#the goddess has told me i must

[britishmindslave]

FFVII AU where Sephiroth is Genesis and Angeal's marriage counselor.

Genesis is a wildly famous actor and singer who has some issues keeping faithful. Angeal is a very busy Police Chief who has a hard time coming home on time due to his workload.

The two clearly love each other, but are having marital issues and are looking to counseling to correct the others' behavior.

Enter Sephiroth, incredibly successful counselor due to his emotional detachment from the entire human race. Genesis wants to sleep with him, Seph catches feelings for Angeal.

The love triangle. The drama.

[3d-wifey]

This is such a niche ask, but I saw that you do Mortal Kombat. Can I ask for some flirty intro dialogue? You know like the conversation the characters have b4 the fight? But like with a Goddess!reader who's basically Hecate? like a Nyx/Hecate fusion if that makes sense. Oh and can you do what some of her taunts would be? I feel like those and her fatalities would be illusion and tarot based :)))

Flirty Intro Dialogue

Pairings: Johnny Cage x Reader; Noob Saibot x Reader; Erron Black x Reader; Dark Raiden x Reader; Cassie Cage x Reader; Shang Tsung x Reader

A/N: (Back to using gifs for headcanons). This is just for the MK 11 timeline. Once MK 1 comes out, I'll do new ones. Had to do a little research fan fiction-wise for this one, but I got a good amount out (plus some taunts the reader would say during the fight). I put a lot of thought into the reader's backstory in the MK universe, even though it'll never be used lol. Please, feel free to request more of these characters or some intros for different characters. Maybe even request a one-shot? Who knows ;)

Behind the Scenes: You know how when Erron Black shows up in the intro, he's looking at a Wanted poster of his opponent? I feel like Goddess!reader has something like that where she's looking at a tarot card that's different for each character before it disappears into mist. Another opening is the reader strutting in shapeshifted into her opponent, before turning back. Her friendship fatality has her stirring a comically large witch's caldron and Noob Saibot pops out in a cloud of mist.

You: Jonathan Carlton

Johnny Cage: Sexy witch goddess.

You: I…Hmm.

-

You: I can feel the magic coursing through your veins. You are one of my Night children, Jonathan.

Johnny Cage: You don’t mean that literally, right? Because it would suck to have the hots for my mom.

You: (sighs)  And what a waste.

-

Johnny Cage: Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming.

You: Do you dream of me often, Mortal?

Johnny Cage: Ohho, absolutely.

-

Johnny Cage: Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming.

You: (sighs) How many times must you make that joke?

Johnny Cage: You know you love it!

-

Johnny Cage: So…what are my chances of getting you into my next movie?

You: I’ve told you. I have no desire to appear on your “big screen”.

Johnny Cage: I was thinking we’d make a different kind of movie.

-

Johnny Cage: Goddess of dreams, huh? Can I call you Sandman?

You: You may call me whatever you please, dear mortal.

Johnny Cage: Oh, you do not wanna give me that kind of power.

-

Johnny Cage: Heard you and Shinnok had a thing.

You: A…thing?

Johnny Cage: You two boned! Get it? Cuz he’s a skeleton.

-

Johnny Cage: Tarot, huh? Card tricks are cool and all, but do you got any other witchy gimmicks?

You: I'm particularly fond of palm reading.

Johnny Cage: ...So what I'm hearing is, you're good with your hands?

-

Johnny Cage: You, Fujin, and Raiden go way back, huh?

You: Since the dawn of time.

Johnny Cage: (grimace) Yeesh, they've been friend zoned that long?

-

Johnny Cage: Not so fast, Hermonie.

You: Must you always spout such inane drivel?

Johnny Cage: Someone's been using their word-a-day calendar!

-

Johnny Cage: I've never met a non-evil Eldar God.

You: Evil is quite subjective.

Johnny Cage: I'll remember that next time I'm kicking one's ass.

Noob Saibot: My Goddess.

You: Bi-Han.

Noob Saibot: The shadows cling to your presence. 

-

Noob Saibot: Many have wanted me to yield to their command.

You: Oh?

Noob Saibot: Only you have succeeded, My Goddess.

-

You: You are not touched by the Night, dear Bi-Han. You are shrouded in it.

Noob Saibot: What better way to show that I belong to you?

You: It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it?

-

Noob Saibot: The shadows whisper your name.

You: (smiles) What do they say about me?

Noob Saibot: That your beauty is combated by no other. They speak only the truth for their Goddess.

-

You: You have been a steadfast worshiper, Bi-Han. How shall I reward your loyalty?

Noob Saibot: I only ask for one thing: to be your consort.

You: Hmm. That could be arranged.

-

Noob Saibot: I do not want you to be upset with me, but I will not take back what I said.

You: Your brother cares for you, Bi-Han.

Noob Saibot: Yet, here we are.

-

You: Why must we fight?

Noob Saibot: I wish to prove to you my might, My Goddess.

You: Oh, dear wraith. For you, my love is freely given. You have already earned it.

-

Noob Saibot: You're different than the other Eldar Gods. You...care.

You: Do you think me weak?

Noob Saibot: Never.

-

You: Care to spar?

Noob Saibot: I'd be honored.

You: Then don't take it personally when I beat you.

-

Noob Saibot: The shadows crave your touch.

You: Only the shadows?

Noob Saibot: I'll always long for you, My Goddess.

-

You: Do you fear me, dear Bi-Han?

Noob Saibot: I respect you.

You: (sigh) That wasn't a no.

Erron Black: You've got quite the pretty penny on your head.

You: Are you here to kill me then, Erron Black?

Erron Black: With a face like that, I wouldn’t dream of it.

-

Erron Black: You got any love spells up your sleeve, witchy? I swear ’m good for it.

You: Love is not something to take lightly. Who do you have in mind?

Erron Black: (smirks)  Look in a mirror, darlin’. 

-

Erron Black: You the Goddess of lust, by any chance?

You: That is not a purpose I was created to serve.

Erron Black: Pity. You’d certainly suit it.

-

Erron Black: You had something to ask me, beautiful?

You: Yes. What is “reverse cowgirl”?

Erron Black: (smirks) How ‘bout I show you the ins and outs after this?

-

Erron Black: ’M not usually one for marriage, darlin’.

You: Neither am I.

Erron Black: I don’t have to be the only one, as long as I’m your favorite.

-

Erron Black: You ever find out why Shinnok offed you?

You: I believe he wanted to turn me into his revenant bride. He became rather desperate after I declined his proposal.

Erron Black: (chuckle) Well, I guess I can’t blame the guy.

-

Erron Black: Why don’t you take a peek into ol’ Erron’s dreams? Swear you won’t be disappointed.

You: I’ve seen your dreams. I must say, you give me very generous proportions.

Erron Black: Then you must know I’m a very generous lover.

-

Erron Black: I've struck gold

You: How so?

Erron Black: Well, you're here, ain'tcha?

-

Erron Black: You cast a spell on me, Goddess?

You: I have not, Erron Black.

Erron Black: Do you want to?

-

Erron Black: How 'bout you and I see where the night takes us?

You: Do you think you can keep up?

Erron Black: Trust me. I may be fast on the quick draw, but I don't shoot quick.

-

Erron Black: You've got the magic touch.

You: A good deal of my powers flow through my hands.

Erron Black: I want 'em on me.

You: I’ve heard of how you…disposed of Shinnok.

Dark Raiden: After what he did to you, after how I mourned, I would behead him a hundred times over.

You: It isn’t judgment you sense in my voice. I would have killed him myself if you hadn’t beat me to it.

-

You: Do you still desire me, even as you are now?

Dark Raiden: If you need to ask, then I have failed to show you my devotion.

You: Hmph.

-

Dark Raiden: Will you abandon me too, my love?

You: It is not in my nature.

Dark Raiden: They do not deserve your blessings.

-

Dark Raiden: How have you…How are you here?

You: I sensed my presence was needed and returned to my corporal form just in time to be put in Kronika's void.

Dark Raiden: You could not sense how much I needed you, how much I mourned?

-

You: We are in such uncertain times, my vision is clouded.

Dark Raiden: I’m sorry for the part I play in your duress, my love.

You: You are only doing your duty. It’s how you’re going about it that leaves me weary.

-

Dark Raiden: How can you find such beauty in their shortcomings?

You: The Night welcomes all into her shadowed embrace.

Dark Raiden: You are wasted on them!

-

Dark Raiden: I was so lost without your guidance.

You: When I died?

Dark Raiden: When you were taken from me!

-

Dark Radien: How did Shinnok do it?

You: He lied to me and attacked me when I let my guard down.

Dark Raiden: (growls) If I could, I would bring him back to enact justice upon him once more.

-

You: I have but one wish.

Dark Raiden: Anything.

You: I wish for you to come back to me.

-

You: Is it true? What you've done?

Dark Radien: It was the only way.

You: You have lost yourself.

-

You: We've never fought before, have we?

Dark Radien: We never needed to for me to know you're the stronger between us.

You: Flattery will not save you.

Cassie Cage: You know, I think I’m finally understanding why Raiden lost his marbles.

You: How so?

Cassie Cage: I think I’d lose my shit too if someone like you was taken from me.

-

Cassie Cage: Are you a good witch or a bad witch?

You: I’m…afraid I do not understand.

Cassie Cage: Oh, you have got to let me take you on a movie date.

-

Cassie Cage: Who’s your favorite: Fujin or Raiden? Come on. You can tell me.

You: I’m a Goddess. Why would I limit myself to one lover?

Cassie Cage: You dirty girl.

-

Cassie Cage: What are you the Goddess of again?

You: (hesitates) …It would be easier to list what I am not the Goddess of.

Cassie Cage: (whistles) And I thought my parents expected a lot of me.

-

Cassie Cage: Come on, just one kiss!

You: I am older than you could possibly imagine.

Cassie Cage: An older woman. What’s not to love?

-

Cassie Cage: I heard you died. So, how are you standing here in all your godly beauty?

You: I have much power over death and the comings and goings of the Underworld. My soul simply dispersed there.

Cassie Cage: Yep. That’ll do it.

-

Cassie Cage: So…You didn’t happen to see that one dream, did you?

You: I’ve seen all your dreams, Cassandra. And I’m flattered.

Cassie Cage: (clears throat) …Right.

-

Cassie Cage: It’s a full moon

You: She calls to me and all who feel her light.

Cassie Cage:…You’re not gonna turn into a werewolf, are you?

-

Cassie Cage: You gonna turn me into a frog, Goddess?

You: It’s a possibility.

Cassie Cage: (shrugs) As long as you change me back with a kiss.

-

Cassie Cage: Heard you hung out with Jacqui.

You: Yes, though she didn’t mention you at all.

Cassie Cage: She is the worst wing woman.

-

You: You’ve come to my crossroads. Do you need my guidance?

Cassie Cage: Just wondering if you could teach me a trick or two.

You: So it’s my protection you seek.

Shang Tsung: Your beauty entices me

You: My power entices you.

Shang Tsung: Two things can be true at once.

-

Shang Tsung: Soon, you shall be my bride.

You: You cannot tie down a Goddess; you cannot tie down the Night.

Shang Tsung: I can try.

-

Shang Tsung: Do my powers impress you, Goddess of magic?

You: They certainly intrigue me, Sorcerer.

Shang Tsung: Allow me to give you a closer look.

-

Shang Tsung: Every time I invoke my magic, I do so in your name.

You: Your loyalty changes with the moon’s phases.

Shang Tsung: I devote myself to you, my Goddess.

-

Shang Tsung: I want something more valuable than your soul.

You: Such as?

Shang Tsung: Your love.

-

Shang Tsung: You forgave Shinnok, but not I?

You: I did not forgive him. He killed me when I refused to be his bride.

Shang Tsung: I will succeed where he has failed.

-

Shang Tsung: I kneel at your altar, my Goddess.

You: You needn’t prostrate yourself before me.

Shang Tsung: It is never a hardship to be on my knees for you.

-

You: Do you fear me?

Shang Tsung: I’d be a fool not to.

You: Then why challenge me?

-

Shang Tsung: You have the godly brothers on quite a tight leash.

You: I demand no loyalty from them.

Shang Tsung: It’s doubtful that they stray far from you.

-

You: Kronika spared me in hopes of using my powers. When I refused, she cast me into the void.

Shang Tsung: We have been similarly wronged by her.

You: That is why we must aid Luai Kang in defeating her.

-

Shang Tsung: You are the last Eldar God.

You: Yes. And I shall help Luai Kang in his creation of the new timeline.

Shang Tsung: Then this will be goodbye for now.

Taunts

You: The Wheel of Fortune comes for us all. You: Your future is uncertain. You: You cannot hide from the Night’s embrace. You: Knell in repentance. You: Your path ends here. You: You are lost. You: It is simply an illusion. You: You challenge an Eldar God? You: Will you make an offering? You: You are forgiven. You: I will lead your spirit through the gates of the Netherrealm. You: You shall not pass. You: Are you seeing double? You: Allow me to guide you.

[wonderlandwalker]

First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner. (read part 2 here) Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n Word Count: 1.4k A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it

“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.

“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.

“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.

“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.

“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it. 

The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.

“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”

“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.

As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.

“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.

“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.

Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out

“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.

“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition. 

He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely

“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.

“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.

“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand 

“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.

Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold. 

“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.

“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.

“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking

“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.

“I’d love to.” 

“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.

“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence. 

“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.

[part 2 here]

[saphirafoxgirlspost1]

(Open Rp) Helluvaboss X Hazbinhotel in "Suitors Delima"

(Warning, this contains NSFW, Muscle growth, transformation, Ect. If your a Minor please don't reply to this..Viewer disgression is advised)

On the Glorious day At the Kingdom of The Mystic Inferno Fox, The Last Suitor was Kicked Out from the Kingdom..as the guard told the bad Suitor that he's no longer set foot in this castle again…Saphira The True Ruler of hell was Standing there watching the Bad Suitor walks away all beat up and torn..Saphira was Quite Stern..the reason why he was beat it..He Dared to lay a horrible Hands On Her which is a Huge Mistake..But Luckily..He Kept his hands though..otherwise his hands will be chopped off Sooner.. Then Saphira goes back to her throne..rubbing her Forehead with fustration and growls…Knowing that She wouldn't allow Abuse In this hell..then Her Goetia Royal Advisor (which she is a Snowy Owl) Name "Eliza" Comes to her..and she said with a warm concerning tone,

Eliza: "Oh dear Friend, I knew This Suitors is nothing but trouble.. and I don't blame you for Banishing him For Daring to lay hands on you..Luckily He kept his hands as well."

Saphira: "Indeed, Other wise..he'll be left with no hands at all. heh"

Saphira Use her magic to spawn a wine glass full of greatest wine in hell and took a sip of it..but then Eliza said,

Eliza:"So..What Shall we do? You must find Someone who is worthy for your hands as well Your Majesty.."

Saph:" I know..but many suitors of Hell was not Worthy..they're Beyond redemtion as well…Maybe I should go Up to the Mortal World..luckily..I live in the Nice Mansion but I need to blend in So that way the Humans Doesn't Know That I'm the Kitsune that has the Royal Mistical Blood.."

Eliza: "I agree..this is the Only way To Find Someone To marry you and I meant Someone Who is Worthy For your Hand Your Majesty."

Saphira Nodded and Use Her Spells to transport herself and Eliza To the Mortal World..inside of her Beautiful Luxurious Mansion..Eliza in human Form..She has White hair and Yellow Diamond eyes..and Saphira in human form is White hair and Blue Sapphire eyes as she dressed so Lovely and elegant clothes. In the Mortal World, Saphira is Super famous that she OutShine Verosika for a famous concerts, Musics, Modeling, especially Movie and Tv star itself as well…and also She owns her company called "Fire Fox co."…So Now..saphira smiles and said,

Saph:"It is good to be back on top, Sighs best things ever.."

She smiles but faded and said,

Saph:"I pray to inari if I ever find someone, I hope He'll treat me Like a queen..or a goddess more or less.."

Eliza: "Of course Dear, Don't worry There's alot of good man out there waiting for you..you'll see"

So Saphira Nodded knowing that Eliza's Reassuring her, Knowing that There's a Hope that someone who would love her…But..There's someone Who is a Scientist and He Always..and Mean Always was Obsessed with her so much that he will Do anything to win her heart, So he Decided to make a Potion which will make him More Hotter and Seductive as ever But Little Does he Knows That the potion will cause him to have a Split Personality Like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde…Meanwhile Saphira was Riding a Limo With Eliza who is now To humans It's Her Assistant Manager as She head to the Company For Modeling…So During the modeling..She hears the knocking and said," OH! Come in, come in…Lets see who was it?" Then the Door Opens When she sees Her Old good nerdy friend and she said"OH! My good Darling friend! How have you been!?" She got up and Hugs him and then he said…

[arminsumi]

Hey! Could I request a soft fluffy Gojo where he finds out reader is pregnant and he’s over the moon excited and can barely contain himself? Seeing the Gojo crumbs got me feeling all soft for him.

PREGNANT

★ Note : ah i savored the gojo crumbs!! 🥹💗 missing that pineapple head sm.

★ Warnings : some suggestive jokes

"Sooo... I bought you a pregnancy test."

You laugh at him like he's being ridiculous, like this is a total over-reaction to you having just one instance of morning nausea that didn't even last very long.

Satoru has some weird sixth sense when it comes to you. If you're not feeling well, he knows it before you even say anything. Like this morning, when you sat up in bed in a strange way, he blinked awake and mumbled "Baby, what is it?" knowing in his chest you must feel sick. And sure enough, you were sick.

Albeit not for long — Satoru still soothed your back with his hands and gave you a thorough massage until the nausea went away.

He joked, "Are you pregnant?" while he massaged you. But that weird sixth sense told him that you were really pregnant.

After your nausea subsided, he went out to buy you every necessity he could think of. You know, pads and tampons of all sizes because he has no idea which one you actually prefer and he also has no idea why there are so many variations. So he dumped a pile of period necessities on your desk and you laughed at how he did it.

Then he unexpectedly whipped out a pregnancy test package and tapped you lightly on the shoulder with it.

"Satoru, I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant."

"But I feel like you are." he replies suspiciously. "I mean look at you... you're glowin' like a goddess. C'mon, just take the test."

"Okay, fine — but I'm telling you, I don't feel pregnant."

You took the pregnancy test and rolled your eyes while waiting. Satoru waited outside the bathroom like an excited puppy and nearly pawed at the door to be let in, but you absolutely refused to let him watch you pee on the pregnancy test.

So he spoke through the bathroom door;

"Sooo are you pregnant or do I have to take you back to the bedroom and make your eyes roll back again?"

You laughed.

"Satoru, you don't need to take me back to the bedroom for me to roll my eyes at you."

You stared down at the pregnancy test.

| |

Oh.

You opened the door of the bathroom.

When you hand him the positive test, Satoru blanks. Then his eyes light up like you've never seen them light up before.

His jaw slacks and he doesn't have any words.

You think he's frozen in place but then suddenly he reanimates himself and attacks you with kisses.

"Babyyy!" his voice cracks with excitement.

He levels his face with your tummy and hugs it, then speaks to it;

"Hey, kid. You better have your mommy's eyes."

"Satoru, you're ridiculous." you chuckle.

Satoru keeps kissing your tummy, nuzzling and hugging it. He cries a little after the initial excitement calms down. In fact he sobs. He clings to your stomach, arms wrapped tightly around it. All his attention is plastered on you and your tummy.

He calls Suguru and Shoko and Nanami in a video call and judging by the tone of his texts (VIDEO CALL NOW. IMMINENT.) they assume something dire has happened.

And then Satoru just says;

"We're pregnant."

"We?!"

Suguru hears you yell through the phone and laughs.

Nanami sighs, "Satoru, I thought something bad happened, you idiot. Congratulations."

"Mhm!" Satoru ignores Nanami's scolding and absorbs the 'congratulations' like a proud to-be father.

"I'm gonna be a dad." he keeps saying this over and over until it even gets on your nerves, so you pop into the video call to shut up your stupid husband which makes the others howl with laughter. Satoru just happily lets you shut him up, he knows he's being an obnoxious idiot. He can't help it, he's over-excited.

He is so smug about it. But underlining that smugness you see pure excitement, real true joy that Satoru can't fully express except through subtle things.

He koala-hugs his arms around your tummy and clings to you.

On the video call, everyone sees how Satoru looks at you; he has that lovey-dovey euphoric smile stuck on his face.

"Satoru, you're glowing. Are you pregnant, too?" Shoko jokes.

— ★

Later that night, Satoru rests his head on your stomach while the two of you are laid in bed.

The initial goofiness and excitement has calmed down, and he's gone silent like he's brooding.

"Do you think I'll be a good dad?" he asks seriously. He experiences a small voice crack.

Waiting for your answer makes him nervous. He fiddles with the hem of your pajamas.

"Satoru, you're going to be the best dad." you respond.

His lips curl and he begins smiling to himself and cuddling your tummy more. It's one of those rare smiles that he feels too shy to show you. Reminds you of how he used to smile at you when you flustered him in college, when he was a love sick puppy for you.

Of course, he breaks the moment with a stupid joke; "I think you moaning "daddy! daddy!" worked magic."

"Satoru!" you have to scoldingly smack him on the head with your book.

He just giggles cheekily and crawls up to snuggle your chest.

— ★

For the following week, you catch Satoru scrolling through lists of online baby names, and beaming to his students that he's gonna be a dad. Boasting as much as he possibly can to every available ear.

When he tells anyone about you being pregnant, he phrases it very carefully; "She's going to be the mother of my children." he says proudly, chin lifted a bit, smug smirk on his face that even you want to slap off.

Yeah he's so smug and annoying. Anyways, he cries when he stares at the ultrasound.

He keeps it in his wallet. He shows it to everyone. He looks at it while he's in his office at Jujutsu High.

Seeing your tummy get rounder and fuller turns Satoru into a softer man.

— ★

Satoru always greets your tummy like the baby can hear him. He talks to it every night as if he's helping Littler Gojo fall asleep, but actually his voice is putting you to sleep.

He comes up to you, cooing carefully in case you're having a mood swing, and squishes his cheek to your tummy.

And when you come out of the bedroom in the mornings looking your roughest, Satoru smiles wide and says without fail every time;

"Oh there's my mama goddess, how'd you sleep with Little Gojo's kung fu last night?"

When the baby kicks, he's always got some funny response;

"Hey, I'm the Strongest, kid."

"Don't kick. Be nice to mommy's tummy."

"Damn, this kid's trynna beat up his dad's pretty face!"

"Wow, you're gonna be a martial artist I just know it."

In fact, talking to your tummy is something Satoru loves the most.

When he gets home from a tiring day at work, he kisses you hard and then lowers himself onto his knees and greets your tummy.

"Hey kid, how's it going in there? Gettin' stronger? Good. Good. Hey I heard that! Don't talk back to me. Gosh, you're already gettin' rebellious."

"Satoru... what are you doing?"

"Talking to our baby." he replies innocently. "She's very intelligent. Just like her mommy."

"Oh is that so? I like that. She'll be as smart as mommy and as strong as daddy."

His cheeks go a bit pink.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[harunayuuka2060]

Twst Unveil Event: The goddess of love's blessing Part 3

Yuurin: *has been called to the headmage's office*

Crowley: Yuurin, your classmates have lodged complaints about hearing voices that appear to be criticizing them.

Yuurin: ...

The voices:

'This one has an ugly voice.'

'This one looks lazy.'

'This one will surely cheat.'

'Cross them all out from the list!'

Yuurin: Yes.

Crowley: This can't go on. The morale of the students are dropping because of this.

Yuurin: Headmage, I apologize for the disturbance caused by the voices. I kindly request your patience in handling this matter.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: You're one of my best students so I will let this slide.

Crowley: Nevertheless, I will grant you until next week to address this issue.

Epel: So you have until next week to find yourself a boyfriend.

Yuurin: Yes.

Epel: Can't you just choose someone you know? Someone to pretend to be in love with you?

The voices: ATROCIOUS!

Epel: !!!

Yuurin: Yes. It's extremely unacceptable.

Epel: O-Oh... What are you going to do now?

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Am I allowed to recommend candidates myself?

The voices: Yes.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Then...

Floyd: Damselfish?

Yuurin: Hello, Floyd-senpai.

Floyd: ...

Floyd: *smiles* You look gorgeous today~ What happened?

Yuurin: It's a long story.

Floyd: Hm... Okay~. So~ Is there something I can help you with, damselfish~?

Yuurin: I'm here to ask you a question, Floyd-senpai.

Floyd: Ask right away~.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: Will you be my husband?

Floyd: ...

Floyd: Sorry, damselfish. But I'm still too young for that. *smiles genuinely*

Yuurin: *smiles, satisfied with his answer*

Yuurin: Thank you for your honesty, Floyd-senpai.

Floyd: But I feel bad for rejecting you~.

Yuurin: No, I'm fine. I'll be on my way.

Floyd: Good luck finding a husband~.

Yuurin: *nods then leaves Octavinelle*

Azul: *approaches Floyd, seems to be in a rush*

Azul: Floyd, did Yuurin come here?

Floyd: Yeah. He was here a few seconds ago. Why?

Azul: Did you offer him a room to stay in?

Floyd: No?

Azul: ...

Azul: Floyd, I asked you to offer him a room.

Floyd: Eh, I forgot.

Azul: You little—

Kalim and Jamil: ...

Yuurin: *has asked Kalim the same question*

Kalim: Yuurin, you're a good guy, but um... I'm not ready for marriage yet.

Yuurin: That's fine, Kalim-senpai.

Kalim: Are you sure?

Yuurin: Yes.

Jamil: ...

Jamil: He doesn't seem offended at all. Could it be...

Jamil: He's expecting to be rejected?

Kalim: *tries to cheer up Yuurin*

Kalim: I'll find a good husband for you!

Jamil: Kalim.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: I appreciate your offer, Kalim-senpai. But I must do it myself.

*In the Savanaclaw dorm*

Leona: ...

Ruggie and Jack: ...

The Savanaclaw students: ...

Jack: Is she proposing to the candidates knowing that she would get rejected?

Ruggie: Yeah. That seems her strategy.

Leona: *holding the list of students who were rejected by the voices*

Leona: I'm not liking this. Her last option now is people from Diasomnia.

The Savanaclaw students: ...

Savanaclaw student A: I think the nymphs preferred someone from that dorm.

Leona, Ruggie, and Jack: ...

Leona: Why?

Savanaclaw student A: One of them told me.

Savanaclaw student A: She said that they already knew who it was.

Leona: ...

Leona: What the fu—

[walpu]

Happy birthday Aventurine

...in which he finds himself enjoying his birthday for the first time after he lost everything

notes - gn!reader, was written with a stellaron hunter!reader in mind but it's not specified just know you're considered a criminal in this one, pre-canon, unestablished relationship with a flavor of pining, angs, hurt/comfort, no beta

Love my birthday boy

He doesn't celebrate his birthdays. Not since the day he lost everything. How can he celebrate the joy of his birth if on this day all the joy was taken away from him?

Born on the blessed day, he's Mother Goddess's beloved child. But why did she abandon her people then? Why it had to happen on the day they were celebrating her, on the day they were supposed to be saved? How can he see himself as something other than cursed, how can he see the day as something other than tragedy?

Anyhow, even if he would want to celebrate, for the first years after the massacre he didn't even have the opportunity to do so. And if he could, he would rather mourn his people, his family. But no, he can only focus on his survival, trying to fulfill the promise he gave to his sister.

Now, standing in the lonely hotel room, he can only smile bitterly at the sight of beautifully decorated cake Jade has send him. How ironic, wasn't she the one who told him to forget his name and his past? Perhaps she simply doesn't look at this the same way he does. "You can't change what happened but you can celebrate that you're still here", she would probably say. He envies her ability to brush off sentiments, really.

Now, when he is no longer Kakavasha but Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts, he was deliberately choosing to ignore this day. It has nothing to do with his new self.

He may still hold onto his mother's necklace, his father's shirt, the promise he gave to his big sis. But this day? He doesn't need it. He doesn't need another reminder of the moment he lost everything.

That's what he tells himself, ignoring the pain in his chest, trying to bury himself in the work, running away on a mission he insisted on taking, even if was supposed to be his day off.

Still, he gets the cake. This stupid reminder of the worst day in his life.

It honestly feels like a joke. He doesn't even have anyone to eat this with!

He knows Jade didn't try to mock him, she's pragmatic, not crue. But aeons, it does feel like mockery still.

So he sits with this stupid cake in front of him, not really knowing if he should just throw it away. Somehow it feels... wrong. Wasteful. He knows how stupid that thought is, both him and Jade are rich enough to buy thouthands of those cakes. Yet he can't help but remember how his mom and sister would go out of their ways to give him something nice for his birthdays, something that could be considered a treat, a gift. Now he can have everything he wants but... they won't be there to share it with him.

No one is there to share it with him.

... at least he thinks so. Up until the moment the window opens from the outside (eighteenth floor, mind you) and a very familiar figure jumps in.

He really can't help but smile. Not only out of habit but because your ability to sneak in anywhere you want is truly amusing.

"Oh, what I see? A wanted criminal breaking into the room of one of the IPC's most noticeable employees? Don't you afride of being caught, my dear? Or you've finally decided to end our partnership and get rid of me?"

He can't help but chuckle at your unimpressed gaze. Yes, he has told this joke more than once already. But it's not his fault it always make you roll your eyes in a funny way.

But he really is curious what brought you here. Showing up like that is very risky, for both of you. Something serious must have happened if you decided to visit him out of the blue.

... that's what he thinks until you pull out a small gift box from your pocket, throwing it his way.

"A little birdie told me today it's your birthday. I don't usually participate in the whole gift giving tradition. Nor do I celebrate something myself. But those things reminded me of you and I was nearby anyway" you say with a cheeky smile.

He doesn't even know how to react, honestly. His hands just automatically unwrap the box and... oh. It's a set of earrings. A very pretty set of earrings.

"They reminded me of peacock tails" you say, barely holding back a chuckle.

"How original you are. I'm a birthday boy, you should be nicer, you know!" he acts like it's just a small joke between you two but his voice is weaker than usual and his hands are a bit shaky. He doesn't want to overthink it, he really shouldn't do it, it's just a small gift, a joke.

You thought of him. You know his taste well enough. I came to find him. You're here with him.

He almost panics when you say your goodbyes and turn to leave (through the window again. He'll never know how you do it).

"Hey, hey, no need to hurry. Let me be a good host for my friend" he says with his signature smile (he always feels like you see right through it) while his hand is clenched behind his back (he feels like you see through this too).

Please don't leave.

When you sigh and turn back to face him, he suddenly feels relieved that Jade send him the cake. The thought of sharing it with a wanted criminal who caused nothing but headaches to the IPC is somewhat amusing.

"How about we visit a nearby casino after this, hm? I promise you won't lose with me by your side"

If he can have you by his side, mayve he'll have at least one memory of this day untainted by pain and grief.

[crownofgildedlilies]

my peaceful nights belong to you

in which: a son of poseidon has himself convinced a daughter of athena doesn’t want to listen to him complain.

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader

warnings: angst, my poor percy has been through TOO MUCH

tropes: hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers

word count: 2.1k

a/n: friendly reminder that request r open (esp for headcanons) and bc I have a four hour layover tmrw I will be absolutely active on here. plz enjoy. also, this is inspired by a tiktok I saw that said Percy's trauma is so overlooked. so here's me not overlooking it.

All eyes were on the great Percy Jackson.

Yours were, too, don’t be fooled. You had always found him impossible to look away from. But it wasn’t admiration you were studying him with as tales of his quests were told and retold and embellished around the bonfire. Quests you had been on, each and every time.

No, you were watching him with concern.

Because the son of the sea was drowning in all the attention.

It was almost painful for you to watch, but you couldn't look away.

A beautiful train wreck, you supposed, studying Percy's uncomfortable but obliging conversation with one of the newer sons of Ares who hadn't been around for Kronos or Gaea and simply thought fighting in those wars had been fun.

But people had died. Your people, your friends. It was war, and it was painful, and even though you were the daughter of the war goddess, you hated it with every inch of your being.

No amount of planning on your behalf could have saved Beckendorf. There was no stopping Leo from sacrificing himself.

"That's called being a demigod," Percy had told you one day, offhanded, sometime between nearly dying in a volcanic explosion and being stolen from her by Hera.

"That doesn't mean we have to stand idly by and accept it," You had countered, frowning, and Percy must have realized he'd said something that had upset you, because he had pulled you into a hug and muttered an apology you still hadn't worked out was necessary or not.

But what you did know was that he was your best friend, that you had been in love with him since you were both fourteen, and he absolutely did not want to talk about all his past glories like a good little Greek hero.

Seated on a front-row bench with Grover on on side and an assortment of other campers you knew he wasn't close with surrounding him, you knew you had to run a rescue mission.

Especially since Grover was too distracted by eating his marshmallow roasting stick to realize how tense Percy was as the Ares kid went on and on.

"Perce, there you are." You wedged yourself into the not-entirely open spot next to your best friend, smile on your lips and a sly look in your eyes. Percy's own widened in sight relief, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders in a casual movement that was entirely too familiar. "Thought you ran off on me."

"Never," He sighed, some of his tension already dissipating. You grinned a little unevenly at him, not wanting to give the others watching any clues that the great Percy Jackson wasn't completely and utterly alright.

"Good," You bumped him with your shoulder, and he squeezed his arm around you for just a brief moment, tugging you close to his side. You had to turn and face the young Ares boy to keep yourself focused. "How are your archery lessons coming?"

The new camper looked slightly put out about the change in conversation, but you pinned your stare on him and didn't back down. For a moment, you thought he would continue to pester Percy with questions about fighting in two wars, even with you sending up very clear signals that neither of you were interested.

But the boy made the right choice, launching into a rant about how long range combat was not his strength.

Halfway through the story about almost shooting Connor Stoll's foot, you felt Percy lean towards you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he dropped his voice to a whisper, meant only for you.

"Thank you,"

Since you had taken half a seat, your body was pressed firmly against his from your ankles to your shoulders. His touch warmed your skin like a sunny day on the beach, and you weren't sure if it was a son of Poseidon thing or a Percy Jackson thing.

So instead of answering him, you set one of your hands on his leg, just above his knee, and squeezed.

The moon was shining over camp when you gave up on finding sleep and decided to sneak out.

You’d been around long enough to know just how to sweet talk Mr. D into letting you be out past curfew, and Chiron had a soft spot for you, since you helped save the world. Twice. It was the harpies catching you that you were afraid of.

Travis Stoll had almost learned the hard way that Mr. D was not kidding about them eating campers.

But children of Athena had passed on the secret to sneaking out through generations, and you were exploiting that very information for a midnight trip to the lake to stargaze there when you spotted movement on the roof of Cabin Three.

Really, you weren't in control of your own actions as you turned swiftly to change course. Maybe it was Tyche with her luck or Aphrodite with her meddling in the affairs of the heart that had you scaling the side of Poseidon's cabin, a path you had taken more than once.

Or maybe, for once, you couldn't blame the gods. Maybe you were the only one making the choices that had you settling on your back beside Percy on the slanted cabin roof.

He hadn't seemed all too surprised to see you, but all he offered in way of greeting was a nod before he returned to studying the sky above.

You only let the silence last for three minutes, a gnawing feeling in the pits of your stomach unable to let it be.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, voiced simultaneously quiet and startlingly loud in the otherwise silent night. With your head turned to watch his side profile, you watched him tumble from his thoughts and back onto that rooftop, with you.

"What?" He was playing coy, you knew him well enough. What you didn't understand was why he was holding back with you, of all people. You, who had been there with him from the night Grover dragged him over Half-Blood Hill. Who had followed him and Grover and Annabeth across the country to save his mom, who fought Luke and Kronos with him, and mourned the loss of so many friends.

You, who hadn't slept for six months when he disappeared, only to find him in New Rome with the claim that he had forgotten everyone and everything but you.

His tether to his life. His best friend. His something more.

"About whatever is bothering you so much tonight." You shot him a flat look, but his was still doing a good job at avoiding your eye. Frowning, you nudged him with your elbow. "I saw you at the bonfire, Perce. Something is eating at you."

For a moment, it was silent. And then Percy drew in a deep breath, like he was readying himself for something, but he still hadn't looked at you.

"I guess I’ve just been thinking about just… everything." He sighed, but you could hear the apprehension and exhaustion in his voice. He was still keeping things back, but you couldn't understand why. And that killed you, as a child of Athena. "I've been fighting since I—we—were twelve. It's too..."

"Too what?" You prompted when he trailed off, his voice dying in the warm night air. Your hand brushed against his on the rooftop between your bodies, and you considered the risks of just grabbing his hand and squeezing to offer comfort while he sorted through his thoughts.

"Forget it." He shook his head, and your heart sunk. "You don’t want to hear me complain."

You frowned, twisting to face the sky and wracking your Athena blessed mind for some way to prove to him that you did, in fact, want to hear it. You wanted to hear anything, ever, that he had to say.

But when words failed you, actions didn’t, and you finally stopped pretending to accidentally brush your pinky against his and just wrapped your hand around his.

You both stayed like that for a while, quiet and thinking, until you turned your head to face him, unsurprised to find a stormy look on his face while he still studied the stars. Maybe he was thinking of Zoë, of all the others the two of you had lost over the years.

But you were thinking about him, only.

"I’ve been fighting with you since you came to camp," Your words were quiet, little more than a summer’s breeze brushing across Percy’s skin, but you knew he heard you. "But maybe now we’re not fighting monsters anymore. Maybe we’re fighting the memories and scars they left behind. But I’m still fighting with you, Percy."

He turned his head, then, his eyes finding yours like they were always meant to. And, deep down, part of you knew they were.

Every shared glance during combat, or after a stupid joke, or when a battle ended and all either of you could do was search the carnage for a hint of the other—those eyes had found you.

"I’m just so scared I’ll never get to live my life.” Percy confessed, voice hauntingly hollow. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back like a lifeline. “I don’t know if I’m running away from what’s already happened or into the next big mess. And what if next time… what if…"

He trailed off, eyes wide in panic, a bit of desperation. You squeezed his hand again, because you couldn’t give him the words. He needed to find them himself.

Percy screwed his eyes shut and darted forward, slotting his mouth over yours in an unexpected, horribly angled kiss. Teeth clashed together, your bottom lip caught in the mayhem and you gasped at the slight bite of pain.

He jumped back like you had burned him, propped up on one arm as he leaned on his side next to you.

"I, shit, I shouldn’t have—" He fumbled for words, already trying to shuffle further away from you, but you held tight onto his hand to keep him close, sitting up to follow him. "Please, let’s just forget about this, okay? I just, I got caught up in everything and—"

"Tell me you didn’t want to kiss me, then." You promoted, brows knitted together as you studied his face, desperate for a glimpse of how he was feeling revealed to you in the moonlight. "Because if you can’t say it meant nothing to you, you need to tell me, right now."

"I… can’t say it."

And just like that, you were the one kissing him, one hand curving around the back of his neck to keep him close while the other remained threaded through his fingers. His free hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as if he needed confirmation that this was real, that you were real.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, you didn’t go far. Not from him. Never from him.

"I was worried next time I wouldn’t get the chance to do that." Percy finished his thought from before, a little dazed from the kiss you both had been long awaiting, apparently. You smiled softly and closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against his.

"If you’re running towards the next prophecy, I’ll run with you." You promised, pausing only briefly to shift your position so you and Percy were laying on the roof again, only this time your head was propped on his chest and his arm was wrapped securely around you. "But if you want to sit up here and talk about the monsters you’re running from, I’ll do that, too."

"Thank you." He echoed his words from the earlier bonfire. And you could tell from his voice that he really was thankful. Because as tough as he was, Percy Jackson was still half mortal. "I…" He started, the air thick with tension about what he was going to confess. "I keep having dreams about Tartarus."

You let him talk, devoting your attention and mind to him, tracing shapes and stars and waves against his chest by your head while he spoke.

Time moved quickly that way, with talk of his fears and what weighed heavily on his mind broken up only when his throat would clog with emotion and you would tilt your head up to kiss away the memory long enough for him to regain his composure.

Because no one knew him better than you, and he didn't have to be the great Percy Jackson with you.

He could just be Percy, the boy who was haunted by his past and terrified of his future.

And you would give him all of your peaceful nights for him to have only one.

[pheonixgrave]

Softer Now (18+)

Ahh! You guys seem to be really enjoying these. I realized I was just writing the same Tav so there's that

Warnings: Soft smut, definite voyeurism, a decent amount of blood drinking, Soft!Astarion, pre-Act III, post-Act II

“Aren’t you just a little jealous?” Karlach asked, joining Astarion near the stash of wine they found.

“Why would I be jealous of the walking encyclopedia?” He smirked, watching a certain elf interact with a certain wizard.

“Oh c’mon! He’s flirting with her and you two are a thing, right?”

“I find it rather charming, actually,” he took a swig of the awful wine in his hand.

The Tiefling looked from the vampire spawn to the pair looking over some old tome whose name no one else could pronounce. “Charming?”

“Let me tell you what I see,” he set the bottle down to face the barbarian. “To you and I, Gale is obviously flirting. In a very clumsy manner, but flirting all the same. Our fearless leader, however, has no idea. To her, he is as much of a friend as Wyll or Shadowheart. Yet, he keeps trying because he has no clue that she simply isn’t flirting back.”

“That doesn’t make you angry?”

“Of course not!” He laughed, “I can barely believe he managed to bed a goddess with how he flirts.”

“It does seem pretty out there, as far as stories go,” Karlach crossed her arms and continued to watch the pair. 

“Anyways, I know there’s no competition.”

She smirked, “You do sound a teensy bit jealous.”

“My dear, I do not get jealous.” The more he thought about it, the more pause it gave him. Their resident wizard does try to hold her attention more often than he should. But Tav’s time was her own. He knew he had nothing to worry about. After everything they’ve been through, he couldn’t imagine her changing her mind at the last moment. Right?

Tav, on the other hand, was enjoying pouring over the old tome they had found. It gave some interesting insight into Illithids and their reasonings. Unfortunately, she was unable to read the language it was written in. She was thankful for Gale in that sense. Who knew he spoke Deep Speech? Granted it was written in Espruar but the script itself was odd. The wizard had helped her decipher a few pages about psionic energy and how they have mastered it. It truly was fascinating. 

“This is nice,” Gale spoke from next to her. He was holding the dusty tome in his hands with the bard sitting near him, using her mage hand to scribble any notes she’s taken. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes, “I suppose it is! I’m very happy we found this book.”

“It truly is remarkable,” he swallowed, “It’s also a nice excuse to spend more time together in the midst of all this madness.” 

“Oh! I suppose it is nice to sit with everyone.” She didn’t fail to notice him scoot slightly closer. Just a hair between them now.

Gale closed the book and turned to look at the elf next to him. “I’m afraid I must ask you something.”

Something in Tav’s mind warned her to walk away. But she was still getting used to that voice, so she elected not to listen to it. This was Gale. This was her friend. “What’s on your mind?”

He grabbed her hands in his, “I have noticed you and Astarion getting rather close recently.”

Tav wasn’t sure how to react. She was already flustered by the sudden turn of the conversation. She was more than happy to keep speaking of the Illithid empire. “Where are you going with this, Gale?”

Gale’s eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying far too hard to bear into her soul and she simply…didn’t want him to. “I told myself it was casual, not a matter of the heart but…clearly I was wrong and it looks like I am the last to know. I know how close you two have gotten, I just thought you would show me the respect of telling me first.”

The Elf’s jaw dropped, “Tell you? Tell you what?”

“But you can tell me now. Who is it to be? Me or him?” The look in Gale’s eyes was nearly as serious as when he was told he’d have to become a bomb.

“What exactly am I choosing here?” Tav blinked, glancing down at the wizard’s hands that completely enveloped hers. It took her a moment before her brain caught up. “Oh! Oh, Gale! I had no idea you felt this strongly.”

A glimmer of a smile reached his face, “Well, perhaps I should have done more. Been more charming, more flattering, harder to reach…but I was only myself. Sometimes that just isn’t enough.” His face dropped looking at hers, “Whatever your decision is, I will respect it. But you must choose. You cannot have us both.”

Tav made a choked sound in the back of her throat before clearing it. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I think it’s for the best that we aren’t involved like that. I want to be with Astarion.”

“I see. I suppose he does have a certain charm about him, if you’re into that sort of thing.” He sighed, “I’ll just put my feelings to one side. I think that’s best for everyone. It’s certainly the best thing for me. I won’t leave, unless you want me to. Or until fate forces my hand, your friendship is all we have. And I will be happy to have it, eventually.”

Tav’s heart broke for the man. It must be quite painful to not have those feelings returned. For a moment, she thought about what she would do if Astarion ever stops feeling the things he says he feels for her. And the thought almost brought tears to her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she couldn’t hide the crack in her voice. But Gale was never going to be the cause of it. 

“Worry not. I carry my regrets wherever I go and I am used to their weight. One more will not break my back.” He gripped her hands one final time before she pulled away. 

She gave him a sad smile before walking over to where Karlach and Astarion stood. Grabbing the bottle from Astarion’s hands, she drank deep for a moment. They both glanced at each other before turning back towards the Elf. She handed the bottle back to him before smiling at Karlach, “Is there anything you have to admit to me? Any deep romantic feelings or attachment?”

Karlach laughed, “What? No, soldier!” She put her still warm hand on the much smaller elf’s shoulder. “You’re a dear friend. More than that, you’re family.”

Tav’s shoulders dropped, “Oh thank the Gods.” She turned to Astarion who was watching her with raised eyebrows, “Bed?” 

The moment they were inside his tent, she buried her face in his chest with her arms wrapped so tightly around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong? Did the mean mage say something he shouldn’t have?” 

She didn’t want to pull far enough away to answer him. She didn’t want him to see her start to cry. She just shook her head and held him as close as she could. She wasn’t sure how to process these feelings. The vampire spawn just wrapped his arms around her trembling form. 

“You don’t have to say anything, just nod your head. Did Gale hurt you in any way?” She could hear the growl in his voice. It sounded more dangerous than normal. 

She pulled away with a deep inhale. She looked up at him with tears already streaming down her face. With a sniffle she whispered, “Gale admitted he had feelings for me, yes. But then I thought about how miserable life would be without you in it.”

Astarion froze, his body tensed. “So let me get this straight,” he swallowed, more nervous than he’s ever really been before. “You told Gale you’re not interested just to be with me? I do come with my complications, my love.”

She let out a breathy laugh, “I told Gale I’m not interested because I’m simply not interested.” Her hand reached up to stroke his cheek, “I just don’t ever want to imagine a life without you again. A world where you’re not with me. Because you’ve always been near, even if I didn’t know it.”

He remembers the night he told her about Cazador. The night he told her about the Szarr palace was also the same night she had told her about her tower. And how she could see the palace from her desk. It was true, they really have always been close in one way or another. “And you got that worked up because…?”

“I wouldn’t even know what I was missing,” she smiled at him, eyes still full of emotion. “You’ve been all of my firsts. First kiss, first night together. Hells, the first time I’ve held someone's hand was with you. This is all still very new to me. And the moment I thought about you not being with me I-” she let out a choked sob before gripping his shirt in her fists and burying her face in his chest once again. 

For a moment, the vampire spawn didn’t react. It still takes him a moment to return affection but he managed to wrap his arms around the trembling bard. He swallowed before gently rubbing the small of her back. The thought of someone wanting him this badly was…daunting, to say the least. He knew if they had met before the nautiloid, he’d mark her as a victim. She was pretty and just naive enough to fall for him. Hells, he had even known her parents. Cazador loved having the city’s nobility over, but never her. 

She was always the princess in the tower. Always there but never seen. Even Cazador had thought she was a mere rumor and nothing else.

For a while, he just held her while she cried. He wasn’t sure what else he could do besides hold her. Nothing he could say would comfort her. They weren’t even sure if they would survive this mess. So he pulled her closer. The rest of the night passed as they were wrapped in each other’s embrace. Soft, whispered words of a future sprinkled with hope. For the first time in his unlife, he had more than just hope.

The next couple of days passed uneventfully. They were only traveling, plain and simple. Onwards to Baldur’s Gate. Where all of their dooms or salvations lay. In the gloom of it all, Tav wanted some fun. She had gone to Shadowheart and pilfered some of her extra blankets with promises to replace them once they reached the city. As they set up camp yet again, she made her way towards the lake side. She laid out all of the blankets in a large square before finding the extra food she had squirreled away. And pulled out the best wine she could find. It was an obviously aged bottle still covered in a thick layer of dust, but the label looked fancy.  She truly knew nothing about wine so she prayed to whomever was listening that it wasn’t swill. She then adjusted her bustier in an awkward manner before smiling to herself and searching for the vampire spawn.

He wasn’t hard to find. No one heard what she whispered in his ear. But they certainly noticed the fond smile and raised eyebrows as she dragged him away from the camp. Astarion looked at the little picnic she had put together, his hand in hers before kissing the top of her head. “And what’s the special occasion, darling?”

She smiled up at him, unabashed emotion in her eyes with a grin on her face. She was truly divine in the moonlight. She shrugged, “I just wanted to do something nice for you. We reach Baldur’s Gate in a couple days and we have to hit the ground running soon. I just wanted to take a moment, just for us.” She picked up the bottle of wine she had found, “I hope it’s okay. I know it’s old but I don’t know if it’s good.” 

He smiled and pulled her close. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”

The tips of her ears flushed as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips. And then they sat and talked and ate and drank. They spoke about the Gauntlet of Shar, about the monastery, about the Moonrise Towers. And the conversation drifted to their party as Tav slowly became more and more tipsy. She talked about Wyll and his obvious daddy issues. Shadowheart and her love for more adult literature. And Astarion was all too happy to sit and listen to her. It’s one of the things that drew him to her, after all. She could read people like they were a book she was all too happy to read. 

As the evening turned into night, the pair ended up against a nearby rock. Tav sitting on his lap as he peppered her neck with kisses. And as Tav’s giggles turned into soft moans as his hands started to travel to her waist. “You should keep quiet, my sweet, we wouldn’t want to wake the entire camp up. Would we?” He whispered before nipping at the base of her neck. 

“I-I think you’d like that far too much,” she managed to gasp out as he helped her rock her hips back and forth against him. 

He chuckled against her neck, leaving trails of almost bites with his fangs. “What ever makes you say that?”

“Astarion!” She moaned, grabbing the back of his head as he finally sank his teeth into her neck. She gripped his curls in one hand and dug her nails into his shoulder with the other. Her hips moved on their own as he slowly drank from her. His arms wrapped around her waist as he held her up. Between the wine and him drinking from her, she felt lightheaded. But that made the friction between them feel all the more intense. 

“You always taste just so perfect, my love.” He slowly released her neck before slamming his lips against hers. He knew he was being needy but he craved her. As his lips melded against hers his nimble fingers went to work on the knots of her bustier. It never took him long to get her out of her clothes and tonight was no exception. 

She grabbed his hands before he could fully remove her bustier, cradling his hands in hers. “Are you sure you want to do this? We really don’t have to. I’m happy to just sit here with you.” Her voice was barely a whisper, something meant just for him. 

He smiled at her before kissing her again, “Darling, if I didn’t wish to have you, I wouldn’t have you half dressed sitting on my lap.”

She smiled and let go of his hands and let him return to practically tearing off her clothing. He wasn’t satisfied until she was sat on his lap in nothing but her underwear. His face buried in her breasts, leaving small little nicks with his teeth as he made his way back up to her lips. Her hands gripped his shoulder as he snaked his hand down her body. He made sure to feel all the softness that was still on her body, never failing to trace her curves. 

Tav was small but years in a tower had made her body gentle. Her hands were rough from her instruments, yes, and she did have a lot of skill with a blade. But she was in no way muscular. And Astarion enjoyed that more than he could say. He enjoyed being able to almost see the tremors in her thighs before he felt it. Gods, he needed her. 

It only took him a moment to find her clit and draw slow, gentle circles around it. Never quite touching it directly. “Darling, you’re already shaking. Did you miss me that much?”

“Yes!” She cried into his ear. “Y-you’re teasing me.” Her head fell against his shoulder as her body trembled against him. 

“Oh, I’d never do such a thing,” He smiled and buried his hand in her hair. “I simply want to take my time enjoying you.” The vampire spawn slowly filled her cunt with his fingers, his palm grinding against her clit. 

She tried hard to keep quiet. Really she did. But when his fingers curled inside of her? She couldn’t help but cry out his name. How was he so patient? All she wanted was to have him inside her. He pumped his fingers in and out of her cunt so painfully slowly. 

Now, Tav may have been too focused on the rogue’s hands to notice anything else. But Astarion wasn’t. He knew Halsin and Gale were keeping watch tonight. He also knew it was far too late for anyone else to be awake. Which is why his hands didn’t stop when he noticed the bushes across from them moved. It was so subtle that he almost missed it.

Almost.

Someone was watching them. And he had an inkling he knew exactly who it was. The thought made him grin against Tav’s bloodsoaked neck. He sped up his fingers, holding her as she writhed against him. “That’s it, love, don’t hold a single thing back.” She came with a cry of his name. She was still trembling as he made a show of licking his own fingers clean. “I do so enjoy how you taste, my love.” He didn’t whisper this time. He wanted the wizard in the bushes to hear.

With shaking hands she went to untie the knots on his trousers. He leaned back against the rock, letting her take his length in her hands. “M-may I?” Her neck was stained just as red as the flush on her cheeks. Her big blue eyes wide in anticipation. 

“May you what?” His hand went to her throat and he felt her breath catch.

“M-may I ride you?” It really was endearing how she asked. Her voice was breathless and her chest was heaving. He had never been overly rough with her. But with a voyeur in the bushes? He was more than tempted to lay claim to the nearly virgin in his lap. 

He pouted at her, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, darling.”

Her eyes went wider than before. “W-what?”

She was so innocent. So pure, he had never even heard her swear before. “What is it exactly that you would like to do?” He purred, his forehead meeting hers. “Don’t play coy with me now.”

She swallowed, the tips of her ears matching the rest of her face. “Astarion,” she whined. 

“If you use your words, love, I’ll be happy to give you anything you want.”

She whined again when the grip around her throat tightened ever so slightly. “I-I want-” another swallow, “I want to ride your cock.”

He smiled, “See? Now was that so hard? You did so well,” he whispered against her lips.  She adjusted herself over him, still holding him in one hand while the other braced herself on his shoulder. His hand still held her throat, not quite squeezing just letting her know he was there. The bard lowered herself onto him. He groaned as she sank down. “Perfect.”

Her other hand flew up to his chest while she gripped his blouse so tightly that her knuckles were whiter than before. Her head spun while the wine loosened her tongue. “Gods, Astarion.” 

“Use your words, darling,” he moaned against her neck, his eyes keeping an eye on the bush yet again. He wanted the wizard to see how good he could make her feel. He wanted him to see that he wasn’t even a thought on her mind. He wanted him to see that she wanted him and not Gale.

She sat for a moment, adjusting to his size before rocking her hips back and forth. Astarion’s hands flew to her hips to help guide her movements. “Feels so good,” she whimpered, still clutching at his blouse. 

“That’s it, pet. You can take it, I know you can.” Her movements were entirely her own. She gradually went from rocking to bouncing. His body told him to throw his head back but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Maybe now Gale would realize she was his. Maybe he had more of a possessive streak than he thought. 

“Your hand, put it back!” She used his chest as leverage for her movements. He could feel her getting close and who was he to deny her? He instinctively put his hand back around her throat and squeezed. He had never felt her tighten around him harder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He let her sit like that for a moment as she started to relax once again.

Whoever was in the bushes was gone now. Either too riled up to stay or too heartbroken to watch. Either way, Astarion found it satisfying. Satisfying enough to toss Tav on her back and put her ankles on his shoulder. It was something about knowing Tav not only trusted him but chose him, drove him wild. Far more than any lover he’s had in the past. Even through her half opened eyes and her mind filled with wine and pleasure, her eyes were still filled with that emotion. That feeling that he wouldn’t dare put words to yet. 

She was his. And he was equally hers. 

Her moans and whimpers filled the air but he felt so far away from her. Too far. She grabbed his hands and pulled him closer, lacing her hands with his. “Beautiful,” was all she could whisper before she clenched around him. This time, he wasn’t far behind her. They laid like that for a while. Him on top of her, her tracing small patterns on his back. The scars were a reminder of what awaited them in Baldur’s Gate. But it could wait for now. For now they had each other. 

“Did you see who was in the bushes?” 

He immediately met her eyes, “You knew?”

“I’m naive, not stupid.” She giggled, rolling over to her side.

“I believe we just gave the magic eater quite the eyeful.”

[throwaway-yandere]

𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙮 (Yandere!Neuvillette/Reader)

a/n: this was inspired by my favorite childhood TV show, House MD & Oedipus Rex. The plot was supposed to be something else but dingleaf happened one 4AM ago. Anyways, welcome to our first Throwaway-Thursday this End of Year Blues!!!

Unreliable Synopsis: Everyone held their breath when they heard ex-defense attorney (Y/n) say these words: "Your Honor, I would like to challenge Champion Duelist Clorinde to clear my charges."

CW: yandere themes, reader has so much spite I can fry an egg, hurt/NO COMFORT. Please prioritize your mental health if these CWs are triggering to you. (Note: The plot happens a month before the Fontaine AQ, so he doesn't know about what happened to Vautrin.)

“Why the pale expression? Has the trial last week caused you tremendous pain?”

"Such pallor is caused by pity, not grief.” Neuvilette made his fragile excuse to reassure Furina, but the words did not reach her ears. The ringing of raindrops outside was louder, more convincing. Fontaine is vexed with storms near-daily. The sad verdant earth will soon sponge and dry the hydro dragon’s tears as always, but every man hopes they won’t drown first. 

At first, he was convinced what he harbored was pity. For the pessimists, Fontaine is a nation where virtuous pagans paraded themselves as rich and devoted ran amok. Absolute justice is a cartoonish ideal– lack of entertainment is the death sentence. 

Lady Furina was starting to believe he lives his life by a certain suspect’s final envoi: 

Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.

"Are you insane?!" Navia held your shoulders, eyes wide. 

This was the worst thing you could ever do to your best friend. 

"Maybe I am." You told her, chuckling slightly as your thumbs caressed the nerves behind her palms. Navia, as intimidating as her occupation was, never once gripped you this hard. 

You wish you could hug her fully.

But these prison bars are holding you back.

"Can you blame me, Nav?"

"Don't." She glared. "Don't do this."

Navia trembled.

"Please, don't follow Dad..."

The blonde woman was reduced to a young, hopeless girl. You saw a reflection of the small Navia who lost Callas, and that short glimpse was stretched into a whole tragic spectacle. 

"I'm begging you, (Y/n). Please… d-don't go away. Don't leave me too…"

This was the cruelest you've ever been to someone you love.

But also the kindest you've been to yourself.

"There's nothing else I can do, Nav."

"W-We can always do something! There must be a way!" She screamed gutturally. "We'll find a way to make that Chief Justice pay instead. If there's a will—"

"But there's none. There is no will in me left."

"Then hold on to mine, for Archon's sake! Depend on me!"

"What for? We both lack the means to grasp our Archon's hand." You shook your head, grinning without life. 

You wiped the tears off her cheeks. In a small fraction of time, you trembled, showing a bit of soul.

"Our Goddess has abandoned me. Everyone and everything but you had." You said. "Dear Navia, don't make this harder for yourself. Let me go."

"(Y/n)..."

Her grip relaxed.

Navia finally let go.

But that was not the scene's last word.

Clorinde sprinted towards your cell, seething in electric rage. Navia stepped back. Their relationship might be less than cordial, but Clorinde was also your friend.

And after all these years of friendship, she never would've guessed you would elicit such melancholic frustration within her.

She knows she'll come out of this duel victorious.

She knows if she doesn't say a word, she'll be the one to bury you six feet under.

Clorinde's fists clenched and her breathing grew harsh and difficult, unable to accept your inhumane gaze.

"Is this your solution, (Y/n)?"

From the tone of her voice, this would not be a pleasant conversation. One wrong word, and you'll see a side of the Champion Duelist not even her court opponents knew.

You nodded.

"Yes."

"State your reason."

"Because this is the only way I'll die with dignity."

…

"Die… with dignity?"

Something inside her cracked.

"Yes." You nodded again, becoming uncertain. "At least with this, there would be something Neuvillette cannot decide for me. And (Y/n) (L/n) chooses a dignified death."

“DEATH HAS NO DIGNITY!!!” 

You and Navia flinched at the sudden sound.

Clorinde screamed, feeling her eyes burn. Her veins became more prominent in her face and her skin reddish. The sheer force of her scream was enough to bring your full attention to her, yet to the duelist, her uncharacteristic outburst meant nothing.

“DEATH WILL ALWAYS BE UGLY!!! DEATH– DEATH IS NEVER BEAUTIFUL!!! IT IS ALWAYS SINISTER— LOATHSOME AND VILE.”

"Clor—"

She pulled you by your collar.

“There– there is only dignity in living.” She trembled, casting her gaze down. “You can live with dignity– but you can’t die with it.”

For a while, only her unsteady breathing could be heard.

Clorinde eventually calmed down, her heavy sighs and frantic pants slowing as the red hue of her face somewhat returned to its usual pale complexion. She couldn’t afford a second more to process her growing grief.

"Find another duelist."

As a successor to the Marechaussee Hunters, there's no one else you need but her.

"But I want you."

"(Y/n)."

"You've always been my idol, Clorinde." You told her solemnly. "I always thought you at least made my clients have a clean death under your blade."

Clorinde paused.

That, she cannot deny. 

She did spare mercy to the people you defended. But she doesn't understand how you fail to comprehend why she couldn't bear to bring herself to enact the same reprieve for you.

"Retrieve your gloves. I don't and I won't accept your challenge." Clorinde closed her eyes. "Live your days in the Fortress instead. Death is not the solution."

You laughed. As if you'd let yourself be under Wriothesley's guidance when you can smell from miles away that he's one of Neuvillette's lap dogs.

"Isn't this suffering enough?" You spoke with a casual lack of self-preservation. "I don't want to live under Neuvillette's scrutinizing eyes. Not anymore."

You looked up.

That empty smile was no longer on your face.

And that was somehow more frightening than it should be.

"So do your job as a champion and end it all, just like what you've done to Uncle Callas and the others."

Your last conversation with the Duke was not as memorable as when he caught you spiking the Iudex’s cup, yet you’d give his personality credit where it is due. His was certainly a memorable one.

Wriothesley stood a few steps away from the bars while you purposefully cornered yourself. The distance was noticeable. It was clear that neither of you was close to each other. This was mere formality brought about by one of your should’ve-been victims.

“So, you sure don’t want to be roommates?” Wriothesley asked. "Or you know, see old friends and family down there?"

"I'd rather not disappoint them with my presence."

“So, you're a coward?" He asked, intending to provoke you.

"Maybe?" you answered, mimicking his tone. "Wouldn't know. Last time I checked, I was an honorable defense attorney. But suddenly, the Iudex had a change of heart."

"Neuvillette didn't have a change of heart. You are a terrorist."

You laughed sardonically, "suppose so."

You both weren't entirely wrong. Friends and foe alike know you've turned to rebellion after the justice system had failed you repeatedly. Neuvillette's lovestruck fixation was merely the final straw.

“You’re walking on a death sentence.”

“No shit,” you clicked your tongue and continued. “What else do you think this is for?”

“The Iudex was convinced that you’re acting out because you had a guilty conscience, and he’s very willing to drop those charges and forgive you.”

“Guilty conscience?! HA!!!” You laughed. “As if I felt guilty for what I’ve done. If anything, I’m rejoicing.”

Wriothesley smirked, but it faded quickly.

“I told him the same, but then he says if that were true, you’re probably just masking it to play the villain’s part.”

“Do you believe every word he says?”

“No,” Wriothesley did not hesitate to answer. “I know a criminal when I see one. And I also know when a criminal can get away with their mess.”

“The jury thinks otherwise– the oratrice cannot be wrong.” You snickered. “I’m as guilty as they come, hands filled with arsenic and all.”

"You can still get out of this. Sure, you'll get a stern talking-to— a lecture on the virtue of honor and respect. But in the end, he'd give you a second chance. He's still hoping that a mutual agreement will arise in the end."

You expressed your disinterest with a droopy-eyed “Blah, blah, blah…”

Wriothesley frowned.

“You’ll make him depressed.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“And you think I care? Fontaine can flood next month. Just as long as I die tomorrow it’s none of my business.”

…

“Well, it’s your call,” Wriothesley said. “If you’re willing to throw your life away like that, then you probably wouldn’t survive a week underwater.”

He wrapped a hand around one of the bars.

“You know, (Y/n),” the Duke looked at you dead in the eye. “Marriage with the Iudex isn’t as bad as you’re making it out to be.”

You laughed.

“What makes you say that?” You smiled through gritted teeth. “Are you his second spouse?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugged. “You could’ve just lived a bit more silently.”

You glared. 

“Are you saying I should live like a caged bird? That I should accept that our system here is rigged?”

“I’m saying you should’ve been more grateful with what you have.”

You scoffed.

“Wow.”

An awkward silence followed after. It wasn’t as if a quip was hard to form– but the historical context behind whom you were speaking to made weighing empathy over spite a challenge. You knew of his past, his name or lack thereof, and quiet allegiance to Neuvillette. Sigewinne had made sure you knew of it to glorify the adoptive “father” of the Melusines. Wriothesley owes him his survival.

But "Wriothesley" of all people should've known that those who know morbid truths cannot be silenced forever. 

And Neuvillette owes you a peaceful death. 

… The Duke sighed, noticing that his admiration for the Iudex did not align with his current morals.

“We’ll forever agree to disagree on this, won’t we?” He asked.

“Hopefully not forever, I don’t want to stay here for much longer.”

Wriothesley chuckled at your morbid joke. But before he could walk away with a less-than-heavy heart, you shifted from your corner.

“Hey, Wriothesley?”

He turned to look at you– your hand specifically.

It’s a letter.

“Mind handing these to the authorities?”

Wriothesley’s eyes widened.

“Is that–”

“It’s a written confession,” you chuckled. “Don’t ask me how I got a pen and paper. I know that damn bastard forbids anyone to lend me anything that’ll help me write a final will. Gotta say, at least his etiquette lessons had some use. At least my last words are in pretty cursive.”

He didn’t say another word. 

…

The Duke left the room, empty-handed.

…

No one wants to see the Iudex more heartbroken than he already is now.

The interrogation room was small, but not to the point that there was a minimal budget for its construction. You sat on one end behind the glass divider after one of the guards took your letter. There were only plain walls and two lightbulbs on the ceiling. At the center of the room is a table with two chairs on either side, no pen or paper. 

Nothing but an empty table. 

But the quiet comfort was gone when the man of the hour closed the door behind him. As the ticking of the clock becomes more softer, the two individuals would be forced to sit for the duration of this “interrogation.”

It was none other than your husband, the Iudex, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, and the bane of your existence.

Monsieur Neuvillette.

His back was straight; his eyes, “stern” and focused. He clasped his hands together, fingers intertwined. His gaze searched for something— regret, remorse, anything that could make the upcoming nightmare disappear. 

Neuvillette's voice was “calm” and “collected.” 

But you didn’t buy it. Not with his messy hair, his forlorn look, his frown. You rarely saw him cry. You had a gut feeling he hides it by standing amidst heavy rain, but this time the redness of his eyes and puffiness of his cheeks says it all.

It’s a heavy downpour outside. 

He can’t be bothered to hide his tears from the public eye anymore.

"In your own words, please explain why you had attempted to poison me."

Your eyes lit up. He immediately wished he could take those words back. 

So, he’s still in denial. Neuvillette seriously didn’t think you wrote the letter. He probably didn’t think it was your handwriting. It was almost insulting.

“Oh, Monsieur! You are as generous as they say, finally letting your spouse speak for themselves!” You grinned sarcastically. “And they say chivalry is dead! DEAD!!!”

He cringed at your pointed enthusiasm.

You recount the day you attempted to murder him, describing how you had slipped the poison into his favorite cup. How you didn’t really care to hope it wouldn’t be noticed since what mattered more to you was his death over your own freedom. The more detailed you became, the more it suffocated him.

“But, as you can see, you’re alive and I am behind this glass window,” you tapped the divider. “Away from you, at last.”

He bit his lip.

“(Y/n)—”

“I hate you.”

He breathed in shakily.

“I know.”

“And yet you still fell for it.” Your voice suddenly softened. 

“Why?” You continued. “Why did you believe my act for the past month? I know you had your suspicions, so why? You knew I was just playing along to get your guard down– to act like some loving housewife so I can find the opportunity to smother you with a pillow– so… why?”

“Maybe…”

Neuvillette took a deep breath.

“Maybe it’s because dying by your hands would be a dignified way to go.”

Your eyes widened. The air turned to glue. Breathing became a challenge.

He looked up, meeting your gaze. Monsieur Neuvillette was serious. No shifting position can make you feel comfortable. 

Because Neuvillette in his most sincere form of speech is the most brutal.

“I just wished to be loved by y-you,” his voice cracked. “Even for a moment, even for a lie, I would die to know I was loved by you.”

His face crumpled, tears flowing freely. He reached a hand out against the glass window, his palm marking the divider. Neuvillette was breathing erratically, desperate to hold you. The pain in his chest was getting heavier, much like the rain outside. You almost couldn’t hear him from all the background noise, and you wished that was what happened. 

This was the man who took your clients' happiness. The man who took Uncle Callas away with his rationale. The reason for your unhappiness.

And yet, you couldn't think of any other person who would love you as much as he does. 

“Y-You know me for who I-I am,” he gasped out. “I am but a weak and beaten down man w-who couldn’t express himself like a human being. Y-You were there, you comforted me with not a smile, an umbrella, or thoughtless words of encouragement— you accepted me for who I was with a warm embrace.” 

You hated it. 

You hate how your heart ached for the man that made your life a living hell.

“I was the leader of the Revolution and I needed intel against you, nothing more.” You spat. This time, you were the least convincing one. “It was an act of kindness I shouldn’t have done.”

“Yet it has helped me more than you had accounted for.”

“And never before have I ever regretted playing savior.”

“I was merely attempting to reform your life,” Neuvillette breathlessly spoke. “I wished to set you on the right path. You were a gifted individual with great connections. Your peers had high expectations of you. For you to throw that away for nonsense activism— no— terrorism is heartbreaking. And I—”

Neuvillette gulped.

“I didn’t want to face you on the other side of the courtroom.”

You laughed.

“Some things are just fated to happen,” you said. “An old astrologist told me that. She told me I was bound to get myself in deep legal trouble. Growing up, I figured it might as well be a cause worth doing if it’ll lead me to that path eventually. Why else did I become a defense attorney in such a hellishly political land?”

He trembled, tears falling at a faster rate.

You almost wanted to reach out and wipe those tears away.

Almost.

“Must you treat your life as though it is disposable?” Neuvillette asked, choking slightly. “Why are you…”

You digressed. “You’re not going to retract those charges are you?”

“I did.”

You frowned.

“But Lady Furina would not allow it,” he shook, frustrated. “She found out about your past, your hatred for her so-called incompetences and published lese-majestes.”

“Good for her, good for her.”

Neuvillette’s hand slowly slid down.

“I can’t… I cannot watch this…”

You felt a surge of confidence, for Neuvillette was indeed devoid of hope. You've never seen him with his head hung low. What went through Neuvillette's mind remained uncertain. Perhaps, just a small piece of him knew you could never be his. Perhaps he knew that you were destined for a doomed fate.

But it doesn't matter. 

All that mattered was that you were free.

That was a month ago.

The rain had been going on nonstop for thirty days, and the Hydro Archon had every right to worry. 

“I can’t sleep…” Neuvillette thought he spoke out loud, but it was just a whisper. He’s growing weak, his sleep deprivation catching up to him.

“Then come lay your head down,” she yawned slightly, fanning her breath. “Such heavy thoughts need a place to rest.”

“An irresistible offer,” Neuvillette mused humorlessly. “But I must decline.”

“Oh Neuvillette, when will you relax from this role you carry?” The archon spoke rhetorically.

Neuvillette chuckled sadly.

The heavy downpour wouldn’t stop. 

Perhaps…

Perhaps when the day comes and he is stripped of dignity.

Maybe then, he’ll have his rest.

Neuvillette had already forgotten why he was crying that fateful day. But in those memories, he recalls he was callow and unformed. Was it due to an unfavorable trial? The problem evades him. His recollection remains only in how the people reacted around him. Many asked if he was okay and he'd reply with a simple "I'm fine". And he was, until he could no longer convince himself with that lie. He was certain he was about to dip his toes in another cycle of nihilism.

And then you came.

“Monsieur Neuvillette?”

The rain was pouring out in the cemetery. You were there; your presence questionable. He knew that you arrived intending to probe whether or not he was a sovereign dragon, but he gave you the nod of acknowledgment.

“Greetings, Mx. (Y/n),” he answered, “I trust you’ve been well? Is there a person whom you’re visiting?”

He asked in sheer politeness despite knowing your motivations.

“...”

You frowned.

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long have you been carrying that loneliness, Monsieur?” You asked, voice louder. “How long?”

His lip quivered.

“Centuries, perhaps,” the Iudex thought he could pass it off as a light joke to catch you off-guard, but it came off as too sincere. “I do not keep track.”

You cautiously and awkwardly approached Neuvillette, and without a word, wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace.

Just like what Uncle Callas had done for you before.

Your existence here was anathema and your words were seditious. His initial reaction was to resist because he knew you were just like Vautrin. He knew you were secretly seeking vengeance because the oratrice unfavorably judged numerous friends and family.

But he needed it. He needed this badly.

It was then that the Iudex decided that he needed you. That he will keep you.

Neuvillette cannot handle another Vautrin— he can't handle another Carole. So, he'll do it right this time. He'll keep you safe, from your illegal associations and even from yourself. 

And it was a selfish yet necessary need.

A lump formed in his throat as a tear fell, trickling down his cheek slowly. He allowed himself to melt in your hug, trembling. 

“You’re going to need all the hugs you can get if you’re planning to stay as Iudex for centuries more,” you whispered. “You’re resilient, but in this world, that solitary resilience won’t be enough, won’t it?”

Unable to maintain his stoic facade any longer, Neuvillette gripped you tighter in that embrace, his vulnerability finally resurfacing physically rather than Fontaine's rains. Surprised by his sudden tirade of sobs, you embraced him with all the warmth you could muster. At that moment, you had an epiphany. Despite the enmity of their positions, they were the same. Both of you were victims of a nation that demanded more in your assigned roles than you could bear.

“If you'd let me, I'll be the person you’d come to if you ever need a hug.” You weren’t sure if you said it as a devious plan or an act of empathy. “I wouldn’t mind. Not at all.”

You've made yourself important to him now. 

Neuvillette cannot lose you too.

As he clung to the solace you inadvertently provided, you can't help but wish you never extended that small comfort months later. Every inch given could be exploited, and when you offered him a shred of empathy, he had seized it and turned it into a mile-long advantage. The vulnerability shared in that hug was the dangerous crack in the sword you've worked so hard to maintain.

And so, when the time came you faced Champion Duelist Clorinde with it, the gaps broke the sword completely and with its death came soon the end of your life.

She was right. There is no dignity in dying with a broken hilt.

But there was peace.

And as much as you hated Neuvillette, you wish he’d have it too.

"I've made it this far, and all I've ever done was in accordance with what fate and others wanted of me. In my demise, let me do something for myself." “After all, I’ve learned from watching Uncle Callas when he fought Champion Duelist Clorinde— an encounter I’ll surely experience in the next few days— that there is beauty in the end. In his last moments, my much younger self saw what expression he wore.” “He was content. The most content I had ever seen in someone's face.” “It was then that I had an epiphany. One that I hope my “husband” Neuvillette will remember, and I care not if it will bring him comfort or pain.” “What I learned was simple:” “Count no man happy till he dies, free of pain at last.”

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added on the other three fics!): @ayadikreino @kireeen, @pebblemacaroon, @thelostpanta, @vennnnn-diagram, @sagekun, @vadelma-yatta, @detectivei @sugarplumcutiepie @sunhareskies @dxprived4-starboys @unloadingdata @harmonysanreads (amen.) @atomicsoulhumanspy @sangoqueenkoko @pix-stuff @dilucragnidvr 

[waywardcrow]

All eyes on us.

Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.

Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.

How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?

A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.

“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”

“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”

She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.

“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”

Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.

“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?

Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.

“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.

Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.

“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.

“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.

Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.

“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.

“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.

Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.

True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.

“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.

The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.

Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.

“I love you, topolina”

“Love you too, Tony”

The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.

She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-

Bells stopped herself.

It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.

Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.

The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.

“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.

With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.

A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.

She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.

I'd do bad things with you >>>

Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:

-topolina: Little mouse.

-signorina: Miss.

If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?

Love, Lily.

[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. 

[magicaldestinyharmony]

When The Stars Align

regressed!duke x wife!female!reader oneshot (? it could be more idk)

Duke Ercan Revaz only ever loved one woman but she no longer exists. And it’s his fault. Well, if he wasn’t the only reason then he surely was a reason. He still remembers the first day he saw you. Standing under the moonlight in a garden looking like a goddess straight out of the founding myths of the empire. He stood, not far behind you, watching. Staring. You stood there in an elegant red dress with a champagne flute in your hand leaving the chaos and noise of the ball behind you. A sad sigh escapes your lips and, for some reason, he longed to hear your voice. At the thought, he freezes. He doesn’t understand the feelings flowing through him. He’s new to this sort of thing. Having spent countless years from one battlefield to another, he has zero experience with women. Another sigh from your alluring lips brings him out of his thoughts. He wonders, What is causing you to sigh so much? He then realizes that you were the woman who just publicly dumped her fiance. Your ex-fiance was a complete bastard. He was expecting orders to eradicate this nuisance to high society but you beat him to it and did a great job of ensuring he would never show his face again. He sees a woman approaching you which he recognizes as Countess Labelle. Countess Labelle calls you and you turn to face her. She must be your mother. he thinks. You leave with the countess. As he stares at your retreating back he feels that he must have you and he will make sure that once he does, you won’t be able to leave him.

Ercan now realizes that he went about making you his wife all wrong. Instead of trying to woo you, he did something that he still regrets. Using his power as a duke, he indirectly places your father in debt and demands that if he gets you as a bride, he will pay the debt off himself. Your father, bless his heart, tried to find other means to pay back the money but you stopped him and accepted the marriage. At the start of your marriage, things were fine. He never embraced you and always kept a distance, thinking that you might not have favourable feelings towards him. Still, you had a nice marriage. Things went downhill when he got sent to battle. You discovered papers with orders to place your father in debt in his study. Without him there to at least try to salvage the situation, your thoughts went wild. He came back to the report that you had tried to escape. He was frantic. Why would you try to leave him? He might indeed have placed you in debt, but he paid them off and also made sure that your family was well off. He found you bound to bed rest by the family doctor. You looked terrible. Pale and bags under your eyes. He got into an argument with you which ended with him confining you to your room. You resisted and your health took a hit. The day you died, Ercan regrets that the last thing he told you was a “Good night” and not “I love you” or anything similar. He woke to the balcony doors being opened. His blood ran cold. He ran outside only to see your disappearing smile over the railings. Ercan went mad. He lost you. He lost you. After the funeral was over, Ercan wished that he wouldn’t wake up again. He would rather die than face a world without you in it. He was surprised to wake up and find out that his wish had come true. Well, kind of. Ercan clenches his fist while he stares out the window of what used to be your shared bedroom. What will become your shared bedroom. I promise, this time I’ll never make the same mistakes again. I'll show you just how much you mean to me. This time, you won’t die in vain.

[respectthepetty]

I'm here to report on the colors in episode four of Wandee Goodday, but first a few stray thoughts like I have another image to add to my collection of Yak looking at Dee crazy,

yet still going along with whatever Dee wants.

Also, Yak being bothered that Dee didn't immediately think of him as a friend was a good beat in establishing the "friend" portion of their benefits. They are friends who share their lives with each other and scheme together, and I'm glad the show is explicitly stating that.

Because the way the conversation began paralleled the way Yak wants to approach Taem about their relationship - What are we? "Are we datin'? Are we fuckin'? Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that?"

But also the nurse stating Yak must care a lot for his lover to get the vaccine and Yak looking immediately at Dee was perfection because 1) safe sex isn't just about you but about the people you are sleeping with,

2) you shouldn't be ashamed of caring about sexual health, so even if you hide behind queer pamphlets, drink water, get the shot, wear the condoms, and use the lube. Also, PrEP isn't just for men just like HPV vaccinations aren't just for women, and

3) it showed that Yak does care enough about DEE, his lover, to take their sexual health seriously -> Yak is on that Bed Friend's King level of sexy, and I'd go through the entire Kama Sutra with them both once all our test results came back clear.

Translations are always iffy but Ter mentioning that Dee wasn't thinking about his professional persona while Yak reminded Dee to not include his face in the pictures and Yei mentioned his brother being fine with Cher when they first started dating gives me hope that this show is going to lean more into the layers of being out because even though that "666" told me Ter was el diablo, he continues to make comments like that and Golf's other show, The Eclipse (which has been featured often in this show) was very much about (not) passing and levels of outness.

Yei and Yak's dad was a world champion boxer, yet he wasn't mentioned in this mom-focused episode and the mom is the one who opened the gym, so is the space that Cher and Yei are giving Yak to figure his feelings out something they weren't given by the father? Because Cher was worried about the pressure Yei was putting on Yak to move up a class.

And if the gym was the mom's, with all of its yellow, is Yak really like his mom as Dee assumed?

Because putting the opening scenes in black and white is an easy flashback technique, but in this particular story, where Yak and his mom are bright yellow, it was a painfully good choice to take the color and brightness out of the scene.

And it was an even better choice to parallel Dee comforting Yak in the same way Yak comforted him with a warmer (yellow) light than his normal purple one.

Because Dee is already in his feelings about Yak without realizing how deep he was, which is why he is wearing a soft yellow while Yak is wearing Dee's fake blue.

When they practiced what Yak would say to Taem, Dee thought about all their moments together, so he is falling quickly, while the signs are pointing out that Yak isn't there yet.

But I wouldn't be there either if I was still daydreaming about this beautiful goddess who always rescues Yak with her brilliance, sassy personality, singular focus, and yellow folders, but that sounds a lot like someone else.

A Purple Prince who is also brilliant and focused on winning but wild and sassy. Good to know Yak has a type. (Sidenote: the music choices swinging between romantic to tension-filled as the scene flipped between Taem and Dee was another great choice)

Because Taem is taken, even if not officially. She matches her guy. She had on a dark brown and black shirt, so he had on a dark brown cardigan with a black tie.

And she had on a brown-striped shirt with a black star, and he had on a brown jacket with black writing and a black tie.

Then again, Dee is no consolation prize. Not looking like that at least.

No wonder Yak is conflicted about what he feels when he looks at Dee because he most certainly is sexually attracted to him because *duh* who wouldn't be attracted to Dee (TER!), but as they sit in Yak's black and yellow room, it becomes more apparent that whatever he is feeling isn't just sexual desire.

And when Dee scratches his back just like his mom used to while tutoring him, it starts to become clearer that Dee, wearing his necklace, and in orange which is sooooo close to yellow fits easily into his life. (Sidenote: Together with Me taught me that in Thai, being itchy is slang for being horny, so good for this show and its layers)

Dee works so well in Yak's life that Yak is willing to get three shots to continue to have sex with him which can take anywhere from eight months to over a year to complete because each dose is spaced out by at least two-to-six months. Basically, Yak committed to a long-term plan . . . with Dee, who is chilling in his yellow-striped shirt.

So it's not surprising that Yak is wearing a deeper blue next week as he holds Dee on the couch since he is far more invested in this fake relationship than he originally intended.

I could write 5,000 more posts about them and this episode which I probably will.

But know that even though the blue Yak is wearing is getting deeper, I will not be satisfied until it turns into purple.

That's when I'll know they are both in love.

[powdermelonkeg]

TotK theory, do NOT read until you’ve beaten the Dragon Tears quest:

We never actually see the Golden Goddesses in past games. We see effigies of them, like the three Oscars flying into the sky in Ocarina of Time, or the three identical Hylian statues surrounding the Triforce in Twilight Princess, or the three pearl-holding statues in Wind Waker.

We meet their oracles in Ages and Secrets, and help those oracles get houses in Minish Cap. We meet their agents, the Twilight Princess Light Spirits, or the Skyward Sword dragons, or the three protectors of the Goddess Pearls in WW.

Even in Skyward Sword, we only see their symbols, despite being in the time arguably closest to them.

And now, in present day, when only Hylia is still worshiped, we have Dinraal, Naydra, and Farosh. And thanks to Zeldra, we know how they came to be, to an extent.

We know they used to be mortal.

We know they had incredible power.

We know they sacrificed it for something.

A big question that’s always burned me since Skyward Sword is why did the goddesses leave?

Hylia didn’t. She stayed to help, stayed to fight until her last breath, then was reborn to try it again.

It always used to strike me as particularly cold of them that they’d ignore their youngest sister, even with all the power they clearly had at their disposal.

But what if they literally couldn’t help?

To become an immortal dragon is to lose oneself. They wouldn’t have even been aware.

Of course, why would an immortal goddess need to become an immortal dragon in the first place? Don’t they have everything?

Here’s my theory.

In TotK, we’re repeatedly told that the Zonai, when they descended, were praised as gods for their powers. And we know the Secret Stones amplify that power.

Coupled with the fact that we never see any consistent portrayal of the High Trio—

I think Din, Nayru, and Farore were Zonai.

I think they’re revered as gods because they descended from the heavens, as the Zonai were said to have been.

I think that their powers involved the terraforming they did to the world to make it habitable.

I think that Demise lived on the surface first, with the malice, with the gloom, and that the golden trio stopped his conquest of the surface peoples by force.

I think they swallowed their secret stones to keep them from being taken by Demise, since we now know what someone with even a fraction of his power is capable of doing.

I think when they became dragons, the power they shed in their wake coalesced into the Triforce.

I think Demise, when he waged war on the surface peoples afterwards, emerged from the Depths.

I think that Skyloft was Hylia knowing that the sky has always been safe, always been out of reach, and repurposing the lowest of the Zonai isles to protect them. Even though we know the Goddess Statue was on the surface originally, we don’t know where the rest of the isles came from—the Hylians rose with the statue, but spread to the other islands.

And I think that Demise telling Link that Zelda’s form pales in comparison to the magnificence of her former self is referring to the youngest Zonai sister’s former appearance. Because what a downgrade it must have seemed to him to watch one of the most powerful beings in the world, the one that sealed him away, turn herself into one of his prey.

[blingblong55]

Snow at the beach- John "Soap" MacTavish NSFW

Based on a request: Hi there. I wanted to make a request for something a bit personal. All this week, my family has been criticizing my weight (which I have struggled with my whole life) and told me point-blank that no one would ever love me because of it. That being said, I would like to request a writing with Soap. Let's say the reader has been avoiding sex with him for a while. They'll kiss and stuff, but as soon as he starts pulling her shirt up, she pulls it back down and makes some sort of excuse. This goes on for a while until Soap confronts her about it. She basically then goes off, pointing out all her bodily flaws and how fat and hideous she thinks she is and asks him how he could ever think she was sexy. And all he says is, “How can I NOT?” And he makes love to her and every time she makes a complaint about her body or calls herself ugly, she shushes her, ultimately taking her in front of a mirror and making her look at herself and how sexy she looks taking him. And when they're done, Soap should talk about how she's not fat, she's cute and squishy. ---- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, established!relationship, self!degrading, body!issues, unprotected!sex, plus size/chubby!reader ----

A/N: anon, I hope you find love from family elsewhere, there words are not correct because love is not by bodies, its by hearts and emotions. Anyway, I got carried away in the smut...love you <3

Three weeks ago, the issue started. Your family decided to visit you and your boyfriend, and that's exactly when they commented how he must be lying to you about loving you. Surely a man like himself wouldn't be with a girl like you. "A girl like me?" you asked and your mother nodded. You know, big…fat and if we are honest, ugly because your body makes you ugly, honey," she feigns kindness as she says this. You don't let her see how terrible her words hurt, so when Johnny and your family were talking, you excused yourself and walked to the bedroom.

In the comfort of the room, you cried, wiped your tears and fixed your makeup. What if they were right? What if Johnny was just trying to pretend to love you to get with a woman who according to them is beautiful? It's funny, watching yourself cry in front of the mirror when just that morning, Johnny watched you smile as you applied makeup.

Once they were gone and the night took over the skies, Johnny found himself sitting on the bed, waiting as his bonnie got out of her shower. He looks around, impatient because he knows how naturally beautiful you look after your showers. If it were for him, he'd create a temple just to worship you, because to him your beauty comes from within.

When you two lay in bed, he turns to you, his hands caressing your sides as his eyes look over your lovely goddess-like body. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in an ever-loving kiss. He places himself on top of you, his hands wandering into your shirt as they always do. Usually, this would bring butterflies but with the conversations held during the day, those butterflies were long gone from your system. All you could think about was the truth that you believed from the serpents you call family.

"Sorry, I'm…tired, Johnny, not tonight, okay?" you say and he nods. He is a gentleman after all so if you say no, that's where it ends and he just cuddles you to sleep.

After the three-week mark, his patience runs thin. You avoid his neck and shoulder kisses, you no longer sleep in the comfy tank top you like. You begin to distance the intimacy of tough he would provide. Of course, he would respect your desire to not have sex but he knows there is something more deeper than tiredness or lack of lust for him.

"Lass, what's the matter?" he asks one night and you sigh. It was time the truth lay in bed with you both. "I don't think we should continue this," you say, trying to keep distance. It was common for you to do this with men you thought were too good to be true for you, you break it off and regret it later. But he is different; you never see life after Johnny because he is it for you.

"Naw, we're no' daein this. Ye cannae just expect me tae accept this," he says with hints of sadness. "Johnny, it's not fair if you say with me. You don't deserve to be with a girl of my size-" you say and he cuts you off. "Don't ye dare finish that thought, bonnie. Ye're this incredible, gorgeous girl an' I'm one lucky bastard tae hae found ye afore another man did. I love ye, I love that silly wee mind, I love wakin' up tae ye beside me," he says and leans in. Your eyes try to play strong against the floods of tears that threaten to drown your eyes.

He takes your hand into his, placing it over his heart, "Ye're this smart, funny, stupid at times," he chuckles and goes on, "..look, whit I'm trying tae say is, I love ye. I dinnae see myself with some lass ye think I deserve, whatever that stupid thing meant. I deserve a bonnie that holds me close when I come home frae work. The kind of lass that takes me tae quiet places because she likes them, the kind of lass that makes me laugh so hard, the kind of lass I see masel' in fifty years," he says before he gets emotional and clears his throat.

"My mum always said, find yer other half, worry about their looks when they are sick and dinnae tell ye. An' damn it, y/n, I worry when ye get sick and don't smile, I worry when ye look in that damn mirror and think tae yersel' that yer body isnae enough. So dinnae tell me yer not enough for me when every damn day I find masel' worshippin' yer body like it's my religion. I fuckin' love you," he says out of breath as he looks into your eyes. His gaze is full of sincerity.

You shake your head. "I'm fat, even if I wanted to, there are things I can't do, I prefer dim lights for sex…I limit your life of adventure by being this way," you say with tears finally falling. "Look at me, I'm just not deserving of you. A guy like you doesn't just magically fall in love with a girl like me!" you say frustrated in wanting him to understand.

"Cut the bullshit, bonnie! I rather die for ye than any other girl! Cannae ye see that ye have bewitched my heart and soul with those sweet eyes and lips? That yer laughter alone makes me a madman when I cannae hear it? I have fallen for ye over and over, and if it takes me lifetimes tae make ye realise I'm the one that needs yer soul attached to mine, then I'll sit and wait for ye tae understand that." he holds both your hands by now as he pulls you in.

"You don't get it-!"

"Maybe I don't, but god damn do I love ye," he says breathlessly and cups your face and without a warning, kisses you like there is no tomorrow.

"Ye are the love of my life. Skinny, tall, fat, short, stupid or smart, I love ye and I fucking love this gorgeous body of yours," he says between pecks to your lips.

Your tears staining your cheeks as he wipes them away and makes you walk to the mirror. "Look at ye, bonnie. Men used to worshipped women like ye,…still do," he mumbles the last part.

You look at him and he smirks. He closes the door and bends you over the sink. "Just look at how I make love tae ye, yeah? If you dinnae believe I love you the way ye are, break up with me," he kisses the back of your neck, taking grip of your hair and slowly parts your legs, undoes your clothes and spits on his fingers.

The euphoria and anticipation built up in Johnny as he let out a chuckle, his hand sliding up your leg to grab your ass. "Yer goin' to make me a madman, ye wee temptress," he whispered, tilting your head down to kiss him. His tongue slithered into your mouth, pressing you against him more, feeling your fingers stroking his hard cock.

His hand slid back to your ass, squeezing it before he turned you around. "Bend over the table and show me that ass," he demanded, his voice a mix of desire and command. He was losing control, thinking of how tight and perfect your ass was. 

Your body is the perfect temple for his every loving heart and it's time he worships it again but better this time.

"Fuckin' perfect," Soap praised, eyeing your wet pussy and puckered ass. His cock twitched, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He stepped up, taking one of the lube from the table, unscrewing the cap after squirting it on his fingers. "Ease back against me, lass," he ordered, spreading the lube on your puckered hole.

"Take my fingers," he commanded, coating two fingers in lube before slowly pushing them into your ass. Johnny groaned softly at the sensation, feeling your muscles clench around his fingers. "That's it," he praised, his other hand fondling your pussy, slick with your arousal. The scent of sex filled the air, heavy and intoxicating.

"Come on, lass… Tease me some more," he growled, pulling his fingers out, his cock aching to fill you. Johnny stepped away for a moment to roll a condom onto his cock, grunting with the effort of restraint. When he stepped back, his eyes were dark and intense. "Slip those wee cheeks apart…" He commanded eyes on your ass. "Ye're mine, Y/N."

"Nngh," Johnny groaned, the sight of you eagerly waiting for him driving him over the edge. "Alright, lass, take it," he growled, pushing his cock against your tight entrance. He lined his tip against your tight pussy lips, feeling you quiver even more.

"Ye feel fuckin' amazing, ye know that?" He asked jaw clenched as he slowly pushed himself inside you. Your tight walls engulfed him, sending shivers down his spine. "Such a perfect lass," Johnny moaned, grinding his hips, a bit rougher into yours. He grabbed your hips, holding them tightly, feeling that you were made for his cock.

"Fuckin' take all of me," he growled, pulling back slightly before plunging himself in deep, the sound of their clothes slapping together, your moans and his grunts filled the air. Johnny began to thrust into you, each stroke harder and more intense than the last. His grip on your hips tightened, feeling a roughness in him, a need to claim you. "Ah, ye like that, Y/N…don't ye?" He snarled, his voice bordering on a roar.

His hand snakes to your throat, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your body and his move in a cosmically beautiful passion as he makes love to you in the best way he can. Your eyes lock with his, the love he has for you is evident in the soft eyes he gives you. He fucks you like a whore but treats you like the princess you are, and that's what makes this all so beautiful.

Your whimpers, mixed with that beautiful face that is riddled with pleasure makes him chuckle a little. "Oh, ye're beggin' for it. Ye dirty kinky slut," Johnny hissed, his hands leaving your hips, only to grab your hair, yanking your head back into an almost uncomfortable angle. "Take it, take my cock, and scream for me, lass," he demanded, increasing his pace, his thrusts harder, leaving no time to catch your breath.

He leaned down to nibble your neck, "You make me feel alive, ye know that, Y/N? I live for this, for the way I lose myself in ye, for the way ye take my cock so perfectly." Johnny's breathing grew ragged, "Fuck, ye're so tight, so wet."

"I'm gonna cum, deep inside ye. I'm gonna fill ye up," he grunted, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Cum with me, lass. Show me how you feel--" He didn't finish, unable to stop himself as they reached their peak together, his cock pulsing inside you, his cum filling your sweet pussy as he moaned your name, his pleasure ringing through the chamber. "Ah, Y/N…!"

You scream in pleasure his name, earning his pants to get rougher as he so gently kisses your neck. His eyes never leave that sight of you in the mirror.

"Nngh," Johnny groaned, his cock throbbing inside you as he waited for the aftershocks of your orgasm to subside. He waited for your body to steady, enough to pull out without making a mess. "Easy, Y/N," he whispered, slowly pulling out and tucking his spent cock away.

"Ye made me cum so hard, and I love every second of it," he praised, grabbing his clothes. Johnny lifts your chin to look at him. "That was… fuckin' amazing, lass," he admitted, unable to stop a grin.

He brushed the hair back from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Ye always leave me breathless, Y/N," he chuckled, a feral gleam in his eyes. 

Your face cooling down as you lean to his kiss your arms wrap around him so beautifully. He lifts you and smiles, "Ye believe me now?" he kisses your cheek and you nod. A moment like this, where you can sit naked in front of him, where it feels like a realistic romance movie, where the girl finds the guy that was made for her.

He truly does love you, no matter the size or shape…or even if others whisper venomous words into your ear. He is the land of peace in which your body has found comfort, the one man that in a sea of snakes and evil standards makes you feel at home, even if you wake up looking like a mess. In this world, he and you stick together, not for the looks or the vanity the world tells you, you must fit in. His love is rare, comes every few lifetimes, it's beautiful and weird like snow at the beach.

A/N: at the end of the day, you need to love yourself, no matter your size of if you meet society's standards of beauty because you are your own standard of beauty. I love you, but I'm sure your love for yourself is stronger <3 (which it should be) Also, only tagged those that let me know they are comfortable with plus size!reader pics and those that I believe dont mind it

Tags:

@honestlyhiswife @ikohniik @who-can-appease-me @konigssultwithghost @lovelyvqer @nobodys-coffee @the_royal_bee @luvecarson @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @anonymuslydumb