twitching. Gaz finds your face already turned his way, owlish in its movements. “The smoke makes his throat ache.”

“I,” he pauses, mouth opening and closing. Brown eyes dart to the sharp-beaked dove; the thing very much like you in the way it watches him. “I’m…sorry?”

Your lips pull in a frown, sighing with a shake of your head. 

I can never survive here, you find yourself thinking. I believed this is what I had to do, but if this is how I’m going to live…

“Tell me about your King, Gaz,” your body swiftly turns, feet carrying you down the corridor once more with long, even, steps. “If I’m to marry him, I will know of his nature.”

The man clears his throat and follows after, where you hear the clinking of silver and the scabbard against his thigh. He glances over at you, walking if not a bit behind yourself in proper fashion. 

“What do you want to know, Ma’am?”

Your unnatural orbs shimmer, and the bird on your crown hunkers down; puffed contently and eager to rest his wings from a long flight. 

“Everything. I will not be unaware of my fate.” 

“Well,” Gaz sighs, rubbing at his chin with his opposite hand. He licks his lips, mind running to answer the best he can. “You’ll not want for anything—finery and wealth will—”

“I do not care about mortal revelry. I need neither fine things nor wealth.” Your voice curtly moves along the open air. The Knight’s boots connect with stone while your bare flesh emits nothing. “His character, Knight. Is he fair—just?”

Gaz’s face tightens, glancing from you to the hallway as he takes a moment to think.

“My King has…become troubled with the turning tides of the war. I’m sure when your marriage is official, he’ll go back to how he was before.” He doesn’t seem certain, but loyalty is a trait that a knight knows well. You had been set as his charge, of course, not under the best of circumstances, but he would do his job how he believed would benefit all parties. Even if his guts were stiff at the thought of a forced marriage. 

“My Lady Stag?” He asks, and your heart jerks unexpectedly at the muttering of your title. 

Blinking in confusion, your hand coming up to rub at your collarbone like a willow branch, you almost miss the question entirely. 

“Where you come from, if I can ask, of course, what’s it like?” Your mind strays from marriage ceremonies and consummation—momentary peace slipping in on waves of this man’s smooth accent. 

Mouth opening, only to close once and open again, you decide to indulge this man with your answer. If only because he speaks of your home. 

“Green,” is the soft utterance of your answer to him. “It’s green. More trees and rivers than you can count in your lifetime. Animals each more fantastical than the last; all of which your people now call nothing but hearsay.” 

You can sense his attention, sucking up knowledge as if he had the years to know and understand it all. 

Lysander coos, shaking his feathers out, and you glance upward without moving your head. You chuckle like a blade of moving grass. 

Blinking, Gaz slowly begins to smile, cocking his skull to the side boyishly. “What’s so funny, then?”

Your high nose twitches. 

“He says you’re as if a Wyvern hatching. A curious thing.” Brown eyes drift to your companion, whose peaked eye pierces like black fire-stone. Gaz’s mouth releases a puff of a chuckle, chest jerking. 

“Hell, never thought I’d get insulted by a bird.” 

“Humans have not the ability to speak with beasts,” you ease out, walking on. “On that, I have to say you are at a sure disadvantage.”

“What?” Gaz’s amused voice is in your ear. “Minus the whole immortality thing?”

You side-eye him, visage calm with decades of understanding. “Not everything is built to last forever.”

A momentary silence falls between the two of you. Eyes locked, you both stare, legs carrying bodies across the unfeeling stone until the area Lysander had told you about takes form. You shift a slow right and exit into the inner courtyard, large stone walls making a small square of patchy green grass and dying plants. A fountain sits still. 

“If this is to be a game of equal exchange, Knight, I desire to ask the next question.” Your eyes take it all in, hand moving out to capture the blackened leaves of a Medlar tree. Frowning at the dead fauna, you hear Lysander take to wing, flapping until his ghostly form lands on the far-off fountain’s edge. 

“Alright,” Gaz nods, looking around at the dying place with a frown as well. He’d never come here before, but the state of things was…sad, really. “Ask away.”

“When you leave the castle—the town,” you let power move to your fingertips, and you feel the tingles of it running the lengths of your arms like ice and fire; taking a low breath. “What do you see? I admit, I’m not used to having company with humans. I know not how their souls feel.”

Gaz walks into the small enclosed space, humming as he taps the pommel of his sword. His shoulders shrug as his head tilts up, blinking at the stars. 

“I wouldn’t see it as you would, I gather.”

You look over your shoulder, amusement in your face mixed with a slice of intrigue. “That wasn’t my question. But, no, you would not.” 

“Figured,” he chuckles, nodding at you. Gaz articulates himself dutifully. “I see a place far more peaceful than the one here. Outside the stone and smog—it’s beautiful, truly. Calm. You can actually think above the noise, you know? I usually find myself wanting to get out more often, but my duty ties me here.” 

Your eyes soften slightly, thumb running the face of the leaf as you take in his words. Lysander stoops to take a sip of water. 

“You’re…” You lack the words, only humming and stopping yourself. 

“Why are we here, Princess?” Gaz asks you, gazing around. “I had only expected you to walk to the kitchens—the library, even. Don’t get me wrong, you can go as you wish, but I’m not sure this is the most…” He grunts. “Sightly place to end up. Everything’s dead.”

“Nearly,” you whisper, a tiny smile taking over your flesh. “Not quite.” 

Gaz’s frown is lost to you, as is his comment that he mutters, “Looks it.”

Leaning forward, you press your lips to the leaf you hold as if a precious object. Into its blackened and shriveled form, you whisper its name—its true name, one you had learned through years of patience and trust that bordered on an entirely trance-like state. A Medlar is a tough and stubborn thing, like the fruit it bears, it will hang on until all else is gone to dust. Its roots are strong, and from them, you had listened to the earth sing its songs one buzzing note at a time.

All things speak, you just have to know how to listen. 

There’s a surge of wild order, a dichotomy of will and freedom; the sing of an axe and the memories of young saplings just gracing their leaves to the sun. A circle of death and rebirth as old as the stars that still shone in a sky of black. 

You know many names, but those of the trees were the first to come to you, and it was only proper. Before anything, there were trees. 

The Medlar shakes, its leaves dropping down one at a time until they come in groups, in clusters—bare branches shiver like dogs do until creaking ballads move over the air. 

Starling, Gaz had taken a large step back, hand snapping to the handle of his sword, the blade half drawn. Lysander flies past his face, blunt talons skating the close-cropping of his hair before the bird grapples to your crown. Flinching, the knight watched with a mixture of horror and pure wonder.

The tree was sprouting new greens. 

You step back, and from your feet, the dead grass quivers, before the smell of groaning earth makes his nose twitch; fresh blades show themselves anew. The dove atop your crown jumps from one sharp tine to the next, dodging lines of gold—eyes glinting and wings flapping excitedly. 

Life is in the very air. 

You smile to yourself, silver eyes moving as a nearly ancient-looking spark flares to life in them—a long breath entering your lungs. 

Gaz’s face begins to heat as he watches, his heart pounding with something he can’t understand. He stares at your bright face before his fast-blinking eyes move to the grass growing all around; the bushes dancing, flowers opening up and turning to you. Birds gather on the edges of this verdant and fertile land, darting one by one to the fountain and to the trees. Singing.  

The knight steps back, feet dancing over the ground with an airy laugh stuck in his throat. 

“Holy hell…” he breathes, nearly panting. 

Wide eyes move back to you, expression open, innocent. This was a moment when you truly believed you’d never seen a face more bare than this; more giving. 

“You…” He laughs. “You’re tellin’ me you could always do that?” You chuckle, and it is a sound that could make roots grow in his heart, flowers bursting from his lungs. “I…I’m speechless, really. This is,” he laughs once more, turning a full circle, with his hand going to the back of his neck in shock. It was entirely new—all of it. Ivy climbed the stone, and the animals spoke and flew in the air; excitement something that transcends species. “This is extraordinary.”

You were something incredible. 

Chuckling, you raise a slow brow, feeling a foreign heat move over your cheeks. It’s a moment before you speak, taken aback by the reverency.

“My thanks, Knight,” your head nods his way, a simple dip of your chin and nothing more. “But this is only a small courtyard. A fraction. If I so wished, forests could grow from ashen ground.”

“How?” He asks you, eyes glittering more than the moon. 

Smaller birds join Lysander on your head, finches, perhaps, and sparrows. They tweet and chip, speaking their thanks. You reach up and let one move onto your finger, bringing it back to eye level as you move to softly connect your forehead to its own. Moving back, you hum and watch the bird fly off.

“Ages of practice,” you elegantly tip your head his way, careful of your cargo. “Quite verbatim.” 

Gaz is speechless, unable to recall something in his life that had made him feel so special to be able to witness it. Magic to humans was a dying thing—you’d be surprised if he’d ever even seen it in this magnitude before. 

“...Amazing,” he utters under his breath, smiling like a fool.

For all of your Fae trickery, your games, you had to be honest. “I don’t believe I thought you’d be this moved by it.”

“Really?” He blinks at you, a boyish twist to his face. “How could I bloody not be, Love?”

Your air gets stuck in your throat, eyes minutely widening. 

Gaz quickly comes back to himself, straightening and clearing his throat as your face suddenly blazes in a way that startles you. Heart pattering like a horse’s hooves not only at the…different title but his awe at your magic as well. 

“Forgive me, My Lady,” you choose not to correct him. “I overstepped.”

His body bends forward in a deep bow, hand to his heart, resting over his armor as the cape drapes its crimson fabric to the now vibrant grass. 

It had briefly eluded you that you were to be married soon. A comment like that could get the Knight and his tree-bark brown eyes put to the sword. You hold back a long sigh, eyelids fluttering shut softly. 

“Is he kind?” Your question is small, but it moves like a knife.

Gaz stares hard at the ground, once dead and nothing but a reminder of nature. He clenches his jaw, a worry swirling in his gut. The man knows who you’re asking about, and he holds the same dread he did in the Great Hall as you were led like a sacrificial lamb to the altar. 

Maybe the Knight was broken, but even if he’d never met one of your kind before, he knew that no person deserved to be bartered for the illusion of peace—forced to give children like they were only objects. But maybe he was also just a man not meant for this lifetime.

It was the way of things.

Gaz swallows the tension in his shoulders. He will not lie. 

“...No.”

—

This tall knight had become a constant at your side. Officially, he’d been placed for your protection, but you knew it was because the King didn’t want you to cut and run. 

But unless there was a very good reason to, he should have known that you were not the running type. It was a battle of wits, and even into your marriage, you would always come out on top.

It started easy enough—Michael would invite you for tours of the castle ‘making it a home’ he’d said in front of his court. It was a power trip. 

He’d talk about his wealth like it would make you swoon; like you cared at all. You could only hide your sneer for so many hours, even with your infinite amount of patience. Time had mellowed you like the rocks of the ocean, but even they cracked when the storm was strong enough. 

Yet still, you considered yourself too intelligent for baseline insults.

“My palace was much the same, your Highness. Our towers rose high—nearly gracing the clouds themselves.”

“Oh, lovely, my King. Pray tell, do you also have pet dragons? Oh…unicorns, perhaps? My, I had the most lovely unicorn companion when I was just shy of my two-hundredth birth year. A little thing—all legs and neck. Beautiful creatures.” 

“Gorgeous little trinkets. Tell me, do you have a coffer for fallen stars? They create the most magnificent illumination for late-night reading.”

Gaz nearly lost his composure at times, even if no one else could tell except for you and your pointed ears; twitching at every breath that was fought to keep still. The over-the-lip huffs and chuckles. In fact, you found yourself perpetuating the back-handed insults just to hear those noises. Such small and meaningless things, in the grand scheme. 

You took…enjoyment from it.

Seeing the effect it had on the King was also a bonus—his raging eyes, snapping tongue held back for only his reputation and little more. He wanted to take you by the arm and shake you, you knew, yell in your face. 

Kind, King Michael was not. Gaz had been correct. 

In the nights, you would discuss with the Knight—sitting in the dense and growing courtyard with your body comfortable on the grass; Gaz’s on the fountain’s edge.

You have much of the same confidence in one another as you do tonight. 

“Do knights marry for love?” Your voice wafts out, petting Lysander with a single finger in your lap; itching at his neck as he coos. “Do they get to choose?” 

Gaz fiddles with his cape’s clasp, fingers dancing over the silver make. He has made a motion to always take off his ring when it’s just the two of you, easily slipping it away until he was forced to put it back on. He doesn’t know if you feel it, but he believes the two of you to be well-off acquaintances—perhaps even friends. 

The man enjoyed speaking to you. He reveled in the limitless knowledge that spilled from your tongue, your stories and tales. Gaz, unlike so many others, enjoyed your company not for the power that it offers in a physical sense, but for the words that you freely give. Often your sentences were like honey to him, seeping into his head.

A princess speaking with a knight? Unheard of. A Fae princess? Blasphemy. 

It was easy to forget that you were older than many generations of his family line. 

“No,” he says, glancing over. “All knights take a vow of chastity when they commit to service. None of those alive in this kingdom will wed unless they willingly break their oaths.” 

Your head tilts, crown resting comfortably a small distance away on a rock.

“That sounds lonely.”

Gaz smiles, “Worried about me?” 

You stare, eyes traveling the little deaths on his face—the lines, the scars. “If it’s what you wish to do with yourself, who am I to tell you any different?” 

The man’s face softens, lips pulling as his cheeks heat under the moonlight. “Figured you’d have some opinion of it.”

You hum, raising a brow. “It’s your life—it’s so fleeting. Tread it as if water between your fingers. Before you know it, it’ll be gone.” Lysander leans into your flesh, shivering. “Live it.”

“For someone who says they don’t know humans that well,” Gaz grumbles, though his chest is light. “You sure know a lot about them.”

“Intuition,” your mouth twitches in a smile. “And a bit of reality.”

Delicate looks are shared. 

You do admit, you liked these conversations with Gaz. The long nights and the feeling of grass under your flowing dresses; the horrid contraptions that your betrothed had tried to make you wear stuck far back into the wardrobe of your room. Heavy items—suffocating corsets, unlike the simple but elegantly sewn one you wear now. You could feel it trying to sneak in when the days drew on. 

Control. 

It was all becoming more and more apparent. You did not want to live like this. 

Your face goes troubled as the calm silence moves over the Medlar with its reaching branches. Fireflies hang like miniature stars as you take your crown and slip it back on; to feel the comforting weight of antlers. 

The knight pauses as he slips his cape off of his shoulder, blinking over at you in a slow confusion. You look troubled. He’d never seen that expression on your face before.

“Stag?” Your head swivels, as if in another world.

“Just thinking,” your voice moves into his ears, making them hum with energy. Gaz’s brows furrow, a frown taking over. After a second, he stands, moving closer on quiet feet. 

You watch him as he goes to kneel near you, one arm moving over the bent nature of his leg while the other holds fabric—letting it cascade over the earth. Brown eyes narrow, and a joking tease moves with the undertone of slight concern.

“I’m usually the talker, I know, but when you look a bit like that it makes me nervous.”

You frown. “Look like what?”

“Like someone’s got a sword to your neck, Princess.” The air is cool here, the deep throws of night taking you by the breath in your throat. A smooth smirk. “It’s my job to make sure that doesn’t happen, yeah?”

If you leave, if you find a way out of this…the war will never end. It will go on until stone cracks like glass and generations forget why it even started in the first place. 

But why were you put to the axe because of it? Why must you take the blade to the stomach—an object of greed? 

Gaz’s amused voice moves lower at your immobile lips, going serious. 

“Hey,” a hand outstretched to your arm, hovering. “Really, is everything alright?”

“Gaz,” you pause, voice still level despite your heated pulse. It’s like a snake curls itself in your guts, roots growing in your veins. The courtyard seems to shiver all by itself, leaves curling into themselves from bushes and trees. Lysander’s feet shimmy, head moving about. 

This knight had been kind to you as well as honest about his intentions. Chivalrous. Such qualities are hard to come by anymore.

“I don’t believe I want this.” It’s a breath more quiet than a lapping of waves. Gaz stills, fingers above your flesh twitching. “I can’t live in a cage. I refuse.”

Silver meets brown, holding it firmly. 

“I will not be a prize to be chained to a birthing bed.” 

The man’s face pulls at that, tightening. 

You don’t know what to expect. It isn’t fear in you—no, nothing like this could make you afraid. Apprehensive? Perhaps. Age made you cautious. At any moment he might flip his tune; run off to tattle to a King he, seemingly, likes just as much as you. Which is to say, very little. But there’s still the possibility, the knowledge stacked over ages and ages of strategy and mind games. 

A knight of a tension-ridden kingdom, swearing fealty to a King whom you’re betrothed to. You’d just expressed treason, in a way. It could put you to the sword; to the rope. To irons. Your mind runs through the millions of possibilities, not able to settle on a single one before—

A cape settles over your shoulders, startling you. 

Hand snapping to grab the front, your head snaps up, eyes wider than you can remember them ever going. 

Soft browns meet you, a thin smile. Fireflies buzz about, and a dove sits under your still finger, watching with beady orbs intently at the scene. A Medlar quivers. 

A stag and a knight breathe the same air. A godly creation and a saint ensnared in a song far larger than they intend, as the world shifts past all around them. Silver starlight leaves long reflections breaking from the hanging glory of your gems, but the patches of light on Gaz’s face capture yours in that instant far more than they should have. 

Impossibly so. Unnaturally so. 

Does this mortal have magic of his own, perhaps? You have to ask yourself. There was no other possibility. 

And when he speaks…it’s like whatever ice has been layered over your antediluvian heart breaks into fire. There wasn’t even a fight from him.

“Then tell me what you need.”

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[belphegorey]

⌜venom, barbatos⌟ it had been so long since you last spoke ships ⎯⎯ yandere-ish!barbatos x sorcerer!afab!reader tropes ⎯⎯ referenced death and murder, jealousy, love confessions, angst, vaginal tail sex, right person wrong time, tongue

Nothing could stop the anticipation — he was going to be mad. Dusts of chalk kissed the skin of your calves, ground mushroom powder rested on your hands. Runes and symbols surrounded your summoning circle, charm and latin words spewing protection. The old words so familiar on your tongue recited as easy as though it were your name. Warm wind surrounded your naked body, collecting the tributes and offerings you laid as well as the mushroom powder.

You opened your eyes to watch the ingredients spin around you. The colour teal laid hidden in the gusts of wind, glowing faint and ominously. The words continued to sing from your lips as you readjusted your kneeling form. The rune bracelets and flowers along your wrist jingled while you ran a single finger up the slit of your pussy. Wet. Just as he liked. The tremble up your spine was easily ignored in favour of the incoming form in front of you.

He was still as beautiful as always. It was your own fault for believing that one day when you rang for him he would arrive with disfigurements. Though, you were sure he would still manage to look handsome regardless. His pocket watch was tight in his hand, the engaging of your eternal words still haunting the front. It even looked recently polished and maintained. “I am sure that you are aware of the time?”

Barbatos was in his formal suit. Pressed and primped to perfection. His horns scratched into the roof of the room, tail near frozen behind his body. You remained on the floor kneeling, looking up at the demon. “Of course.”

He remained still in front of you with a stiff smile. Fury. You had known Barbatos long enough to understand how he displayed his emotions. His tail cracked at your words and returned to its place. “Then I would assume you understand what day it is?”

With the smallest of glances you flew your grimoire onto your lectern. It closed itself and the vines extended to lock it shut. Just what day was it? Formal attire, horns and tail pronounced and more anger than you anticipated. His eyes glinted with rage and a soft teal glow emitted behind him. “Yes,” that was right; Diavolo’s ball to celebrate the success of his exchange program. You still were curious why you had received an invite in the beginning — it wasn’t as though you accepted the student role he had offered.

“And yet, you still summoned me?” He still wore pristine black gloves, sleek and warm over his hands. You followed them with a subtle gaze, from the return of his pocket watch to the breast pocket of his suit to when he gently held his chin. He still had them, then. You assumed that Barbatos would have hidden the gloves many decades ago. “Have you no shame?”

Then again, he still kept the pocket watch you had also gifted him. At least the gloves did not hold as much memory behind it. You dusted your hands and stood up inside the summoning circle. All the chalk was gone, along with the petals and tributes you used to bring him to the human realm. “Of course not, you should know that better than anyone else.”

The thumb atop his chin grew tense from his clenched hand. “Many things can change in one hundred years.” Had it really been so long? Last you had counted it was only eighty-two. The idea of time has grown so irrelevant over the years. A hundred years was barely a day in your life. For Barbatos, it was far less.

It felt normal when he took in your body before him. Every scar along your skin marked times that he had been there with you. His eyes stopped on the long one along your hip — the first you had received and the one he openly favoured. Barbatos only glanced for a moment at your crotch, there was no care or surprise. You would have preferred he kept his eyes down, but instead he decided to watch your eyes directly. It made you shy.

Not shy enough that you hid the body you both were familiar with. Instead you glanced away from his strong eyes, illuminated in teal and black. Even after the many millennia that had passed, his presence still commanded parts of you. The glowing of his eyes in complete darkness was still a spark that illuminated fire within you.

“Let’s not waste anymore of your time, Barbatos,” his silhouette has grown to take over the whole room, extinguishing each candle you laid. His horns scratched further against the roof as he took a step closer to you. In avoidance, you turned and groped the desk for a vial. “You should know why I’ve summoned you.”

The whip of his tail gave you pause. It slithered around your leg and stroked at your ass. The scraping on the roof continued. A century without the touch — your body nearly succumbed in an instant. “I’m surprised it took you so long to contact me for more.” His point was far. Your last meeting had been strange, you hadn’t wanted it to ever end… so you ran. The memory of Barbatos haunted you each night in punishment for your cowardice.

You turned back to him, clenching your jaw to avoid reacting to the tail. Barbatos was barely an inch from you. Dusting from the roof rained down slowly as he angled his head softly, his same smile watching you. His tail coiled tighter around your leg while the tip slipped between each thigh. “I found someone else who offered me the same deal -“

“And price. I’m aware.” He took the vial from you with restraint. You nearly shivered at the touch of his gloves briefly against your hand. Hand-made just for him, well over five hundred years ago. His small smile the day you gifted it to him told you everything you needed to know. “I dealt with him accordingly.”

Your nod did little to distract from your small smile. Barbatos hasn’t changed. Your heart lurched in memory of the final words you’d spoken to one another.

I’m afraid I adore you.

…I’m sorry, but…

“Rumour was that he had lost a bet against Mammon.” He held the vial behind a sharp fang, allowing his venom to fill the vial. Its colour was shared with his eyes — glowing teal. You pressed a finger into your palm as the tail rubbed against your pussy. Each ridge and divot reminded your body of the lost flame Barbatos supplied within you. The one that only he could bring. “I assume that Lord Diavolo and Lucifer aided in that story?”

His eyes bore into you once again. You felt stuck in his web, much like it had been that first night you met. He had scared you so easily. You had never encountered a demon before, never practiced sorcery either. Barbatos had been surprised at your nativity to his word, even remarking so when the battle you called him for was won.

That night, covered in blood of the men you had begged he kill, was only the start of your alliance. “It would bring forth a bad reputation about the young Lord if people discovered that I slaughtered a demon out of pride,” his tail rubbed back and forth against you. Wet slipped against it and down your inner thighs. You supposed it was your own fault for the demon’s death. There were far easier ways of collecting his venom that didn’t involve sex. The relationship was bound to return to Barbatos eventually. You were surprised it had lasted the eighty years that it did.

Refusing to turn from the man in front of you, you placed the venom behind you on the desk. “I suppose it would. Though you did leave me with a few years of no venom at all.”

When it came to collection with the demon, it was far more frequent. You needed to visit him at least once a year to keep your supply. Though, it was smart that he had made numerous vials in anticipation for your last visit. Asmodeus had once mentioned over a manicure that many demons were allured by you. You blamed that on your status and the lack of pacts you made to get there.

None, to be specific. The closest one you ever got was Barbatos, and you refused to make it official. “Shouldn’t you have needed more?” With him, collection was more complex. The withdrawal of venom was easy and the strength of it lasted far longer than another’s. The sex that would follow was where it got complicated. You never wanted him to leave when it was done.

Though you were the one who left him the last time. “We had more frequent meetings than you and I.” His furious smile only got brighter. A clawed hand moved to your hips, digging into your skin. You hadn’t squirmed, hadn’t jumped, nothing when he touched you. It was all you had wanted for years. The tip of his tail dip up into your slit, circling your hole. “His was simply not as potent as yours, Barbatos.”

A growl vibrated in his chest. Behind your back he pulled each glove off, returning cold hands to your boiling skin. A century had done nothing to aid your need for him. After many lifetimes of constant encounters, shared murmurs and longing touches you would never be rid of it. “Could you say that again for me, little lamb? Your compliment… it simply feels far too nice to hear only once.”

The name gave you pause. Just how long had it been since he called you that? At least one or two thousand years. You’d grown out of the lamb wandering around a world of wolves. Barbatos, maybe one of the biggest dangers around, helped you to do so.

“What is this?” The demon materialised before you. He wore a uniform and vest, broken pocket watch hung in the breast pocket. White gloves tapped at his chin in curiosity. You shivered on the dirt ground of the forest, his glowing eyes were shifting back and forth. “A little lamb conducting a first ritual?”

Your cheeks were puffy from tears and your white gown torn in your hasty run. “Can you help me?” Your hands were shaking — the summoning circle worked. The women in the cabin were right. You tried to fix your hair and stand, wobbly legs made you fall. “Please, I need you to save me.”

Like you said, you had known Barbatos for many lifetimes.

“I haven’t heard that for a while…” you hummed and lifted a chin to look up at him. In the Devildom, your heights were more equal, but in your realm his monstrous species had more height. An inability to completely hide their true nature from humans. “I think the last time was soon after the brothers fell.”

His claws went to your cheek. Even with his fury of being taken from the ball, from your running away, his touch was as gentle as it always had been. His crooked finger caressed your cheek one and you leaned into it without fight. “You’ve always been my lamb.” There it was again; your fear. Even after so long with each other the softness he spoke with scared you. Pacts, love… you couldn't stand it. It was constricting. It was the lock that kept you strained. It was the marriage you had narrowly escaped with Barbatos’ help.

You cleared your throat and fixed your head. “The fact your venom is stronger is simply that. A fact. I am certain you already know that too.” His circling tail at your hole continued its torment. More slick showered down it and your thighs. His cheeks flushed pink and his claws held you tighter. “You have to return soon Barbatos. Would you prefer our usual deal or instead like something else as payment?”

His tail slipped inside of you without another word. You gasped in surprise at his haste. The curling of his tail around your thigh and down your ass was mimicked inside of you. “What I always want.” The hand along your oldest scar, his favourite, traced the wound with a fond softness. Your legs shivered as his tail dug deeper within you, his palm pressed to your gut to ensure your moan.

“Barb,” you huffed between each shallow breath he allowed you. The claw from your cheek teased down to your neck, tracing the rope marks from the witch trials centuries ago. You could remember that day. Once you'd been caught in the trap, Barbatos burned the whole town to the ground and saved you. “You… what're you…”

His thrusting tail grew in speed, halting your words. It had been so long, you clenched around the tail with an airy cry of pleasure. Barbatos leaned in and shushed you with his kiss. Messy and needy — completely unlike him. Even the first time you'd lain together, everything was proper and respectful. Even when he used his tail it was tame! His fangs locked with your teeth and his long tongue pressed in.

It was no secret that his tongue was long and forked. You had kissed him many times before and he had licked at your cunt even more. Yet again, it was different. Far less restraint. One of his arms grabbed your leg and folded it over while the other pulled at your hair. His tongue was deep in your throat. Air was limited. Your body shook in his hold and he only held you tighter.

The sloppy noise of his tail fucking you spurred you further. You never thought it would be something that made you aroused. He was always clean with you! Quiet even when you were babbling with tears in your eyes. You had long relied on passion through his gazes. Not his intimate actions.

You whimpered around his tongue and fisted at his hair in return. He moved you both against the wall, your back pressed against photos and diplomas. His actions had your hips gyrating right against him. His clothed erection against your cunt. A shiver ran through your back, imagining both his cock and tail ruining you.

The fire in you was successfully sparked by Barbatos once again. You thumbed at the base of his horns and he growled, chest vibrating against you. His tail curled down itself for girth and stretched you. Your hips lifted from the wall as you got closer. So close.

Only Barbatos.

His tongue left your mouth as you came along his thick tail. You cried and moaned together while tugging at his hair, rubbing your face against his neck. His claws held you tight and pressed into your skin without puncture. His dishevelled appearance looked glorious. His kiss and biting at your neck felt even better.

“That's it,” he whispered into your ear as his tail slowed down in its thrusts. When it left entirely, even undoing its coils around your body, you felt empty. The endings were always your least favourite part. You supposed you deserved it after how you had left things with him. What kind of person just runs away when someone confesses their love? “You did so well, my little lamb.”

Again with the nickname. You moved away from his warmth and looked up to your damaged room. Why couldn't you have admitted you shared the love he felt? There wasn't even a mention of marriage, pacts, anything. You had just left your mind to wonder about the horrid things you feared. “You haven't -”

“It doesn't matter,” he let go of your leg and gently placed you down on the floor. First, he collected his gloves from the desk while ducking his head to avoid ruining your roof further. He fixed his hair and attire that you had successfully dishevelled. “I have to return to the young Master’s castle.”

You hid your pout behind a stiff lip and turned up nose. Was this how he felt that night one hundred years ago? Was his soul also crushed at the sight of your back turned to him? “Of course. I'm sure he and all the guests are waiting for you.” He nodded and placed his gloves back on. Your heart clenched that he had kept them.

“Goodbye, lamb,” his pride was as high as your own. You should have known he would want you to suffer as he had. How stupid could you be? A single moment of love would not forgive years of agony.

“Goodb-”

You were cut off by him kissing you once more. His gloved hands held your cheeks as he pushed you back to the wall, teeth clashing with yours. Yet again, he had caught you off guard. Your heart thumped loudly, you were sure he could feel it in your chest. “I’ll return tomorrow night,” he pulled away and pressed his forehead against you. He… wasn't mad?

That was more like him. Barbatos was one of the most patient and proper beings you had met in your long long life. It was something you loved about him. But, as he disappeared out the door to his home, you couldn't help but smile at the venomous passion he hid.

Though, that was reserved just for you.

© belphegorey 2024 ⌜18+ banner from @/cafekitsune thank you <3⌟

notes ⎯⎯ i am in love with barbatos :)

[romaevelizz]

Venus ˖ ࣪⊹

Severus Snape x Wife!Reader

sum: Over 15 years together. Their love was never second guessed or had changed, but was destroyed by something bigger than them.

warnings: Angst, cursing, mentions of children(their parents), character death. not proofread.

“I’m tired Severus..”

His eyes looking up at the women, his wife. He knew she was tired that she wanted this all to be over. She wanted to feel safe, she wanted for their children to be safe. He wanted nothing more than to make that possible for them, for his girls. But life’s not as simple as taking his family far away from the dangers of hogwarts and The Dark Lord.

The Darkness of their private chambers surrounded them, the only light coming from the fire, he hated seeing her cry. Her gentle hands whipping away the tears that ran down her face, the golden ring on her left hand that glistens. A symbol of their love, their trust, their devotion. As Severus made his way close to her he reached out his hands, them cupping her face carefully.

His eyes watched her carefully, part of him wanting to hear her thoughts, but they were still, just like he taught her. She was tierd her dark features showing the circles under her eyes the wrinkle in her brow become more profound, she was washed out her warm undertone now cool. His thumbs gently brushed her tears away, his hands pulling her close to him. Severus placed soft kisses on her temple, “I’m so sorry my dear..” he whispered into her hair placing another kiss.

He wanted to go Home, he wanted to take his girls home away from her but he couldn’t. She couldn’t ask him either because she knew, she knew that this was asked of him. That’s this was expected of him. He held her close as close as he could.

She couldn’t stand how the students were getting treated how her children’s lives were threatened if Severus didn’t follow through with the plans. Yet as plans proceed, things became more dangerous. Dangerous to the point of war, “They can’t stay here, if war were to break out who knows what would become of the castle.” Her hushed tone argued with her husband.

“If our girls leave from his line of sight god knows what he’d do, they’re safest here.”

“Zhuriya can stay, she’s the one he’s most fascinated with yes? She strong and able to protect herself, she had already planed on fighting alongside her classmates if things were to happen.” She hissed, “But Sa’diya and Elani can’t, for gods sake Elani is mearly months old and Diya is 5.”

He shook his head “They’re Safest her, please. Please don’t take them or leave them with someone else.” He spoke his tone begging for her to trust him and to not do anything rash that could put her in danger let alone their babies.

Moments of peace weren’t common by any means but even in the dark of times he could feel at ease. The dark of the night the cries of the newborn could be heard, yes at first it can cause worry. Hushing his wife back to sleep he spotted his 5 year old curled against her mother, kissing her head he slipped out of bed to retrieve the youngest. Her soft cries nothing out of the ordinary, just her vocally sharing her discomfort and hunger.

He hummed picking the baby out of her crib, the hushed tone of his voice immediately calming her down. By no means was another child apart of their plan of the dark lords take over nor a new born at that, a new born that was a bit more difficult than their other two. “hmm hello sweet girl… what causes you such distress..” He cooed craddeling Elani in his arms.

As he walked into the living room there sat his eldest candle lit by her side and book in her lap, her body curled up on the couch as she read. “I was going to get her.” Zhuriya spoke her gaze not leaving her book.

He hummed “There’s no need, hoping i don’t have to wake your mother to feed her,” he paused for a moment whispering a quick spell lighting the fire place. “reasoning to why your not in bed?” he asked standing next to the arm of the couch she rested on.

“no classes tommorow, and simply couldn’t sleep.” she spoke her tone flat, just as his always was.

his brows frowned, Severus knew his eldest and knew she could sleep in any situation. She was having nightmares again, at least that’s what he called them, to her they were types of visions in a way showing her things in the future. Sometimes, actually almost all the time they came true even if they were just close calls. “You want to talk about it?”

She looked up slightly “Their just nightmares right?” shifting in her seat she closed her book and sat up “They don’t mean anything.” she finished placing her book down walking past him into the kitchen.

“Zhuriya..” He called them nightmares to comfort her in a way or at least tried to comfort her, but in the end these dreams were always right. He watched as his eldes daughter grabbed a bottle that just needed heating up, quick wave of her wand it was perfect.

“You can go back to be dad i got her.”

Severus took the bottle form her, “I have her, now please. Tell me what you’re seeing, your mind is to still to invade it.” he spoke his tone a bit teasing at the end.

Ushering her back to the living space they both sat down, Zhuri next to her Father as he fed the baby. She played with her fingers as she built up the courage to say something, she looked just like her mother when she worried. Her dark curls covering her face as she looked down, “The Elder Wand.” she spoke softly.His attention was on her, what about it? what about the elder wand kept her from sleeping?

When her gaze met his he saw her waterlines building with tears, “When Draco, well when you disarmed Dumbledore, the elder wand no longer belongs to him. The master you could say is the person who disarms the last holder..” she spoke her voice shaky, “Now The Dark Lord has it. But It will never truly fully obey him unless.”

“Unless I’m killed.” he finished for her. He watched her lip quiver as she nodded.

Severus pulled her close to him, baby still in arms. There wasn’t anything he could say to comfort her because with that simple explanation it was inevitable. “Shh, My sweet girl..”

“I saw That snake sink it teeth into you. He didn’t even spare you the suffering, god.” her she spoke in a muffled cry. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head his arm still holding her close.

“Zhuriya, Baby what’s wrong?” the worried voice of her mother causing them to look up. ‘Don’t tell her what you told me, please my dear i need her to rest easy..’

He felt her nod against him “Baby what’s the matter?” she asked again now closer bending down infront of their daughter.

“Just stress of school, wondering if Draco is safe..” She muttered. Y/n held her daughters face kissing her daughters cheeks softly. The two exchanged some words he kinda shut down, He’d die? No, he couldn’t not while he’s still active he couldn’t leave them, He couldn’t leave Y/n.

“Severus.. Sev baby?” Y/ns voice broke him out of his trace.

He hummed “Let’s go to bed.. Elani is out and Zhuri is going to head back to bed. I put Diya back in her bed but don’t be surprised if she’s in yours Z..” she hummed.

Zhuri shook her head a small smile tugging at her lips “She struggling to stay in her own bed?”

His wife nodded “She’s just at the age and with everything going on…”. Zhuri nodded“right.. Goodnight mama, night Daddy. I love you guys.” Zhuriya said before heading towards her room.

As she left to room His wife looked at him, “what was that?” she asked. She knew that her daughter had lied to her.

Severus shook his head as he approached her, his hands falling to the side of her arms. With a kiss to her temple he whispered “Tis nothing my love, let’s return to bed..” his works comforting as he hugged her and the baby in her arms. The hug lingered Severus closing his eyes tightly as he embraced her.

He spend every day since that night taking in as much as he could with him girls but knowing when he’d be taken from them. Showing them his love for them in affection he never really displayed, kissed to the temple, constant I love yous, hugs. Everything he could.

Y/n knew something was wrong but nobody would tell her, she was left in the darkness of his affection. How cruel of him to keep this but, he couldn’t just tell her, his wife that he’d die in days time. That soon it would be the last time he’d kiss her and embrace her, after years of being by her side. She’d lose her mind knowing that he’d die as some point and end up trying to prevent it.

Severus felt his heart stop when that moment the dark lord started explaining to him the reason of his wand now fully working for him was because of him. He knew that this was that moment. He knew that morning was the last time he’d see his girls and by gods they weren’t even fully happy. He wouldn’t get to see them happy again and it’s his fault.

“Promise me, by killing me you won’t touch them. You wont hurt my family.”

Laying on the cold ground, the taste of his own blood sickening to him. Potter was the first to find him, “Just hold on professor, please just hold on.” He spoke. Harry’s trembling hands left his throat as he got up.

“Y/n… i’m so sorry..” his voice soft as he cried out for his wife.

He would die here alone, maybe it was better that way. He could feel his heart to slow down, the difficulty of breathing becoming harder. He begun to close his eyes, just as he did, just as he was about to let himself take his last breath.

Her voice. “Severus! no! No, no, no..”

The cry of his name leaving her mouth. opening his eyes he saw her rushing towards him.

No, don’t do this. His heart begun to break watching as she fell to her knees her hands immediately falling to his wound. He couldn’t hear was she was saying her voice muffled as she could only watch her, his weak hand finding her face as she sobbed.

Her beautiful features covered in tears, dirt and blood. Even as distraught as she was she was still so beautiful, His heart heavy as she trembled her touch becoming shaken. With the strength he had left he brought her close to him, her hands never leaving their spot.

“I’m sorry.” he whispered.

Her heavy cries begging him not to leave yet. That she needed him, that his girls needed him still. Her hushed tones say that this wasn’t fair, “You’ve only ever done what’s asked of you..” she said lifting her head looking him in the eyes.

“They’ve done nothing but set you up for your own death. It’s not fair….” she cried her fire heat touching his, he felt her tears on his own face.

“You didn’t ask for this life..” he rasped , “This wasn’t the life i promised you… I love you so much.” he cried softly.

“you’ve done more that enough for me, for us.”

with a heavy breath she begun again “I couldn’t ask for anything more from you..” she could feel his touch become softer his hand falling from her.

In this moment was their love was destroyed by The man everyone feared.

She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t bear losing another one of her boys, the lose of their first and only son, her father and now him. the most important men in her life always dying off like this with her begging from them not to leave her. Them always calling out her name before she could save them.

She couldn’t lose him too, but perfect could keep this love alive his death was inevitable. wasn’t it. this was always the way he’d be taken from her. She couldn’t tell him how he couldn’t have lister her vetted that he was always the man she asked for. But in the end they were always ment to say goodbye.

Severus became cold to her touch. “Thank you.. Thank you for loving me, loving me better than anyone ever has.” he spoke, his breath horsed.

“I love you so, i love you so much Y/n.” He said his finally breath in play.

He could bear it, But in this moment was the best way he could’ve died, in her arms, her weight on him. With her his death could be peaceful. He wasn’t alone, she wouldn’t ever let him be alone. Not in their years of hogwarts, Not when his parents died, not when he first got his mark, not when he begun to close him self off, not now. He promised her no matter how long he’d have to wait, in every universe in every timeline he’d wait for her. Even if he died alone. Cause how could such a women be left by her self, how could he love another women as he did her?

Even in death he still looked so gorgeous, but god did looking at him make this harder. But she had to accept it she couldn’t save him, Not with out her taking her own life and even then who knew if it be sucssesful, She couldn’t leave her children orphans.

He was still holding on, she couldn’t imagine the pain he was in the sharp sting of venom in his body. “Fuck..” she cursed shaking her head.

“I know… I know it’s time for you to go.. it’s- It’s okay.” she cried softly, her permission letting him close his eyes.

Letting go gently she fell into his chest, his heart no longer beating. He was really gone. Covered in his blood she held on to him for a bit longer.

All severus as done was do was was told on him, he never did anything not asked of him. Dumbledore and Voldemort i’d be planing his death for years. For years the only light and care he’d experience was with his girls. Now he’s never see them again.

Even though he was.. well dead his brain wasn’t he could still feel her presents, hear her voice. surrounded by Darkness the last thing he heard was his eldest. Her blood curtailing scream, That was was last thing he had to remember hearing. His first daughter and his wife screaming his name, their cries together unbearable to his heart.

Just one last chance, that all he wanted, he couldn’t leave them.. he could put them through that pain. His heart ached.

“Severus…” His name was called out, Y/ns voice ringing trough his headspace.

“Severus, my love..”

He felt his eyes open, his body sitting up quickly his hand falling on to his chest quickly his hands touching his throat.

“Shhh, Shh it’s okay…” she hushed her hand falling or his chest and back, her body sitting up already.

His Eyes fell on her, her brows frowned, quickly he brought her into any embrace.. “Sev it’s okay.. It’s been over.. Your okay. You’re safe now you’re here with us.” she whispered her arms hugging him back.

“how long..”

“5 months..” she said.

He nodded him still holding her. Opening his eyes he notices the were in their private chambers at hogwarts. This bc had gone back to normal, he was at work again, he knew his two youngest were in their rooms sleeping soundly. His eldest away Exploring and studying in Russia.

Pulling back he looked as he in the eyes “Were safe, our girls are safe.” she reassured again.

“I know i just.. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.” he spoke simply kissing her lips.

[praisethegabs]

REQUIEM FOR A DREAM

leon s. kennedy x reader

synopsis: life found death, knowing they couldn't be together. life wasn't ready to give up, so he craved desperately for something human: love.

warnings: small drabble, an AU to let you guys know i'm still alive. mostly fluff.

word count: 663

a/n: small one shot to compensate all the time i was absent from here. love y'all ❤️

He doesn’t remember exactly when he was born or how long it’s been. Maybe since the Earth’s first day? Perhaps he was there at the creation? Who knows? It’s been a very long time, and he’s sure he’s old enough to remember how he ended up here.

Of all the names he has, his favorite is Leon. He doesn’t know why, but it suits him, and he likes it.

His touch is like gold. Whatever he touches, he can bring to life because he *is* life. He creates things, giving them their first breath. At first, he enjoyed being responsible for such an important job, but Leon felt something was missing.

He loved observing human life progressing in its own way. But after so many centuries alone, he started to feel bored. He had the power to create life, but it wasn’t enough. He felt a void inside his chest, craving something he couldn’t understand. Deep down, he wanted to experience love. He wanted to be loved.

He wanted to be human.

Everything changed when Leon discovered he wasn’t alone. And you weren’t exactly like him; you were his opposite. While Leon was life, surrounded by light, you were death and the darkness that followed. While he created, you ended.

The moment his eyes met yours, it was instant. But there was a huge problem: you two couldn’t be together because life was the beginning, and death was the final destination. With a feeling he couldn’t understand, he knew he needed to let you go.

But Leon wasn’t ready to give up. He started creating things just for you. The symbolism of his gifts made you fall in love with him, even though you both knew it was impossible. At first, you felt guilty for accepting his gifts, but he wanted to show you he didn’t care. They were yours because he loved you, and if this was the only way to be with you, then he wouldn’t mind doing it until the end of time.

Every time he sent you a gift, he imagined how it would feel to touch you, to feel you against his fingertips, to taste your lips. Maybe this was the human experience he had always longed for.

The feeling became so intense that you two couldn’t stand being apart; you hated the fact that you couldn’t touch him. How could you love something without being able to feel it? Why couldn’t the two of you have what humans had?

One day, however, something happened.

Seeing the two of you suffer, the Universe itself decided to bless you and Leon. There was a specific day in the year when you two could actually be together. The first time Leon touched you, he froze. He never expected you to be so soft, so kind. And when your lips met, it was like everything else made sense.

When you both tasted each other for the first time, it felt like the universe could explode. But that night, unfortunately, had to end, and when the day arrived, you had to be apart again.

One day wasn’t enough because you both had the overwhelming need to be together, and this could bring imbalance to the universe itself. It could cause the destruction of everything. For many ages, you only had one day with him, and there was nothing you or he could do.

But it wasn’t enough. You both wanted more.

Upon seeing this pain, the Universe decided to bless the two of you again. This time, however, was completely different. One day, you were no longer surrounded by darkness. Your touch no longer brought death.

You were alive, just like him. You were human. You had given up your immortality to live a human life with him. Leon was willing to give up his own immortality to be with you, and the fact that you two would someday die didn’t scare him.

He had you, and that was all that mattered.

[yan-lorkai]

Hello , i hope your doing great . Would you please do a scenario for yandere undertaker and yandere sebastian (separately) x fem reader. Reader doesn't want to marry them so she tries to run away away at the wedding day but fails and gets captured ? Thank you ❤

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, fem reader, kidnapping, implied murder, threats.

Marriage is nothing more than a union between two people before God, so for Sebastian this does not carry the same meaning. For him, marriage only symbolizes what in his conception is already true: that you are his in every way and now the marriage certificate proves it. Even if you oppose to this marriage, Sebastian doesn't care.

Although he would love for you to give your opinion on the decorations or the type of cake you would like have at the wedding, he knows you are still in denial so he plans everything himself. From the hanging chandelier, to the flowers in the bouquet, to the dress you're wearing that he sewed himself, every little detail meticulously planned to be perfect.

He knows that humans like to be surrounded by their parents, relatives and friends on a special day like these, and if you had behaved they would all really be here. But it's better this way, just you, him and the priest who officiated the ceremony. That way he doesn't have to kill your parents and friends in front of you when you shout and scream about everything you've been through with him. Even though part of him wished this had happened, with no one else out there waiting for you, looking for you, praying, you would have only him. Only him.

Maybe he would kill them and return to your side, blood dripping from his hands and face as he kisses and touches you. Maybe he would even tell you what he did and how he did it to observe your reactions. If you like to act like he's the biggest evil in the world, maybe he'll give you a reason to hate and fear him. Maybe, but he won't act on those thoughts if you don't force his hand. The same hand with which he fixes your hair and makes your makeup, circling you to get a view of you from all sides.

"I will wait for you at the altar, my dear," His tone was soft, but there was an implicit promise of death in his eyes, a bloodthirsty glint that you had been able to witness many times before. Just for a second longer Sebastian stands there, looking at you through the mirror and then he smiles and leaves.

Your heart beats quickly inside your chest, it beats like it has never beat before. Your nerves are on edge, but you have to calm down and take a deep breath. You know what Sebastian is, you know how strong he is, but you know that an opportunity like that is unique and you must take advantage of it. You must escape now.

Running away isn't hard, well, actually it is a little, because you're wearing a dress and high heels but you kick them all and hold them hem of your dress up. And you run. You run as you never ran on your life. You know Sebastian is busy with tons of things, plus you are supposed to come a little late, as you are the bride. But you clearly underestimate him.

He may not be with you physically but as a demon he has his ways of knowing where you are and how you are, he can feel your heart beating, he can taste your fear and apprehension. And he loves it, he loves knowing your fear him, to know you are opposed to this marriage, given time he knows you come around.

But for now he enjoys the chase. He excuse himself for a moment to go meet you halfway through your attempting escape. You can hear his beautiful little laugh, can see his shadows but when you look behind your shoulder there's nothing there. He is playing with you, getting you even more frightened before trapping you in his arms so tight not even air can arrive at your lungs. His hand closes on your throat as he look at you, eyes red with animalistic excitement. "Dear me, look what we have here." He muses, watching you breathe hard, beads of sweat running down your forehead.

"Sebastian... What a pleasure to see here." Your reply is sarcastic, weak. But it makes him smile as he caress your face lovingly, as lovingly as a demon can, though you feel dirty at every touch, at every moment you're trapped under his creepy stare.

"You run away like a little lost mouse so I've came to get you back right where you belong. Don't make things harder than necessary, darling." It's his final warning. You know, you can feel in your bones that if you are to try anything again he would retaliate.

He has been doing a great job at keeping his demonic tendencies in check even when you snarled and yelled at him those past few weeks. But there truly nothing you could do? There was nothing you could try? His hand held yours, guiding you, the oppressive silence making you even more uncomfortable.

And when the priest asked "do you accept this man as your lawful and only husband?" All you could do was stare at him, tongue numb, members tired before answering. "I do."

And like a mouse, you were caught in Sebastian's trap. One you could never escape.

⠀⠀

Marriage. What a strange concept. Why people get married, that's what Undertaker thought when checking humans' memories. They all got married, they all had children, they all had their ups and downs together, yet they loved each other. Is love really that essential for humans? He didn't know, but he had a lot of questions to ask. And many of them answered themselves when you appeared in his life.

You had recently lost someone and like a wounded bird, you walked into his funeral home. It was like destiny. It was like a lever had been pulled in his brain, like he could finally see colors and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin after so long without those things. He was drawn to you, enchanted by your words. And everything else was history.

Undertaker knew that humans are fragile and fearful, and he tried to woo you the right, human way. Giving you flowers, walking with you, hearing you talk. And everything would have worked out if you hadn't discovered that he wasn't human, that he was a Shinigami and desperately tried to get away from him. He didn't want to kidnap nor threaten you but he grown desperate. He didn't want to lose the feelings you gave him, he didn't want to let you go. So he did what was necessary, he gave you a new home, he gave you books and lines for you to sew and weave if you wanted. He gave you everything you wanted but your freedom.

A marriage was bound to happen because he wanted you to experience this little enjoy. But also because he wanted to tie you to him even more, to make you his wife and be able to truly calls his wife. The ceremony is not as beautiful and organized as Sebastian's, but he supposes is the thought that counts. He buys you a really cute white dress and make-up, and he lets you get ready alone. As the bride and the groom can't see each other till they're both on the altar or something like this, honestly he doesn't understand this saying. Why can't he see you? He wants to see you!

But he controls himself, he has to. He stands on the altar with the priest at his side. He hums and waits impatient. Meanwhile you is running away so hard that everything else turns into a blur, people, voices, sounds, smells, everything is a blur as you run and pray for someone to save you. Anyone. Tears flow from your eyes when in the distance you see his silvery long hair and dangerous green eyes staring at you. You tremble, biting your lip so hard not to scream that you can taste blood on your tongue, you force your legs to work more than they can handle, you're sure later on your feet would be filled with blisters but you don't care about it now.

Though it's not enough. It's not enough and you hated it. You hear him mumbling while he catches up with you, a part of you is surprised he isn't actually going to pull his scythe from wherever he keep it and reap your soul right here and now. The part of you who is still in love with him wavers for a second, you think only for a second if it's worth to try, if you actually can win against him, if can actually escape and your hesitation is all he needs for him to close his arms around your body tightly. He breathes hard, warm air hitting your neck as you feel him still against you, afraid of losing you. Afraid of losing everything.

"Why did you run, sugar? Wasn't I good enough for you? Didn't I treat you right?" He was whispering right at your ear. And that was much more scarier than having him screaming or having him threatening to hit you. "Don't you love me anymore? That can't be, right? You must be a little scared, oh sweetheart I know marriage is a big step but everything's going to be fine. I can take care of everything, leave all the work to me."

As if to made you pity him even more, you could little tears streaming down his face and onto your back, timidly, slowly. A sour taste lingers on your mouth. You can't escape now. You can't escape now that he is so on alert, every little move you make would be under his eyes. You can't escape now but you certainly can play your card right. And the right thing to do now was surrender yourself. Surrender and wait for an opportune moment.

For now you let him fix your dress and hair carefully, and then drag you to that damned altar. It's suffocating, insufferable. And there's nothing you can do about it. He holds your hand as he slips the ring into your finger and look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"I do." You say as you stare at him. In the future your attempt would be successful but for now you may entertain him.

[meraki-sunset]

having a hard time explaining grimdark and trickster to a friend

think you can help?

they get godtier just fine but the other two keep confusing them because right now they think

grimdark = chaos in anarchy sense, but trickster = chaos in haha funny meme sense

Sure, let me see…

GRIMDARK mode is described by Doc scratch as “going completely off the deep end in every way”.

It turns your skin an unnatural dark gray, and in rose’s case to be surrounded by a dark aura, while jade had a spacey green aura.

It’s basically a black magic power up deeply connected to the horroterrors, a state of mind that comes from letting them influence a broken mind. For Rose, it was the death of her mother, and then trying to reveal the horror terror’s secrets. For Jade, she was heartbroken, but also she got mind controlled into entering the grimdark state by the condesce, who is also connected to the horrorterrors.

As an extra, Hussie described Eridan as also going into grimdark when he began murdering people, tho his case must’ve been more symbolical, as he presented the perfect scenario to become grimdark, the complete loss of hope, waiting for Jack to kill them all (due to his title being prince of hope, ergo Destroyer of hope) added to Feferi breaking their moiraliance talking with Sollux, being the detonator for his broken mind, and him being a Derse player, so his dream self was around the horroterrors and had interacted with them prior, he was also interested in magic like rose, had a wand just like her and sought for answers about, like her. He just lacked the connection to the horroterrors in that crucial moment.

So Grimdark is basically when the horroterrors cause the player's most primal and violent tendencies to be pushed to the forefront

The grimdark is also described a “the fabled blackdeath trance of the woegothics”. So a dark trance that people like Rose and Eridan are inclined to fall victim of (in my opinion)

TRICKSTER mode, in the other hand, is described by Calliope as something that brings out your full potential, that brings all your walls down and puts all your inner thoughts in the outside and all your creative power in your hands. It strips you from all social and mental barrier.

It gives you reality altering Powers, allowing you to jump from place to place, probably dimension hopping, manifest objects and makes you super happy and candy colored to the point of losing grip in reality

The problem is that cherubs are very different from humans. For a cherub, who is supposed to fly around in the endless space protecting/destroying a certain part of the void, and its inhabited planets, feeding of black holes, fighting entities to death to ultimately mate in the shape of a big ass snake, a juju that’s basically drugs that can make you forget every wall you built up floating around space alone, and move forward as a happy missile ready to find a mate sounds good. But humans are social creatures, and cherubs are not. Cherubs don’t answer to anyone and don’t have Friends, they don’t need to follow any social cues. Humans built their relationships carefully, and they have secrets and barriers to protect themselves and others. They hide things like crushes and resentment and problems, because well, for the sake of peace, for the sake of not braking every relationship they have. That’s something that Calliope and Caliborn never fully grasped and understood why the kids came to hate the juju when they woke up

So that’s all I could gather. Essentially they are different kinds of power ups, opposite to one another at their core, BUT in both the person isn’t fully there and is being guided by primal instincts, be it rage/sadness or Hope/happiness and they both have consequences in the user because neither is supposed to be used on humans or even trolls.

[thepixelelf]

warnings: almost drowning, attempted human sacrifice, mentions of death. wc: 660

[meet me beneath the waves] The rocks just below the foaming froth of the sea — hidden to anyone above and yet so close to the surface one could stand atop and still reach the air with their fingertips — are cruel and unforgiving. To any stranger, they slant and protrude in unfamiliar ways. All townsfolk know to stay clear of the cliff's edge, where tales of hardship and misery against these rocks have been warned for years.

Jeonghan lies on a small bed of sand among the familiar chaos of the sea floor, not at all unwelcome to the jagged rocks surrounding him. His hands rest casually behind his head as he stares up through the froth of the surface. Glimpses of the sky festival greet him in moments through the white waves; colourful balloons and kites with long, extravagant streamers dangling from the seams fill the blue sky.

For the humans, another year has come and gone. They launch meaningless items and intricacies into the air from the nearby beach instead of the cliffs, all of them still too afraid of the sea and yet fascinated by the sky.

He calls the traditions meaningless, but each year, he finds himself returned to the sand bed near the cliffs, eyes focused on the sky's colourful interruptions.

It is peaceful until you fall.

Your back breaches the water directly above him, and his eyes widen at the sudden intrusion. One of your hands is outstretched, uselessly reaching for the surface while you remain motionless. Two red, floating ribbons adorn your wrists.

You sink and sink and sink, unmoving if not for the way you come closer and closer.

Entranced, he reaches up towards you, his fingertips brushing your flowy white garb.

You jolt.

As if life rushes through you with a second chance, you twist in the water to see Jeonghan. Shock paints your face, and he watches the realization set in.

He is a water walker, he sees in your eyes. You are going to die. He is going to kill you.

Perhaps if he hadn't come today for the festival, you would have fallen off the cliffs and found the end of your life in the rocks and the waves. Perhaps if he watched from somewhere safer you would have let yourself sink and sink and sink some more.

Perhaps if the human who had undoubtedly thrown you from the cliff's edge — the red ribbons a symbol of sacrifice from generations passed — had chosen to do so only so many feet to the left or right, you would have died.

But fate landed you above this sand bed, above him.

You want to swim away, to escape, he can see that, but the harsh impact from when you hit the water has made your muscles stiff and weak. The air is quickly leaving your lungs.

He reaches up again and grabs both your wrists, pulling you closer through the water. You thrash against his hold, eyes scrunched shut in fear as you vehemently shake your head.

Not like this, he feels in your movement. Please, not like this.

His hands cover the red ribbons — he can't stand to look at them and the human fears they represent — and he presses his thumbs into the palms of your hands. You continue to fight back, but the energy behind it seeps out of you. If you weren't surrounded by saltwater, Jeonghan thinks you would be crying.

He knows what he will do next will not be approved, but he can't find it in himself to care.

The cruel world of humans may have rejected you, but the sea will take you in.

Before the life can drain from you completely, he removes one hand from your wrist and moves it to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. Jeonghan presses his lips to the cold skin of your forehead; a blessing no human above surface knows.

And you breathe again.

[madamdionysia]

Plasma (Law x GN!Reader)

Summary: Law never brings up his tattoos and their story. Then you ask him one day.

Word Count: 1,056

Read on Ao3

Dividers By: @cafekitsune (thank you for all of your work!)

Notes: My thoughts about Law's tattoos and how Corazon caught fire spiraled into this. I also don't go in depth with the Donquixote Family side of matters, including the exact details of Cora's spying and muteness. It's mostly just a conversation between Law and the reader about his tattoos that could be read platonically or romantically. My medical knowledge isn't up to par with Law's, but I did my best.

Takes place sometime post-Zou.

Unedited (mostly) but I'm still happy with how it turned out.

Fun facts:

Ancient tattoo pigments were made from soot, charcoal, and such.

Plasma is a component of blood, but it is also used to describe a state of matter. Whether or not fire is a plasma depends mostly on its temperature.

It feels like an eon has passed since the question left your lips, tumbling to the ground between the two of you like dried timber ready to catch flame. Law’s lips parted, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he tugged his hat over his face and schooled his expression with such rapidity you would have thought you offended him. But you know him better. Offering him your silence while he gathered himself wasn’t uncommon in this relationship, and Law was grateful for it right now as his inked hands ran through his hair.

He sighed, a sound of his relentment, and let his power take you to his quarters. For his own privacy. He wasn’t one to show vulnerability. Between his duties as captain and doctor, as well as his troubled past, you knew he had to be quick to think and act. Emotions would only hinder that swiftness required for survival.

Law starts with his hands, the word DEATH across both knuckles. The irony of his profession is not lost on you until he detailed Doflamingo’s plot for Law to give his own life for the bastard’s eternal one. If Doflamingo wanted life, the healing touch of a doctor, Law would be certain that he would never get it. When you point out that most tattoos across the first phalanges face away from the owner of them, Law corrected you.

“Proximal phalanges.”

“Whatever.”

You punctuated your statement with an eye roll and continued listening to him. He obtained his Devil Fruit powers before his tattoos, this you knew, but since ascertaining much of his abilities he decided on the placement of the tattoos. Not only for that pink feathered demon, but also for his enemies in general. A warning for what was to become of them.

The back of his hand related to his medical knowledge, as did the central part of the forearm design. And the surrounding prongs of his Jolly Roger. All symbolizing the extruding envelope proteins of a virus. The remaining circular designs on his forearms were both reminiscent of another virus design but also incorporated the Room ability of his powers. The spiked spheres surrounding the viral symbols representing another aspect of his doctoral talents, much like the rest of his ink explained thus far.

“It’s also a lymphocyte eradicating a virus.”

“A what?”

“A white blood cell.”

“Oh. Well, at least your Jolly Roger tat is self-explanatory.”

“Yes and no, I’ll get to that.”

He took a deep breath, steading himself once more. Then he removes his shirt, folding it neatly beside him on the bed. He scratched at the back of his head, his ink stretching and flexing with the skin it's permanently embedded in. Law lets his arms fall back to his sides.

“I never tell those about the man that saved me…”

But here he was, detailing his early years to you regardless. You listen quietly, giving him the space to dredge the words up through memories long buried. The fire set to his hometown. The loss of his loved ones. The manipulation of Doflamingo and the subsequent escape with his brother.

“Corazon means heart. His brother awarded him the Heart Seat when he returned, feigning muteness…”

So this was how his upper arms earned their hearts, you thought, for the one who saved him.

“Muteness?”

“Part of his cover, let me get there.“

And apparently Corazon held a clumsy streak, nearly setting himself on fire multiple times. Law went off the subject for a moment to list the various pranks the other Donquixote family members would play on the poor guy. But as it turned out, Law found out that Doffy’s younger brother was a commander in the Marines. No one called him by his real name, except his eldest brother as Rosinante lay on his deathbed of snow.

“When I first joined the family, Corazon would try his hardest to get me to leave. He didn’t like seeing children under his brother’s influence.”

A pang echoed in your chest, like a can crumpling. No one should have been under that influence, but you kept this to yourself. You had decided you had interrupted Law enough during his explanation and that you didn’t want him to recede back internally with the memories. It was best that he lay them out, like his surgical tools cleansed and neatly arranged to be used for his benefit. Perhaps it was a good thing, you thought, for him to get all of this off of his chest. Though the ink would stay.

“The last time I saw him was with this huge grin…”

He gestured to the Jolly Roger embroidered on your clothes. A toothy, rebellious smile. Much like the tattoos on his hands, that defiant DEATH in the face of Doflamingo. You let out a low chuckle, letting your thoughts process it all.

“And this heart…”

He placed a hand over his chest now, palm covering that miniature grin as if to hold Corazon. Above his fingers spread the tendrils of flame, curved and clinging to his clavicles in such a way that they shifted and flickered like a real blaze.

“…Well, he was named for a heart and he caught on fire a lot…”

Law’s sweet, you realized, and had a wicked sense of humor. He elaborated that it initially symbolized that burning revenge he felt, a scorching desire to overcome the Heavenly Demon and take victory over him in memory of Corazon. Thoughts swirled in your head, ashes swept up by smoke. The conversation smoldered and glowed now like the remnants of the campfire on Zou, still warm and comforting against the chill of night.

“How come you never tell anyone else about your tattoos?”

“Too much explanation.”

“Then how come you told me?”

Law smirked and replied, “I don’t think I need to worry about you.”

Cryptic as always, you lamented, but he’s right. You weren’t one for divulging other’s secrets. Even as the conversation died out and Law shrugged his shirt back on, you couldn’t help but wonder if there’s anyone else that Law would let under his skin. If one day, the bridge between the two of you gave way to an inferno. That he would then collect the soot and charcoal left over, as deep as the pigment that’s marked on his body.

[venerawrites]

hi! could you write a naruto x reader fic where reader just moved to konoha and saw naruto being bullied and decides to help him? maybe they become friends after and naruto develops a crush on reader

thank you thats all!

author's note: my exams are getting near and I have not been super active lately, but writing this was a nice break for my brain and actually gave me a chance to recharge. I absolutely love Naruto and I am so happy I finally got my first request for him! I really hope you enjoy! x

warnings: none, but what was supposed to be fluff did turn into some light angst? (sorry, can't control myself); also gn! reader and characters aged to be over 18 towards the end;

"It should've been you, freak!"

The words were followed by a shove to the boy's chest, but it didn't hurt nearly as deep as the statement said. In a way, Naruto agreed with what the other kid was saying - maybe it shouldn't have been him buried deep underground, instead of the dozens of innocent lives that were taken by the demon sealed inside of him. Maybe death is indeed the better option compared to his life filled with loneliness and being hated by everyone in the village.

"Just leave me alone!", his voice came out weaker than he intended to and caused nothing but laughter by the five boys surround him.

"Or what, whisker boy?"

Naruto opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it again, once no good comeback came to his mind.

What was he going do?

He could try and fight them like last time, but with five versus one, he was bound to lose again. He could also run… but with 3 of the boys being a few years older and already training at the Academy, they would surely catch him. Alternatively, he could just sit and a hope for a miracle to happ-

“Get lost.”

The little pebble you held in your hand flew toward the head of one of the boys, forcing him to turn around with annoyance written all over his face. It took a few seconds for Naruto to locate where the voice came from, but once he spotted you, his breath hitched in his throat.

Just like an angel, sent straight from Heaven, you stood in the middle of the street, eyeing all of the boys with an unimpressed expression and with one of your hands playing with two more pebbles between your fingers. You must have been just a visitor since the blonde boy was sure he would have remembered you if he had seen you before. His eyes fell down towards the front of your vest, where a small scorpion was embodied in gold.

A clan symbol, that's for sure. But which?

"Who the heck are you?", the boy you hit yelled, his palm still rubbing the sore spot at the back of his head, "Go away before we make you go away."

A loud scoff escaped past your lips and before he could react, you threw a second stone at him, this time successfully hitting his left eye.

"Ow!", he screamed, and a few of his friends immediately rushed to his side, checking if he was okay. Moving their attention to you, their bodies tensed, instinctively taking a fighting stance. Naruto, on the other hand, stood behind them, still unsure of what was going on.

"I give you exactly ten seconds to run before I make you go away", you mimicked their earlier words, a note of challenge in your voice. Your threat was met with nothing but laughter and you narrowed your eyes at them, your fingers reaching to the little pouch attached to the side of your waist.

"Ha, like you can scare us aw- OW!", with no chance to finish, the boy, who you assumed was the leader of the gang, was hit again, this time in his other eye, making him stumble back. Calculating the distance between you and the other males, you expertly threw the rest of the stones in your hand in their direction, hitting each one without a miss.

Before he could realise what was happening, Naruto found himself facing you alone, his bullies now running quickly down the street. They kept shouting some curses and threats back at you, their words mixing together and making it impossible to actually understand what were they saying. You didn't look too bothered about it either, your eyes boring into the blonde boy.

"Heh, t-thanks for that...", Naruto nervously murmured with a crooked smile, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He was not sure if you were going to attack him next, but judging by your more relaxed stance now, he hoped not. Your face remained stoic, your eyes tracing his face and dirty outfit, the corners of your mouth twitching in disgust.

"You need a shower", was all you said, before turning around and starting walking towards your house. It took a few seconds for the blonde boy to assimilate your words, his head shaking once he realised that you intended this to be the end of your conversation.

"Hey! Wait!", he yelled, his feet hurrying after you, "What's your name?"

You did not stop, but your steps did slow down. Casting him a side glance, you raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"Why do you need my name?"

"Well, you know...", the boy trailed off, but your facial expression remained unchanged. Clearing his throat, he shoved both his hands in his pockets, while still walking next to you. He stayed silent for a minute, wondering how to word his thoughts. Did he actually need a reason to ask for your name? Was there even a right answer to that?

"So we can be friends! I assume you are new here, but that's okay because you can't have a better guide around Konoha than me and-"

"I don't need new friends", you immediately shot him down, your focus moving from him to the road ahead. The feeling of his curious stare burned at the side of your face, yet you refused to elaborate further.

"Well, I...", his movements stopped and he remained frozen in his place. The way you turned his offer down so quickly hurt more than he expected from someone he didn't even know. There was something cold and unfriendly about you and he couldn't decide if it was directed toward him, or if it was just who you were.

Have you heard about him and the demon inside of him already? You didn't look scared of him, but it was also clear you wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe you thought he was weak because of the way he let those kids talk to him?

"It's Y/N", your voice took him out of his thoughts and he lifted his gaze up to you. After seeing the confusion in it, you clarified, "My name is Y/N."

A small smile formed on his face and he closed the distance between you once again, reaching his hand toward you.

"I am Naruto", he shivered at the feeling of your smaller hand placing itself into his, "Naruto Uzumaki."

You nodded your head, despite already knowing well enough who he was. It has been only a week since you moved from the Village Hidden in the Rain to Konoha, but your parents had already made you aware of the rumours going around the village of the so-called "fox demon boy". Looking at the whiskers on his face, it didn't take long for you to realise it was him.

"The gates in front of the academy. Eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Don't be late", you instructed calmly, pulling your hand away from his grasp.

"Huh?"

You rolled your eyes at his dumbfounded look.

"I could use a guide around the village", you shrugged your shoulders, before turning around once again, "But if you are even one minute late, I would leave."

Needless to say the next day was the first time Naruto actually showed up for something on time.

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Two years have passed since the first time you met Naruto. Surprisingly for him and many of the other villagers, an unlikely friendship formed between you despite your contrasting personalities.

Naruto was like the sun - bright, positive, bringing light into everyone's life. Despite what others have put him through, he remained dreaming big, eager to prove himself as the strongest ninja in Konoha. While he still encountered unfriendly stares and was avoided by the majority of the kids, he radiated optimism and never shut his mouth about how one day everyone was going to admire him.

You, on the other hand, were... well, you.

Raised as the oldest daughter of the Doku clan, one of the few wealthy clans in Amegakure, your life drastically differed from the one of your blonde friend. Moving to Konoha after the political tension in your home village threatened the influence held by your father, your parents made sure to continue your comfortable life by purchasing a large compound in the outskirts of the Leaf Village.

Too busy to climb the social ladder, your parents have left you in charge of looking after your two younger sisters, thus never really giving you the chance to enjoy a carefree childhood. Sure, you were aided by the many maids who helped around the house, but having to constantly keep an eye on your siblings made you mature way quicker than expected. It was no surprise that even since your early childhood you developed a moody personality, your state of mind shifting only between annoyance and boredom.

Nothing really impressed you, nor could make you sad. Interactions with people were draining the little energy and patience you had left and you avoided them as much as possible, preferring to sit in your compound's garden by yourself, immersed in one of your many books about nature, plants and poison making.

Despite that, you were not heartless. So when you saw Naruto for the first time, being cornered by these five boys, you knew you had to intervene, despite having no intention to get to know him. But the moment you saw his expression after you made it clear that you were not interested in forming friendships, something inside you stirred with guilt and despite your better judgment, you decided to give it a shot.

You often wondered if that was a mistake, especially in moments like this, when Naruto was loudly complaining to you about the team he has been assigned in, pieces of the food he was chewing falling out of his mouth while talking.

"Can you believe it? Me and that teme in the same team together! This has to be a joke!", he moaned, stuffing his mouth with more ramen, half of which flew towards you, while he kept trying to talk and eat and the same time.

You looked in disgust at the small piece of noodle that rested on your sleeve, carefully picking it up and throwing it away.

"Can you stop talking with your mouth full?", you asked in annoyance, rolling your eyes. Naruto hummed under his breath but showed no signs of following your request. At this point he was so used to your grumpy comments, that often they went in into one ear and came back out of the other.

"And Sakura doesn't even pay attention to me, too busy to fawn over that duck-butt looking jerk!", he lifted the bowl in his hands to his mouth and obnoxiously slurped the remaining food at the bottom. You quietly chewed your chicken while you listened to his complaints.

The relationship between him and the Uchiha has been confusing, to say the least. Before being assigned to a team together, they rarely interacted, showing no real interest in each other. Since Team 7 was formed, however, they were constantly clashing with each other and turning even the slightest things into a competition.

"What do you think?", he asked you, face leaning towards yours, while his hands moved to grab the second bowl of ramen.

"About what?", you asked with a sigh, your chopstick twirling your food in a bored manner. Naruto rolled his eyes, stuffing a large piece of pork into his mouth.

"About Sasuke, duh!", he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I don't really understand how girls are always after him!"

You shrugged your shoulders in response.

"I don't think about him", was all you said, returning your focus to your food. Naruto glanced at you, his mouth opening to ask you something else, but his cheeks suddenly flushed red, and he closed it again. You noticed his weird reaction, but did not comment on it, leaving him to be the one to break the silence once again.

"What about your team? Are they nice?", he cleared his throat, surprising you with the sudden change of topic. While Naruto was extremely kind, he usually preferred to talk about himself and what was going on in his life, rather than show interest in someone else.

"They are alright", you put the last bit of chicken into your mouth, before pushing your plate away. Having only two other students in the whole class who were not natives of Konoha, it was no surprise they decided to pair you together, thinking that this was something you could bond over.

Luckily for you, both of your teammates were just as uninterested in forming friendships as you. Hisa, the oldest one in your group and originally born in Suna, was an excellent swordsman and pretty good in taijutsu, making him the front fighter of your team and in some way the self-proclaimed leader of it. He rarely talked, unless he was sharing battle strategies, preferring to rely on actions rather than words.

Mako, the other boy in your team, was the most timid and shy one in the team, yet somehow the most sociable. Born in the Village Hidden in the Mist as part of the Yuki Clan, he moved here when he was just an infant. He was the only one in your team that possessed a Kekkei Genkai, and while not master at it in any way, he was an extremely valuable addition to your team and probably the best sparring partner out of you three.

You, on the other hand, were the long-shot weaponry fighter of the team. Specializing in poison making, just like the rest of your clan, your skills lay in ambushing and immobilizing enemies from far away with the help of your poison needles.

While you still could handle yourself pretty well in hand-to-hand combat, even against opponents like Hisa, you rarely had to do that, your expert aim almost never missing your targets. You were also the only one in the team who knew basic medical ninjutsu, a skill which your sensei often encouraged you to pursue further, but you refused.

"Kami, sometimes it's exhausting to be your friend, you know?", Naruto groaned, unsatisfied with the short answers you kept giving him. He expected you to give him an annoyed look or even slap him on the arm, but was caught by surprise once your melodic laugh reached his ears.

This was the first time he has EVER heard you laugh.

"Could say the same about you", you shook your head, stealing a piece of tomato from his bowl.

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Everything changed once Sasuke left the village, including the friendship you had with Naruto. His unjustified (to you) determination to bring him back completely baffled you and forced you to completely lose your temper once he told you he was leaving the village in order to get stronger.

"You are delusional", you hissed, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "You are leaving your whole life behind for what? To bring a traitor, who wants nothing do to with you, back home?"

Naruto's eyes hardened and his hands shoved the last bit of clothes into his backpack, not caring if they were about to be wrinkly. He had invited you to his place to share his decision with you and while he knew you were not going to agree, he did not expect you to react that harshly.

It was not a secret that you did not harbour warm feelings toward any of Naruto's teammates. The Uchiha was a skilled and powerful ninja, but too blinded by his own emotions and ego, to be able to appreciate the reality of his life. He thought he was better than everyone else and seemingly this also included you since he never missed a chance to jab at you or Naruto when he saw you together. You, on the other hand, also did not hold back, giving him the cold shoulder and making him feel just as small and pathetic as he was making everyone else around him feel.

Naturally, Sakura did not like you since you were treating Sasuke that way, but that hardly bothered you since in your eyes she was both weak and annoying. And while there were dozens of girls, just as obsessed and in love like her, there was something about her that made the ugly feelings of rage and jealousy burn inside your chest. Maybe it was the fact that Naruto always talked about how pretty and confident she was, or maybe it was the fact that you were more than convinced she did not deserve even a minute of attention from your best friend... you did not know what it was exactly, but there was a reason for you not liking her.

"It's not just that...", he sighed, taking a sit next to you on the bed, "I just... I need to get stronger. Even Kakashi-sensei agrees going with Jiraya would help me improve my chakra control and makes me a better ninja. One, that deserves to be a Hokage."

"What does Kakashi-sensei even know?", you countered, "His whole life he has always been here."

Naruto looked at you with his eyes full of regret and disappointment. His arm tried to reach out to you, but you quickly pulled away, standing from the bed.

"You are never going to be strong, Naruto."

"What?", he furrowed his brows, your words taking him completely off guard. The way you said that through gritted teeth and your narrowed eyes made you look like you were facing your biggest enemy.

And Naruto did not like that.

"You are never going to be strong!", you repeated, this time your voice raising, "Because you keep wasting your energy and efforts on stuff that don't matter. You keep chasing people like Sasuke and Sakura, who don't give a damn about you! You keep overlooking the people that actually care about you! People like me!"

You ended your rant with panting body and teeth biting into your bottom lip, stopping you from saying anything else that you knew you were going to regret later. You hoped that like many other things you said, Naruto wouldn't actually register your words, but unluckily for you, this time he was carefully listening.

"You care about me?", he repeated, his eyes boring into yours. Unable to face the consequences of your words, you stared at him for a whole minute, before slowly nodding your head.

"I...", he loudly gulped, a light rosy colour covering his cheeks and ears, "Like... Like a friend? Or.. like something else?"

The silence that followed his question made you both fidget uncomfortably in your places. You kept biting your lip, the metallic taste of your blood soon filling your mouth.

What was going on? Where has the control you usually had over your thoughts and words gone? You didn't know how to answer his question, without utterly and completely destroying your friendship.

"I...", for the first time since he had known you, Naruto saw you speechless. You turned your head, the pressure of his gaze too intense for you to handle. Taking a breath, you managed to gather your thoughts together and carefully proceed:

"Like someone who I want to grow and hopefully spend my life with in the future...", you explained, your voice carrying an unusual softness and vulnerability, "I... don't make me actually say it, Naruto."

You didn't know what you expected. Maybe for him to stand up and embrace you in a hug, telling you that he shares your feelings. Or for him to storm off, his normal reaction when he feels stressed and cornered.

It was a surprise, however, when you heard his voice right behind you.

When did he even got up from his seat?

"Y/N...", your name rolled out as a broken whisper out of his lips and you already knew that nothing good was about to follow.

"Don't!", you tried to stop him before he could put the final nail into your already cracking heart.

“You have no idea-“

“Don’t do that!”

“..what your friendship means to me”, he finished his sentence, laying one of his palms flat on your shoulder, "But I... I just don't see you that way."

You flinched away from his touch, eyes still refusing to meet his. Your heard him take a breath and it sounded like he wants to say something else, but thought better of it. Both of you stayed silent - him, because he was too scared to hurt you even more, you, because you desperately tried to control the building tears that threatened to spill out on your cheeks.

"There is nothing I can say to change your mind about staying, is there?", you finally said, the question sounding more like a statement. Naruto did not reply, instead taking a step back and returning to packing his bag.

Without another word, you bolted towards the door, promising yourself that this was to be the last time you allowed your heart to be vulnerable.

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Naruto found himself surprised once he came back to the village.

Sakura was now an extremely strong kunoichi, the best student of Lady Tsunade. His friend, Gaara, has become the Kazekage and many of his classmates have already been promoted to the rank of Jonin.

It seemed everybody was growing and starting to cave their own path. And while he managed to catch up with pretty much everyone and everything during his few weeks back, he was yet to see you.

The blond Uzumaki would lie if he said he hadn't thought about you during his time away. He had... a lot. Your last conversation kept replaying in his mind, your bored face appearing in his mind every time he closed his eyes, sometimes even blessing him with one of these rare smiles he knew were reserved just for him.

Your words that day shocked him. Never had he imagined he would be the subject of someone's affection, let alone yours. You were always so reserved and composed around him, that it took him years to crack your personality, and even then, he was not sure you were fully letting him in.

Naruto was a confident being, which included his feelings. He was always sure of what he felt and why he felt it. Yet, he couldn't explain why you haunted his thoughts way more than his other friends, including Sakura. The crush that he thought he had on his teammate was now shadowed by the big question mark of who were you to him.

On one hand, you were his closest friend. You were also grumpy and pouting the majority of the time, but for some reason, he found that cute and often took it as a challenge to make you smile. You were very blunt, which sometimes hurt his ego, but he appreciated your honesty. Also, unlike Sakura, you never physically hurt him, even though he had to admit just your glare was often enough to stop him from doing whatever he was about to do.

On the other hand... well, he couldn't really think about something bad about you or your personality. Other than the fact that you reminded him too much of Shikamaru, by being constantly bored and finding yourself lacking the enthusiasm to do stuff.

"You can take Y/N out of the Hidden Rain Village, but you can't take the Hidden Rain Village out of Y/N" - Naruto often joked about you, saying that he finds your moody personality reminding him of these comforting rains, that makes you want to stay in bed all day and do nothing. You were never sure if that was a compliment or not, but with your friend having a more unique way of thinking, you never really asked him to elaborate.

After a few more weeks of not seeing you, Naruto decided it was finally time to knock on your door. Were you avoiding him? He has been out every day asking his friends about you, but they couldn't provide any information, saying that they rarely see you anyway because of how many missions your team was taking.

The door to the Doku compound opened and suddenly Naruto was tackled by two giggling girls. He landed on his bum and with a wide smile, he hugged them back, supporting their weight while both of them just hung on his neck.

"Naruto!", they both screamed in unison, "You are back!"

Chaya and Kaya were your two younger sisters, who were also Naruto's biggest fangirls. From the first time they met him when they could barely walk, they were constantly clinging to him, admiring him and even getting jealous if he had to leave them to hang out with you. The blonde ninja also enjoyed spending time with them, feeling them as close as if they were his own siblings.

"Hey, easy!", he laughed, carefully untangling their hands from his neck and crouching in front of them. He ruffled both of his heads, chucking once they whined he was ruining their hairstyles.

"Are you going to stay for dinner?" "I have this new ninja doll - do you want to see it?" "Are you going to tell us some stories of your travels?"

The two children bombarded him with questions and he kept looking between Chaya and Kaya, unsure who was asking what. Almost like she knew he needed to be saved, your mother showed up at the door, pushing the two girls back and giving Naruto an apologetic smile.

"Naruto, glad to see you! It's been a while."

"Lady Doku", the boy greeted, bowing his head, "It is good to see you too!"

Your mother stepped aside, a silent invitation for Naruto to enter and he took it without a second thought. Looking around, he was glad to see that your home was the same as he remembered it. Despite being somewhat scared of your parents in the beginning due to their reservations based on the rumours going around Konoha, your whole family has welcomed him and made sure he had a full stomach on more than one occasion. They also have paid for his ninja uniform in the past, as well as provide him with a warm bed in the spare guesthouse during the coldest months, when his apartment was freezing.

"Are you going to stay for dinner?", Lady Doku asked, leading Naruto to the dining room, "Y/N and Hisa would be here soon. They are just giving their mission report to the Hokage."

Ah, so that's why he hadn't seen you around! You were on a mission!

"Can't wait to see her!", Naruto smiled brightly, taking a seat at the dinner table, "I have been wondering where she is! I was going around the whole village trying to find her, heh!"

He took the glass of water in front of him and gulped almost half of it at once. He was nervous and he was sure your mother could tell by the way he was rambling and his voice went higher than normal. Still, she said nothing of it, instead turning towards the door, once your father entered the room with a huff.

"Are they here yet?", he grumbled under his breath, looking at his wife with an annoyed expression, "They have been giving this report for an hour. Are they writing it now or something?"

Your mother cleared her throat and gave him a scolding look, her eyes briefly moving to Naruto to show him that they were not alone. The man stared at her with confusion for a few seconds, not understanding what she is trying to say.

"What, woman?", a movement at the end of the table caught his attention and he finally turned around, only to see your childhood friend sitting awkwardly, giving him a small wave. Your father suddenly smiled, his mood improving drastically, and he went round the table, patting the blond boy on the back.

"Ah, the Uzumaki boy!", he laughed, squeezing his shoulder, "We were wondering when you are going to show up. Dinners without you have been dull, you know?"

Naruto smiled at his words and bowed his head to him as a sign of respect. Your father started asking him questions about his time away with Jiraya and what he had learned during this time, and the boy enthusiastically started to explain all the new jutsu techniques he mastered and all the adventures he had with his sensei.

Soon Chaya and Kaya ran into the room, almost tripping in their hurry of who was about to sit next to Naruto. Chaya, however, being the taller one, managed to beat her sister, which resulted in loud bickering and dramatic cries from Kaya. Naruto looked at them with a smile but was quickly brought back to the conversation with your dad, once he asked him about his future plans as a ninja.

"Girls, stop!", your mother sighed and rubbed her temples, "Kaya, just sit next to Hisa today."

"I don't want to sit next to Y/N's boyfriend, I want to sit next to Narutooooo!", she moaned, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a huff.

Hearing the word "boyfriend", Naruto's head suddenly whipped in her direction, his throat tightening and making him choke on his own spit. He started coughing and his fist made its way to his chest, hitting it a few times in an attempt to help him swallow. Everyone's eyes went on him and your father's heavy hand went to his back, slapping him so hard he was thrown forward, almost banging his head on the table.

"Hit him one more time and he may fly through the wall", your monotone voice sounded next to the entry and Naruto immediately lifted his eyes, his mouth opening slightly once he saw you leaning on the door frame.

You were taller and leaner than the last time he saw you, your long hair now sitting in a high bun on top of your head. A golden bracelet in the form of a scorpion, the symbol of your clan, shined on your wrist, partly covered by your long sleeves.

What didn't change, however, was the unimpressed look that you currently gave him. The blonde tried to offer you a small smile, but you had no reaction, other than sighing and taking the seat opposite him. Closely behind you was Hisa, your teammate, and what Naruto learned to be your "boyfriend".

"Naruto is here!", yelled Kaya, taking her seat on the table, not even acknowledging Hisa.

"Really? Wouldn't have noticed", you said flatly, your eyes boring into his. Naruto shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, suddenly feeling like a nuisance by coming to your house. Sensing the tension, your father decided to shift the focus on you.

"So, how was your mission? I thought it was supposed to be only a week and you were gone for a few", he lifted his eyebrow, motioning the maid in the corner of the room to bring the meals to the table.

"The mission did indeed finish in a week", Hisa finally spoke, his face stoic, "But I wanted Y/N to meet my family back in Suna. They are excited about a potential future union between our clan and the Doku."

"I bet there are", your father mumbled under his nose, rolling his eyes while taking a bite of his salad.

Naruto, who has been sitting silent the whole time and drinking his second glass of water in an attempt to calm his nerves, now spat the liquid forward, showering both you and your partner in water.

"A union?", he asked, his voice loud and squawky, "What? Between you two?"

"Why is that hard to believe?", you asked, your eyes narrowing at him.

The truth is you were anything, but happy Naruto was here tonight. You've heard from Mako that he was searching for you and that he grew up a lot, no longer the silly boy anymore, but a man. And you had to agree - laying your eyes on him tonight, a sudden rush of your old feelings hit you like a wave. The love you thought you buried deep inside of you, suddenly resurfaced and it made you angry.

Angry, because it was not fair to you, or to Hisa, or even to your family, who seemed so excited and glad that the blonde ninja was back into your lives. You couldn't help but feel betrayed by them, especially since both your mother and father knew how broken you were once he left the village.

"Well, I don't know...", Naruto's combative personality woke up in the face of your challenging words, completely forgetting he was surrounded by other people, "Maybe it is hard to believe because both of you are completely incompatible!"

"Naruto, you need to calm down!", Hisa's voice was stern, carrying a note of threatening in it. The blonde boy, however, completely ignored that, instead furrowing his brows.

"I am calm!", he grumbled, fixing him with a glare.

The whole idea of you and Hisa was just... wrong. How did you two even fall for each other? Both of you were introverted, silent, and cold individuals, who, by what he could observe tonight, had zero chemistry between each other. Even the way you sat with almost a chair distance between you was weird in his eyes, especially since he knew you had no problem with physical contact, his own arm resting on your shoulder countless times before, even in front of your mom and dad.

"Don't be mad, because I was there to pick up the pieces you left behind!"

Silence.

Everyone looked at Hisa with surprise, even you. Never, for all the years you had known him, have you heard him be so aggressive and arrogant with his words. Naruto, also seemed shocked, but he quickly regained composure, a fire of rage burning behind his eyes.

"Shut up! You don't know anything!", he shouted, pointing his finger at your lover, "Hell would freeze before I believe she is with you because she likes you! Did you force her?"

His gaze shifted towards you, both of his brows lifting high.

"Did he threaten you? Blackmail you?"

"Don't be silly!", you scolded him under your breath, your cheeks now crimson red from embarrassment by the fact all of this was taking place in front your family members, who seemed invested in the little row by now, "Can we just eat our food in peace?"

"No!", it was Hisa who spoke first and you tried to elbow him, unhappy with his sudden confidence and eagerness to fight, but he paid you no mind, "Me and Y/N like each other. And Naruto needs to take his nose out of our relationship, before I make him to!"

You buried your head in your hands, casting a pleading look toward your dad, who actually seemed to be finding the whole thing amusing, judging by the small smirk on his face.

"Like each other?", Naruto scoffed, now glaring daggers at the other male, "A piece of cardboard has more personality than you, how could anyone like you?"

"Ha!", Chaya laughed with her mouth full, "That's true! Hisa IS boring!"

Kaya hummed in agreement, while both your parents tried to stifle a laugh. Your boyfriend, however, seemed anything but impressed by the comment and he looked at you, expecting you to defend him. You let out a sigh of annoyance, shrugging your shoulders.

How can you defend him from a fact that was true?

"Me and you. Outside. Now!", Hisa commanded, pushing his chair back and standing up. Naruto seemed to be about to do the same, when your father's voice boomed around the room.

"Sit down!", he said and Hisa reluctantly followed, his eyes still boring holes into Naruto's head, "Enough of your silly boy fight! Dinner time is family time, it is not an opportunity for you to show off in front of Y/N! Show some respect to this household!"

"Daaad!", you whined, wanting nothing more than the ground to open and swallow you. Both boys, seemingly hit by realisation of their behaviour after hearing your father's words, mumbled an apology before focusing on eating their food.

The whole dinner continued in silence, cut only by your mother who was desperately trying to lighten the mood by talking about some new market shops that opened in the village, but everyone else seemed to lack enthusiasm, choosing to remain quiet instead. Even your two siblings, who normally did not have their mouths shut, were now communicating only with glances with each other.

What was once a warm and welcoming home for Naruto, now felt weird for him to be in. So as soon as he finished his meal, he said his thanks and goodbyes, eager to get away from you and your boyfriend. Dozens of questions filled his brain and soon a headache started to form, making him rub his forehead in frustration.

What the hell has happened during these three years while he was away? He knew he hurt you that day when he said he did not return his feelings, but was it really that bad, that you felt nothing but resentment towards him now?

He was almost by the gate of your garden, when he heard your voice again.

"Why did you come?"

He turned around, finding with relief that you were by yourself. Your body language, however, was stiff and unwelcoming. You were ready for a confrontation.

"I wanted to see you", he admitted, not shying his gaze away from yours, "I... missed you."

A dry chuckle left past your lips and you shook your head. Making a few steps towards him, your sharp stare was focused on his blue eyes, searching for any signs of lies. You stood there quietly observing him, trying to gather your thoughts and clarify your own feelings.

Did you miss him? Of course, you did, every single day. Were you about to tell him? Absolutely no way.

"I am in love with you", he suddenly blurted out, catching you off guard. You took a sharp breath, unsure if he really said it or if you imagined it. Using your moment of shock as an opportunity to close the distance between you, he cautiously took one of your hands in his.

"I know I hurt you and I was dumb for not seeing what I had all along... But during these few years away, only one person haunted my thoughts. Only one person motivated me to do better, to grow into the man that they deserve, and to finally get the courage to admit in front of them and myself that I am utterly, hopelessly and crazy in love with them."

His hand rested under your chin, lifting your head towards him once you tried to look down, hiding your now blushing face from him.

"That person is you."

You let out the air that you did not even realize you were holding, his close proximity and the feeling of his touch on your hand making you feel almost like you were floating. You had the gather all of the courage you had left, in order to pull away rather than smash your lips into his.

"I can't."

Naruto looked at you with confusion, taking another step towards you, making you step back in return. He stood still for a few seconds, before pushing his hands in his pockets and looking down at his feet.

"You... You don't feel the same way?"

You stared at him for a minute, wondering if it would be easier to just lie and say "yes". Yet your heart begged you to tell him the truth, eager to be free of the weight of the feelings you have been carrying for years.

"The feelings I have for you would never go away. I have been loving you since we were children and I would love you till we are both old sacks of bones", you chuckled at your own words and suddenly the atmosphere between you felt lighter, almost like the old days. Naruto looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"But I am with Hisa...", his smile quickly turned into a frown, "And things have changed. I changed... and I know you did too. No matter how bad I want to believe you, I think you need to really listen to your heart."

"But I have, I do lov-"

"Were you about to say that to me if I was not taken by somebody else?", your words were harsh and cold, but also true. Naruto closed his mouth, looking down. It is true his confession came out as a result of his jealousy tonight, but he was also confident in the fact that he did had feelings for you.

Or he thinks he does.

"I want you to be sure of what you feel", you said, now with a gentler tone, "Not telling me what your temporary emotions are leading you to believe you feel."

With slow steps you moved toward him, grabbing his face in your hands and pressing your lips against his cheek. He closed his eyes at the feeling, instinctively leaning towards the warmth radiating from your touch. He almost groaned when you let go, wishing it did last further.

He watched you walk back to your house, his own heart a mess. He knew he was feeling something for you, but perhaps it was not the right time now.

He still had to deal with the lingering crush he had on his teammate, which he couldn't even tell if it was there or not. He also still wanted to put all of his focus on bringing Sasuke back, something he knew you were not on the same page as him. And perhaps, he had to also accept the fact that he did miss the chance he had with you, and it was unfair for him to meddle in your new relationship.

There was no doubt that fate was about to bring you together someday, he had a feeling about it.

But now, it was just not the right time.

cc artwork: Raja Nanadepu