#Lord what fools these mortals be
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Philza is such a terrible bad guy. Smh it’s a miracle he ever managed to abduct Tommy to the faewilds.
One of my favorite scenes from Lord what fools these mortals be!
#I think I’ll revisit writing it#Since if I’m going to manage anything it’ll be something silly and fun#lord what fools these mortals be#tommyinnit#philza#angel duo#tommyinnit fanart#philza fanart#angel duo fanart#Mcyt memes#Mcyt#dsmp#angel duo fic#something to nom on
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https://at.tumblr.com/stovetuna/700049883526250496/immlt4w1bkoe
This is giving me major vibes from your theatre fic!!
NO LISTEN!! every time i see gifsets of this production, i just sit here and go damn, if my steve and tony came across as even a fraction of gay as these two did, then i'll have done my job correctly
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( o ) goodimpressionofmyself
[October 28th, 2020 7:40am]
bro, i’m some kinda necrocoprofungal fringe weirdo with a fetish for bein normal
i’m the punchline to a joke from 2005
my life is the vain pursuit of an ideal of sublime banality, this horridly tacky laudanum fugue of gilded wheat fields in subdivided painted picket houses, succumbed to oppressive concrete nothingness in a time that never was
the fury of a broiling beneath. dogs in an open field. vacancies within vacancies brah
primeval growth before the white man raped the land, gnarled and gambrous with all matter of shoots, bulbs, rosettes and spores. the wasteland of hollow points here in the heartland, ancient and centipeodal as the sea animals in the dinosaur books i read as a boy when everything was doe eyed and my head was filled with air. when i was yet to be so tantalizingly leaden
when i. simply. was still here
end of time. end of memory. thoughts comin and goin in strips a nitrate film
endless carousels a shape, bro. so many so lovely
so many the same
i’ll let you in. i’ll rest my hand on your back. i’ll lean in close and i’ll say brah, gonna show you some real sick shit brah
can’t help but smile
not smart to show fear. eye to eye. teeth to teeth. funk to funky. you’ll like it, i promise. the waltz always strangles. the wires in the notes. the house lights go up and down. spirographs of flesh. an orchestra pit of sarlaac. there always comes release after a dream turns to a nightmare brah
bro, i once saw this grindrshame post where this dude was like 6′2″, built and headless in an anonymous grey hoodie, and his bio said he was gonna strangle you and chop you up with an axe or some shit. people in the comments were saying he was funny. this ain’t shameable. shame on you for trying to shame a funny man with a nice blocky torso and big strong hands
i thought brah, fuck yeah brah, you get it. you get it. that’s what i want. walk straight toward the man triggerin just the right amount a threat detection response. we gonna fuck? he gonna choke me? how hard? i don’t fuckin know brah. one way to find out. i want a fire. baby i’m lit. pour gasoline all over my dick. harder bro harder. gonna burn this fuckin house to the ground bro. run screamin into desert night. wake up in a ditch clingin to you in grit and despair. look at you. know you. see past you. to the man you were before. who you forgot you were. who i know without knowin you know for i don’t know if what i see is what you know. then i realize. none a that matters. this moment is love and love is this moment. i remember only the smell of campfires and cold. you were the best mistake a my life brah. it was deffo more than worth the arson charges
bro?
yeah brah?
i didn’t think you’d be the kinda guy to go on night walks
haha brah? what’s that supposed to mean brah. i love all this dennis hopper shit. over there, look at that lamp post. that incandescent diner. reflections in empty windows. darker glasses hiding darker curtains. way the light ripples through the leaves. shit’s fuckin gorgeous, brah
city feels like a dream bro
brah? brah? haha, brah you ever dissociate like real hard
haha, like real hard
haha
brah
brah
for a second i thought we were like girls in a dreampop video brah
bro, don’t. don’t say shit like that bro. holy fuckin shit. for a sec i swear i felt my dick shrivel up bro
haha, kitty got claws, but i the aesthete and the visionary have the petrifying gaze of the gorgon embedded in the imago of the mother
brah, what the hell’s an ass teat brah?
it’s a dude who’s like a faggot, but he still likes pussy
don’t sound a thing like you brah
some tastes are more refined than others
the most refined taste is that of the fraternal platonic bond between men of value, whose warring passions ignite an agonsy and ectasies which blurs the lines between romance and reason
all right socrates, bend over
haha
hahahaha
brah
brah
i die a little inside when i see you smile brah
brah
i never thought i’d be so happy
…
BRO
holyfu–
haha, watch where you’re goin brah. dumbass almost got creamed by a bus
bro, sorry bro, i’m just like…
yeah, brah?
where am i… where are…
you’re there. i’m here.
…
bro, are you?
‘i’m here, you’re there’ sir, do you mistake me for a child?
my apologies, sir. your motor coordination spoke for itself
haha, real funny brah. real cute thing to hear from a tight toosh in tighty whities
haha, brah. someone’s feelin sassy brah
it’s just… i din’t think it was real funny brah
nah, nah. keep goin brah. you’re cute when you’re cunty
bro i am not cunty, that is gaslightin. i’ve been recordin this whole conversation, it’s admissible in court without your consent by illinois law, and i can establish a pattern and motive. i’m gonna sue your ass for emotional damages brah
first off double check that law book. it don’t say what you think it says. pause for effect. okay. when you check the book it’ll say exactly what you remember it saying, but you still second guessed yourself. boom. alpha dominance. you’ve been gaslit. gonna get locked in the footbox tonight, fagboy. gonna stain that fuckin faggot lung a yours with three days a heavy liftin and ballin… also ‘toosh’, bro are you a grade school church hag? are you gonna give me a time out? knock it off with that pansy shit, brah. we both agree my masculinity is sacred, stop tryin to subvert it with your estranged gayness
i’m in love with you bro. i hate it i hate how much i’m in love with you… if i admit to it, then i admit that i’m stupid. stupider than you in fact, because yes, i am in fact smart enough to know better. this is 100% my fault. my head says this’s idiocy, but my heart yearns for you with a yearning beyond yearning. it’s a heart valve of picture postcards all the way down my irony innards a chef boyardee spelling out EA Poet sole in bouquets a cankers and open sores… maybe i could only ever hope for self-destruction, to fall with you ever downward, to be the arc of a fire poppy riding the ember to completion. maybe that’s all love is bro. the theater of heroism. a stupid idiot danger. maybe my parents did have a successful marriage, but i’m not gonna say that… i’m not gonna say any of that. i’m gonna keep that all to myself
smart man, brah. that’s why i like you like you. down for a night walk symposia with a flourish of baudelaire for texture. reminds me a those ceilings in my house, brah. ones with the paintstrokes that look like canyons
[cachunk]
bro, did you just slap your head bro
bro, i dunno? did i brah?
bro, you did. you deffo did
haha, i did?
your headphones cachunked, didn’t you hear?
nah, brah, i don’t think… no wait, yeah i did, haha
haha
fuckin dumbass
dumbass meathead
dumbass meathead musclebull muscle toy andro droll androgeneticist muscle drone rubber drone rubber room retard ubermensch apeman grotesque gooner hunchback henchman dumbfuck douchebag dudebro
first of his name
king in the north
haha
hahaha
bro, stop i’m still in mourning
bro, it sucked since season five, bro
bro, how the fuck do you have your best character, the only character left who’s played by a competent actress – i’m sorry bro, that bitch with the caterpillar eyebrows cannot act. she has like white bread girl next door bimbo giggly and all the fury and drama of grade school gymnasium theater
bro, you are that, but the gay version
first off, fuck you fagboy. that’s two days in the footbox now. i’m gaggin you with the dirty crusty pair a briefs i use as a jizz rag faggot. gonna be tastin it all night fagboy, tastin my dirty alpha fuckin cock steeped in my tight white fuckin briefs. yeah, you love it. love watchin daddy’s uncut alpha bulge standin up tall and straight in his tight white fuckin briefs. watchin daddy’s hard uncut alpha cock writhin in the transparent cotton, growin fatter and nastier with every gush a blood – the mass and veiny contouring suggestive of a lunatic in a straightjacket confined to a prison a ballsweat, asylum walls of the fly some brutalist garter prison of mid-century ad copy suffocatin me in my futile role as protector and provider. yeah, you love daddy’s uncut alpha dick, don’t you fagboy?
yes, sir. please gag me with your briefs sir. i worship and adore you sir
you’re my everything bro. i wouldn’t know what i’d do without you without you in my strong arms keepin you safe and warm
bro
awgh
bro stop it bro
brah i’m a sensitive man, you know that brah. i’m really closer to a lesbian in temperament
fuckin gina gershon leather dyke
haha, you’re like a helpless lil pray animal, bro. i wanna rape you
sorry, brah. not feasible. definition-ally, one cannot rape the willing
objection. your honor, we have established the defendant’s mind is weak and malleable. upon the conclusion of our night walk i could throw him upon my svelte king size mattress, tie him wrist and ankle to the bedposts, and fuck him senseless – your honor, i could fuck him until he was drooling catatonic with eyes tuned out like television static, absolutely fry the circuitry of his brain with pleasure… and with but a mere suggestion make him think it was the most brutal of horrors, an utterly charmless display of freakshow primate dominance which would leave the skirts fallen from the hangers. i could have him bent over lobotomized 1950′s hysterical with a hole in the head from uncle sam, crying in his sad lil victorian woman way oh you foul man you foul man you absolute brute
i give up. i’m helpless to you
i am your toy. don’t break me
i’m weak
i need you
bro i need you
bro
bro
i was missin you real bad bro
brah i know bro
god i can’t fuckin st–
WOAH
the fu–
haha, b r o
eeeeee
bro you are clueless, bro
what wa–
bro, that weren’t no bus. that was a bus stop bro
which one of us am…?
which one of us am…? bro are you for real bro?
bro, where, where am
bro… bro
bro?
bro, pay attention. you listenin? i’m me, you’re you
bro, i’m…
bro? BRO?
…
bro?
‘i’m me, you’re you’. very instructional. very confucian. i have been enlightened. thank you. thank you very much. every moment we spend together is a treasure
bro, i know it. you know i got your back bro
it hurts bro. my head hurts. my feet hurt. my spine hurts. the bud of passion lies dormant in the embers exhausted. hold me close bro?
bro, you know it bro
mmphh
feels good don’t it bro
gooood you smell good brah
like that brah? like curlin up in daddy’s smelly meathead pits
mmmph. can smell you through the leather brah. mmmmmm fuck. wanna curl up in a bearskin rug made a more you brah
get in closer. i’ll crush you
please bro. crush me like a fuckin bug
mmmphhhhh
ahhhhhh
like that fagboy
i am an insect. i am unworthy. i cry tears of joy every moment i can smell you, see you, touch you, kiss you, you in all your earthly imperfections are what i deem a suitable enough surface onto which to project my unattainable ideal of exquisite manhood
it’s an horor, brah. use me. i’m a dumb mule fit only to serve and amuse you
flex, bro. i wanna kiss it
pffftt
hmmppph. god you’re a man. those fuckin pecs. flatten me like a migrant worker under a speedin freight train brah
haha bro what the fuck
a bray of laughter, wheezing forth like a geyser from dry reedy lungs – eyes dry reedy wells from which there are no tears to draw
i am the sun
i am the air
you’re a fire sign
a lemon lime
a soda pop
i’d rather not
please picture a barbershop quartet on fire
you were always the care
taker her sir
what a lovely image. how much did it cost?
twenty five cents, my good man
a pleasure, sir. i shall return tomorrow to view it again
why sir, you can view it anywhere
anywhere
anytime anywhere
anytime anywhere? good sir, what sorcery is this? is this one of those portable videographs i’ve heard so much about
why no sir, ’tis but the power of imagination
imagination, why what is that?
it’s when you get like pictures and notions in your head, sir
oh, that doesn’t sound typical. are you sure of that?
why yes sir. why i bet if we sat still and quieted down for a moment, we could picture all sorts of things
well… i suppose it is considered adventurous to try things once
okay… you ready…
okay…?
yeah? on the count of 3?
I
I I
I V
I I I
…
…
…
are we…
shhh… i was imaginin somethin
aw shi-
shhh
….
….
holy fuckin shit brah
bro. bro i know rite
are we allowed to do this? this can’t be legal
not just legal, bro. free
why isn’t everybody doin this? we have to tell the world!
can’t bro.
bro?
won’t listen
aw shit. what do we do now?
i dunno. we could light more shit on fire
the gumption i mire, i just wish you’d channel it more productively
hard, brah. nobody taught me how to be a man. i had to assemble it piecemeal from the shards of a collective stained glass mural detonated by the infobomb a mass media and bulldozed by the flatiron a neoliberal accelerationism
can’t tell if sperging or anime stoic
fuck off normie
my undiagnosed bipolar disorder grants me currency in your fucked up inverted mental illness values hierarchy, but joke’s on you, that’s the cost of the psychic heritage i carry, my drive towards shamanism. hear him, hear him, hear the voice of venus in cancer beyond the grave. can i getta 69 69 95 boy
brah brah
for i am a seer… for am i a liar…
BRAH
i am a seer i am a liar
haha, naw man. he’s fine. theater guy, they’re characters, you know
my father ran the prison
shhhh. slow down brah. you’re shakin. come ere. come to daddy. come get up in daddy’s leather where you belong
it’s not me, it’s the wind. the autumn wind. creeping listless upon my dream of an indian summer
yeah. that’s it. get right up in daddy’s pit
mmmph. like i’m bastin in your smell bro
yeah, that’s it. my heat and my musk. cocooning you. seeping into you. staining you. makin you more and more my good obedient beta boy. like that don’t you. like bein my bitch, don’t you beta?
yes sir
say it
i like bein your beta bitch boy sir
feels good to let daddy take control. just be a dumb beta for awhile and follow along. be a good lil boy for your alpha and obey mindlessly
yes sir
fuckin your head with my words. commands feel so fuckin good snakin through your brain, suffocatin any nerve bundles tryin ta resist
i’m weak sir. i’m weak. i need you. complete me. destroy me.
bro. bro. resist me. sustain me. complete me. i am an absence without you. this thing i am. this slightness. this frailty. it’s something no mass can overcome. the weight. a will no body could ever embody. do you see how i weep? i who was a beast who was a man dreaming he was a god
i love you bro
love you bro
love you bro love you bro
love you bro love you bro glove you bro globe you bro
we want you big brother
big brother
bro bro
bro
bro
bro, i wasn’t done.
bro, wha-
third, i am not autistic. fourth, even if i was, autism is not a mental illness, it’s a perfectly natural autoimmune response to unnatural vaccinations. my teats are the most robust and the milkiest. my pearl necklace houses the most cum. my boots are the most patent and the leatheriest. second, bro. they had their best fuckin character standin around on a balcony all season doin fuckin nothin. after season fuckin six bro, they took her absolutely fuckin nowhere, i don’t give a shit how much trashy pirate dick she didn’t get, it was all a waste
make a wish
we never kiss’d
tears’n the rain
it’s always the same
i know, bro. hurts to fall out of love. hurts not to care. run outta stories outta service
not gonna worry about that anymore brah. don’t plan on it happenin again anytime soon. it’s all very conventional. not anything new. nice to see it reheated like a warm stain. i would rather remember the bouquet of theses tastes of yesterday, not the bilge and bile they became
bro
Bro
delete me
d e l e t e m e
b r o
b r o
[screaming beyond the infinite]
what was i saying
that you loved me stupid
you loved yourself stupid, goonerboy
hey, look
what
porchlight’s still on
haha, fuckin dumbass
who you callin dumbass, dumbass
to sass and the spastic, forevermore shall your minds be plastic
whoooom
airplane exploding noises
tens of thousands of women and children dead
goddamn, i do love you stupid
maybe we should burn down some buildings
nother time brah. there’ll be other nights. other night walks
other nights other night walkers
bro
bro
don’t think this is gonna be no greetin card endin brah. you got no fuckin idea what’s waitin for you on the other side a that door. i could clamp a leatherclad paw over your mouth and crush your jaw into a bony fuck funnel for my uncut alpha cock. i could throatfuck you so hard i work my way right through nuttin your fuckin faggot brains out. i could rip your fuckin throat wideopen with my bare hands and garrot you with your own tongue i don’t see that fucker black with filth from the bottoma a my boots you dumb faggot. tomorrow i wanna see daddy’s alpha boots fuckin spotless, comprende motherfucker?
the door slams shut behind you
you’re not gettin the fuck back out for a good long while
better think
long and fuckin hard about what you let inside a you brah, fuck knows if you’ll ever get the stains out
haha
haha
night walks bro
fuckin night walks
[to the boys across the street on the golf course]
cocksucker
#I#eternally recurrent#canonical texts#dog brain#woof woof#--#big dick energy#big dumbass vibes#depressed thot energy#ludonarrative dissociative identity#baked af#i dunno#backwards cap bro#fuckin swole brah#dumbass himbro#douchebrahtrash#good meathead#good briefsboy#powerlifter build#nous vivons au cinema#alpha fux beta bux#entropy#silent majority#silence is golden duct tape is silver#the north wind#what the fuck am i reading#lord what fools these mortals be#bro love#intensely unstable energy#a courtly bromance
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*sneaks in quietly, whispering* hey. hi there. uhm. been gone for a while huh? been tired. and sad. getting better! still tired. not as sad! if we had threads that i didn't reply to yet and you want me to, please tag me in them? i forgot to save things in my drafts like the dummy that i am. .3. also lowkey gonna try and be more active on here. in case anyone is interested, might make a bg3 verse? might also make a bg3 character blog but like we'll worry about that later maybe.
#☾☁ ❝lord what fools these mortals be❞ ➤ ooc ☁☽#(i am mortal and i am a fool lol)#(mental illness sucks yo)#(been slowly reintroducing different rps back into my system again)#(time for tumblr/xia)#(i miss my girly)
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Always wondered why so many of Gale’s lines sounded familiar and as I was watching Midsummer Nights Dream I was like. OH YEAH THEY’RE PUCK’S LINES
#it took me 10 Minh test to write this post#we had so many free glasses of champagne#and then more fronkd after#I lovr open ing night. love being bestkee with a man that’s friends with the stage managet#art.txt#lord!! what fools these mortals be
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• Life •
Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.
CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Sukuna x Reader
AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic
Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.
And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.
To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.
The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.
Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.
Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.
Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.
"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.
"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.
"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.
"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.
Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.
Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.
But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.
"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.
"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.
"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.
That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.
His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.
"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.
#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#dad!sukuna#jjk#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x you#no use of y/n#true form sukuna#dad sukuna#jujutsu kaisen x reader#sukuna jjk
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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.
#I’m so nervous and petrified about posting this but knowing like me & three other angels will read this is all that matters#anyway I hate Gojo and here I am writing a 14k epic for him LMAOO peak clown behavior HONK HONK 🤡#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#Gojo x reader#Gojo 🩵
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“And, what is that you’ve brought my Lord?” The Vampire asking wore a feathered mask, jewels sparkling around his eyes.
You knew this was a bad idea. You can’t believe you let your fiance talk you into this stupid mess.
Other Vampires in high collars, frilly cravats and frillier wrist cuffs stalked past you. They didn't even try to hide that they were sniffing the air around you. Anything to get a whiff of the only mortal for miles.
Gripping onto the waxy hand beside you even tighter, your Vampire Fiance looked down his nose. “This is my partner,” he said, airily. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Heavens no!” the Vampire responded. He touched his long nailed hand to his chest, like he was clutching at his pearls. “I… I wondered why your tastes had such a sudden… Shift.”
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business.” And with that, you both left him, standing there.
This was an awful idea. You knew it from the moment you stepped out of the carriage. “Don’t pay attention to them.” Your Vampire whispered to you. His mask obscured his expression, making it more difficult to contextualise his tone.
You wanted to snap at him that it was easier said than done. But there was no way you could do that. The moment that the group of walking corpses realised that they may have a chance to devour you, they would pounce. And then you’d be in real trouble.
“What did he mean by that?” You whispered to him. The two of you stopped at the end of the large ballroom, watching as couples danced across the marble floor in stunning perfection.
Your Vampire didn’t take his eyes off the dancers, “he was trying to gage whether or not you were my food. I used to only dine on pretty young ladies like yourself.”
It was meant to be a compliment. Your fiance was bad at knowing what was appropriate to say to humans sometimes. You brushed it off. “Do they not see humans as being anything else?” you hissed, disdainfully.
“Some will only ever view humans as food.” Your Vampire shrugged. His eyes darted to you. “Some, like myself, enjoy the company that humans provide.”
“And what am I?” You shot back. It came out more aggressive that it was intended to be.
Your Vampire Fiance let out a small chuckle, “you still doubt me?”
You didn’t say anything. There was always that primal fear in the back of your head. Always ready, prepared to make a run for it had your Vampire Fiance gone insane with hunger.
“My darling dear,” His cold icy hands cupped your face, pulling you to face him. “You are one of the most precious and wonderful human beings in the world. I could never, ever dream about drinking from you.”
Looking into his eyes, you could see that he meant it. You knew he did. Your heart twinged.
“Let them all be fools,” his breath danced on your lips as he leaned in, “let them all be blind to what we are to each other.”
“But they’re-”
“Who cares if they all see?” And with that your lips met. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, masks colliding.
Although hundreds of disapproving eyes watched you, it was only you two that mattered.
#monster lover#monster x female#monster x human#monster x reader#monster x you#monster romance#vampire x reader#vampire#vampiric#vampirism#vampirecore#vampire boyfriend#vampire x human#monster boy
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Happy Birthday...!
feat. vampire!alhaitham
cw(s) : two dorks being too adorable, smitten alhaitham
wc : 1.4k
Every so often, Alhaitham could be found in profound contemplation in the study of his imposing mansion. Books strewn about, some half open and some in piles beside his chair and utop his desk—though the material of his perusal remains hard to deduce.
An amateur mistake would entail that Alhaitham wasn't in deep thought at all, but in a slumber and that could be credible, if you were to disregard his species' characteristics altogether. Though Alhaitham assumes a relaxed position, his senses are never in the same state of inertia. His ears pick up on tip-toeing footsteps, the vibrations registering as familiar in his sharp mind. These playful tricks could fool any ordinary human, not a vampire capable of catching the pressure applied in those pattering sounds.
He knows it's you, can predict you have a surprise in your hands and can envision the playful smile that must undoubtedly be stretching across your lips. But he does not move an inch, does not give any indication that he's aware. Alhaitham is not known for frivolity and neither would he be inclined to encourage such behavior if this was anyone else. Perhaps every action of an intellectual appears to bear some motive to the audience, or simply the intention is interpreted.
Nevertheless, Alhaitham continues to act his part, giving all the reactions you expect. Appearing to be startled when your arms wrap around his neck but before he has the chance to respond, you swivel in front of him after pressing a chaste kiss under his jaw. Turquoise eyes widen, for that he didn't see coming. He can only thank that blood never rushes to coat his skin pink as you stand in all your giddiness before him and dear vampire lords, are you the brightest.
“Happy birthday!”
The vampire blinks, vacillating between your expectant expression and at the ‘gift’ you eagerly present to him.
Ah, so that's the occasion. Alhaitham has always thought that humans were a bit too passionate about celebrating the day they were born. Such customs are not performed among his kin, for a vampire's ‘birthday’ is just a bitter reminder of their eternal damnation. But, you don't know that. Tied to your mortal sentimentalities and well wishes ; he knows of your sole and innocent wish to make him happy.
So, he carefully takes the wrapped object in one hand and grasps your outstretched palm in the other, gently guiding you to his lap. His unbeating heart swells when you follow him without the slightest hesitation.
“Thank you, what is the gift?”
“No no, you aren't supposed to ask me that, Haitham! You have to open it yourself.”
You chide him with a raised finger and one of his brows quirks up. He's still not yet accustomed to every nuance of human behavior but, for you, he continues learning.
“Apologies, let me correct myself then.”
Alhaitham undoes the ribbon and wrapping paper, putting them aside to feel the coolness of the ceramic mug on his hand. Orange pupils squint to capture the details, turquoise painting and the words ‘best vampire’ boldly printed in black in the mug's body.
“Do you like it?” your hopeful tone snaps him out of his inspection. If this had been even fifty years ago, he wouldn't have stopped a confused frown from showing. Or, if the object had been handed by someone else, he wouldn't have considered it anything less than a joke.
“I...yes, I do like it. I wasn't aware that I was the ‘best vampire’ in your eyes. But then again, have you met other ones?” Alhaitham asks smoothly, feigning indifference to the sardonic prospect that you might have.
“Not at all! But you know the stories of vampires everyone tells, they're usually so scary, mean and selfish. You're none of those, you're intelligent, calm and have the softest heart—which is why, you're the best.”
Alhaitham appraises your confident answer with a humorful look, surely you must not think he's like this with everyone else? But, he doesn't correct you at all, feeling almost inebriated by your heartfelt words. It's also a bonus that his ego swells, he's still like any other man in some aspects.
“You know, I actually wanted to add a mosquito and bat sticker to the mug.”
That yanks Alhaitham out of his bliss.
“A.. mosquito?”
“Yes..? Aren't you essentially an overgrown mosquito? You know, both of you rely on blood to survive?” you question innocuously, shifting in his lap nonchalantly.
Alhaitham's jaw slackens, not knowing whether to be offended or amused. If this was inquired of any other vampire, you would not be able to get a second sentence out. But, he identifies this as a lack of knowledge and decides informing you would be best.
“That is a grave misconception. Because only female mosquitoes drink blood, during the time they bear eggs, more precisely.”
Your mouth forms an ‘o’ shape in understanding, quickly morphing to a sheepish expression. “I’m really sorry…”
Alhaitham waves it off, pausing when he remembers something, “You also mentioned a bat sticker, why?”
This time you look up at him in barely restrained excitement, “I've wanted to ask this for the longest time! You can transform into a bat, right?”
“No, I can't.” your shoulders slump slightly.
“Then.. will you turn to ash if you come into contact with sunlight?”
“While prolonged exposure to sunlight can kill a vampire, we've evolved to be able to withstand marginal exposition. It's not as deadly as the movies portray it.” your expression falls but he notices some semblances of relief. Huh, were you worried for him?
You try again, “W-well, will you die if you eat garlic?”
“Garlic makes me allergic. Its scent is pungent and irritating. Not much different than human allergies.”
This time, Alhaitham doesn't bother masking his amusement at your pout, “Was everything I've known about vampires a lie?”
One of the first traits Alhaitham had noticed about you was your curious nature and eagerness to learn new things. You'd always be on the lookout for an opportunity to ask him questions regarding his vampire roots in particular, preferably when you deemed he was in a good mood. Most of the time though, you opted to make your own observations. It seemed both of you were the most interesting creature on Teyvat in each other's eyes.
The vampire puts the ceramic mug aside on the table, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. He tilts up your downcast face with a finger beneath your chin, “It's not your fault that human media portray vampires in that particular light and weave these stereotypes. You know only what you've been shown.”
Ashen locks tickle your skin, “You’re not mad at me..?”
“Not at all.” how could he ever be upset with you?
Alhaitham sighs in relief when your smile returns in full force, turquoise eyes slowly shift to your neck, the pulse there beating with the essence of your psyche. A frown marrs his impeccable features as a thought passes by his mind. Humans cherish every year of their lifespan due to the limitation of it. They're fragile, susceptible to the whims of time. But instead of lamenting their inevitable end, they choose to celebrate and foster the memories acquired within their short lives. He's not subjected to the same laws, the shadow of death will not fall upon him as a result of old age.
He'd pondered about this mortality but never worried about those subjected to it. However, as he feels the warmth of your body envelop his cold one and cradles this vessel of the purest soul he's encountered — he can't stop a bolt of paranoia from racing down his spine. What would he do if he could never hold you again like this?
His thoughts are interrupted when he feels your arms around his shoulders again, your warmth presses against him. For a moment, Alhaitham stays still and stunned, all his senses focusing on your proximity, your scent and the beating of your heart. You don't say anything more, letting all your reassurance seep through that sweet embrace. A canopy of serenity drapes over the vampire and he returns your hug to imbibe these feelings deep in his soul.
His hand brushes along your back a few times before coming to a halt, “[ Name ],”
“Yes?” your hum tickles the skin of his shoulder.
“Are you wearing my shirt?”
A beat of silence passes, Alhaitham was so caught up in the flurry of events that he completely missed the white shirt hanging loosely on your figure. Albeit, he's anything but irritated at this revelation, you could take his entire wardrobe and he'd thank you.
“Teehee~”
Alhaitham places a reverent kiss on your pulse, smiling as your mischievous giggle reaches his ear.
Just for this moment, he supposes he can forget the rules and restrictions of this wretched world and indulge in your presence.
[more vampire!alhaitham content]
#whenever i write for him it feels like my fingers are automatically moving#the grip he has on me is embarrassing whew#alhaitham x reader#al haitham x reader#alhaitham x you#al haitham x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#alhaitham#al haitham#vampire alhaitham#vampire al haitham#vampire alhaitham x reader#vampire al haitham x reader#genshin fluff#happy birthday alhaitham 2024#genshin impact#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham brainrot
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I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.
Like.
Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.
What isn't there to love?
You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?
Cause I can.
And I will.
The Diverse Working Enviroment
Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.
You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.
Buckle up we got you covered.
You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?
Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.
You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?
Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.
Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.
Sustainability
Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.
Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.
The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.
Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.
In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.
Nothing goes to waste!
Unmatched Leadership
Last, but certainly not least.
The man.
The myth.
The Legend.
Huron Blackheart.
Aka Lufgt Huron.
Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.
Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.
The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.
Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.
He does not care.
He probably wears this when he wants to relax.
You think he cares?
He does not care.
He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.
They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason
(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)
no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.
Is that a bit extreme?
Yes.
You think he cares?
He does not care.
The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...
to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.
So they decided on.
Kidnapping Guilliman.
Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.
But still.
The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.
Who in the galaxy can turn and say.
Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅
Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?
You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?
Where do I sign up?
I don't need ink for a signature.
I will use my own blood.
#warhammer#warhammer 40000#warhammer 40k#wh40k#shitpost#red corsairs#chaos ultramarines#chaos space marines#games workshop#black library#huron is the chaos ultramarines representation we deserve
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Every Literary Reference Gale Makes When Selected in BG3 (That I Could Find)
"Oh, what a tangled Weave we web!" -
A play on words referencing the famous quote, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive," from Sir Walter Scott's poem "Marmion."
"What fools these mortals be." -
A quote from William Shakespeare's play "A Midsummer Night's Dream," spoken by the character Puck.
"All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it." -
A reference to the famous Shakespearean line, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players," from "As You Like It."
"No rest for the wicked" -
A phrase that originates from the Bible Isaiah 48:22 There is no peace, saith the Lord, unto the wicked.
"To hold the world in the palm of one's hand" -
I believe this is a reference to this part of the poem Auguries of Innocence by William Blake:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
"'Doth thy mirror crack?' Apparently not." -
I was so sure this was a quote from some Shakespearean play but nope lol. This is a Waterdhavian phrase that was mentioned in a DnD companion book at some point.
"Seek and you shall find me." -
From the bible. Specifically Matthew 7:7–8
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
The path less travelled. -
A reference to Robert Frost's poem "The Road Not Taken," which includes the line, "Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by."
"Creator. Destroyer." -
This is a reference to the Lord Krishna's words in the Bhagavad Gita.
O Arjuna, I am the creator, maintainer and destroyer of all created objects, such as the sky. Of all knowledge I am knowledge of the self, and in logical debate I am vāda, the philosophical principle that asserts the conclusive truth.
"A rough tempest I will raise" -
I found the explanation behind this quote from a reddit post:
"Shakespeare - Tempest, - this is a mash-up of two quotes: In Act V, Scene 1, Prospero uses the phrasing "when first I raised the Tempest". In the same scene, he recites a soliloquy about the great works of magic he has accomplished, before finally renouncing magic altogether: " … But this rough magic I here abjure" https://www.reddit.com/r/BaldursGate3/comments/17uher2/literary_references_in_gales_selection_remarks/ (this person came to the same conclusions as me for many of the prior quotes but I only used their post for this one haha)
I almost certainly missed a few! If there are any others please feel free to reblog and add them!
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#literature#bible#bhagavad gita#walter scott#shakespeare#william blake#robert frost
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2/3 chapters up. Technoblade and Wilbur vow to rescue Tommy from the hands of the fae, and end up delivering themselves into the hands of Lady Death. She’s mysterious and wily, but they pass her impossible trials less with flying colors and more so extremely reckless and endangering creativity. But that’s only the beginning of their obstacles to Tommy as the pair find they have to survive the deadliest challenge of all: domestic life with a helicopter mom Fairy Queen.
(And given the murmurs of both the Court Wilbur frequents and the souls that linger around Techno’s head, surviving is going to take everything they’ve got.)
#Can’t believe I forgot to drop this artwork at the original announcement#I figured I’d make use of the fact I literally wrote all of this by hand rip#I am plagued by visions#Sbi#sbi fanfic#angel duo#angel duo fanart#sleepy bois inc#Philza#kristin minecraft#mumza#tommyinnit#technoblade#wilbur soot#mcyt#mcyt fic#fairy au#twins duo#something to nom on#Lord what fools these mortals be
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real master of the cult shows up, they're eerily similar to monster reader, feeling surprised at finding another fellow of their species, simply deems it so that the monster reader HAS TO BE their designed mate
Otherwise, why would they look alike so much? They're destined to be intertwined together!
(light body horror)
Foolish creatures. To be so easily led astray meant they were nothing more than lambs to the slaughter. Trapped bewteen their reality and the next, the cult's true master could hear their celebrations to its very core. Their disgusting misguided joy mocks the beast in its pathetic state; its control on their minds weakened now that they've found new faith. No matter. The fools had done enough in their own right that their aid was no longer needed.
Black smog trickles from the fire in the center of the room. The ash in their air solidifies and conjoins into small crystals that float into the vivisected body on the alter. Its glassy eyes fog over, limbs spasming as the forgien angents poke at its blood deprived brain. Their legs sweep over the side of the table; the lack of organs making the body light and easier to control.
The corpse picks up the bowl next to where it lie, blood sloshing down the sides and over its limbs. It stumbles toward the fire and chucks the harvest in bowl and all. As the flames lick the ceiling, the body goes limp and subcome to the heat as the smog leaves and rejoins its true fold.
-
"I'm full, please!"
You use a claw to keep a stray fork from invading your personal space, much to your follower's sadness. Weak to their puppy eyes, you exhale and steal the bite of breakfast off their plate hopefully before the other's notice, but of course they do.
"My Lord! Would you like to try mine next?"
You moan in defeat. How things have changed. You went from not knowing where your next meal would come from, to being stuffed with home cooked foods daily. You felt horrible for tricking the camp, but in your defense you tried to tell them you weren't their god. The hopeless saps wouldn't here it, falling for your charms even when the veil began to rise. World domination could wait a year or so while they got you comfortable to life in the compound.
A loud boom rocks the entire cabin.
"̸W̵h̶e̶r̴e̷.̸ ̸I̷s̵.̵ ̶I̶t̵?̴"̷ ̷
Panic and confusion spread through the entire table, you all hurry outside to see the cause of the fuss. Fire pours from the main cabin's doors, injured cultists picking their fallen comrades off the ground and to safety in the trees. A large creature wrapped in shadows destroys the remaining foundation of the cabin as it squeezes past the frame, lifting the frightened human in its grasp to dangerous heights as it hiss.
"Where is the one you betrayed me for!"
"Th...ere." The cultist points over to you. They're lowered closer to the ground before being roughly discarded. You can see the deity turn in your direction.
"You."
Its upon you in the matter of seconds, daggered claws rearing to tear you in two as soon as it spots you, but- those eyes. They're just like theirs.
As you cower, it takes a long look at you. Teeth as black as coal, the spilt in your irises. Bit on the small side and lacking horns, but there's no doubt that you're the same breed. The creature thought that the cult's new ruler would be a slick talking mortal, not this.
"You... you're...."
The shadows shrink. They take your jaw in their palm, the anger in their eyes fading as the same realization they had flashes in yours.
"Perfection."
The deity coos as it pulls you in. "Oh, what an adorable creature you fools have discovered. I should smite you all and every member of your blood lineage, but I can't since you've found me such a delicious mate."
Mate?
They pull down the collar of your shirt. "This scar proves of our bond for I bare a similar burden. Tell me, love. How did you come by it."
You cover the scar with your arms. "Bad humans... Researchers."
Its eyes darken, a comforting hand gripping your shoulders. "I am the same. We have solace in that, and being the only remains of our kind. Even if the ancients prevailed, I have a feeling there'd be no better match for me than you."
Groans of pain remind you of the damage they've caused. You struggle in their grip.
"Oh? Are you fond of these insects, love? Do not worry. I may be weak, but I have enough power to restore their health and I will do so.. for a price.
#monster reader#Yandere cult#yandere oc#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#yandere headcanons#yandere insert#yandere blurb#yandere harem#yandere teratophilia#yandere drabble#yandere monster#yandere god#yandere x darling
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𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞'𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲
happy vals day babies!!!!<333
here's how you'd spend valentines day with each of the men from pete's place!
this is just short and sweet, a little gift for being inactive these past couple weeks!! am finally feeling a little better- just dealing with some wisdom tooth painnn. anywaaaaaay, enjoy besties<33
let me know your favourite! mwah!<3
✧.*ೃ⁀➷ pete's place | the intro | opening night | the playlist ༊*·˚
*this is an 18+ space. minors are not welcome here.
*this is a dark au. there are no happy endings here.
✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐚𝐫𝐢
✧.*ೃ ari plans a night under the stars. a complete surprise. led out blindfolded, mouth wide at the sight.
✧.*ೃ handmade fort, soft pillows and blankets. picnic and wine. portable speaker playing your favourite music.
✧.*ೃ of course you spend time between his thighs in return, he wants to make sure you're not able to speak the following day (mainly so you can't rat him out on what a romantic he is)
✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬
✧.*ೃ holy hell. the brute can cook. like, really cook. candlelight dinner, and everything is personally made by curtis. paired wine, matching outfits, fairy lights and roaring fireplace.
✧.*ೃ while dinner is spent mainly in silence, it's one of those times you welcome it. it's comfy. he makes it comfy. footsy under the table, soft smiles and bashful laughter.
✧.*ೃ but don't worry. you'll soon remember of why you fear him. a little chase after dinner? how could you possibly? and that's exactly why you're told to run, and may the good lord help you when he does.
✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞
✧.*ೃ sweet stevie would plan a little book/painting date. he'd decorate the manor library, pick out some of your favourite books. gets your favourite drinks, snacks, pastries, etc.
✧.*ೃ the night spent giggling away while you read your book aloud while steve sketches/paints you, until you end up watching a sappy movie while cuddled on a fuzzy rug, snug under a blanket.
✧.*ೃ hands roam, finding their way under clothes. soft kisses turn into burning need.
✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞
✧.*ೃ rock music, beer, pjs and games! it's a night filled of mario kart, mortal kombat, etc. knocking each others controllers, hurling insults and giggling like children.
✧.*ೃ pillow fights, play fighting that leads to you pinned on the couch, shrieking and laughing as jake tickles your sides, goading you to go back at him.
✧.*ೃ of course this leads to some fucking right there on the couch, jakes filthy mouth, your obscene moans mixed with the loading screen of a game and the music.
✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞
✧.*ೃ in his sick little head, i think the man believes he's doing a nice thing by buying you a shit-ton of lingerie and asking you to model it for him while he gawks at you like an utter perv. damn the fact he's got a nice dick and knows how you use it bc damn it you're modelling your ass off to get it.
✧.*ೃ of course he wants a lapdance while you tell him what a perfect man he is, how grateful you are, how much you need him.
✧.*ೃ it's only when you're bouncing on his cock that he's spilling on the fact all he thinks and breathes is you. how lucky he is to have you, how much he adores you. kinda sad he'll deny it if you were to ask him about it the next day.
✧˚ · .ೃ⁀➷ 𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝
✧.*ೃ if you thought you would be doing anything else other than knelt at this man's feet then you are a damn fool and you deserve it tbh. let's not pretend that's a bad way to spend vals day, anyway.
✧.*ೃ however, you're getting alllllll the pet names and praise. he's strangely lovey. more handsy, hits a little softer, sounds a little sweeter. biggest shock is when he thanks you for all the depravity you allow him to inflict on you.
✧.*ೃ you're helped in the shower, dressed comfy for bed and cuddled in his arms after a longgggggg session. it's nice.
#pete's place#chris evans#lloyd hansen#ari levinson#pete brenner#steve rogers#curtis everett#jake jensen#lila writes#lila's fics#cevans#chris evans au#dark au#dark verse#chris evans smut#ari levinson smut#curtis everett smut#jake jensen smut#steve rogers smut#pete brenner smut
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👀 so uh. Besides lots of health (physical and mental) issues going on, apparently my tumblr app got messed up which is how I get all my notifications when I’m in slumps and whatnot… so uh. Sorry for my absence 😭 life sucks sometimes, you know? But I’m always thinking of Xia. Like all the time haha. I’m going to be lingering for a while as I work myself back up to wanting to rp. Mental health has been good lately but physical health could definitely be better, so I take the good days when they come. Hmu for whatever. 💜
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Record of Ragnarok Poseidon x Zhongli reader.
(There are two parts. I would advise you to watch both parts and read the description)
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=0q1IVI9l0l4&t=195s&pp=ygUfcmVjb3JkIG9mIHJhZ25hcm9rIHJlYWN0IHRvIHkvbg%3D%3D
-Poseidon didn’t know what to make of you, when he first met you, only in passing. You were a human, someone beneath him, but there was something strange about you, something off.
-Normally he couldn’t care less, but for some reason he couldn’t get you out of his mind, your face kept appearing, and it brought forth more questions of why he was thinking about you and why you didn’t give him any peace, not even in his dreams.
-His brothers and those serving him could tell that Poseidon was more irritable than normal, but many knew not to ask, not wanting to upset him any more than he actually was.
-Poseidon told his servants to look into you, wanting information and they did feel bad for you, thinking you had earned their lord’s ire and now he wanted to know how to destroy you.
-As the reports came in with the gathered information, Poseidon only grew more irritated, learning your name was YN, and that you were pretty bad with money, like you didn’t know how it worked, but you were very smart and elegant.
-He couldn’t understand what was so special about you!
-Poseidon tried stuffing this annoyance, to him, down, trying his hardest to forget about you, but you always seemed to worm your way back into his thoughts.
-That’s when Poseidon took matters into his own hands, seeking you out, watching you from afar, trying to figure out your secrets, wanting to know what made you so special.
-Poseidon had to pause, realizing his thoughts, thinking you as special and he grew irritated as he was embarrassed, feeling like a lovesick fool wanting your attention.
-You were a mere mortal, he should be vying for your attention, you should be the one that’s grateful for his attention!
-Poseidon went to approach you finally, wanting to put you in your place for the strife you’ve caused him, when he paused, seeing you surrounded by a group of demons that managed to escape from Helheim.
-Poseidon went to act, knowing Hades was going to be pissed to find out demons got out and killed mortals, but he paused, as you didn’t look bothered in the slightest, you almost looked bored!
-A wave of power erupted from you and Poseidon stared in amazement, feeling the power as you showed your true form, a hidden god, many knew you as Morax, before you easily took care of the demons before retaking your human form.
-Poseidon approached, “That was impressive, Morax.” You turned, not realizing there was a witness before you saw Poseidon, “Y/N is fine, Lord Poseidon. Are you the one who has been watching me lately?”
-Poseidon refused to answer but you saw his hesitance, which did make you smile softly, bowing your head to him in respect before going to leave but he reached out and grabbed your hand, “Wait- tell me, why do you disguise yourself as a human?”
-His question was surprising but you just gave a small smile, “To see through the eyes of mortals. I know what it’s like to be a god, but I wanted to experience life through the eyes of a mortal, to see what it was like to be powerless against the gods.”
-Poseidon’s eyes were wide, listening to your explanation, which did make sense, and it made him realize that there was such a big difference in the strength between gods and mortals.
-Poseidon surprised you once more, inviting you for coffee, as he wanted to know what you had learned during your time as a mortal, and as a sly way of speaking more with you.
-You didn’t say anything, but you couldn’t help but smile, realizing what Poseidon was doing, he was so cute when he was shy like this.
-Little did you know, now that Poseidon knew the truth, he wasn’t going to ever let you go.
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