#dragging you all to the celestial hell with me

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

(part 2)

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Could you please do a villianxhero prompt?

They were on the same side. Sort of. Temporarily. Admittedly, it had been a temporary that had stretched on far longer than either of them had expected.

It had been nearly a year.

"I wouldn't," the hero said, as one of the villain's circle stood up to go find his absent leader in the study upstairs.

The villain's left-hand simply sneered at the hero before continuing on their way.

The hero sighed. They could feel a headache forming, but they moved to rise either way, with the celestial tug of everything they were.

"I wouldn't."

The hero glanced over at the villain's right-hand.

The right-hand smiled at them. "It serves him right. And it wouldn't do him bad to remember how much of a buffer you are when you're around."

"He'll get hurt."

"Then he should have listened to you, shouldn't he?"

Well, the hero didn't exactly have a good argument for that. While they'd learned to get on well with the villain's right hand, they still clashed frequently with the obnoxious and entirely too sycophantic left.

"Seriously," the right-hand said, softer. "It's not like you're planning to stop absorbing the worst of them any time soon, is it? Pick your battles."

"They're not that bad with me."

"You know how to handle them - better than anyone."

"Don't let them hear you say that."

The right-hand snorted.

They both looked up, towards the ceiling, towards the villain seething with setbacks out of view.

Something crashed.

"I'm not going to say 'I told you so,'" the hero said. "That feels mean."

"Don't worry." The right-hand sounded positively cheery. "I will."

The left-hand slunk back downstairs before they could respond, pale and shaken. It was, admittedly, a little satisfying. The villain was definitely a bad influence.

But, also, really. The villain telegraphed their moods fairly obviously and they'd got better at retreating when they felt inclined to be vicious. It wasn't a spoken boundary but it was a boundary to anyone paying attention.

It was possible that the hero paid too much attention. They just couldn't quite seem to stop.

"They told me to send you up," the left-hand muttered, with great resentment.

"Bold of them to assume you can send me anywhere."

"Please," the left-hand spat.

The hero grinned at them, before standing.

The right-hand's eyes gleamed, like they knew something that no one else had cottoned onto yet.

The hero shot them a two fingered salute, before they made their way upstairs. They rapped their knuckles against the door before entering.

"I've been summoned," the hero said, leaning against the door. "And you look like hell."

The villain scowled, dragged their hands through their hair.

The hero winked back at them.

The villain's glare intensified, but the tension slipped from their shoulders. "My head is killing me," the villain said. "I'm going to slaughter the next person who interrupts me."

The hero hummed, moving over to the sofa in the corner of the room. They flopped down, all casual like. The villain didn't even make a show of being casual or pretending to work for a minute more before they beelined over, all but shoving their face into the hero's neck.

The hero raised their eyebrows, surprised, then softened. The cupped the back of the villain's head, stroking through the dark locks. The villain melted against them. The hero felt something inside them ease too; a jungle cat finally settled and purring.

"It's disgusting that you're one of the few tolerable people left in the world," the villain said.

"Woe betide the minions. They try so hard."

"Don't take their side. You're mine."

The hero huffed, but didn't correct it, far too busy stifling a smile. Mine. It shouldn't have got to them like it did; there was a time when the word would have made them snarl with fury. They tucked their chin atop the villain's head. The connection between the two of them buzzed pleasantly.

They didn't ask if the villain wanted to talk about it. Inevitably, though, they did.

When the two of them wandered downstairs three hours later, the villain was themselves again.

"So," the right-hand asked, when the two of them were alone. "When's the wedding?"

[kedsandtubesocks]

all of this (& heaven too) - hades!Gojo

He is not what you pictured. You had a painted image in your head of a terrifying immortal, ancient and dreary, who ruled over the dead. Instead you discover the king of the underworld is young, all brilliant wide smiles, and more importantly - dangerously handsome.

Or

You are a goddess of spring torn between two fates, that is until you meet a strange man leaning against a tree…

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

tags & warnings: 18+ only mdni, loose interpretation and altering of the hades & persephone myth, complicated/strained parental relationship (could be read as controlling/manipulative), mentions of kidnapping, brief physical assault, clingy + lovesick Gojo, slight wound licking and finger sucking, allusion to fem!oral receiving, Gojo being Gojo and offering gruesome violence as a form of love… if there is anything I missed pls let me know!!

wc: 14k

a/n: title is from the florence + the machine song of the same name. I already hate myself for wanting to write a companion piece to this from gojo’s pov… okay that’s all please enjoy, thank you for reading! Also biggest thank you to @stellamancer & @willowser who have been my best comrades in Gojo hell

When you were just a young little sapling your mother once asked you what your favorite thing about this world was.

“The great big sky!” You had told her brightly.

“The sky?” Your mother asked, amused. “Not any of the flowers? The rivers? Or the fields, my little sprout?” 

“Nope!” You were adamant.

“Then why?” Your mother grinned and so you told her.

“Because it’s so big! Like there’s so much room to grow!” 

Then you added. ���And it’s so blue, like the sea!” 

Your mother had laughed warm, vibrantly loud like the morning rays waking you up.

The sky. You always loved the sky. Even as an immortal crafted from ichor and stardust, the sky made you feel mortal in the best ways, especially now.

Now, as a fully matured celestial being, you are as old as one of the grand redwood trees you loved running alongside when you were a little.

You glance up at the sky while the wind blusters through your fields. Even with looming clouds clustering above signaling the arrival of a storm, you find reassurance there. The storm now actually feels comforting as a similar storm of unrest swirls inside of you. You stomp down from the mountain not even waiting for your mother.

That entire meeting with her, you, and the lord of the skies was pointless. Gakuganji, with his thunderous melodies and even with all his wisdom, made you curse the skies. 

“We shall need to discuss terms of the arranged courting rituals soon.” You had almost choked when you heard the old god’s words. He could not be serious.

Even when you yelled confused, even when your mother sent you a sharp glare to keep quiet, Gakuganji never once acknowledged you. It was like you were not even present, just a simple wallflower ignored against the grander of other immortals. Because to them, you would always be a little sapling, your mothers offspring, nothing more.

The thunder booms ahead and you wish the rain would pour down on you. Maybe the rain would help simmer you down.

“Well now, don’t you look just as feral as a chimera?” A voice emerges,a coy playful tone you’ve never heard before. 

When you snap your gaze to the side, you discover a man. Clothed in deep obsidian robes, he seems just as tall as the sycamore tree he leans against.

His hair is a startling white and -

His eyes are blindfolded.

Being so close to the sacred grounds tells you this man must be another immortal. But you had never met him before.

Then again, you had happily enjoyed staying unaware among your blooms. You wistfully ignored the problems and squabbles the others had. Even when you came of age centuries ago you did not have any desire to accompany your mother to Olympus. It was only recently that she began dragging you with her. Now you wonder if that decision has caused you to be the fool.

You glare at the mystery man. “I’m just fine, thank you.”

“Mhm, doesn’t look like it.” His taunts lightly and it makes you want to shriek.

“Wanna tell me who’s responsible?” Now his lips form into a soft grin. “I could deal with them for you.”

Even as strange as this man is, there’s some sense of comfort in his casual comment. The tension in your body, even in your face, slowly flutters away.

You sigh. “No it’s fine.”

Looking at his covered eyes, you already wonder what color they are.

Your name is called out sharp before you can ask your mystery man what his name is. Your mother’s voice snaps your spine straight. Quickly whipping around you see her scurrying to you with wide worried eyes. 

“Head home, little sprout.” She urges you.

“Wait, why?” 

“Head. Home.” Her words echo with the same force as the storm brewing around you.

Your mother’s magic swiftly swirls all around. She is getting ready to sweep you into the wind that helps her run along her wheat fields. You can’t help it. Your eyes fall to the mystery man. His handsome features smirk amused. You mother however stares at him as if he is an abomination from the depths of the underworld.

“Lord Gojo, good day to you.” And when she says his name, you discover this mystery man is not just from the depths of the underworld, but its ruler.

Your heart plummets fast into your stomach. The strangest concoction of emotions swirls in you. Terror and curiosity are not a desirable pair to navigate through. 

Then in a wild gust, you are teleported home. You wonder if your mind might have flown out in the whirlwind because you still cannot believe it.

You just met the Lord of the underworld.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

His existence was a simple phrase of his name you were told never to utter. 

Lord Gojo. 

The strongest of the immortals. The rumors paint him as a mindless monster who slaughtered titans during the Great War. He was a ghastly terror. The only immortal fit to rule over the dreary underworld. You used to paint him in your mind as someone aged like Gakuganji. The lord was carved from myth, ancient and terrifying. So you imagined him more creature than man.

Yet instead he exists a smiling handsome man who appears to you now. 

“M-my Lord!” You stammer out frantically.

You had been sitting by the riverside braiding another floral crown to keep your mind at ease. Then, out of the blue, like a strike of lightning, the underworld’s king appears beside you. 

“Oh no,” Gojo simply waves. “Please no titles, they disgust me.”

You almost choke on your own confused inhale.

“What are you doing here?” You squawk confused, trying to ignore how rapid your heart races in your chest.

This god was painted to be a terrifying tale. You mother once even told you he would only bring chaos and misfortune to anyone who crosses his path. 

Now he lounges beside you under the shade of the trees. 

“I came to see if you were alright. You looked so upset before.”

His words knock you breathless. Your mind could not believe this was truly the dreaded god of the underworld. Suddenly said king gasps obnoxiously loud and you almost jump out of your skin. 

“What are you making?!” He leans down to point at the flowers in your lap.

“Flower crowns, they’re for the village children nearby.”

You loved to leave them off at the edge of the fields where the children played. Whenever you catch them wearing the bright floral wreaths your heart soars .

“Aw, that’s sweet.” Gojo admires, like a loud wind chime. “Can you make one for me then!?”

You wonder if the ground has given out from under you. The man whispered to be pure power, now wears a childish frown with his lip sticking out in a full on pout.

“Please?” He pleads. 

Left with no choice, your attention goes back to the flowers bunched lonely in your lap and you furiously return to braiding.

“That one better be for me!” The king of the underworld comments in a song-like tone. A quick temptation rises in you to throw the flowers in the nearby river.

“What are you even doing here?” For some reason, you blurt that out.

The words leave before you can stop yourself and your eyes widen in horror. This is it. Your mind jumps to every awful thing he could probably do to you. And he does the absolute worst.

He laughs.

It colors his cheeks lovely and you hate how it somehow intensifies his handsome features even more.

“I told you! I wanted to check up on you.” Gojo smiles toothy but swiftly the image of a grinning crocodile waiting in the water comes to mind. 

“I don’t believe you.” Again, you speak out too fast. Thankfully his lips thin into an amused line.

“You’re a lot more perceptive than you look, I like that.”

His words shake your brain, a fierce little rattle that has you staring at him stunned. Your heart races to find a regular beat.

“Well,” Gojo sighs. “I did have an annoying meeting with the others. But… while I was up here I thought I’d drop by and see how you were doing, petals.”

The fond playful name he bestows upon you is done so casually. Yet, it snags your breath.

Petals.

The nickname has your mind reeling until you fully process what he said. The meeting he went to was the same one your mother must have gone to earlier and is still at. 

“What was it about?” You ask a bit calmer as you braid simple dandelions to pop against the forget me nots. 

Silence softly settles and mixes in with the rush of the river.

“You mean…no one’s told you?” 

Gojo’s voice is a soft but stunned whisper that steals your attention back to him. You now are frustrated you can’t see his eyes, can’t see the emotion in them.

“Told me what?” You frown.

The lord of the underworld stays quiet. He tilts his head towards your lap.

“The color of those flowers are lovely.” He says simply and even with a touch of awe.

Indignation rises in you, a heated over spilling boil and you snap. “What did you all discuss!?”

Then it hits you. You just flat out demanded so fiercely to the ruler of the underworld.

“I apologize-”

“No,” Blindfold or not his attention is fully directed towards you now. “Don’t apologize. You deserve to feel frustrated. Believe me I would be too.”

You exhale shakily. 

“There's been more talk about your place among the others.” Gojo tells you simply. “Arranged marriage is being thrown around.”

Your heart sinks fast.

“I should have known.” You sigh as you rapidly return back to looking at your flowers. Slowly vines start to grow against your ankles. Your powers react to your emotions, and now the sensation of feeling tired manifests itself. 

“Everyone thinks I’m just my mother's offspring,” you snap mainly to yourself. “Or that I’m only here to be someone’s marriage partner, but I’m not.”

The vines start to prickle against your skin. When you glance down so many have already grown across your legs. 

“Who are you then? And who do you want to be?” Gojo’s words are so soft, casual and almost friendly. 

The question even seems like one of your nymph companions would have asked you. Except Gojo’s directed unflinching attention almost makes you fidget.

“I…” you don’t even know how to answer. Even as you try to gather a reasonable one, the words feel chained in your throat.

You instead sigh and return to braiding.

Eventually the words come out, more of a whisper than anything.

“I’m me…that’s all. And I want to continue just being me.”

It probably made no sense, maybe even sounded awfully simplified at all to the god who watched over the dead. But the words held heavy truth in your heart.

You might not fully know who you truly are, but the choice to figure it out, to grow and simply make decisions for yourself, is all you wanted. You don’t want to be a simplified extension of your mother or a piece to use in a marriage arrangement.

After braiding in another daffodil stem, you notice the king beside you has gone quiet. 

When you turn to the side you discover the god of the underworld is gone.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

Something dances in the air, an unknown sensation that tingles and crawls against your skin. It feels like a warning you can’t fully describe. 

When you try to press your mother about the meeting she avoids the conversation completely. It causes enough anger to rise so quickly in you that thorned roses pierce your hands. Then, one morning she arrives at your side with the heaviest expression.

“Mother, please tell me, what is happening?” You try asking as earnestly as you can. 

Your mother, with her emotional turbulent eyes like a brewing storm, instead walks over to you and tenderly holds you in her arms.

“Know everything I do, I do for you.” Then she vanishes.

You swallow back a frustrated scream and instead furiously stomp away to your spot by the river stream. 

Thankfully none of the tree or forest nymphs come near you. They must sense your frustration or see the prickly cacti slowly starting to sprout around you like a safely sharp fortress.

“Did you finish my flower crown, petals?” 

A twinkling voice comes swift. It galvanizes your body as you scramble up fast to whip around.

There behind you, with an amused ease, stands the king of the netherworld. At the sight of him, the cacti plants bloom wild and bright buds.

“I like the color of these.” Gojo smriks nudging his face towards them.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper. 

“I’m sorry, petals, don’t have much time.” Gojo frowns and then squares up firmly. It stuns you at how broad and striking he looks, a black ink stain against the picaresque forest landscape that has you captivated.

His face is somber, a true image of a composed ruler. 

“The others made a decision. You’re going to be married off to another young immortal. But… your mother is coming to get you. She plans to keep you locked away. Made a whole scene about it.”

The words pierce your heart, piece your lungs and maybe your very soul as you choke on an exhale.

Blinking away tears, you stare at the king.

“Why are you telling me this?” Your voice cracks.

“Because I believed you deserved to know, and that you deserved a choice.” Gojo answers but in its simplicity you find absolute comfort.

“So here are your choices…” Gojo continues and the scenarios flash a vivid picture in your head.

You can let your mother whisk you away and keep you locked by her side forever. Or you can let the lord of the sky decree all powerful and place you in a marriage with someone you don't even know.

“Or…” Gojo’s voice now dances optimistic and light. 

“You can come back with me.”

The offer hits you with the force of a landslide. You sputter out nonsense, unable to process what you just heard.

Gojo decides to clarify himself.

“Come back with me.” He beams. “No one will know where you went. You’ll get to lay low for a while, maybe figure out what you want to do. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

“And, best part of all? You get to enjoy as much time as you’d like with me.” Gojo sounds absolutely ecstatic at the idea. 

Spending time with him and in the underworld however sounds like a terrifying punishment. Just the thought of the underworld itself draws a haunting dread. Would you be safe there? Could you even last long among the cold dreary depths?

The wind blows fluttering leaves around you. The strange sensation you sensed in the air arrives thicker and now the wind swirls like a warning. This time it urges you of your mother fast approaching with the fate tied with her.

Surprisingly, the lord of the underworld waits so patiently silent. Then, a cocky smirk twitches his lips, a silent challenge almost as if to say he might know your answer. 

Your answer comes in three simple steps. Before you are even fully by his side, you blink and disappear from the surface. 

In the forest, all that remains of you are the cacti now completely covered in glorious colorful blooms.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

The underworld is a crystal dream.

When you first thought of the realm of the dead your mind conjured up a dreary desolate wasteland, one filled with anguish and wailing, dark hallowed hallways lined with skeletons. Instead gem lined caverns greet you wherever you go.

A solemn gloom however faintly hangs in the air and could not be ignored. You spot multiple shades, souls of those who have passed, wandering towards the different rivers or simply fading in and out at the edge of the castle. Death did soak this land. From a distance the looming light of Tartarus solidifies that haunting realization. The blood soaked fire orb flickered a chilling reminder of the dangers this realm posed.

“How long will I be here?” You had asked. 

“As long as you want.” Gojo chirped. “You can leave whenever you want. Can take all the time you need to figure out what you want to do.”

It was warm and heartfelt. However…

“There are only two rules I need you to follow.” Gojo had added ominously and shattered the warm welcome. The rules were simple.

Never go to Tartarus.

And never eat anything from this world.

Simple, but the ominous directness sparks your mind to wonder about what terrors really did lurk here. Besides those two warnings, Gojo welcomes you with grand excitement into his grand home.

That first night you arrived he practically bounced with every step as he showed you around the kingdom. You were so worried the sight of this world would scare you. Instead elation and even a tinge of appreciation blooms in you. You had never once imagined in your lifetime that you’d ever see this. A new appreciation emerges for this place that would be housing you until you figured out your path. 

Gojo also introduced you to the two other immortals living within the halls of the underworld.

Shoko, the goddess of death, who with her stunning features and dreary eyes smiles so kind whenever she sees you.

Then there was Utahime, the goddess of magic, of spells and the crossroads. 

“I hope you will enjoy your time here. The underworld has a special way of… revealing to us our true selves.” She had told you sagely. You enjoy browsing her vast collection of scrolls and you eagerly listen to any tales she shares with you. 

Even during the times you spend with her or Shoko, the king of the underworld quickly arrives to your side like a persistent gnat.

You decide to take strolls along the charcoal sand riverside, a familiar tradition you did on the surface. Gojo accompanies you any chance he can.

He’s a curious creature and asks you a range of questions. What do you love most about the surface? What do you dream of? What color do you associate with yourself? You answer them all and then some. You tell him about the nymphs, your friends, about the days you used to grow sunflowers so big they would rival trees.

He snickers, makes playful commentary, but listens with full rapture. His attempt to know you better has you grudgingly slowing easing into his presence. 

As much as you enjoy the time spent along the riverside, it doesn’t compare to your favorite place in the entire underworld.

The Elysian Fields stole your breath away the moment you first saw them. You never believed anything organic could grow in a realm meant to harness and hold the dead. Yet the fields stretched before you in wonderful waves of green, of color, of life.

It’s why you spend so much time here. 

Among the grass and the trees, your mind can freely wander. Your mother must be upset. You could only imagine the pain she must be going through not knowing where you are. But frustration quickly leaks in remembering if you did return to the surface, what life could you be able to find there? 

You dig your feet into the lush grass and try not to let poisonous annoyance overwhelm you.

“You look lost in thought.”

Gojo’s voice flutters in. Then his shadow falls over you. You don’t even have to glance your head up because the king of the underworld casually sits down beside you. 

“Haven’t figured anything out yet huh?” He asks and you shake your head a quiet no.

“That’s okay. There’s no need to feel pressured or get upset about it. It’s a big decision, trying to figure out what path you want your life to take.”

You never expected him to be this comforting.

“Besides, it’s not often I get visitors here. So I’m enjoying your company as long as I can, petals.” A grin spreads across Gojo’s face as wide as a sunrise.

All you can do is yank up some of the grass and playfully throw it at him.

He laughs a bright snicker but you notice something very quickly. The grass never fully hits him. The slight distortion peaks your curiosity and you go to do it again.

“If this is your form of attack then I can only imagine how terrifying you’d be in battle.” Gojo teases but you pay him no mind because the grass again does nothing. It falls short from hitting him as if he’s protected by something.

Completely ignoring his comment, you ask him about the strange occurrence.

You appreciate how comfortable you’ve become here and with the god of the underworld to now ask such questions. The king’s lips twitch.

“What exactly have you heard about me?”

A strange question but one with a layered answer. Simply put, he’s the ruler of the underworld, considered the strongest of all the immortals. 

When your mother had told you stories of the titan war, she never failed to mention the power the ruler of the netherworld held. And there is one image tied to him you remembered vividly.

“A helmet, I heard you wrote a helm that gave you immense power.” 

The entire time here your mind has thought too much about the helm. You wondered what it looked like. What was more dangerous though was the curiosity, the desire, to see what he would look like wearing it. 

Gojo’s face blooms with a toothy smile.

“It’s…not technically a helmet.”

Then the god playfully points at the blindfold across his eyes. 

The grand helm has been in front of you this entire time and you didn’t even know. Of course he wore it constantly. 

“That’s incredible.” You can’t help but fully admire the black cloth now. To think something as simple as this cloth was so strong to be considered a war helmet, it amazes you. 

“I heard it made you invisible though. I remember asking about it!” You blurt out. That was another legend you heard about from a few of the nymphs.

“Oh? So you’ve asked about me, petals?” Gojo smirks slyly and your face heats up. Carnations rapidly blooming start to tickle your ankles and you immediately squish them. 

“You know, I’ve always wondered where that rumor came from.” He hums, thoughtfully. “But no. I don’t have powers of invisibility. Instead I have something way more impressive.”

Pride swiftly leaks into his voice and flourishes more when his chest visibly puffs up. The vivid image of a colorful squawking peacock flashes in your mind and you almost snicker until Gojo raises his hand up.

“Hold your hand out for me please.” His voice drops lower and the tone jolts your heart. You wearily lift your hand up. 

Gojo presses his hand against yours. Your heart beats faster, rivaling a humming bird’s wings, and you wait for the impact.

It comes. However, Gojo’s hand applies no actual pressure. You don’t touch his skin or brush against his fingers. Instead only liminal space floats between. The barrier can’t be more than a hair width away yet feels as if it’s oceans wide. 

“What is it?” You ask breathless and intrigued.

“Infinity.”

Gojo explains how the helm, his powers, rely on the eternal force that is infinity. Everything repeats. Everything can be continued into an unbreakable cycle, the purest form of infinity. 

“And what is more infinite than death? Even universes are born and die.” He speaks with an ancient patience. But, you swear you catch an underlying sadness in his voice just out of your reach. Or maybe it is just your own sadness that you were facing as you realized the weight upon Gojo’s shoulders. 

He exists as the personified infinity of death’s cycle continuing over and over again and someone must watch over it. He is unable to step free from that cycle because he is it. 

“You look so sad, petals. What? Am I boring you?” Suddenly Gojo’s jovial voice shatters your thoughts.

The black cloth hiding his eyes holds more weight than it did moments before.

Then you notice none has pulled their hands away, neither your or him. No one makes an attempt to move even now. You simply sit there with the space of infinity resting solid, unwavering, against you and Gojo just out of reach. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

In the underworld, monotony can creep in easily. You find even after browsing all of Lady Utahime’s interesting collection of spells and curses, you grow restless. 

“If you ever get bored,” Gojo previously told you. “You’re more than welcome to join me in the throne room.”

You had only seen the throne room during the first grand tour Gojo took you on. Now you stare at the throne room’s grand doors petrified to even open them.

“Why don’t you go inside? He would enjoy your company.”

Shoko’s calm sweet voice makes you almost bolt like a skittish deer. Caught red handed and the goddess of death sleepily smiles.

“Oh no. I couldn’t!” You sputter out. 

For some reason, the thought of seeing Gojo on his throne, in his role as king of the underworld flickers something hot to boil under your skin. Shoko’s curious gaze burns a hole in the side of your face.

The goddess gives you a soft nod then continues her walk down the hallway. 

“You know, there’s a hidden alcove above the throne room that can be accessed from the stairs…just a thought.” Shoko muses aloud glancing over her shoulder with twinkling amused eyes. Then the goddess turns a corner and leaves you alone with her words rattling in your brain. 

Were you going to watch Gojo from the shadows?

Before you could even rationalize your thoughts you move quietly up the stairs until you reach your destination. 

The alcove is a type of balcony obscured by the columns towering in the throne room. The view from high up grants you a wonderful sight of the entire room composed of marble and crystal. Instead of the imposing grand ruler you imagined sitting regally composed on his throne, the white haired god is sprawled half lying across the large throne. For some reason you’re reminded of a lounging lethargic cat and you bite your cheek from laughing. 

Gojo stays reclining for some time. Eventually he does pull a scroll out from beside his throne and glances it over. At first you thought he appeared bored. But now as he sighs and flops to the other side of the throne childishly, you now think -

He looks lonely.

Even among the walls gleaming of the riches soaked in this realm, this incredibly boisterous immortal seems lonely. You even notice a hollow air rests in the room and reminds you of a day in winter when the earth seems frozen.

Then a giggle comes. 

You wonder if maybe you misheard it. That is until a child quickly peeks from behind a column. The little girl pops out a bit more before returning to hiding.

Very quickly she scurries to a column closer to the throne. 

Your eyes flicker to Gojo who continues overlooking the scroll on his lap.

The girl begins to tip toe closer and closer to the throne. You now wonder how the king will react. She seems gleeful, unafraid of him. Especially as she approaches with the proudest toothy grin on her sweet face.  

Then Gojo whips around to her.

“GOT YOU!” He shrieks proudly and even points at her accusingly. She jumps like a scared little rabbit until she hunches over laughing. Her joy fills the throne room with so much warmth you find yourself smiling at the interaction. 

“I got closer this time!” The girl stomps pouting and her face puffs up adorably.

“You did! I have to give you credit for that Rika.” Gojo addresses the girl with a delighted friendliness.

“I’ll get you next time!” The girl, Rika, announces sternly as her face furrows determined. 

“I believe you.” Gojo nods and you even believe him. 

The girl narrows her eyes harder at the king but then she quickly giggles. 

“Why don’t you go back and play in the fields, Rika? It's much nicer than playing around here in this boring place. Trust me I don’t even enjoy being here sometimes.” 

They both share a giggle and Rika beams up at him so kindly.

A molten smile draws over Gojo’s face and your heart melts. Softness, gentless, looks wonderful, beautiful even, on his handsome features.

“Alright you little pest, head back to the fields you go.” He playfully shoo’s Rika away with a dismissive wave and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Turning on her heels, you watch Rika slowly fade into the air. A sadness settles over you knowing this young girl passed away so young. But, it comforts you seeing how joyous and bubbly she is even in the afterlife. 

Then, it slowly dawns on you. 

The lord of the underworld is not the terrifying monster whispered to be. He is a silly terror, a bit eccentric, but a kind man. 

Your eyes glaze over staring at nothing in particular and you decide to leave as well.

As you rise from your little secret perch a shadow looms across you. Glancing up, the lord of the underworld towers grins down disgustingly victorious.

“Well now, aren’t you just the sneakiest little weed I’ve ever seen!” 

His comment pulls an indignant shriek out of you as you scramble up. Your face is on fire and you storm away in fast rapid stomps.

Gojo follows fast behind laughing so loud it bounces off the walls and echoes among the throne room. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

Days come when tears sting your eyes thinking about the surface. You do miss your mother. 

You miss the feeling of the sun on your face, the breeze of autumn fluttering in for the change of the season. You can’t even remember how many days have passed since your arrival in the underworld. 

But even thinking about returning to the surface terrifies you stiff. It makes your stomach turn because you know your answer to what lies above. 

You don’t want to be in an arranged marriage and you don’t want to be locked to your mother’s side. There was no middle way, or other option between these two.

You stay in your room for a few days, wiping away the tears.

Eventually out of your clouded haze a soft knock arrives at your door.

Gojo waits on the other side. You don’t like how effortlessly your heart jumps seeing his tall stature leaning against the door, a striking ink stain with his black robes. His lips are a small but sad crooked grin.

“Can I show you something?”

You wordlessly nod and follow his lead. He doesn’t press you about your sudden cloistering. He doesn’t try filling the space with talk. You’re grateful in the silence that he understands.

Through different corridors of the castle this area feels unfamiliar and a spark of curiosity flickers in you. Then Gojo stops.  

There in the shade of the hallways, a secluded large square open area is before your eyes. The area seems out of place carved out from the marble and gem walkways 

“What is it?” You feel a bit foolish asking.

Gojo grins wide beside you. “Why don’t you go and find out?”

You give him an incredulous and worried look. This could be a playful trick. Utahime had warned you how notorious the lord of the underworld was at playing surprise tricks which included hiding behind corners to scare anyone passing by. 

“I promise, you’ll like it.” Gojo however reassures you with a gentle earnestness. So with a sigh you walk and step into the patch.

Beneath you is actual soil. It’s soft, smells of comfort and you can’t help it, a watery laugh escapes you. How long has it been since you felt the earth above?

Even since you visited the Elysian Fields, you discovered an ominous truth about your favorite spot. 

“Nothing can grow there.” Utahime told you sadly. “While everything is lush and beautiful and cannot die. However, nothing can grow as well.”

But you remembered the carnations. You knew they bloomed when you were there and you revealed that to Utahime.

Her lovely face scrunched up in wise thought and her eyes became distant.

“Unfortunately it could have just been a simple fluke. The Elysian Fields are meant to be a place of peace. Maybe it was trying to comfort you as well… let you feel some sort of semblance of the surface world.”

The thought was comforting but also carried an ocean abyss of sadness. Understanding nothing could grow here in this world made sense.

But now you sat on solid soil, true soil from above.

You scramble to your knees and can’t help but dig your hands through it. The cushiony familiar texture, the smell that has been with you since you were a sapling. Tears threaten to cloud your vision.

Turning around, Gojo is there leaning against the hallway’s frame and beaming bright like a marigold.

“How?!” You ask breathlessly, unable to still process this.

“I have my ways.” Gojo coyly replies. More questions only rise in you but you quietly set them aside.

“Utahime said nothing could grow here.” 

“Hm…that is true. But, why not give it a try?” Curiosity oozes out of him. 

So you decide, why not. With your hands in the soil you inhale and the magic in your veins flickers to life.

You clutch the dirt tight in your grasp as if trying to hang on to this last sense of who you are.

Out of the earth. a small green sprout suddenly peeks out. 

Absolute excitement and giddiness unfolds in you like a wild hurricane. You can’t help but snap your face back to Gojo in pure joy.

A wide open and even a bit proud smile illuminates his handsome face.

“Well look at you, petals! Nice work. Although I was expecting a tree or something, that little thing is nice I guess!”

You playfully throw a handful of dirt at him. It’s childish but it’s the only way you can fight the fondness growing in you, a festering weed you don’t know if you want to eradicate. 

Gojo breaks out in amused cackles. His cheeks puff up and you can almost sense the amusement in his covered eyes.

“I’ll let you enjoy.” He pushes off the hallway frame and is about to turn around when you quickly call to him

“Wait.” 

He freezes and glances over his shoulder. 

You have to ask. “Why did you do this?” 

Now the god of the underworld fully turns his attention back to you. 

“Do what?” 

You sigh exhausted at his innocently coy reply.

“Why did you do this? Give me this plot of land?”

Gojo’s lips, which you have been alarmingly thinking about more, turn into an eased crooked smile. 

“It’s a gift. You’re my guest here and my friend. So why not?” He replies anticlimactic, even shrugs. 

The answer is not satisfying and it slightly irritates you. But you’re still grateful. You might not know the true reason why he did this and might not ever know. But Gojo still did this for you all the same. 

So gathering that gratitude you smile at him, a true earnest one. 

“Whatever the reason is…Thank you, Gojo.”

This is the first time you say his name. Just the taste of it in your mouth leaves a strange tingle. 

The ruler of the underworld’s face. It drops so fast that you barely catch it. But it was there. A look of pure surprise, confusion and something else you can not pinpoint. But all of that quickly vanished only to be replaced by a smile radiating artificiality. Then Gojo vanishes.

In this new space, you exhale against the new weight building in your chest. Leaves then begin tickling your hands and you glance down at your new blooms.

Pure confusion strikes because this is actually a brand new bloom.

You’ve never seen this flower before.

Delicate cotton white star-like flowers greet you and you’re afraid to even touch them. So many of them cluster around each other in rather tall stalks. They remind you of lilies in their shape but are smaller and have a fragility to their thin petals.

You stare at the blooms slowly filling out the area around you until you are completely surrounded.

Horror strikes you fast. 

The cloudy white petals match the white hair of the lord of the underworld. 

Unknown to you, as you sit frozen among your new flowers, wheat fields decay above on the surface.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

As much of a king and ruler he is, boredom plagues Gojo most of the time. It doesn’t surprise you one bit. 

He pesters you constantly in your garden now. Currently you threaten to grow Venus fly traps large enough to eat him.

“You know, I’d actually be interested to see that.” He muses light and you hate that the thought of creating such a thing has you curious as well.

Gojo and you exchange a glance. Soon enough a large Venus fly trap stands around the same height as the god.

“It’s huge!” He cries impressively and pride flutters through your chest. 

Then the underworld's king sticks his whole head inside the opening mouth of the Venus flytrap and waves his hands with the brightest expression. 

You scream in panic and Gojo cackles beyond entertained. He thankfully removes his head. It’s perfect timing as the plant’s prickly mouth snaps itself shut. 

You are horrified but Gojo just continues to laugh. 

He opens the plant’s mouth and starts moving it. Changing his voice to a high pitched tone, he begins talking as if he’s the plant itself in some sort of bizarre performance. 

“I beg your garden?!” He shrieks in an absurd voice.

It’s ridiculous, unbelievable and you can’t help it. You burst into wild giggles that shake your body. You have laughed more in his company than you can even remember. You’re having true fun with him in a way that you can’t even remember experiencing with your old companions.

You remember previously noticing how lonely the god of death looked and it only made you wonder how you’ve also tasted loneliness. Always stuck to your mother’s side, living in her shadow, it grew lonely there. 

“Don’t laugh at me! Just wanna have fun, be-leaf me!” Gojo continues in that shrill tone. 

Now here you are laughing in pure fun at his antics.

Gojo quickly drops the performance and immediately asks you to make a lotus as small as a clover. It’s tricky but when the flower unfurls a tiny lovely blossom in the palm of your hand, Gojo cheers.

Then you start thinking of jacaranda trees the size of bonsai. With a furrowed concentration you form a beautiful miniature tree. The lovely violet blooms even so small color the area exquisitely. 

“You’re incredible.” He breathes out the words and they almost sound in awe. 

You try not to get flustered but it is hard with his attention so intently focused on you. Instead you wave your hand out. Playfully a bunch of cherry blossoms nearby rapidly swirl in a whirlwind of petals all around him

Gojo shouts an amused ecstatic cheer, flinging his hands up among the petals. You snicker even more. 

It becomes a game. Gojo offers new plant ideas or to grow vegetation he never knew existed. His face genuinely scrunches up at the odd smelling plants you call forth and you snicker pleased at his reactions.

Eventually you take a seat and start to make a few flower crowns. One particularly is for the young girl you saw in the throne room, Rika, and who you’ve caught now a few times peeking at you from around the palace columns.

No surprise but the lord of the underworld takes a seat right by your side. 

“A flower crown huh… You know, you never made the one I asked for when we first met.” He comments with the worst pout. 

Of course he remembers that. You had even forgotten about that meeting by the riverbank. 

You scan around looking for something to use until you spot the perfect crown. 

Reaching to a nearby shrub, you break off a bare small twig. You regally place it on top of Gojo’s head.

“Aw!” His deflated reaction, seeing this powerful god with a simple twig on his head, has you snickering. Then you realize Gojo stopped his infinity barrier for you to place it on him. 

You don’t even want to linger on that thought. So violently shoving it away, you continue braiding the flowers. You concentrate hard, even scrunch your face as you weave in lily stems. 

A delicate but soft crawling sensation suddenly dances across your leg. The culprit is a branch from a leatherleaf fern Gojo has plucked. You wiggle away in a panic.

He again drags the delicate green leaves to playfully tickle you and try squirming away from him as much as you can. An urge to even hiss at him rises. 

“What?! Are you ticklish, petals!?” Gojo beams with excitement. 

“No, you’re just annoying!” You reply sharply trying to stay calm. 

The king however is patient and stubborn. Instead of relenting he wiggles the fern’s large leaves firmer across your arms then to your shoulder where it meets your neck.

You squeal, laughing so unattractive as you wiggle away with all your might to flee from his playful torment. You can’t even chide him to stop, too caught up in the wild infectious giddiness taking over. 

Your body buckles under the ministrations very slowly until your back rests on the solid soil ground. Your eyes snap open.

There, the god of the underworld leans over you.

Gojo is handsome. You knew that from the first moment you saw him. But now you take in how wide his shoulders are, how celestially white his hair glows, and how compromising, as well as dangerous, this position is.

Your mind had started drifting more and more towards deeply temptatious thoughts of him. Thinking of how your hands would grasp his broad shoulders, wondering how his body without any barriers would feel pressed over you. 

A dizzying fire licks through your veins. Gojo finally stops his tickling bombardment and now stares down at you. Even without seeing his eyes they pierce you with a hypnotic pull.

A moment passes or maybe a millennial has. Time ticks by too molten to process.

You want him. You hate how badly you want this infuriating man. You hate thinking about how easy it would be to lean up and kiss him. As tempting as that idea is, how much it consumes you, you remember a heavy truth. If your lips leaned up to kiss him you would only find infinity.

Before anything else can be said or done you rapidly spring up from the soil like a new bud. You say nothing. Neither does Gojo. Quickly you return to braiding your poor discarded flower crown. He remains quiet long enough you wonder if maybe he left your side quietly. 

Until the ground shifts besides you as Gojo moves to stand. 

“Don’t let the plants eat you, petals. You wouldn’t make good fertilizer.” 

You can’t even find a quick retort to shoot back at him. 

When you reach for a few roses to add their lovely color to the floral wreath, you wince. A sharp prickling sensation stabs your fingers.

Drawing your hand back you see your golden blood, the ichor of an immortal, dripping down your fingers.

Suddenly an image flashes wild and frantic in your mind.

Gojo appearing before you suddenly. He inspects your wounded hand. Instead of applying a wrap or even allowing you to heal with time as all immortals can, he delicately places your bleeding fingers into his mouth. He sucks on them gently and fierce. His tongue swipes against your wound, against the blood. He moans, loud, debauched, and it mixes with the wet slurps. He sucks and sucks without any desire to stop. His tongue fondly runs up again along your fingers. The pressure of his mouth, the warmth of it, letting yourself bravely trace his teeth, then feeling him playfully bite your skin… 

You scramble out of your thoughts as a slick liquid heat pools between your legs. Grabbing your flower crown, you storm off to your room praying to flee from the god of the underworld haunting you. 

But you know it is hard, almost impossible, to outrun and hide from a god. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

“I have to leave for a few days.” Gojo explains as he sits besides you in the garden.

The garden has now become a lush oasis for you. Various ferns happily grow to one side. A few fruit trees already take root and grow steadily. So many flowers sprinkle beautiful clusters of colors all across the space. 

Of course your new white flowers continue to bloom patiently and delicately. Wherever you turn, so many seem to pop up. It's to the point even Gojo made a comment upon seeing the new florals.

“Oh? These look new.” You ignored his curious comment. 

Now you ask about his trip with the same curiosity.

“Leaving? What for?” 

A pause comes. 

“Unfortunately there’s been a recent increase in the amount of newcomers arriving in our realm.”

You don’t miss the way your heart jumps hearing him say “our realm.” The main issue at hand however has you concerned.

“Do you think it’s a sudden war? Or a natural catastrophe?” Your heart twists thinking about either terrible possibility. 

“Don’t know. That’s why I’m heading up to figure it out.” Gojo sighs. 

You nod understandingly and sympathetically to Gojo. Even with his eyes covered, his gaze seems to stare somewhere far away. Then he quickly averts his attention to the budding trees you’re tending to.

“This one seems to be doing great here.” Gojo notes curiously. He leans closer to you, a pressure softly pushing against you. Any giddiness of having him so close is quieted by the truth that it’s infinity against you. 

“It is.” You agree happily. “Pomegranate trees are resilient. They just need the right soil and can bloom with much worry. They even can handle different types of pests.”

Gojo hums a curious thing.

“Sounds a little familiar, don’t you think?” He comments but his voice is deep, low. Hearing his tone this way sparks a dangerous desire to life and it drags its claws down your spine. 

“Familiar how?” You hesitantly ask.

Something gentle, barely with the lightest of pressures, runs across the back of your hand. You think it might be his fingertips. Your body reacts, galvanized in a frenzy. But when you whip your head to the side, the king is gone. 

As you sit alone in your garden, you almost scream.

When the time comes to bid Gojo farewell, you now wonder how you’ll handle truly being alone without him. 

“Don’t miss me too much, petals.” He teases and you roll your eyes.

“Please, I’m going to enjoy having this place all to myself.” You scoff. 

Gojo grins like a cat that’s caught a canary and then, he leaves without another word. 

In his absence you find, at first, you do enjoy the peaceful solitude. But that gets old quickly because stars above you do end up missing him.

You didn’t realize how much your existence here has now become so entrenched with Gojo’s. You miss the strolls you and him take. You miss his questions about the new blossoms growing. You even miss the way he playfully throws figs at you at dinner while you sit not eating a single bite. It has become not just a friendship with the underworld’s god but a true deep bond with him.

“Can you stop with the wistful sighing please?” Utahime sternly asks as you lounge in her study.

“I’m not wistfully sighing!” You stammer out embarassed.

“Uh huh.” She does not seem convinced but also does not press the subject further. The goddess of magic instead stays completely focused on her piles of scrolls scattering her area.

The underworld seemed to be slowly constricting around itself. A tension tightened the air. Everyone, even Shoko, seemed scarce and occupied. Whatever was occurring above on the surface was greatly impacting this world.

You decide to leave Utahime to her devices and slip away quietly.

Now you wander the edge of the royal grounds. Your eyes scan the realm stretching out before you. There, like a lantern among the darkness, the fluttering flickering red light of Tartarus shines unwavering. 

It is the last place that you have yet explored.

You remember Gojo’s rule, his warning about not going to it

However, a small twinkle inside you even feels as if it’s being drawn there by a soft gentle pull. 

You could just walk and see it from the outside, not  even enter its gates. No harm would come from just inspecting the grand prison from a closer distance right? 

Before you can stop yourself your feet guide you across the river’s path to the other side.

The atmosphere distorts into something sinister like the way the air hollows out before a terrifying storm. 

Soon the crystalized rocks become jagged spikes. A smell of sulfur fills your senses and a wave of heat begins to tickle your skin. Soon the glowing red is now a vibrant bleeding sun before your eyes. 

You dare not step any closer. 

Terror slowly claws over your body. This is as close as you will get and will ever get. You turn around to walk back. 

“…Little flower…” a soft raspy voice sends a horrifying chill up your back.

Your head snaps to the side. A creature unravels from the bottom of a rock and stares up at you with tree branches like eyes.

A cursed soul.

Something now besides the creature wiggles from the ground. It morphs and shifts from a clay like structure to take the shape of man. He reminds you of a patch quilt and his body screams that he too is another cursed soul.

“You are far away from home, little goddess.” The curse coos.

You can’t even speak as fear chokes your throat.

Move, you have to move! Something inside you screams. It sounds almost like Gojo. 

Before you can move, hands, or maybe branches of some sorts, suddenly snap around your legs and yank you back. A scream escapes you or maybe you believe you hear a scream.

Everything happens fast. Your body is dragged and pulled closer to the prison. Laughter cackles sinisterly all around you and you thrash as much as you can. Tears clog your eyes. You wonder if this is it, if this will be how your end greets you. You swat at anything you can reach, but the panic is rising more and more.

Then a blinding heat sears under your palms.

You can’t help it, your eyes squeeze shut and your hands feel as if they have exploded. 

Then the pressure is gone from across your body. Your eyes, water soaked with tears,

Your eyes open and you find you are free. No more decayed limbs and branches on your body.

You scramble up as best as you can. Your legs however give out from the amount of wounds sliced across you. You try to heal as quickly as you can but being around such sinister evil for so long has drained you. 

Suddenly something rushes besides you and you are too late to react. The patchwork creature jumps on you. With a gleeful monstrous smile he morphs into like a cage claw against your body and has you in his grasp. 

You scream but you can’t even hear it over the horrifying laughter. You thrash, try to free yourself again, but your body grows too exhausted to even move. Your vision begins blurring.

Then another scream of anguish comes but you can’t even process what or who it is.

Your body is released. You pitch forward, unable to hold yourself up anymore. Then someone catches you. 

“Petals.” Gojo’s voice rings panicked in your ears. You wonder if he is a figment of your imagination.  Before you can even focus, your vision gives out and you fade into oblivion. 

The next thing you know, you wake up in the comfort of the softest sheets and a place that is not your quarters. 

When you come into consciousness and see the grandness of the room, the dark shade of the walls, you piece together quickly this is Gojo’s bedchamber.

A new type of panic grips your heart and you scramble up.

“Careful, careful!” Suddenly the man himself reprimands you in a quick panic. Gojo sits up from his chair beside the bed. Whatever emotion lies in your eyes freezes him from approaching you. 

“What happened?” You ask in a small whisper. You wonder if it was all a nightmare, a terror fueled fever dream.

“I found you in Tartarus.” Gojo replies. This is the first time his voice has sounded this upset. His face darts away from you.

“What were you thinking? What were you even doing there?” His voice is sharp as a blade’s edge and it cuts you swiftly.

Your reason now sounds so childish. 

There have been multiple times when you rolled your eyes at Gojo’s antics. You believed him to be a fool, a childish king who has not grown up, a result of being alone for so long here in this realm. But now you wonder if you are the foolish one. 

You croak out an apology that rips your heart open. Squeezing your eyes shut you try to stop the tears from coming but it’s no use.

“I just…I just wanted to see. It was…it was something you wouldn’t understand. I’m sorry.” You apologize again. A poisonous frustration and anger at yourself for being so foolish fills you. If you had only listened. 

Suddenly a hand rests gently on top of yours. No barrier, no infinity. Just Gojo’s soft larger hand enfolding yours. It’s warmer than you expected.

Gojo does not yell, doesn’t even say anything else. He simply sits besides you staring so concerned but understandingly. You squeeze his hand and more tears form rivers down your face. 

The underworld’s king stays by your side the entire time. 

Right before you fall asleep, still in the king’s bedchamber, you swear the most delicate and tender touch runs across your face.  

Once you are healed Gojo, holding your hand, takes you back to Tartarus. 

“I should have showed this place before.” He explains quietly. “I could have only imagined your curiosity.” 

You try to focus on his voice but it is hard when you try to process what lies before you.

“Wait…Are you sure we’re at Tartarus?” 

“Uh…yes?” Gojo replies a bit confused but you are more confused than he is. Because there is no possible way this could be the same place. 

The same burning furious fiery glow is now a simple flicker of a flame like a dwindling candle. All the rocks and sharp spikes have been crushed and leveled into debris cluttering the whole area. The air even holds a haunting stillness. This reminds you of a forest after a fire, a quiet entombment that spoke of a tremendous fury. Did he do this?

You realize as much as you want to know, you want to leave even more.

A squeeze of your hand is all you have to say before Gojo squeezes back. In a blink you and him are back at the palace’s main atrium. But a quest stands there waiting.

“Ijichi!” Gojo cries bright and happily.

Your eyes go wide.

The messenger of the gods. You had seen him in passing and even then you found him to be an uptight god. Now his face is hardened and upset. His keen eyes spot you and his mouth drops. 

Ijichi cries your name and something inside you falls. 

“What brings you here Ijichi?” Gojo asks with a twinkling curiosity.

“You know exactly why I’m here Gojo!”  The messenger snaps and a part of you wants to shrink away. But, another piece of you knows you can’t run anymore.

You know why the messenger is here. 

“I need to speak with you.” Ijichi urges with pleading eyes staring so intensely at you.

Reality weighs you down. You have to address this. You cannot keep hiding anymore.

So you let go of Gojo’s hand and you and Ijichi move to a private room.

You sit down ready to hear about your mother, about the urgency that you need to return to the surface world and face your fate.

But what comes to you instead plummets your entire soul. With a gentle but stern kindness tells you all that is happening.

Horror, dread, and all of their friends, fill your body.

The surface world is dying. Famine plagued the fields. Livestock is suffering. People are suffering.

All because of your actions.

Ijichi, bless him, is not accusatory, does not shame you or put blame. 

“You need to return home with me. I’m sorry.” The messenger urges but sympathy seeps out.

You don’t hesitate to nod yes as tears come in tidal waves.

There is not much to take with you. You say farewell to your garden, to the beautiful palace, to Utahime and Shoko who both hug you incredibly tight.

But when you go to say goodbye to the lord of this world, he is nowhere to be found.

You do not have to search long. He sits in his study. This the most you’ve ever seen him actually use it and look so dashingly studious, regal, at work. He completely ignores your entrance and does not even spare you a glance. 

“I’m leaving.” You announce. He stays silent.

You swallow hard and compose yourself.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay here for as long as I have. You’ve been a wonderful host.”

A wonderful friend. A wonderful companion, and maybe something even more wonderful, so fond and dangerous, you dare not speak its name.

He stays quiet and you are about to walk out of the door when suddenly Gojo’s hand grabs yours in a rapid grip. Your heart trips over a skipped beat from feeling his true hand clutching yours.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He argues. 

“I have to go back. I have to face this.” You urge even though your voice wavers waterlogged.

“You don’t have to. We can figure this out.” 

He does not want you to go.

You even accept you don’t want to either. Not just because you fear the truth awaiting you, but because you’ve become terribly attached to this place, attached to him. 

At first you wanted to laugh it off as simply being stuck here and left with no choice but to just tolerate the god of the underworld. Instead you found you sought Gojo on your own more and more. You wanted to know him, not as a ruler of the eternal realm of death but as the man you learned hates pickled radish and loves any type of sweet treat.

You swallow hard and shake your head.

“I can’t keep running away.” You even surprise yourself at how firm, how solid and unwavering, your voice resonates.

Gojo’s hand releases yours. The air brews tense and thick. Then the god of the underworld lifts his blindfold up. 

Your heart stops.

Beautiful ocean blue eyes stare at you. Of course his eyes would be luminous pools.

You can’t speak, don’t know what to say. 

“Satoru…” he instead speaks first. “That's my true and first name... Thought you should know it before you leave.”

The gift he is presenting to you is immense. No mortals know the true name of your kind. Even you are addressed by a secondary name so tightly tied with your mothers. 

Now he is giving you this pure full piece of himself. His eyes, his name, his heart, all are pieces you tenderly lock away in your heart. They hold more precious value than any of the gems buried in this land. 

Before you can even reply Gojo leans forward.

With the most delicate of pressure, he kisses your forehead. Your eyes water but now for another emotion too grand to process while you drown in its waves.

He whispers out and says your name, your pure true name. He’s never said it before. 

Then he disappears. 

You swallow back a deep sob and return back to the atrium. 

Gojo is nowhere to be seen even when you head to  the stairs that lead back to the surface.

Before you leave, Utahime gives you one final hug then discreetly slips something into your hand. It’s a simple cloth with a sigil on it. You had seen her work on these types of spells many times and knew they all had various uses.

“Should you ever need us again or want to return, just use this.” She whispers low in your ear.

You clutch it tight, like a lifeline. When you go to give one final glance back to the underworld, the king is missing. You can’t find him anywhere and heartache clogs your throat. So you turn your back to the darkness and step into the light of the surface.

The smell of the air hits you first. The crisp scent of the dying leaves arrives in the brisk breeze. A barren earth stretches out before you and you walk into the desolation to meet your fate. 

The sky above is a clouded muted gray. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡⋆ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧

Your mother is furious, absolutely in a rage that would rival a tsunami. But thankfully with your return the earth flourishes overnight as if by a miracle. The lush green should be a comfort to you. The smell of the sunlight should elevate your spirit warm but instead you ache for the soft glow of the gemstone walls. 

“You have two choices.” She tells you sternly. “Either marry the immortal chosen for you or stay here with me.”

You stay quiet and she snaps out your name, a part of you wants to laugh because it sounds like a curse. 

“Answer me!” Your mother demands and you break.

“I dont want neither!” You cry back. “Can’t you see?! The reason I ran away to the actual place of death is because I cannot pick either! Because I don’t want to!”

“Could you truly be so selfish?!” Your mother accuses you with a seething venom.

Selfish. Were you being selfish? 

You once discussed this with Gojo because you had wondered many times if you were simply being a selfish brat running away from your problems. 

“I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Isn’t it selfish of you mother to want to keep you beside her forever? Besides, if you are being selfish then who cares. Nobody realizes it’s actually okay to be somewhat selfish every once in a while, especially when you’re deciding what direction your life is going to take.” 

His voice becomes a soothing balm to your frustration. 

So you bare your soul and heart before your mother. You could never be happy being forced to wed another. Nor would you ever be satisfied staying stitched to your mother’s side. You need your freedom. You wanted and deserved to have your own choice away from those options. 

Her eyes flicker a kaleidoscope of emotions. She thankfully lets you speak the entire time without interruptions. When you are done, she gently walks forward and embraces you. You squeeze her tight.

“I’m sorry, my little sprout.” She comforts you. 

You exhale, relieved. 

“That damn monster of the underworld,” she says with a steady anger. “He filled your brain with nonsense.”

She pulls away and your face falls in horror. 

“Don’t worry. I already plan to discuss with Gakuganji a meaningful punishment for him.”

You cry out a plea to her. But she simply smiles and pats your cheek.

“You won’t have to worry about him or anything else ever again.” She affirms confidently

Your frustrated scream falls on an empty room as she leaves in the breeze of the wheat fields. Emotions bubble up in you so wildly that your head begins to throb. 

The panic clouds your vision. What will happen to Gojo? Why couldn’t your mother listen to you? Then an idea quietly emerges among the chaos. 

You remember the slip of cloth tucked away in the private corner of your chambers.

Before your mother could come back, before you can even fully think, you race to grab it. You trace your finger along the intricate ink and then close your eyes.

When you open them, you are in the underworld, back in your garden. 

It is as lush and beautiful as the day you left it except now the trees have grown in beautifully. Their shady leaves flourish against the marble and crystal. Your eyes land on the lone tree standing so firmly among the others.

The pomegranate tree flowers happily in full bloom filled with a fruitful harvest.

You remember the discussion you had with Gojo over these trees. You spoke of how resilient they were, and he quietly offered how familiar that sounded. The beautiful reddish violet fruit you now pluck so effortlessly from the branches you recognize is you.

You grew and flourished, gained a new sense of yourself. You carved out an existence here and bloomed into a new life. 

You act fast. With all your strength you smack the fruit against the bark of the tree. Thankfully it cracks open to reveal the glistening seeds inside.

A conversation you had with Gojo has been playing in your mind since you returned to the surface.

“Why can’t I eat anything here?” You asked the first time you joined him for dinner. 

“As tempting as these cakes are,” he grins, taking a large bite out of the sugary sweet. 

“Eating anything from here means…you’re pretty much stuck here forever, petals. And I don’t think a pretty bud yourself could handle that now could you?”

Those words echo more than ever as the pomegranate seeds stain your fingers.

You could handle it. In fact you want to embrace it. A life here, with Gojo. You knew the consequences awaiting you. A part of you even screams to stop.  

But you instead scoop out a handful of seeds and swallow them swiftly.

Their juicy delightful nectar fills your mouth. If this is being selfish, you think it has never tasted sweeter. You wait thinking there would be a reaction to doing this, to stealing yourself to this world. The only thing that comes is someone breathing out your name.

You snap your face to the side. There Gojo stands completely frozen.

His blindfold is missing. The ruler of the underworld now stares at you with his bare wide cerulean eyes that rival a field of bluebonnets.

“Petals…” Confliction strangles his voice and his eyes flicker to the pomegranate in your hand.

“What are you doing here? What did you do?” You don’t think you have ever heard him sound this confused and panicked.

“Satoru.” 

His name, it’s all you can say. It’s a prayer so beautiful you never want to stop saying it.

You blink and the king vanishes. Then he is before you. His hand clutches your face firm and he swoops down to kiss you.

You can’t help but whimper as your breath gets stolen from your lungs. You clutch onto the god tighter, desperate to get as close to him as you can. 

Under your touch infinity disappears. 

Satoru’s tongue slips effortlessly into your mouth and explores with a chaotic mess. You taste the same desperation he has mirroring your own.

He lifts you up effortlessly with one hand and it makes you squeak. Then, the two of you are whisked away.

When you arrive in his chambers a frantic edge is set ablaze as Satoru presses you against the cool wall of his room. He effortlessly grinds against you and another whimper leaves you to get caught against his lips.

You are drunk on the taste of him. You don’t even care how loud you pant because you are too afraid this moment could end at any moment.

Satoru starts to kiss the corner of your lips. He quirky nips sharp bites against your skin and your eyes close in bliss.

He kisses across your cheek, down your neck, alternating between kissing and softly biting. 

Then cool air tickles your bare kiss soaked neck and your eyes wearily open. 

Satoru is now on his knees.

His hands reverently run against your delicate robes. A meditative but possessive gleam darkens his eyes making them look like deep trenches.

He kisses your exposed thigh and you tug at his soft white hair. His rich cobalt eyes now flicker up to you.

You sigh out his name with a slight whine as you miss his lips against yours. 

“Shh...” he urges softly as he bites at your skin again harder. Your hips rise on their own accord. He chuckles deep and thick.

“Let me worship you.” He whispers with reverence with eyes drenched in delicious lust. It’s the last thing he says before his tongue suddenly licks an intent path up your thigh straight to your sex and you see stars.

Eventually he carries you to his grand bed where you now lie against him. 

Love drunk in the afterglow you can’t stop giggling at how Satoru continues to kiss any inch of your body. 

“You really are the terror of the underworld.” You snicker playfully.

“Oh of course. Can’t let you forget my reputation.” He beams proud as he kisses your fingertips once again. 

His chest is solid and warm under you as you rest against him. His heart beats like a beautiful strong drum you can rest your ear against and hear now. Instead you slide up higher to burrow your face against his neck. All of this is intoxicating and a gift you cherish. 

But even in the afterglow, the weight of this union settles over a grim cloud.

“My mother is going to set the world on fire.” You mutter soft and pained.

“No,” Satoru kisses the top of your head. “The old geezer upstairs won’t let her.”

A comforting in his own Gojo way and you snort amused for a moment. Against his warm solid neck Satoru only draws you closer to him. The two of you stay in bed for what feels like a millennia but still not enough.

You are about to slide out of the bed when the god of the underworld whines grabbing you back like a child refusing to let go of their favorite toy.

“I need to get ready.” You softly say as you run your fingers through his cloud white hair.

“No.” He pouts. “You’re stuck here with me forever now, petals.”

That is true. 

“I am, but you know I can’t avoid this.”

As you go to slip on the new beautiful robe that of course Satoru had ready for you, he blurts out-

“Marry me.”

Your knees almost give out. 

You screech out a confused noise and whip your attention back to him.

“Are you serious!?” 

“As serious are you were when you banged that poor pomegranate against a tree!” He fires back.

In a blink Satoru is suddenly holding you in one of his arms while the other cradles your face in his hands.

“Marry me.” He repeats again but this time his voice leans sincerity. “Let me annoy you for the rest of eternity by your side as your husband.”

You don’t hesitate. You pull his face towards you and kiss him desperate. The poor robe you slipped on is hastily yanked off and you are returned back to the cooling bed sheets.

“You know,” Satoru muses playfully as you rest again tangled up in his arms. “I never heard you say an official yes or no.”

You lift your head up and give him an incredulous glare.

“You can’t be serious, Satoru.”

“You’re right.” He softly beams down to you. “The amount of times I heard you screaming ‘Yes Satoru! Yes my love!’ was the best answer.”  

You grab the nearest discarded pillow and smack him with it. It fully collides against his too gorgeous face and he laughs at the collision. The tables turn when he swiftly snags the pillow from your hands and playfully retaliates. Your laughter and his bounce together so brightly in the room. It fills you with enough strength to finally face whatever fate awaits you. 

Your beloved headache of a fiancé reassures you with one soft kiss to your shoulder.

Before you can even step out of the palace, the surface world’s entrance cracks open. From the shadows you see your mother and then beside her is the god of the skies himself.

“Oh ho! Well now…this is going to be fun!” Satoru cackles with excitement.

“Hey, my darling soon to be wife,” he turns to ask you. Even with his eyes covered again you know  glee shines in them. “You want the old man’s head on a platter as an early wedding gift?!”

You almost choke on air. Of course you’re not the only one outraged at what he said.

Your mothers voice cracks the air with destructive anger 

“You’re engaged to this monster?!” Her eyes are blistering fires threatening to scorch you where you stand. You reply a solid yes without hesitation.

“Aw! I didn’t realize you liked me so much already, my dear mother in law!” Satoru coos. Your mother flat out ignores him as do you.

“This is prosperous! Outrageous!” The lord of the skies, Gakuganji, thunders in an outrage rivaling your mothers.

“She ate food from this world, and is so bound here.” Shoko explains with a steadied ease.

“There is now way you will survive here any longer!” She seethes at you. “You are not meant for this world!”

“Actually…” Suddenly the poised voice of the goddess of magic herself flutters into the room. With a steeled conviction, Utahime steps forward. She explains how she has been watching you ever since your arrival and noticed changes happening.

“Growth, new life has emerged here. We have all witnessed it. On top of that, I think being here has unlocked new abilities I don’t think we even thought were possible.” 

Powers?

“When you momentarily stopped those curses from Tartarus.” Gojo explains patiently as if he read your mind. Faintly you hear the horrified voice of your mother screaming Tartarus?! 

“I did that?” You ask stunned.

“Yup, you did.” Satoru beams, prouder than ever. 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Gakuganji demands.

“It means she can survive here. If anything it maybe even suggests she might have even been destined to be here.” Utahime replies steady.

Destined to be here.  

You think of the words she once told you, about how the underworld revealed truths about one’s self.

“Even with that possibility, you stay here and there will be no peace.” Gakuganji urges.

You know the suffering that could come. Your mother is a stubborn creature who would never relent.

For some reason, you think of the bleeding heart flower. You think of their stems and how distinctly the flower seems to be two parts blended together beautifully. Some of the petals even have to curl open for it to grow. So you decide to split your existence in half.

“For half the year I will be here, in the underworld with my husband.” The word rolls effortlessly off your tongue and it feels right, feels as if you have always said it. “And the other half will be on the surface. Equal time to each place.” 

Gakuganji hums a moment to consider.

“You cannot allow this!” Your mother pleads to the grand elder god. 

“No one can undo what has been done. The fruit has been eaten and she’s tied to this world.” Shoko clarifies simply. 

Satoru hums a playfully amused noise that makes you want to smack him upside the head. Instead you ask for the room to speak with your mother. Now it’s just you and her, as it has been for so many centuries. Except a canyon now stretches between you and her. She waits on the other side of it a vengeful fury.

“Did you do this to spite me?” Your mother asks pained. Exhaling exhausted, you shake your head.

“I did this because it’s my choice, and because I love him.” You tell her with a patience that even surprises you.  

“And that’s all I’ve wanted. Not to choose between what you wanted me to pick but instead make my own decision.”

“You…you cannot love the lord of the underworld.” She croaks with so many emotions tangled in her voice.

Your lips tug as if Satoru himself pinches your cheeks into a smile. 

“I’m sorry, but I can and I do.” Might be one of the hardest tasks you ever faced, but you would do it for all of infinity. 

Your mothers eyes scan over your face. The emotions in them seem endless, a bottomless well that you can’t even swim in.

“You’ve grown, my little sprout.” Her voice wistfully comments. The two of you simply stare at each other. 

After that she barely looks at you even after the others return.

The decision is made rather simply compared to the riotous calamity that preceded it. Six months with your mother and six months here. But of course, your mother declares your time on the surface begins now. Gakuganji agrees and your spirit pops.

Any moment of celebration, any hope of wanting to enjoy being here, decomposes in your chest. You gather yourself as best as you can.

“Can I at least say goodbye to my husband?” You ask.

“You are not even married yet.” Gakuganji sneers.

“We aren’t. But you could wed us right now and change that if you’d like, old man!” Satoru offers. The old god’s face crumbles up so disgusted you have to hold back a laugh.

Thankfully you’re allowed a moment of solitude with Satoru in his chambers. You embrace his tall frame and he holds you tight.

“My offer still stands. Just say the word and I’ll throw the old man in the one of rivers.” 

“Satoru please.” You sigh.

“What?! All I am saying is there is still time, I could easily throw him in. He wouldn’t even know what hit him.”

A small snicker does leave you as you shake your head no. 

“Fine.” Your soon to be husband sighs disappointed. 

“So much for an engagement announcement.” Gojo teases trying to soothe the moment with humor but a question about your sudden engagement has been weighing on your mind. You need to ask him before you leave.

Holding Satoru’s hand you gently lead him to the beautiful carved out window nook. When he sits completely flush besides you, you reach over to draw his blindfold away.

His eyes are oceans you never wish to leave. But you will have to. Every six months you will be away from this man who has burrowed a hole in your heart and made it his home.

“Why do you want to marry me?” You ask.

His eyes scrunch up slightly curious but also as if he doesn’t understand your question. 

“Because you’re my other half.”

That’s beautiful, but it’s not enough. You’re thankful Satoru senses that’s not the answer you wanted and he sighs dreamily. 

“That first time I saw you, do you remember?” He begins.

At Olympus, that seems like centuries ago now. 

“You had so many petals and leaves stuck in your hair. Yet, your face was so angry…like you could’ve ripped apart the mountain in half.” He explains fondly. “Now I have no doubt you could if you smack a fruit against it.”

“Hey,” you playfully laugh but it’s watery, soaked in disbelieving love.

“But you were incredible, this hilarious creature of both fury and flowers. I had never seen someone so beautiful.” Satoru adds 

His hands now have moved to encompass yours.

“Do you think we’re rushing into this?” You question.

“Do you think we are?” He mirrors it back to you.

A piece of you agreed this is rushed. But then the ache inside of you already dreading leaving this man speaks louder than your doubt.

“Look,” he speaks first. “My life has been the same for so long. Like I got stuck in my own infinity and then you came stomping in… ”

Satoru’s cerulean eyes fiercely flicker up to you and he stares unwavering.

“I’d tear apart the skies for you.” He says simply “You make my life brighter. You and your scrunched up annoyed face you always give me. Your laugh. The way you talk to all your planets like they can speak back-“

“Plants respond better to hearing voices.” you croak interrupting him.

“It helps them grow faster, yes I know.” He finishes for you so cheekily and your heart is about to float out of your body.

“So you really want to marry me?”

Satoru rolls his eyes at your question. 

“Petals, I wanted to marry you the moment you threatened to shove me in the River Styx during one of our morning strolls.”

You bark a watery laugh. “Don’t tempt me. I’d still do it.” 

The god of the underworld suddenly breathes out your name.

Tenderly Satoru leans forward and kisses you. You don’t care that your mother is waiting for you. You simply want to enjoy this slice of eternity for as long as you can. 

“I love you.” You whisper the words, a holy sigh, against his lips.

“That’s nice.” He muses. He’s lucky no throw cushions are nearby or else you would have smacked him. 

It dawns on you that this is the closest to a wedding you will get until you return. So you pull away from his lips and vow yourself to him. 

You vow to always roll your eyes and snap at him when he says something ridiculous. You vow to always now take the biggest bite out of his confectioneries even if he complains. You vow to be by his side until the cosmos collapses and even beyond that.  But mainly, you vow-

“That you never feel lonely for too long ever again, Satoru.” 

His eyes go wide, shimmering almost in awe. The king rushes forward and kisses you with a dizzying passion.

“We would make terrible marriage officiants.” He mutters against your lips.

“Who cares.” You scoff.

“Hm seems I’m rubbing off on you in many other ways, petals.”

You chide him for being crude and he snickers, your ridiculous husband.

“What a cute new queen you are.” 

Queen. By marriage, by love, you are a queen now. 

“Your crown is going to be a twig, like the one you placed on me that one time.” Satoru grins playfully.

“As long as you match with me.”

He laughs so freely and it’s beautiful. 

The thought of being a ruler, a monarch, for some reason does not scare you. You thought it would. Instead it only comforts you knowing the king who would be beside you is Satoru. 

This joyous bubble however deflates as you return to your mother. This would be it. This is your goodbye until six months from now. But even among the heartbreak, a wave of reassurance washes over you. Because it is just six months. Compared to a lifetime without Satoru, six months is a simple breeze.

Once again you bid goodbye to Utahime, to Shoko, both embrace you tighter than ever. After all, you are one of their own now. And your husband, your poor Satoru, now wears the most obnoxious teary face that makes you want to flat out walk away from him. 

But of course you embrace and kiss your king softly.

“You better not kill my garden.” You warn against his tender lips.

“No promises.” He smiles. 

As you’re about to start your journey, Satoru wails dramatically.

“One last kiss to remember me by!” Then making a  horrendous kissing-like sound, he rushes to your side. You effortlessly hold your hand out to stop his face from reaching you. He weeps horrified while Shoko and Utahime kneel over laughing in unison.

You’re amused at his antics but among the hilarity, Satoru leans into your palm. Gently he tilts his face and leaves a soft kiss on the palm of your hand. 

It grants you tremendous strength to start your journey. 

As you reach the edge of the stairs, so close you can almost taste the sunlight, you turn around. The last time you did this, Satoru was nowhere to be found. Now he stands at the very edge of the bottom of the walkway.  

A moment passes. It is just you and him staring at each other. You’re tempted to run back to him one final time. But you can’t. You inhale a deep resolve and Gojo looks on proudly as he nods.

“I’ll see you soon, petals.” His voice is low but you hear it, clear as day, even from the top step. You nod back, not trusting your own voice to reply.

His words give you the push to reach the surface.

The morning breeze tenderly greets you first. Your legs feel like they can give out from all the emotions rushing through your body. So you look down to focus on where you step.

There among the lush green grass your white underworld flowers already sprout below you. Your lips twitch trying to hold back a tearful laugh.

Glancing up you see the grandest blue sky stretching far and wide. 

You’ve always loved the sky. 

Except now your breath hitches at the sight. 

Because the color above is the same captured and crystallized in your husband’s eyes.

In the endless blue you find a new reassurance about the growth waiting for you in this new life. You also think of Satoru waiting for you as well. With the open sky now a welcoming blessing, you walk confidently into this new life.

With every step you leave behind delicate cloud-white underworld flowers blooming beautifully among the grass. 

[twice-in-a-blue-moon]

I was wondering if I could get the brothers reaction to a MC that says "Make me" for every little thing/request.

Could be some Crack, could be some smut implications, whatever you like ^-^

The Brothers Responding to 'Make Me'

Brothers x GN! reader :)

AN: Oh lord, I'd like to apologize for how long it took me to get this out. Holidays and writer's block do not mix well. But thanks for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Dom! brothers, teasing, it's mostly suggestive- mostly, kind of brat taming?, mention of oral in Beel's section

Minors DNI!

Lucifer

He usually doesn’t mind your teasing, actually he secretly encourages it. It’s a straight shot to having you tangled up in his sheets all night.

But it’s been a long day, so much has gone wrong, he does not need your little attitude to add to the mix right now.

If he hears you say that phrase one more time- there it is.

Now he’s dragging you to his room, a smirk spread across your face as you know you’ve won.

Don’t worry though, he’ll wipe it off in no time as he wears one of his own, watching as you writhe in pleasure.  

Mammon

The first time you said it, he whipped his head around to you so fast-

Who the hell were you to tell him what to do? Not that he minds, but he’s trying to remain in control. He wants to do things on his own time damnit!

Oh, but man, have you sparked something within him.

It becomes increasingly harder to hold back as the day goes on and you continue to tease him with those words.

Soon enough you get what you want, finding yourself a moaning mess in Mammon’s bed. 

Leviathan

Woah- where did that come from? 

He’s incredibly blushy the first time you say it, mind already in the gutter.

The more you say it, the more it snowballs his horniness and eventually he’ll snap. 

An incredibly domineering Leviathan appears! Well, if it isn’t the consequences to your own actions.

He’ll make you see why he is the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. And he’ll be sure to remind you for every time you’ve teased him. 

Satan

He tries to be patient with you, he really does.

But he has to physically restrain himself when you hit him with that phrase. It doesn’t make him angry, but it certainly riles him up a bit.

Has to excuse himself every now and then to go to his room and compose himself.

He’s afraid of acting on your demand, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

The next time you say it, he confirms that you’re absolutely sure about this, before finally taking you to his room.

Now that he has your permission, all cards are on the table, he won’t be going easy on you.

Asmodeus

He’s actually really excited when you say it to him.

Loves how you demand for him to take action, it drives him wild.

But he won’t act on it initially, he wants to see how far you’ll go with it.

He will tease you back every time you say it though, so do be prepared for that.

After he’s had his fun, he’ll suggest going to his room and making you do all kinds of things with your body, things you didn’t even know you could do.

He’ll take his time and enjoy drawing that lust out of you. <3

Beelzebub

Taken aback the first time you say it.

It’s not that he’s innocent, he just wasn’t expecting you to say that to him.

And that’s not to say it doesn’t turn him on, it certainly does. But he’s kind of unsure of what to do.

He has internal battles every time you say it. Do you really want him to do that? Would it be okay if he did?

Much like Satan, he fears hurting you, but he can only take so much teasing before he’s pulling you to his room to make good of your demands. 

You’ll be halfway to the Celestial Realm with that talented tongue of his.

Belphegor

Brat vs. brat showdown.

Externally he doesn’t seem all that bothered by your words, internally he’s a mess.

He definitely has his own lines to use to fluster you back. Throughout the day he’ll offer you a little quip, enjoying the way you sputter in response.

Though he’ll get tired of the back and forth and will eventually make a move.

Be prepared though, this sleepy demon will be wide awake as he ends this little showdown once and for all. He’ll show you who’s really in charge.

[itsabouttimex2]

you’ve dragged me into the LEGO monkey kid fandom

so I was wondering macaque with a healer kid? If that’s not too much

I’m very sorry but I love your writing

Little Healer Headcanons

Macaque and Ne Zha

(I always love hearing that I got someone into Monkie Kid- it’s one of the things that makes me happiest to read!)

You spend a lot of your time patching this guy up- by design. Since Macaque has an adorable little friend to mend his injuries, why should he temper his powers? The sable simian never bothers to hold back in the slightest.

Macaque goes out of his way to go overboard, knowing that his dear white mage will be there for him with a stave and a worried frown.

Unfortunately for him, it seems to be that you have a longer line of clients and customers than ever before- not that it’s really a surprise.

Someone was on the other side of all those fights he was winning, after all~

And he’s willing to leave a few more bruises if the crowd can’t part for him fast enough- after all, Macaque will always be first in line to receive your services.

And sure, maybe he’ll ignore your squawking and protesting when he forces you to shut down the itty-bitty clinic (probably just an unlicensed street stall) early to get in a good snuggle, “repaying the favor” by tossing you over his shoulder and heading home so he can coddle you like his own child.

He’ll force you to take breaks by jamming stolen handheld consoles into your hands, setting you up with slow turn-based games and decoration simulators to slowly lull you into a cozy sleep- all while resting your head in his lap, of course- he’s gotta get that fatherly skinship in.

Plies you with healthy snacks and fruit-infused water made to keep one’s energy and health up, ensuring that you’ll always be at the top of your game- but only for him, of course!

If you ever do come around to calling him “dad”, he’s going to be over the moon- in his own subtle way.

He’ll sneak into your room late at night, Rumble and Savage casing the perimeter, and… press a soft kiss to your forehead, snap a little tracker-embedded bracelet around your wrist…

And then drag you off the bed and take you home for good.

Oh, he loves you so, so much.

Assuming that you, as a healer, fall into the “white-hearted healing cutie” stereotype, then you are Ne Zha’s de-facto favorite person.

He finally has someone who stays out of trouble and does as told? He finally has someone who listens to his commands and acts when told to act? Someone loyal and sweet and obedient?

Perfect.

“As always,” he says frequently, one hand on your head, “I am proud of your efforts to serve our realm.”

“Thank you,” is your return, polite and curt. It earns you another head pat, though Ne Zha is always careful not to muss your hair.

“Very good. I’ll send in the next soldier.”

This is the life he’s built for you, safe and slow and useful.

And with him by your side the days drift and bleed, every moment of your time micromanaged and utilized.

It’s rare to get a break unless you work yourself to the point of sickness, at which point he’ll tuck you in with a mug of hot tea and a small basket of fruit on the bedside and “Maybe a bowl of those noodles from that mortal store you like, if you behave yourself, Y/N.”

He tries to be sweet and gentle, but Ne Zha still has a temper and is still very stressed out by the stunts of the Monkie Kids- it’s not impossible that he’ll snap and take his anger out on you.

And though this is pretty much the literal worst thing he’d ever do to you (aside from MAYBE a very mild flogging given the Celestial Realm practices that in the novel? It doesn’t fit with his character at all to any degree so I’m split. He seems more like a non-physical lecturer) it still hurts like hell to work so hard and be so good and still get punished for something that wasn’t even your fault.

And Ne Zha feels like trash afterwards but is too proud too apologize, and regardless is too worried that he’d lose his control over you if he treated you like an equal and outright said “sorry”, so he just takes a trip to the mortal realm and buys you something hot and fried.

He’ll wrap the grease-stained paper in a cloth sack to prevent any confused stares that might arise in the Celestial Realm, and book the horrid food down to your room.

Though the quality leaves quite a bit to be desired, and the healthy value makes him want to scream and slap the burger from your hands…

You’ve stopped sniffling.

And that’s enough for him

[penny00dreadful]

STWG Prompt: star

Steve blinked, the cogs finally sliding into place.

"You're the star! You're the star?"

"Yes! Obviously." The star rolled his eyes. 

He was all idiosyncrasies. Gorgeous but downright snippy. A shock of long dark hair and dark eyes to go with his pale skin. Black tattoos up and down his arms and a heavy silvery cloak shrouding his lithe body.

Steve frowned. "You don't look like a star."

The star scoffed. “Heard that one before.” He muttered before scowling back at Steve. “Well why don’t you tell me then, in your infinite human wisdom, what stars are supposed to look like?”

“I don’t know! Like,” he waved his hand up towards the sky, “like a big clump of burning rock or something. I’m not a fucking astronomer. Why do you look so… human?”

“Why do you look so celestial?” The star raised his wrist to his mouth, trying to chew through the tether Steve had managed to secure him with while he was still getting his bearings, feeling that strange pull, telling him that this human shaped lump at the bottom of this crater was what he was looking for. "Can you take this fucking thing off me?"

"Uh… sorry, no. I can't do that."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because… well because I promised Nancy I'd bring her back the star as a show of… love?" He sounded more unsure the more he spoke. Back when the star was just a meteor or some dust, this was all so simple but now…

"Some girl has demanded you go out and bring back a fucking captive as a show of love?"

"No, that's- she didn't ask me to do anything!"

Actually thinking about it, Nancy had looked almost resigned when he'd suggested it. And a little sad. Like that wasn't really where she had wanted the conversation to go.

Fuck.

Had she been trying to break up with him?

“So you just decided to go into slavery on your own?”

“No! I- I have a way to send you home after… when I show Nancy what I’ve done for her. When I prove it to her. She won’t want to keep you after… she doesn’t abide by slavery.”

The star huffed, crossing his arms and pulling Steve forward a little with the restraint. He didn’t even seem to notice. “And what if I don’t want to go home?”

“Why wouldn’t you-” Steve stopped. He supposed it wasn’t really his place to ask. “Then I’ll free you, you can do whatever the hell it is you came down here to do.”

The star looked at him, thinking, turning it over in his head with a little side to side motion. "Okay, how about this? We help each other out. You let me go and I promise to come with you back to Nancy and then you help me find what I came down here to find.”

Steve frowned again. He wasn’t sure. The star could be lying to him but Robin always told him he was a great judge of character. And it didn’t seem like this star was going to run away. He wanted something down here, on earth.

“What are you trying to find?”

The star’s face went a little pink at that.

Interesting. 

“I… I’ve been watching humans for hundreds of years, your wars, your hate for each other, your petty differences, the natural disasters that devastate your people. But through all that there always seems to be a thread of love. Even if it’s just one person plucking her sister out of the floodwaters or two lovers on opposite sides of the fight meeting in secret… love is always there and I�� I want… that.”

“You came down here to find love?”

The star turned his back on him, embarrassment radiating off of his body in waves. “Yeah. So what if I did?”

How could Steve ever say no to that?

He pulled at the lash around the star’s wrist, allowing it to slip free and dragged it back towards himself.

“Okay.”

The star turned around, his big brown eyes wide in shock. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Yeah. Just like that.”  He held his hand out. “I’m Steve. Do you have a name? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before now.”

The star looked down at his hand as he took three steps closer, looking back up at Steve’s face then down again, extending his own hand, slim fingers and all.

“Eddie.”

Nancy had wanted to break up with him as it turned out and hadn’t known how to do it after Steve had adamantly told her he'd travel outside of Hawkins to find her the star.

When he came back to her to tell her he’d found his own love in Eddie on his travels she beamed at him, placing a kiss against his cheek.

“I’m glad." She said. "You deserve it.”

Eddie, who had never come across a ring or necklace at a market stall that he didn’t like, always drawn to the shine. Eddie who had shed the bright almost white silvery cloak for blackened leathers and heavy boots, as dark as the night sky. Eddie, who had gifted Steve a single lock of hair to bring back to Nancy, promising to meet up with him in a few hours, once he’d finished spending all of Steve’s money at the closest bookshop beyond the Gate that separated Faeria from Steve’s world.

Eddie’s lock of hair that Steve now handed over to Nancy who looked into the handkerchief with confusion.

“Steve?”

He looked down.

Eddie’s hair had turned to stardust.

“He can’t cross the Gate.” Steve whispered to himself, horrified before turning and running with everything he had back the way he came, Nancy’s shouts fading out behind him.

He wasn’t sure how long it took him to run through the old cobbled streets, out into the field but just as the Gate came into sight, he saw Eddie on the opposite side round the corner and start walking towards it.

He could do it, he could make it, he could-

“Eddie!” He shouted, stopping Eddie dead in his tracks before his boot could cross the border.

“Ste-?” 

His words were cut off as Steve bodily slammed into him, throwing them both into the grass and away from the Gate.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart.” Eddie groaned, rubbing the back of his head. “That excited to see me?”

“You.” Steve panted, clinging on as tight as he could. “Can’t cross. Gate. Hair. Turned. To. Lump of rock.”

“Oh shit, really?” Eddie ran a hand up and down his back, settling into the grass. “That would have been awkward. And you came to save me?” Eddie sighed, fluttering his eyelashes. Steve could feel it against his cheek. “My hero.”

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking at Eddie spread out below him, dark curls fanning out around his head and a cheeky grin on his face. He lowered himself down for a kiss, muttering into his mouth “You’re damn right I came to save you. Can’t have anything taking my star away.”

Continued

[heartsforgreedyman]

What if MC died?

listen it's 2 am and I just had this idea. hear me out:

It's long after the initial death when Belphie had killed MC. Like years. And in some horrible circumstances, MC died. Like no magic or time travel could save them or bring them back. This was their fate.

Solomon goes and tells the bros and they just can't wrap their head around it. They're all crying, grabbing their chest, hair, their clothes. Trying to ground themselves to the best of their abilities. In the first 5 minutes of it all, Satan even threatens Solomon, claiming he's playing some horrible joke but no, he offers to bring the 7 to MC's grave.

It's at this point MC is up in the Celestial Realm, causing absolute mayhem. I mean they can't go see the 7 bros!? You're asking to be killed twice over. When the riot they cause doesn't work, they go to the boys' Father.

"HEY! Hey look at me!!"

"I don't have time. If it's an urgent issue go to my attendant"

"You know I fucked your sons"

ABSOLUTELY WHIPS HIS HEAD AT MC LIKE EXCUSE ME!?

"yeah. I fucked em all. the 7 rulers of the underworld!! and you know what? the morning star himself was the best"

que MC falling from grace.

poor Diavolo and Barbatos are just casually walking their way to the House of Lamentation when MC just hits the ground in front of the two.

Clearly surprised and unknowing, Dia and Barb are just like "omg new devil!! hii :D" "are you okay? My Lord maybe we should wait on the check in"

MC dusts themselves off and just "Hey Diavolo!! Hi Barbatos. You like my new horn?" AND THEY JUST JAW DROP

Suddenly you're being dragged to the HoL and Dia is demanding the 7 to come out if their rooms claiming he has something that will break them right out of their stupor.

the 7 begrudgingly go to the common room where MC and Barb stand waiting for everyone. Finally once everyone is in Dia is just like "do it" and Barb shoves MC in the bros faces and they're all freaking out and half are still going through the grief.

"DIAVOLO THIS IS A SICK JOKE"

"MC!? IS THAT REALLY YOU!?"

"YOU HAVE HORNS????"

then straight to story time as to how MC died and how they finally got to fall after a week of hell in heaven. the bros get really soft after, cuddles, kisses, movie night. I mean they have to make up for the lost time now. especially since MC can live on with them forever now!! they don't have to fear they die ever again nor go through that horrible pain

[astralnymphh]

ellie nude hcs yes please. don’t forget to mention them abs and muscles 😩

ellie nude hcs

⋆' aestras footnotes x.

⋆' a/n; decided to write them. right then and there. lmk your ideas below!! enjoy!! MDNI.

masterlist

⋆' ellie, who sleeps half-nude, always ravages her hoodies in the process of taking them off. gets that excited to feel your skin through and through, big spooning you in bed with her perky nipples grazing the grooves of your back. I think most of the time, her boxers will remain untouched when you're just sleeping. but, feeling horny? now they're chucked to some lifeless corner of the room, and the sticky plush of her pussy is dragging against your butt, one leg hooked over your thighs. humping like a dog, as usual. "hahh– fuck, couldn't wait– mmh, can'i touch you?"

⋆' with her toned abdomen, built from the patrol routes that had her climbing, hauling and lifting, she's fucking eye candy. indirectly flaunting her beautiful abs when you straddle her. you always feel the creases and grooves of her robust muscles contracting and tightening whenever you're feeling her up, gulping firmly and staring you down with those emerald eyes. always has to fondle you back, hands reaching instinctively to your hips, giggling into a kiss.

⋆' a girl who loves having her scars caressed by the pad of your thumbs. kiss them, and she's holding you close, pleating her boxers down to her ankles while keeping steady contact, hot breath choppy in her invigorated state. in particular, the scar on her thigh. brush your lips over it, and she'll nearly start riding your face right away.

⋆' the freckles most viable of seeing them that dot her face, trickle down and strike her skin like a cinnamon constellation. shoulders are the next most freckled area of her body. that's why you love kissing her there, she's gone so sensitive for those nibbles, whimpering little "mmhs–" and "babe, fuck–" when you latch there. her pussy is angrily throbbing at that point.

⋆' happy trail. that's it. never shaves it. perfectly horizontal and framed by a beautifully mild v-line down her hips. thank aphrodite this girl wears low rise to show that auburn trail off.

⋆' speaking of hair, yeah, she's unshaved. pretty little bush under those jeans. spokes out on the top leading to her happy trail. a duller auburn, maybe? she doesn't care enough to get rid of it, it's just hair. just bobby pin it to the back if you got work to do!! (blatant referencing) short length pussy prbly. thats so random but that's what my foresight tells me 🥱 who would even go into details like that? outie.

⋆' has the nicest back to ever grace your eyes. toned to just the right amount, celestial looking in golden light, finely broad shoulders, and always needs a massage. predictably tense. more the type to sit criss-cross with you behind, molding your fingertips into the ductile muscles of her neck, laxing her head back with an "ohhhh, fuck." enlongated groan and husky toned as ever as the tension releases with every grip. don't forget the coral red scratches you marked, scraping up her shoulder blades when she hits that g–spot like lightwork.

⋆' i think she opts out of wearing a bra a lot. so, with that idea grounded, perky nipples. sososooo sensitive. which is bad, cause she hates wearing bras, so any loose clothing has to be worn with a tank underneath. won't admit it, but loves when you suckle on the light pink buds. can't you just imagine, scissoring, you on top, ticklish mouth latched to her nipple, digging your hips into hers, and she's all mouth gaping, limbs twitching at every tongue flick, nearly tearing up when you tug it, blowing pushy air through puffed rosy cheeks, callighraphizing her nails indent into your scalp, pussy getting glossy as hell and pounding her hips back up in quick paced rolls, the delicious tightening of her clit numbing up every cell in her body. the next morning, her chest and legs would ache, reminiscence of last nights actions notched in her bones. also her tits would be so pretty. small, but cute. nipples hardening and poking through the fabric when you touch her. ♡

⋆' as much as ellie loves your ass, getting hers nudged and groped when she's pounding her hips into in missionary stuns her reason more than it should, skin pounding harder together, clenching up at your touch, eyelids faltering shut and mouth clumsily flobbing over curses and praises. "fufufufuhckk, purr–fect puss– mhh, s'good baby I can– shit– uhhuh, hold.. on–!" i wanna eat her ass btw. dc if looks small or flat. have you seen the curve of her back during the nighttime farm scene? argue with the clicker idk.

⋆' knees are probably roughed up from how much she's on top, chafing on the cotton fabric, abrasions and discoloration. doesn't help when she's kneeling for you either though 🤣.

⋆' calloused hands. of course. a touch so soft can feel a bit tough and bumpy, but, they probably feel soo good on your clit. added texture when she palms you with three fingers in deep. and the way her taut fingers peel your legs open, gripping the callouses deep into the plush fat of your thigh, letting go and flattening her palm on the inside of them to keep you open. so hot. probably can't even feel them when she slaps your ass though.

⋆' her tattoo.. bro.. gets so aroused watching her tatted arm flex and twine when she fingers you. she's hovering above you, bicep tucked close to her chest, extending towards your cunt and dipping three fingers in those slobbed folds and thumbing your clit. she drones little whimpers and splits her lips only to mock your variably louder moans, "'oohh, ellie', yeah? that' good? who's fingers in you right now? mhm– ellie's fuckin' fingers."

[natimiles]

Midnight Kiss (Levi x reader)

Summary: You just want some alone time with your favorite and show him a human tradition for New Year’s Eve.

Words: 2647

Tags: fluffy; romance; first kisses; best friends; friends to lovers; anxious and shy Levi ftw; no pronouns for reader.

Notes: this was queued for my midnight. Happy New Year! May this year bring you happiness and may you have lots of fun with your otome husbands in 2024 too!

The castle sure was lively tonight, with a huge buffet featuring demon, celestial, and human foods and drinks. Demons from all over Devildom were dancing and chatting, and loud music was blasting from the speakers. As ironic as it sounded, this was a living hell for Leviathan.

Party and Levi were two words that didn’t mingle. His social battery was already low. Seated at a table in the corner, his tie was disheveled in an attempt to help him breathe better, and he looked tired. If he could, he’d just leave and go back to the comfort of his bedroom. But he couldn’t, or Lucifer would kill him. Besides, he knew you liked parties, so he was making an effort — he also couldn’t stand the thought of leaving you with his brothers.

Ah, his brothers. Every time Levi saw you walking his way, he felt so happy, but the joy was short-lived. They would always find a way to intercept you, dragging you across the ballroom, dancing and chatting happily. His jealousy soared, and he knew you could feel it through your pact mark because you’d look at him from across the room and give him the sweetest smile. His jealousy would heighten, and he’d pout, aware that everyone around also saw you smiling like that, even though it was aimed directly at him.

He sighed and looked back down at his video game. At least he could try to distract himself with something he liked. Keyword: try. It was too loud, and he stopped every other minute to scan the crowd, attempting to find you, only to discover you were with someone. The last time he checked, it was Simeon who had his arms around your frame, a confident smile on his face while he elegantly led you through the dance — and there was the vicious cycle again.

Levi looked up, expecting to see you still in the arms of another man. He frowned when he noticed you weren’t with Simeon anymore. Scanning the room, searching for everyone he knew you could be with, there was no sign of you. He panicked a little, realizing you weren’t anywhere he could see. He was about to stand up to run around the whole castle to search for you if he needed to, when his DDD started to go off.

“Heeeey, Levi!” Your voice sounded on the other side of the call. “Are you still sulking in the corner?”

“Wha- I’m not sulking!” he protested.

“Yeah, sure,” you snorted.

“Hmph, where are you?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but your giggles revealed he didn’t succeed.

“In one of the guest rooms, the last one on the left side.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I had to run and hide to have some privacy.”

“Oh, um… Sorry, should I hang up?”

“Levi, I’m the one who called you!” You laughed.

“Ah! R-right.” He bit his lip in embarrassment.

Your laugh died down, but your tone remained amused. “So should I summon you, or are you gonna come meet me on your own?”

“What?” He asked bewildered.

“Come meet me, Levi! What do you think I called you for?” You chuckled. “Just come on! If you don’t come now, I swear I’ll summon you!”

“No!” He yelped. He could almost see you squinting your eyes and pointing your finger at him, with that mischievous smile of yours. “I-I’m going!” He scrambled to his feet and started to walk, being as stealthy as he could while crossing the ballroom.

“Hurry, hurry!” You sounded excited on the other side.

“I hope no one saw me,” he muttered under his breath while glancing back. He walked through the corridors for a few minutes, as you silently waited on the other side of the call. “Last one on the left, right?”

“Yes! Are you almost here?”

He hummed and strode a little faster until he stopped in front of the door. “MC?”

“It’s open!” You replied with a cheery tone.

He took a deep breath, already feeling his nerves getting the best of him just from thinking about staying alone in the same room as you. He hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid and ruin your friendship.

“H-hi…” he stammered when he opened the door, peeking inside the room and finding you sprawled across the king-sized bed. Oh, he was already sweating.

“Hi!” You beamed at him. “Wait, we don’t need this anymore,” you giggled and turned off your DDD, placing it on the nightstand. Propping yourself on your elbows, you looked at the blushing demon, still frozen in the doorway. Raising your eyebrow, you shot him a crooked smile. “Are you just gonna stay there?” He shook his head and closed the door. “Lock it, please.”

He did as you told him and looked back at you. You shimmied to the side and patted the spot beside you, inviting him to lie down. He blinked a few times and took a hesitant step towards you. He was sweating even more now. Could you see him sweating? He hoped not.

He quietly sat down and let his body flop backward, staring at the ceiling. You shifted around and lay on your side, gazing intently at him.

“I couldn’t even spend a few minutes with my bestie down there,” you complained in a low voice.

“Y-yeah…” He cleared his throat.

“I wanted to dance at least once with you, but your brothers wouldn’t let me!” You huffed. “Don’t get me wrong, I love you all…” You trailed off, and he felt his body twitch. Again, he knew you felt his pact mark and his jealousy rising. You chuckled and poked his cheek to make him look at you. “But I wanted to spend more time with you.”

He finally glanced at you, his whole face burning red. He bit his lip nervously, and your gaze followed the motion for a second before looking back into his beautiful sunset eyes. You gave him a smile and flopped down on your back again, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. A few moments of silence enveloped the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You were accustomed to being quiet and just enjoying each other’s company or watching the other play something — mostly you watching him play, actually.

“I wanted to be with you when it strikes midnight,” you confessed.

“H-huh? Why?” He turned to look at you, only now noticing your eyes were closed.

He held his breath and stared intently at your face. You were so beautiful; he could look at you for the rest of his life and still be in awe. And you looked so peaceful, so calm, and so unguarded… did you have all this trust around his brothers too? Well, of course, you did, but… was it so intense? He noticed that you looked even more relaxed when it was just the two of you. He attributed it to the time you spent together playing games and watching your favorite shows; after all, you were his best friend, his Henry.

“You’re my bestie!” You opened your eyes and saw him staring at you. He quickly averted his gaze, and you smiled. “I love being with you. You’re my favorite.”

“A-ah, right. And you, um, you’re my favorite human.” He stuttered but managed to express some of his feelings. He wasn’t lying, but his feelings ran much deeper. He just didn’t want to ruin the awesome friendship you two had by making things awkward.

“Human?” You questioned loudly.

“What?” He looked taken aback. “What’s wrong?”

“Am I only your favorite human? Do you have a favorite demon and a favorite angel that I don’t know?” You pouted.

“N-no, it’s just…” He sat up and looked at your upset face. He needed to fix it. “You said I’m your favorite demon, then I said you’re my favorite human.”

“I didn’t say you’re my favorite demon. I said you’re my favorite. And that’s it.” You gazed intently into his eyes, and he felt his heart stop and beat faster at the same time. Was that even possible? Was he dying? Maybe he was already dead, and that’s why he was having such a nice time alone with you.

He opened his mouth; he should say something. He didn’t know if he would be able to form a coherent sentence. Why was life so hard on him? It was unfair how all his brothers could tell you about their feelings and make you smile, while he had trouble expressing himself. It would be so much easier if this were like when he needed to command his soldiers… He had so much more confidence when he had to be an Admiral, but for some reason, he couldn’t project that Leviathan into his relationship with you.

You were still waiting for him to say something, and he was starting to panic. Lucky for him, your alarm suddenly went off.

“Oh, it’s almost midnight!” You sat up with a huge smile, turning the alarm off. “I set it so we could go to the balcony to see the fireworks!” You fumbled to your feet and ran. “Come, Levi!” You yelled, already outside.

He blinked a few times and got up, following you. You were leaning against the rail, propping your elbows and resting your head on your hands, looking expectantly at the always dark sky. He walked to your side, gazing at the sky and then at you.

“MC…” He called sheepishly. You hummed and turned your head to look at him, still resting it on your hands. “You are. My favorite, you know…” He pursed his lips and furrowed his brows, trying to suppress the blush rising on his cheeks.

You giggled. “I know. You’re my Lord of Shadows.” You winked, and he turned quickly to look at the sky.

“And you’re my Henry,” he muttered under his breath. If you weren’t already used to hearing his voice so low, you’d probably miss what he said.

You stared at him for a few moments, biting your lip nervously. You loved Levi more than a friend should, and you had wanted to do something about it for so long. You just hoped it wouldn’t make things awkward.

“You know, Levi,” you whispered, mustering the courage. You turned your body to face him and gripped the sleeve of his suit, asking for his attention.

“What?” He asked and looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“There’s a… tradition in the human world. For the New Year.”

“Hm? What is it?” He asked curiously, turning to face you too.

“When the clock strikes midnight and the fireworks start, we kiss our favorite.”

“Y-you what?” He yelled, his eyes widening and his hand gripping the rail tightly.

“We don’t need to if you don’t want to!” You hurriedly explained, seeing the shock on his face. “I just… I just…” You bit your lip to prevent it from trembling and tightened the grip on his suit. “I just wanted to do it with you,” you blurted out.

“A-are you sure you wanna do this… with me?”

“Yes, Levi!” 

“Is this some kind of joke?” His tone darkened, just as his cheeks got an even redder shade. You knew he wasn’t mad at you; it was just his low self-esteem kicking in. “I won’t forgive you if you play with me like this!”

“What? No!” You smiled. “I really wanna do this with you. Actually, I only wanna do this because it’s you, Levi.”

As if on cue, a loud ‘boom’ echoed in the sky, followed by a series of colorful fireworks. You could faintly hear the demons attending the party screaming and singing, but nothing seemed louder than your heart hammering against your ribs.

Levi still stared intently into your eyes; his thoughts were running wild, and every fiber in his body said you could be pranking him, that you’d laugh at him with his brothers later at how stupid and naive he was. But a tiny part of him still could see the way you were expectantly looking at him, waiting anxiously for him to say something and hoping he’d say yes.

“We can, um, do… this…” He managed to say something, loud enough for you to hear.

You took one step closer to him, still holding onto his sleeve, using it as an anchor. Your other hand laced around his tie, and you pushed him to your eye level, smiling at how lost and sweet he looked right now. You gave him a few seconds to back out and closed the gap between your lips. Levi tensed but forced himself to calm down and relax. His mind screamed, ‘this is real, this is real, this is real’, and he thought he’d go crazy before even kissing you properly.

Your tongue prodded into his mouth, asking to deepen the kiss, and that’s when he realized this was indeed real, and he should probably be doing something else besides being frozen. Your hands slid up and wrapped around his neck in a hug, and he uncertainly placed one hand on your nape and the other on your hips, adjusting your body against his. A satisfied and relieved sigh left him when he finally let himself enjoy the moment.

It was sweet, embarrassing, tender, and shy, like you always thought a kiss with Levi would be. His hands still trembled a little when he broke the kiss to look at you. Your face shone with the lights from the fireworks, your lips slightly agape and glistening, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes… his breath hitched in his throat when he looked at your eyes and the affectionate way you stared right into his.

“Oh, shit…” He mumbled without thinking. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him, making the demon stutter his words. “N-not in a bad way! I mean… I-I mean…”

You chuckled and pecked his lips to ease him out of his panic. “You know I can feel your jealousy through your pact mark, right?” He nodded. “And did you know I can discern the different ways you’re jealous?”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“When your envy kicks in because someone got a better item in our games, or when you see someone able to do something you wanted to… Or even when you see me with your brothers. It’s all different, and I can tell.”

“Wha- You can?” His eyes widened, and you nodded. “So, um… So you… You know…”

“I love you too, Levi,” you whispered. He opened his mouth to say something, but you knew him well enough to anticipate what he was going to say and cut him off shortly. “More than a friend. Yes, I’m sure. Yes, really sure. Yes, I wanna date you.”

“Very funny,” he pouted. “I wasn’t gonna ask about the date part.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna date me?” You feigned offense. “You just wanted to have your way and leave me?”

“Ah, n-no, no! That’s not what I meant! I just, you know, didn’t think you’d think about it…”

“Well, I do and a lot. But we don’t need to talk about it now, hm?”

“Okay…” He smiled sheepishly. You gazed into each other's eyes for a minute, basking in the happy and loving atmosphere. “Can I kiss you again?” He whispered.

“Please do!”

Your excitement was probably catchy because Levi found himself with a giddiness that wasn’t usually his. It was probably the way you kissed him, cradling his face like the most precious thing in your life. And he probably was. It was a New Year, and he was about to learn some new things, like how to accept your love and make his brain understand that he was worthy.

He had a feeling he’d have lots of New Years ahead to learn even more with you.

He couldn’t wait.

Masterlists

[actual-changeling]

"Well, that went down like a lead balloon."

Crowley did not sneak up on him this time, it was more of an ungraceful drag or stumble with one hand pressed against the still-bleeding cut on his stomach. Aziraphale turns his head to look at him, his eyes lingering on the soot and bruises smeared across his skin, but stays silent when Crowley shakes his head exactly once.

Don't.

"It did, rather," he says instead, as the space around them empties slowly but surely. Stopping the second coming had been exactly like the first apocalypse and nothing like it at the same time. They're both a bit singed, for starters.

"You think we overreacted? Second offence and all."

Crowley tentatively lifts his hand, grimacing when blood-soaked fabric sticks to his palm and tugs on the wound. It would barely require a miracle to heal it, but he is currently quite comfortable in the limbo of not knowing whether the destruction of heaven and hell erased his celestial powers or not.

"Someone had to teach them the real difference between good and evil," Aziraphale continues lightly, leaning into the twisted mirror of their first conversation on the walls of Eden.

"I'm pretty sure they regret sending me up here to 'cause trouble' by now."

Trying and failing to sound humorous, Crowley bites back a groan. Fatigue washes over him wave after deadly wave, and he considers simply allowing himself to fall to the concrete floor when a hesitant arm slides around his waist and pulls him closer, conscious of his injuries.

Crowley freezes for a second before leaning into it, processing the sudden influx of touch and heat as one big, blurry embrace, and it is such a welcome contrast to the painful reality scratching at his bones that his eyes flutter shut. Aziraphale holds him both gently and as if he is never going to let go of him again; unsurprisingly, he finds he doesn't mind that at all.

They stand in amicable silence, swaying slightly without really meaning to, and although both of them want to go home, they cannot imagine a place that would fit that description better than each other's presence.

"You did the right thing," Aziraphale eventually says, and Crowley forces himself to blink up at him, blue meeting gold meeting love.

"With the apple, and trying to make me see the truth, and with not coming to heaven with me. I'm sorry I caused you so much pain." His voice breaks at the end, trailing off into an ocean of unspoken confessions and feelings, but Crowley is pretty sure he couldn't handle more anyway, not right now.

He presses a hand against Aziraphale's cheek to tilt his head towards him, grimacing when he leaves bloody prints behind.

"Angel." It's a name, an endearment, a prayer, a decree, a question. A curse, and a plea, and a promise.

"I'm still mad," is all Crowley whispers before nudging their lips together, tasting blood, ash, and the dawn of something entirely unknown and new.

I still love you, is what lies beneath it.

For the first time in their existence, they're truly free. When it begins to rain, they tip their faces towards the sky and welcome it home.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Castiel pining over Jimmy Novak's best friend (S4)—why do you care for his vessel and not him?

Yandere Castiel became aware of your presence the day he became aware that Jimmy Novak was the person who would be his vessel. He didn't think much of you, simply another human amongst all the others. However, all humans are his father's creations. You seemed like what could be called a good friend—loyal. That is something he could relate to. A loyalty that in the beginning he respected wholeheartedly.

A positive beginning that aged like hard cider into a celestial being's desire of possession and obsess.

Yandere Castiel first met you face to face after possessing Jimmy's body. You had heard about his vessel's troubles and had come rushing over. It's an experience he will never forget.

You parked your vehicle in the driveway and ran out of your car in a panic. He could feel your heightened anxiety and panic, and he almost felt something. It was so peculiar. It made his eyebrows furrow and his nose scrunch up.

He was planning on simply leaving, but you stood in front of him and pestered him with questions. When Jimmy's daughter came out, you told her, 'Me and your daddy are just going for a walk. He isn't feeling well, so we are going to get some fresh air.' Which Castiel thought was ludicrous. He tried to rebuff by telling you 'He is an angel of the Lord and that Jimmy Novak is his vessel—to which you promptly clamped your hand over his mouth and scolded him. 

He isn't entirely sure why he got in your human vehicle. He could have simply whisked himself and continued on the mission heaven gave him. He was supposed to. Still, with this unfamiliar reaction to you, he couldn't help but rationalize it as you being important to the celestial plane somehow. 

So that's how he ended up in a human hospital with you filling out papers that pertain to Jimmy.

Yandere Castiel found no need to pretend, so that's how he ended up dragging you into angelic affairs. Or perhaps it was the other way around. You were quite insistent on staying near him after he explained the situation to the extent he was allowed. There wasn't even a hesitance on your part. You were simply protective over his vessel, despite the fact he is the multidimensional being inside the vessel.

That's when that odd sensitivity popped up once again.

It was almost like you were just as concerned for him as you were for Jimmy. It was quite a useless emotion for you to have, but he was still... flattered? by it.

Yandere Castiel reluctantly separated himself from you to an extent. You had attracted attention from both heaven and hell, so he had to. He had to. Right?

Heaven wasn't pleased with him getting distracted. They essentially wanted to allow you to wander back into the world with no angelic protection. It's like leading a lamb to the slaughter. Now Castiel is no stranger to that. He's watched his brothers and sisters slaughter humans for much less egregious acts. Though this time it felt wrong.

He ended up warding you from all angels, including himself, with your consent, of course. He left a specific engraving on your ribs that roughly translates to 'mine. touch this human and I will smite you where you stand.'

Yandere Castiel felt as if his grace had been ripped from him when he was away from you. Could God have created you specially for him? It was an impossible thought. One no angel should have for a human. That's how mighty beings fall. It is heaven's number one rule not to love anything, not even the humanity their God created.

He pushed himself into the mission he was given and tried to ignore the sizzling sensation all over his celestial body. It's a spiritual reaction to being left without your presence for an extended period of time.

He worked with Uriel, then had to kill his brother. He had to kill many more for you to protect you. He met the Winchesters and learned about them; grew attached. Anna tempted him into developing the capacity for human emotion. He was so lost. You were; you are the only thing that makes him feel found—safe.

He took that safety from himself in order to protect you.

Foolishly, he seeked you and, in return, your presence.

That's when heaven knew they had to reprimand him.

Yandere Castiel experienced things up there that would physically not only break a lesser being's psyche but erase it. If anything, it only made that sizzling sensation evolve into a scorching one. It was as if his feathers were being stripped off one by one. An unforgiving hand that forces him towards you. The heart he doesn't have broke and learned to yearn.

Like an obedient soldier, he listened to their words. He swore his loyalty once again, and he was allowed back onto Earth. He didn't go to Jimmy first, no. He scoured the earth and thought you were gone for good until you called for him. That was a rash human decision. You were only hidden unless you made yourself known.

Yandere Castiel had to come and see you. He had to explain himself and rid this fiery ache from his celestial body. Only when he came to your call, your first question was about Jimmy, not him. You looked past him. You ignored the agony that was everywhere on him.

Why? That feeling didn't ease at your lack of care for the angel in front of you.

Your demands to know where Jimmy was and if his family was safe fell deafly on him. He had to put you in your place. Yes, it was out of anger and hurt, but also a certain amount of righteousness he felt he had to regain. You belong to him, even if you don't like it.

"I learned my lesson while I was away. I serve Heaven, I don’t serve man. And I-I certainly don’t s-serve... you."

He's just an obedient little soldier who has been broken by you.

[incarnadin3]

How Obey Me Brothers realized they were in love with MC: Part Seven, Belphegor

A/N: I'm gonna post this one before Satan and break the order because I have no clue what to write for him, and I originally started this series after thinking about Belphie being in love while being in the (you guessed it) shower. I feel like his is one of the easier ones because of what happened between him and MC and then Lilith. Another reason why Beel's is also really easy to write (hint hint). Also, unlike stated, Lilith doesn't actually hate Belphie, that's a figment of his imagination, and his hate for sloth isn't factual (I think?) that's just for plot. Anyways sorry if there's mistakes, for some reason autocorrect does not want to work. Enjoy~

Belphegor: The Catnapping Seventhborn

Being youngest meant that one could get away with a lot of things, but how could one get away with guilt?

There were only two things that Belphie felt guilt for. Killing you, and being the one that was saved during the Celestial War. Each day, when he looks at himself in the mirror, he sees a demon, full of sloth, and weakness. He looks at Beel's muscles, and wishes he had them too. Whenever he looks at himself in the mirror, he only sees the self-loath. Why couldn't he have had been stronger? If only he was strong enough to save himself during the war, then Beel wouldn't have had to choose between him and Lilith. Hell, he could have saved her. Now, her shadow stands behind him in the mirror, a look of pure hatred on her face.

One might look at Belphie and think, "Man, that's a demon who loves sleep". But no, Belphie hated his sin. It reminded him of his failure to be strong enough to save Lilith and himself.

He hated sleeping. Sure, his powers allowed him to control dreams, but what if his own powers want him to remind him of all his lacking qualities.

One doesn't think much of sleeping positions, and certainly no one batted an eye to Belphie sleeping. Not even his own twin knew when Belphie went into a nightmare. All he wished was that someone could shake him awake, hug him, and take care of him. But no-one noticed the signs that he needed comfort.

Belphie's sleeping positions went as such:

Splayed out - he was in a cozy dream, usually including you as a side character along with his brothers

Big spooning his pillow - in a dream with you (often times a date or a wet dream)

Little spooning his pillow - comfort dream where you reassures him that you didn't have him for killing you

And lastly, curled up - dream of the moment where Lilith died or you dying in Mammon's arms

No one, not even his twin knew that he still had these dreams, or what each position meant. He didn't think you even cared as long as you slept next to him. But today he got proven wrong.

Today was just like any other Saturday morning, full of chaos. On one had, Mammon was microwaving his frozen credit card, Goldie, and on the other, Lucifer was running around yelling, after a certain someone mixed bleach into his shampoo, making him look like a splitting image of his son/brother, Satan. Tired of the chaos, Belphie decided to steal a couple bites before slinking away back to his room, making sure to close his door tightly and hide the empty bleach bottle in case Lucifer and Satan joined forced in finding the culprit and burn down the HoL. Sinking into his bed, sleep took him within

The dream started like no other, Belphie big spooning his pillow as he dreamt of dragging you with him into the attic for a romantic date. But that's when things took a turn.

Belphie curled tighter as in his dream the two of you walked into the attic to see blood staining the wall. As Belphie reached for you in the dream, his hand touched a cold one. As he turned, he saw you, floating like a ghost, pale white, still in the clothes you died in, dried blood on your skin as you stared at him, and said in a gravelly voice, "You!"

"You killed me! I hate you!"

Belphie curled into a ball as he reached for you once again in the dream, as your hair fell into your face, (sorry to my bald MCs) obscuring your face from view.

As he reached out to push the hair away, to his horror, instead of your face, Lilith's angelic face greeted him, smiling, as your, or rather her body began to glow. Her smile turned sharper, as she reached into a hidden pocket in her angelic dress, and pulled out a sharp knife made of diamonds.

Belphie's face paled as he curled into the tightest ball ever, trembling as Lilith raised the knife and screamed.

"First you cause my death and then you kill my descendant?! I'll kill you!"

As the knife shot towards his chest, he snapped out of the dream, sweating as he gasped for air, his entire frame being shook by someone. He turned to see you, a concerned smile on your face as you wipe away his sweat, hugging him tightly and rocking him back and forth.

He doesn't know what takes him over at that moment, but he crumples into the embrace, his usual aloof personality being thrown out of the window.

"Shh its ok. I forgive you. And so does Lilith."

"H-huh? How'd you know I was dreaming of that?"

"I could tell by the way you were sleeping."

Never in his centuries of existence had anyone bothered to take notice of how he slept and correlate it with his dreams. Hell, it was a fucking milestone if someone even bothered to ask how he slept. But for you to tell what his dreams were about without him telling you, and comforting him? He felt like an angel all over again.

As the two of you laid down, him being big spooned by you, he relaxed, never once dreaming of Lilith and you dying ever again.

Guilt is often a crippling thing, and in the human world, it can even end lives. Belphie didn't go as far as that, but with you around, his brothers were shocked to see a smile on his face.

[libby-for-life]

-lean in…-Psst! Psst!!

Sooooooo… I found this little ask box here… so… I was wondering, if ya had the time… maybe something like Adam wanting to run around in hell in his full dragon form without Sera bugging him. And maybe…he finds a pretty little red dragon on one of these days out. At first he’s trying to shake it off, since dragons were something Lucifer made but heaven disapproved of. -Lucifer and Adam would gossip and whine about the all the cool stuff that didn’t make it into the garden- Taking this as a dumb animal. But is persuaded/ bullied into playing with it. Having no idea it’s Lucifer just wanting to play with his friend again. -Lucifer tries not to speak during this time-

Hehehehehehe. I like this!

Adam let out a heavy, exasperated sigh as he wearily rested his cheek on the palm of his hand. The lush Heaven sunlight filtered through the window, casting long, meandering shadows across the conference room table. The meeting had stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and yet, they seemed no closer to reaching any sort of consensus. Frustration simmered beneath the surface as everyone continued to talk in circles, their words blending in a sea of indecision. Adam couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of boredom and restlessness that hung heavily in the air. Another sigh escaped his lips as he longed for this seemingly never-ending cycle of discussion to come to an end.

Adam felt a deep and unmistakable yearning that seemed to arise from the depths of his aging soul - an insatiable longing to stretch out and unleash his wings. However, these wings were not the ethereal golden and benevolent ones that he effortlessly took flight with. They were the formidable and awe-inspiring dragon wings that had been strictly forbidden by Sera ever since his arrival. Upon his initial appearance in the celestial realm of Heaven, his angelic form was a dragon, an unexpected and striking transformation that had unsettled Sera and the entire host of angels.

Sera had taken Adam aside before anyone could take a good look at him. He was dragged to a secluded room and Adam sat, or tried to since his form was massive, through the Seraphim's explanation of how his holy form was inherently evil. "Lucifer had the idea of dragons. We mustn't let anyone know of this form you came here with. It will cause a panic, Adam. Heaven can't ever know."

Adam was filled with a sense of dread as a horrible feeling began to creep in. The realization that his own angelic form could be considered evil filled him with frustration and confusion. He couldn't understand how this could be possible, especially since he had been taught that angelic forms were meant to be perfect. His mounting frustration was further compounded by the presence of Lucifer, who seemed to be once again casting a shadow over his existence. "But...I didn't do anything wrong. You've told me that angelic forms are perfect. So why—" Adam's protest was abruptly cut off as the Seraphim fixed him with a stern glare. "Adam," the Seraphim said sharply, "Are you questioning Heaven itself?"

Adam's face drained of color as the Seraphim appeared to tower over him, her imposing figure casting a chilling shadow over him despite Adam being a massive dragon. "No, Sera! I swear, I don't want to be evil..." he stammered, his voice wavering with fear. Sera tilted her head, studying him intently before straightening up with an air of authority. "It may be due to something you did in your life on Earth. Remember, Heaven's judgment is always just. Keep that in mind."

Adam nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his celestial secret. Later, Sera had taught him to conceal his dragon form and assume a more mundane guise that adhered to Heaven's expectations. However, deep within, his divine essence longed for the unfettered liberation of spreading his radiant wings and soaring through the boundless sky, embracing his true nature without inhibition. Unable to suppress this longing any longer, Adam seized an opportune moment and stealthily ventured into the realm of Hell, seeking an escape from the constraints of his heavenly facade.

Adam had been doing that for years now. He would sneak into Hell to stretch his true form out before returning to Heaven to hide his angelic form away to something less jarring. So far, no one has figured out what he has been doing. Now, if only he could get out of this horrible meeting.

An hour later, Adam's chance to leave presented itself. The lengthy meeting finally came to a close, and with its end, everyone scattered to attend to their respective tasks. Audible relief escaped Adam as he groaned, "Finally..." He wearily rose from his seat and exited the room. No one called out to detain him. Exhausted, Adam made his way back to his modest apartment, collapsing onto his couch upon arrival and taking off his helmet. He found solace in the comfort of finally being able to leave the demands of the day behind.

As soon as Adam had thought about where he would be in Hell he would go, the Wrath ring seemed particularly good this time of year near the Fall, and portal there. He decided on a forest that he liked and had already become familiar with it.

He lazily opened a portal and stepped through, quickly shutting it so no one would see the angelic light. Honestly, Adam wasn't too worried. He picked this forest because it was in the middle of nowhere. All the freedom he could want. Smiling, he let his true angelic form out, and he soon was a large gold dragon with viscous-looking teeth. Bits of earthy tones were mixed into his scales.

Adam spread his powerful wings and took to the skies. The wind rushed beneath him, lifting him higher as he soared above the forest canopy. Below, the trees danced in the gentle breeze, their red leaves whispering secrets of the demon creatures below. Adam loved this feeling of freedom, the exhilaration of flight as he surveyed Hell's domain.

As he glided through the air, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Curious, Adam descended toward the source—a medium-sized red and white-winged dragon looking up at him. Adam sneered at the animal, Sera's words echoing in his mind, and turned away to fly off. This was a Hellborn. Attacking it was something he shouldn't be doing since it could jeopardize the Heaven and Hell treaty.

He was not prepared for what happened next.

The dragon pounced on his back and Adam screeched out, "What the hell?!" As he stumbled to the ground. Adam opened gold furious eyes, glaring at the dumb animal. If animals could look smug, that thing would certainly would be.

"Get off!" Adam tried bucking him off, his wings flapping to get the surprisingly heavy animal off his back. The stupid dragon seemed to have taken this as a sign for play because soon they were tumbling on the ground, trying to pin each other down. As they fought, Adam noticed that the thing had six eyes. Six...familiar-looking eyes that Adam couldn't quite place.

Adam huffed and snapped at the thing. He clutched him around the middle with his massive jaws and swung him around into a tree. The thing bounced and hit his head on a branch. Adam thought that would be the end and he could finally leave this forest. Find somewhere else to spread his wings.

He was about to take off when a strangled cry made him stop. Adam didn't know why he stopped but he did turn around when he heard the same screech. The dragon had scratches all over his face, black blood seeping out as he tried to stop the pain.

Adam sighed. Was he seriously going to do this? The much larger dragon stomped back to the smaller dragon and huffed. "You started this. Shouldn't have fought me." The dragon only whined pathetically. Adam growled and huffed but brought the dragon closer. "Just...just need a little here..."

The dragon stopped whining when Adam healed him. "There. Now stop whining...you're really warm." Adam said absent-mindedly. He sniffed the dragon but was not expecting the little guy to crawl up his back again and curl around his neck.

Adam would have fought it. He should have torn that thing to shreds and left it to die for trying to mess with Adam. Instead, he let out a loud purr that rang through the air and the surrounding forest.

"Get...off," Adam said in between his purring but the little dragon seemed to produce more heat, making Adam tired. When was the last time he was this warm? Heaven was always on the cold side. He wanted this warmth and Adam's angelic dragon was practically taking the wheel now.

"Fine. Just...a few hours..." Adam grumbled before he fell asleep, surrounded by that warmth. The little dragon chuckled once he knew that Adam was asleep.

"Well, it's been a while, hasn't it? My, what a pretty form you have!" He whispered, careful not to stop his warm temperature as Adam slept. Claws glided over sensitive scales. Lucifer had been posing as a dragon and it was just lucky timing that Adam stumbled onto him.

Now, Lucifer had always known that Adam's angelic form he presented whenever they met wasn't real. He had no idea why the man would hide something like that, but in all honesty, Lucifer didn't care. Now, he can see why.

Dragons were something he and Lucifer had discussed for hours. It was one of the many things that never made it into Eden. Adam, seeing how sad Lucifer was at yet another idea being rejected, started to name animals after the dragon. Bearded Dragon, Komodo Dragon, and a few others.

Lucifer was touched, and still was, that Adam would do all that to keep his idea alive. But wasn't this adorable? Adam's angelic body was that of a dragon. A magnificent one at that.

Adam must be coming down here so Heaven wouldn't see him as a dragon. Lucifer wasn't a fool. A form like this would have the Higher Choir in a panic. Someone would have to have convinced Adam to hide it. Eventually, Adam would have gone stir crazy and the rest was history.

"This is going to be a lot of fun...." It had been a while since Lucifer had someone to play with.

[b4si1wh0]

Trailer thoughts!

Hello TARDIS being dragged by a helicopter again! Hello grumpy cat Doctor!

Moment of realisation?

Is this where they meet each other again? I'm dying please help me.

Must you remind us? I'm still heartbroken.

HIIII! WHO ARE YOU???

So this is the same place as Donna holding the... art supplies(?). So this is when he meets Rose? Also HI ROSE!

BeEP the mEEP im so happy! Miriam Margoyles lesbian icon!!

WHAT THE HELL is tHAT!

theres a martian! theres a martin! (old donna: doctor = martian, now: beep the meep = martian, therefore: doctor = beep the meep)

I can't believe that im saying this but I can't wait to see her again.

meep meep?

get slapped idiot!

haha its a rite of passage now.

theyre together but the tardis ran away but theyre together but theyre together but theyre together but theyre together

KICK ItS ARSE!

He's smiling! Wow! This is a first! 2. Its acutally just Kate Stewart. She dropped the Lethbridge. She didn't want any favours.

looking fine as always maam.

Celestial Toymaker! My top ten Classic Who villains! He's amazing! He's entertaining! He's Neil Patrick Harris!

such extreme anger can only mean one thing - regenerating again?

extreme anger part 2

extreme anger part 3. wow hes really not happy-

shut up shut up shut up screaming crying shaking throwing up murder murder murder

DONT YOU DARE HURT DONNA *morphs into feral creature* I WILL PROTECT HER AT ALL COSTS I CANNOT GO THROUGH IT AGAIN

HIHIHIHIHI! ily already im your biggest fan.

[moonselune]

Aasimar lover of karlach learning what her fate will be and just goes all doom eternal on everything in the hells till they give them s permanent cure for her. If karlach is going down the they're all get to join her unless they fix it

Oof this one hit me in the feels whilst writing it, great request!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach x Aasimar!reader| Hell hath no fury like an Aasimar scorned

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The revelation hit you like a sledgehammer. The infernal engine within Karlach, your fierce and beloved partner, was a ticking time bomb. Its ceaseless, hellish fire threatened to consume her from the inside out - to take her from you. As she lay in your arms, sputtering and burning out right before you, the once small spark of hope that there might be a cure, snuffed out.

This left behind only the cold, harsh truth of her fate. Desperation turned to resolve, as you blessed with celestial power, made a vow: if the Hells wanted to claim Karlach, they would have to go through you first. That or you were going to make sure they went down with her.

You kissed the top of her head, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she passed in and out of consciousness. You nodded to your companions and told them to stay by her side, you would be back as soon as possible.

Your wings unfurled, glowing with a divine light as you descended into the Hells. The infernal landscape writhed with demonic energy, but you moved with a singular purpose, your heart burning with an unyielding determination. Karlach’s time was running out, and you were ready to bring the fury of Heaven down upon the Hells to save her.

The first wave of demons fell before you like wheat to a scythe. Your sword, imbued with celestial fire, cleaved through their ranks with an unrelenting fury. You fought with a ferocity that bordered on madness, driven by love and the looming threat of losing Karlach forever. The ground beneath you cracked and smoldered as you tore through the infernal hordes, each swing of your blade a promise of wrath and redemption. If it weren't for the circumstances you would realise that you had never felt more alive.

Word of your rampage spread quickly through the Hells. The very air seemed to tremble with the power of your wrath. Lesser demons fled at the mere sight of you, while the more foolish ones who stood their ground were quickly dispatched. Your path led you to the citadel of Zariel, the archdevil who had once been an angel of mercy before her fall from grace. She was the key to Karlach’s salvation, and you would tear her throne apart to save your beloved. Zariel met you at the gates of her fortress, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and amusement.

"Vile Aasimar," she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "You dare bring your righteous fury into my domain?"

"You know why I’m here, Zariel," you replied, your voice steady despite the rage boiling within you. "Karlach deserves a chance to live without the curse of that infernal engine. If you won’t help her, then I’ll tear down your entire realm until you do."

Zariel laughed, a sound devoid of humor. "You think you can threaten me in my own domain? You are nothing but a fool."

"I am the fool? Look at you, cowering in your palace as I butcher your hordes like pigs up for slaughter." You spat, blood dripping from your armor, "You can send more, I dare you to, but when word gets round that you lost your army to me over one of your escaped soldiers, they will see you for what you truly are, for what I see you as. Pathetic."

You dragged your blade against the infernal ground and it sparked up as it scraped, imp wing and cambion blood covering it. "Give me the cure, Zariel. Release Karlach from this torment, or I will return and finish what I started. I will return with Selûne's daughter also and we will purge your land."

With a grudging nod, Zariel relented and she conjured a vial of radiant liquid, the cure for the infernal engine that threatened Karlach’s life. You snatched it from her grasp, your eyes burning with a mix of triumph and exhaustion.

With that you unfurled your wings once more and you returned to Karlach's side. She looked at you with a mixture of awe and relief as you approached, the vial clutched tightly in your hand. She was weak, her head resting in Shadowheart's lap as she kept her from the edge of death. You could tell she did not have long left.

"I got it," you said, your voice breaking with emotion. "You’re going to be okay, my love."

As you administered the cure, you watched the torment in her eyes fade, replaced by a warmth that mirrored your own. She pulled you into a fierce embrace, your strong arms holding her close. Karlach cared not for the viscera you were covered in and clung to you.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with tears. You held her tightly, your heart swelling with love and relief and your pressed numerous kisses to her temple.

"I could not bear to live this life without you, my love" you replied, your voice filled with unwavering resolve. "I’ll always fight for you, my love Karlach. Always."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Did unspecified Aasimar so more people could interpret it, hope you liked it ! - Seluney xoxo

[scoobydoodean]

just saw somebody saying that cas is a pushover for dean…. obviously that’s not true. but can i have some solid evidence just to make me feel more sane?

I mean Cas's baseline state is ignoring what anyone wants him to do imo. It's just when he ignores what most people want him to do, he makes this face: 🙄

And when he ignores what Dean wants him to do, he makes this this face. 🥺

But anyway:

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." (4.02)

ANNA: "Uhm, guys, the angels are talking again. / SAM: What are they saying? / ANNA: It's weird. Like a recording. A loop. It says: "Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or we hurl him back to damnation." (4.10)

"[I tricked you into coming into town] Because whatever I ask [for you to turn an innocent person over to me for execution], you seem to do the exact opposite [protect them from me]." (4.15)

After kidnapping Dean to make him torture for them: "This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it." (4.16)

[Kidnaps Dean and locks him up] (4.22)

[Flies away abruptly because Dean asks a question he doesn't want to answer] (5.01)

"I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world—and I lost everything, for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself." (5.02) (Note: Cas blaming Dean for everything going wrong here is also some major bullshit).

CASTIEL: May I borrow [your amulet]? / DEAN: No. / CASTIEL: Dean. Give it to me. / DEAN: All right, I guess. (5.02)

Cas flies off to kill Jesse when Dean and Sam are in direct moral opposition. (5.06)

ANNA: I'd say the Winchesters don't trust me. / CASTIEL: They do. I don't. I wouldn't let them come. (5.13)

You're not gonna finish that? [Takes Dean's burger without waiting for an answer] (5.14)

[Kidnaps Dean and locks him up] (5.18)

"Maybe they're desperate. Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them." (5.18)

[Beats the shit out of Dean in an alley] "I rebelled for this?! So that you could surrender to them?" [kidnaps Dean and locks him up again] (5.18)

DEAN: Whoa, wait. You’re gonna take on five angels? / CASTIEL: Yes. / DEAN: Isn’t that suicide? / CASTIEL: Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail. 

CASTIEL: You think I came because you called? I came because of this. [The Staff of Moses] / DEAN: Oh, well, it's nice to know what matters. / CASTIEL: It does help one to focus. (6.03)

CASTIEL: I need your help. / SAM: [ Scoffs. ] That's rich. Really. / CASTIEL: [ Grunts, tosses the jar of locusts at SAM. CASTIEL performs air quotes during this speech. ] Sam, Dean, my "people skills" are "rusty." Pardon me, but I have spent the last "year" as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. But believe me, you do not want that weapon down here. Help me find it. Or more people will die.

[Flies away abruptly when Dean asks anything he doesn't want to answer] (6.03)

Cas tortures a child while Dean pleads with him not to do it (6.03).

[Yanks Dean's wrist over without asking and slices his palm open to use his blood for a spell] DEAN: Whoa, whoa! Hey! Ahh! Why don't you use your own? / CASTIEL: It wouldn't work. I'm not human.

[Flies away abruptly when Dean is mid-sentence] (6.06)

Cas ghosts Dean for days while Dean pleads for help in prayers (6.05-6.06)

Those are some moments of note up to my current rewatch episode.

Less organized but past current rewatch point some random momence:

The entire plot of season 6 where Cas is going behind their backs the whole time culminating in him refusing to let go of his plan while Dean pleads him to do just that.

Fun lil Deancas bitchy compilation set here

[Beats the shit out of Dean flies away with the angel tablet]

Refuses to come out of Purgatory

Ignores Dean's nightly prayers in Purgatory

Ignores Dean's prayers and calls all of the tiiiiiiiime sometimes for weeks

Locking Dean in the dungeon... again. (S9)

DEAN: I'm glad you're here / CAS: *Leaves* (10.03)

Keeping Demon Dean from doing demon things :(((( (10.03)

Works with Sam to decode the Book of the Damned behind Dean's back.

CAS: No fighting. / DEAN: Tell [Claire] that. / CAS: Both of you.

"YEAH you know what I like about him? It's that he's sarcastic, but he's THOUGHTFUL and APPRECIATIVE too."

"If I plan to do anything else stupid, I'll let you know."

CAS: So I should just sit here? / DEAN: Pretty much. / CAS: NO.

[Look of utter loathing] "Dean. You are NOT a talking dog." (13.16)

"At least I don't look like a lumberjack."

Steals The Colt to kill Kelly Kline when Sam and Dean want to save her -> Does a 180 into wanting to protect Kelly and still won't include Sam and Dean, instead knocking them unconscious (12.19)

Locks Sam and Dean out of the dungeon so he can torture Donatello for information (13.14)

Also: #hot girl cas. And anyway, if Cas decreases his bitchy basline tendencies to be bitchy around Dean and Dean only, and instead indulges him occasionally by doing things like dressing up like cowboys, we should be fond of this because the angel the size of a Chrysler building who has killed thousands lets Dean put him in little outfits to make him happy and there is something very cute about that.