#because tis the maiden !
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Mad and angry at how these two joke side characters try so hard to be heteronormative but they really aren't and that's where most of their misery comes from. not all of it but most of it, like it very much keeps them in the cycle, because they seem desperate to find a happy storybook ending and this is how they think they'll find it, by trying to be like the same characters that found that happiness. its never addressed but also painfully obvious with how much they don't fit in with the other npcs dear god these characters are queer coded to hell i could write an essay (i accidentally did)
its not even like bretta and zote are straight cis characters these two are bi and aro canonically but its more to do with the gender roles they're trying to replicate, and failing. they suck at it. he is not this emotionally stoic resilient lone knight he is in fact continuously fighting his emotional pain and if you give him the right attention he will stay forever. he'll get angry that you saved him or that he needed your help because YOU dont fit in his story. she's not a forgiving accepting loving damsel in distress she can take care of herself great and will also drop you like a hat if she sees even one flaw in you. because then YOU dont fit her story either. they care so much about their stories because they reinforce the identity they think they're supposed to have but they're also so disconnected with themselves BECAUSE of these gender roles that they dont realize it makes them miserable
the biggest cause for this is that they are lonely isolated individuals and dont understand or know enough about real people so they have to go off their storybooks and it only keeps them alone. its like you have to be stubborn about saving them and staying by their side so they can get that chance to change and thats exactly what the knight does. its stubborn as hell it will save them again and again and it will fight their dumbass crushes as many times as it takes to make them realize what they're doing is painful. and bretta gets that chance, she leaves the town that isolated her and goes to find something better, most importantly she gets experience. zote gets to stay alive, which is the best thing you can do for him. because now he might get to face his pain, whereas in death he never gets to overcome it, just escape it
its also very funny that when the game pushes them together in this fake relationship its purposely depicted as completely ridiculous and an obvious parody and you also have the chance to beat it to the ground multiple times. whereas the two more meaningful love stories that you get to help happen are mlm and wlw and completely unapologetic about it this game is GAY
#long post#not normal about them sry sry. they're just your typical everyday knights and maidens lalala#like its been a while since i played hk so i could be off but this is the impression i get from both of them everytime#they're a criticism of traditional fairytale love stories and tbh#im not the best when it comes to gender analysis im like clueless about my own. but i am at least 100% about the fact that#brettas ver of their relationship is a parody. it only exists to make fun of inane fairytale romances#so bretta's character says a lot about gender and zote's says a lot about trauma#both things that exist because they were isolated. love loses#idk but they dont seem like surface level characters to me at all. there's always something to say#on top of them being there to have something to laugh at which i do girl.. i do. they're so silly#but i always felt like there was something that tied bretta and zote together aside from their delusions and i guess its this#btw im tired im gonna rewatch tlou s1 its been a few months also its really good.. apocalyptic media my weakness
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these were saved 04 the starry-eyed 01 , && she doez adore them veri much ! she thought she would share ~
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Hey anybody going to talk about rescued sacrificial maidens. Like yes a guy with a fuck off sword turned up and so you're not getting fed to the dragon/water creature/mountain spirit/vague embodiment of all things scary and you get to go back home, but is that really home? Your mom hugs you and your dad says he's so happy you're alive and you know that when they said they'll do anything to keep you safe they didn't really mean it. They have a feast prepared and you get to taste what they cooked for your funeral, help wash the dishes after. And it's selfish to think that between the whole village with everyone in it and you they wouldn't pick the lesser evil but it still leaves an emptiness in your chest, knowing exactly how much your life is worth. And the neighbors smile at you awkwardly and the neighbors' kids yell "hey! I thought you died!" because they don't know not to do that yet and maybe you did. Maybe you did.
And the hero with the fuck-off sword rode off into the sunset the way they always do but you're still here and you herd the cows by the cliff where you were tied up in your cleanest clothes waiting to not be alive anymore and sometimes you think that would be easier and when you don't come back one day, you can imagine it's a relief for everyone involved. Maybe you'll be the new thing to haunt the mountain, or maybe you'll follow down the road and listen for cries that sound like yours did. Either way, there's little left to fear. You know exactly how much your life is worth.
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Shanks & his Empress of Amazon Lily.
Summary: Just as every former Empress of the Maiden Island had succumbed to a love sickness, you were not the exception.
Idea: Shanks / Empress of Amazon Lily
2594 words.
After Shakky departed from Amazon Lily due to her love sickness, her position of power had fallen onto you. As the new Empress of the Kuja Tribe and the Captain of the Kuja Pirates, you upheld the image as the island’s pinnacle of womanhood. You were a rose that stood apart from the rest of the garden, though every rose has its thorns as well. You were respected, admired, yet also feared across the seas all the same. Creating a reputation as a notorious Pirate Empress created instances where individuals or groups were seen as fools to challenge someone so formidable, this current event in particular being one of them.
The Kuja Pirates were presently docked at an island in the East Blue rich with agriculture, stocking up on a multitude of food supplies for the venture back towards Amazon Lily. Unfortunately for you, a particular red-haired captain and his crew happened to dock at a harbour on the other end of the island. This placed you in your current predicament, the stallholder felt nervous as he watched the two captains in anticipation, wondering whether he should intervene or not. You glared at the man in front of you as he did the same, both so thoroughly invested in intimidating the other for a fresh batch of lobster… Besides that, you knew of the captain standing in front of you to be Red-Hair Shanks. He was a pirate recently gaining more attention because of his battles against Marine Hunter, Dracule Mihawk. His trademark besides his striking red hair was the straw hat, shading the rugged look he had.
Meanwhile, Shanks– while glaring at you– had been attentively observing the details of your face. Like you have heard about him, he has heard twice as much about you. He’s heard about your strength and accomplishments that have made you the threat you are today. Though he’s also heard about your beauty and grace, like a rose covered in thorns, prickling anyone that dares to cross you. He thought of you as a dangerous beauty, with your eyes as the most striking feature. Shanks imagined you’d make an amazing addition to his crew even if you already had one of your own, it couldn’t hurt to ask, right? But it did hurt to ask, just a little. He watched as the tension in your shoulders fell as a look of shock and confusion harboured your face, before bursting out into a fit of laughter, a pleasant mix of disbelief and amusement. Shanks felt rather flushed but quickly sank the feeling down as he took in the joy that was in your laugh. He found it endearing. So once again, he asked– not for you to join his crew– but for you to join him in walking around the island while gathering supplies.
He watched as a flash of hesitancy crossed your face, but chose to wait for a verbal answer. You, after gaining quite a good laugh from the man, felt a slight pull towards him. You were intrigued by the enigma presented before you. The newspapers formed a rather serious and unapproachable impression of the red-haired captain, though it seems to be quite the opposite now. You wanted to take a walk with Shanks, but as a resident of a Maiden Island, particularly being its Empress, you weren’t expected to casually frolic with that of a man. However, when you thought back to the stories you had heard from your former Empress and her experiences with the man named Rayleigh, you wanted to see if you could experience the same. Shakky had described it as elating, unforgettable, yet a fleeting experience for a Pirate Empress tied down to their duties. So, you accepted his invitation. In response, he gave you a bright smile. One that stunned you in place as you took note of how his lips curled up into something so radiant. If anything, it was like the sun allowing the roses of its garden to thrive in its light. You felt your heart begin to blaze, though buried it deep as you fell into place beside him to walk through the village. It was at this instance, that both captains had completely forgotten about their competition over some lobster, and the duties that their crews required of them to complete.
You found his presence to be freeing, there was no need for formalities. Shanks made that clear when he tried to amuse you with chopsticks in his nose, to which you walked away in response. You thought of the man as a fool, but a kind one. You noticed how he interacted with the children he came across, they all gleamed up at him with admiration despite his rising infamy as a pirate. You even noticed his subtle acts of service when he stopped a cart of fruits from spilling over without the villagers noticing, or when he ‘accidentally’ dropped a few coins for the man wishing to buy his child a dessert. He continued to smile ever so brightly, setting the whole island alight even as the sun began to descend. Shanks was a fool, you continued to think, but a charming one at that. You wondered if this is what Shakky experienced in her own time alongside Rayleigh, and if every single moment from today would continue to be something alike now. Surely not, life was not perfect. Though your eyes displayed such exuberance that made you want to cherish this experience and the others that may follow after this one, even if it was fleeting as you were once told.
Shanks almost couldn’t remember the last time he felt that he could rest. Typically, he’d be more elated at gaining more acknowledgment as a pirate, though the attention from the Marines and the World Government had begun to weigh more on his crew. He could see it in their expressions, even on his own when faced with a mirror. Hence his crew was currently sailing around the East Blue to rest up, leading up to his current situation. As he stuck the chopsticks up his nostrils, he turned to you for your reaction. He took in the way you covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, your fingers creating an opening to see how your lips went up into a beautiful curve. Shanks felt pride in being able to make you smile at his foolishness, even when you walked away to hide your own amusement. You were a rose with thorns, but still possible to grasp as long as you gently pulled out its spikes. He watched as you interacted with the environment with such grace in each of your steps and inquisitiveness in the enchanting eyes you possessed. He noticed how you usually came to the villagers with questions regarding things you held curiosity for. You were fascinating yourself, but still so intrigued by the world around you that it urged him to show you more if possible. Shanks was quite aware of who you were, an Empress of the Maiden Island and notorious Captain of the Kuja Pirates. He’d assumed you already knew a vast amount of knowledge about the seas and more, so he wanted to help with things you might’ve not known about. Shanks would beam when he explained something and the way your eyes would gleam at the discovery of new information. You were indeed a rose that flourished in the sun even as it set on the horizon.
As you parted ways with Shanks, you continued to stare back at the island aboard your ship, even as it became a minuscule block in your sight until it disappeared. Shakky was correct, it was a euphoric and unforgettable experience, though fleeting. Fortunately for you, this first meeting would not be the last. One year later, on an island in the Grand Line, you found yourself sitting beside the same red-haired captain. Only this time, he was without donning his straw hat and missing an arm. You took note of how his eyes held a new hope and how his personality only became increasingly charming the last you’d seen him. Though most of all, you noticed how his foolishness stayed present, despite seemingly becoming more serious in his role as Captain of the Red-Hair Pirates. The two of you chatted over a few drinks, ending with you inviting him to take a stroll around the island, to which he accepted with the same brilliant grin he decided to grace you with months ago. This became a daily occurance should you dock on the same island as Shanks, each conversation turning into a walk-and-talk around the archipelagos. Your crew, including his, noticed how every few islands their captains would disappear for hours, only to come back with their duties having been forgotten. Benn Beckman in particular, saw how every once in a while, Shanks would return with a more elated expression than usual, his mind elsewhere until Beckman would scold him for discarding his duties. Unbeknownst to his first-mate, he was only that ecstatic because of the time spent with you. He thought of you as a rose that he could hold without its thorns making him bleed.
Though you both continued to hold your own goals as you two sailed across the seas, there were times where one would linger in the other's thoughts more often than not. This became apparent after Gloriosa noticed how you’d stare off into the sea every time she would address you in your sleeping chambers, as if you had something else you’d rather be thinking of. Your mind drifting off continued until Gloriosa returned with news regarding a new Emperor of the Sea, the mention of Shanks’ name had your head turning in a speed that startled even Gloriosa herself. Your elder stepped in beside you as your eyes gazed upon the paper with an image of the Red-Hair Pirates claiming their glory, taking note of how your hand lingered over the captain’s face. It had been long since your last meeting with the red-haired captain, longer than usual, and it may have tore away at your thoughts at times as you had come to enjoy his company. You thought of him as a sun that you allowed yourself the privilege to bask in without burning. Gloriosa, staring at you with suspicion, began a subtle interrogation on your connection to the Emperor. You were able to answer her questions without faltering until she had asked a rather forward one, did you hold feelings for Red-Hair Shanks?
Without warning, Gloriosa watched as your face burst into a shade of deep red, almost the same shade as the mentioned man’s hair. Your lips parted multiple times to speak, yet your mouth ran dry at every attempt. Your gaze went everywhere but the paper that held the image of the red-haired captain, never letting your eyes linger for more than a second if it did. You felt the thumps of your heart making an attempt to burst out of your chest, your back falling against the sheets and taking deep breaths in an attempt to quell it. You felt warm, like the sun had invited itself into your room. You felt like you were burning, though unaware of the reason why. Normally, you disliked burning, though this felt more passionate and embracing, rather than the burning of an emotion like hatred. Gloriosa gaped at you with shock as she watched the same sickness she’s seen for generations overcome the current Empress of Amazon Lily. The elder ordered the concerned guards out of the room, fanning you with a nearby folding fan as you gathered your thoughts. As soon as you were able to sit back up, Gloriosa ordered you to listen to her carefully– that the sickness you had caught was not a joke. You’d thought her to be serious until she told you that you were in love, your face becoming warm yet again. You then allowed your mind once more to focus on Shanks. You thought him to be captivating. His smile, his charms, his foolishness, his warmth. These were only a few of the traits that you’ve come to admit that you admired so deeply. Gloriosa watched as your mind drifted off once again and sighed, leaving you to sort out your love sickness on your own.
However, as soon as the elder had opened the doors to your chambers, a warrior had stumbled in with a rather frantic expression. The young woman’s gaze switched between you and Gloriosa, apologizing profusely for her interruption before reporting that there was a situation along the island’s coast. Upon hearing the urgency in her voice, you stood firm on your feet, the symptoms of your love sickness having disappeared for the time being. Immediately, you took your cloak as you headed out into the halls of your tower, commanding the warrior to report on more details of the issue. Apparently, there had been a break-in on the island and multiple groups were currently out looking for the perpetrator. Gloriosa followed closely behind the two of you, only halting in her step when you did. The older woman behind you watched on in horror as your breaths became shallow and the thumps in your heart began once more. Though you had felt warm inside of the walls of your room, you were sweltering now, holding yourself against a windowsill for balance support. Despite the condition you were dealing with, you continued to walk forwards. Ignoring the pleas of the two to rest, you only turned back when Gloriosa said you would not be able to handle the situation accordingly in your condition, cutting her off with a single look. As it was clear that you would deal with the perpetrator, you commanded the warrior to retract their forces as you headed out into the sun.
You stared at the fool standing across from you with utter disbelief, before glaring at him as his head hung back from laughter. The red-headed captain was drenched from his swim across the Calm Belt, his black coat hung up to dry allowing you to admire the way his white button up presently clung to his skin. You observed every detail of the elation that he displayed, from the way his eyes crinkled expressing genuine joy to the way he held his hand to his stomach when laughing too hard. You took notice of every crease around his eyes, the veins on his hand reaching up to his arms. Even his tousled red hair that you’d be able to discern in any crowd. Everything. Though you’ve always believed it, you thought him to be more radiant than ever as the sun graced his figure as he stood before you. Meanwhile Shanks, as his laughing ceased, took in your grace as the roses around you seemed to flourish more than they did when he arrived. He thought you were more beautiful than the last he had seen you, just as flowers bloom when the sun has risen. He wanted to hear your voice, to see your smile, to have the privilege to hold you even if he is pricked by thorns. Shanks would bleed for you. You made no attempt to stop him when he embraced your figure, feeling the burning sensation in your body despite the water seeping from his clothes to yours. His warmth was welcoming and passionate, he is the sun that you would allow yourself to burn in. The sun had invited himself into your garden.
A/N: i suck at dialogue so i avoided it woo
#one piece#one piece live action#one piece x reader#one piece x you#one piece imagine#one piece oneshots#opla x reader#shanks x reader#shanks x you#akagami no shanks#akagami no shanks x reader#red hair shanks#red hair shanks x reader#red hair pirates
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The Diary of Penny Polendina
The other day I was inspired to try working on a different NeverFell Projects installment, one that would probably be a lot shorter and quicker to write, because it's not like I care that deeply about Penny, right??
Well, I was incredibly wrong. ^^; So wrong that I'm actually having trouble with this story now...essentially, Penny goes through a bit of a 'rebellious phase' (gross oversimplification, but that's all you get for now) and there are, surprisingly, a lot of aspects of that character arc that I want to explore. Plus, a pivotal connection with Pyrrha, the climax of which I haven't quite figured out yet...
God only knows if I'll be able to finish, or if I'll just write the first 2/3rds of the story and leave it at that. But I figured I might as well warm up by talking about the designs. ^^
Penny's new look is basically 'Disney's Pinocchio, color picked from Arthur Watts' character design'~
I didn't necessarily want her to look evil, just...bolder. Like she specifically picked 'daring' items that maybe her father or Ironwood's PR team would rather she didn't wear, at least not compared to the more innocent frilly pastels she had on before. Between the chest window, midriff, and short sleeves, she's actually showing a lot more skin than before, despite still being 90% covered up. ^^;
Those multicolored wrist accessories are prototype weapons invented by Dr. Watts, that mix and pressurize Dust from the cartridges to cast "artificial magic". This way I get to do a bit of the 'Winter Maiden Penny' stuff in this Vol. 3-locked AU~
Penny's magic usage is one of the things that stumped me when writing this story...In NeverFell, magic isn't just glowy rainbow lasers or weather powers-- it essentially allows the user access to any conceivable semblance at any time; its potential is limitless.
Being a beginner, Penny would probably just come up with one signature 'spell' to use in tandem with her Floating Array...but I can't decide what I want her to do. ^^;
I think I'd like for her to do something connected to dance, because I feel like that's something unique to her, the way she dances with her weapons before striking. Nobody ever points out how the "robot" in the cast is the one who chooses to spend energy on unnecessary movements that aren't even used to maneuver around an enemy; they're just cute and fun. ^^ I think that's a great encapsulation of who Penny is~
Redesigning Pyrrha is always super difficult, because her original design is so perfect. But I like this end result a LOT. ^^ I may need to adjust the pant legs a bit, but overall it feels like a very believable alt outfit that keeps the spirit of the character.
Pyrrha is another one of the stumbling blocks in this story, because I'm now forced to create at least one malleable personality trait for her-- i.e. one that isn't intrinsically tied to Jaune and/or the plot. Something that she could actually take into a meaningful relationship with a different character...
I had the idea to expand her "I'm sorry!" gag into a real guilt complex, where she has trouble letting go of instances where she's made mistakes or hurt someone. In this case, dismembering Penny 1.0 and essentially ending her life. :T She seeks out 2.0 in a desperate effort to make things right, and ends up helping her with ...things, and growing as people or whatever, and all that other stuff I have yet to write. ^^;
I just realized that Pyrrha could use her polarity semblance to pull Penny towards her in a situation where they need to reach each other...that's so cute. ^^ I gotta remember that~
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
masterlist playlist
Part 2: The Hideout
You follow Robin over the resort property line to a place where guests are forbidden and get a glimpse of what goes on behind the scenes.
word count: 3.6k
My blog is 18+ONLY, mature themes, violence, alcohol consumption, eventual smut, fighting, mention of blood, reader is called Bird as a nickname, reader plays the cello. Reader is 21, Eddie is late 20's.
Songs for this chapter:
Animal (fuck like a beast)//W.A.S.P.
No one like you//Scorpions
Mental Health (bang your head)//Quiet Riot
Wasted Years//Iron Maiden
a/n: it has been so much fun to pull this out of the rubble and jump back into this world for a rewrite, I hope you enjoy. To my I'm on Fire peeps, there will be a scene in this chapter that feels very similar to something that happened in IOF, and that's because I originally stole it from this fic, thinking I'd never post it, lmao. Thought about changing it, but it's just too perfect. Plus, there will always be a hint of biker Eddie in all of my Eddies.
Sticking close behind Robin, you crossed the arc of a walking bridge over a creek and disappeared on a worn path through the trees. It was only then that you could finally make out the building where the loud music was coming from.
It had corrugated metal sides and roof, like a structure you might see on a farm that housed large equipment. There was a picnic table out front where a few people were seated, and the shell of a vintage automobile with bullet holes in it sat in the weeds.
A little more than a city block away was a modest cabin made from actual logs with an old truck, a van, and a motorcycle parked out front.
“Who lives there?” You nudged Robin.
She stopped to see where you were looking first, and then, “oh yeah, that’s Wayne’s place. The head maintenance guy. This is his too,” she gestured to the metal building where the music and shouts were coming from. “Both him and his nephew Eddie. Have you met Eddie?”
You absolutely knew who he was, but didn’t want to come off as a stalker, so you shook your head.
The large sliding door entrance to the building was open about a foot, letting out wafts of smoke and a hazy, golden light. From over Robin’s shoulder, you could see quite a few bodies moving around in there, and just then came the sound of a glass breaking.
“Ready?” She smiled back at you, struggling to hold everything in her arms as she reached for the handle to slide the door open the rest of the way.
“Let me?” You lurched forward.
“I got it,” she insisted, fumbling one of the guitars before catching it again with a gasp of relief.
You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting to see when she eased the door open the rest of the way, but a topless woman dancing on a table top was not one of them.
Her hair was bleached blonde, frizzy and teased around her face. She was tan with a prominent bikini line over her pert breasts, and it looked like she’d just pulled the top of her leopard print spandex dress down to give a little show.
The song Animal (Fuck like a beast) by W.A.S.P. was blaring and the guys around the table cheered while the woman flipped her hair and worked her hips in a circle. You were sure you recognized her as one of the waitresses from earlier that night.
Metalheads of all kinds were crowded together, mingling, and you feared that you stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. Some were in leather; some wore jean vests with pins and patches all over them. A handful had long hair that they must’ve tied back or wore under hats while they worked at the resort, but a few of them, like Steve, kept theirs short and tidy, for the most part. Overhead string lights swayed from high wooden beams, and a chandelier that looked like it was made out of wrenches. An old, pea green Kelvinator refrigerator and a small kitchenette was to your left, as if someone had lived there at one point, and two couches sat against the wall that were mismatched and worn.
Most of the crowd of people seemed to be lingering together in the middle, standing there as if waiting for something. Taking shots, smoking blunts, and making out with each other, blocking you from seeing beyond them.
Robin signaled to follow her, and you were hesitant to start moving through the masses, holding the guitar case flush to your body, feeling like it was something to hide behind. You noticed posters on the walls for bands like Judas Priest and Metallica, and on the concrete floor you saw smudges from white chalk markings, dark splotches the color of dried blood, but that was ridiculous.
You pushed between a girl with a blue mohawk and a guy with a shaved head that was covered in tattoos in a hurry to keep up with your escort, and the two shot you a hard glare. When you could finally see the far wall, there was an oval, threadbare carpet in the corner with a drum kit set up, three microphones, two amps, and some other equipment that suggested live music would soon be happening.
“This is where they practice!” Robin shouted over the music, directing you where to put Eddie guitar down. “We call it The Hideout.”
“'Where who practices?’ You set Eddie’s baby near the wall where she told you to.
“Eddie and Chrissy’s band,” she motioned for you to stand over at the wall with her.
“Oh,” you turned to look at the instruments again, heart flopping a little at the idea he would show up at any moment. “They're playing tonight?”
There was a commotion up ahead and you both turned to look. "Later maybe! The fights are tonight,” again, yelling over the growl of the music. Now the song was No One Like You by Scorpions, and it sounded like people were cheering at someone who’d just come through the door.
“Fights?” You leaned in to get more information when everyone started pushing back to make room for whatever was about to happen. You remembered that one of the guys on the porch earlier that day with Chrissy and Steve had a black eye, and you’d noticed another worker at the resort who had a busted lip, but you hadn’t paused to think that maybe they were somehow connected.
It was then that you saw Eddie appear from out of the sea of bodies, and took a sharp intake of breath, holding it in, afraid to let it out for fear you might whimper.
He was so beautiful, it made you dizzy. You stood up straight, adjusting yourself, covertly checking to make sure you weren’t perspiring too badly.
He was wearing the tux he’d had on for the show earlier, but the tie and cummerbund were both gone, and his white shirt was unbuttoned almost to his stomach. You caught a glimpse of tattoos on his chest, and a necklace of some sort. Someone handed him a beer and he threw back a generous gulp.
“There’s going to be boxing? Here? Tonight?” You were trying to act casual and not stare at him the whole time, but it was hard to tear your attention away.
“Nothing professional,” she scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, putting her shoulder blades against the wall. “Just your average bare knuckle street fighting, basically. The guys were doing it to blow off steam, but then some others got involved and people started placing bets, so a whole thing started.”
Eddie unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and took it off, passing it to someone in the crowd. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his lean muscles under the scattered ink. He kept his hair tied back and started wrapping white tape around one of his hands while Steve said something in his ear.
“How do they choose who fights who?” You were invested now, wringing Robin out for any information she had.
“I don’t know how they figure it out, but the new guys usually fight each other, and then a winner challenges Eddie or Steve or Alex,” she pushed off the wall to get a better look at the center of the room. “But it looks like Eddie is up first.” And then with a smirk she added, “all of the new hotshots at the resort think they can beat Eddie.”
“Can they?” Your voice cracked, eyes locked on the scene. A guy shorter than Eddie but muscular in a football player type of way, was also shirtless in the circle now, with taped hands and wearing a pair of sweats with the name of a university down the leg. The guy was hopping from foot to foot to keep himself hyped up, punching the air in front of him.
“No one beats Eddie,” there was pride in her voice. “Looks like the guy he’s fighting tonight is Lance, one of the new ski instructors. Totally full of himself.”
Steve was wearing a white wife beater and jeans, and he raked a hand through his mop of hair just before pointing in your direction. Eddie’s gaze followed the line of his finger directly to your stunned face, and then it lingered there.
He seemed to contemplate, wetting his lips, and then he nodded to Steve and was on his way over.
He didn’t have to push people out of the way because they were all quick to part to make room for him. It wasn’t long before he was standing right in front of you. You tried not to let your gaze linger on the full curve of his slightly chapped lips, or the way his wavy bangs framed his cherrywood eyes. On closer inspection, you could see that the necklace he wore was a ball chain with a guitar pick hanging from it.
Robin opened her mouth to say something, possibly introduce you, but Eddie cut her off.
“What the hell are you doing here, Princess?” His voice was low with an edge of irritation. He pulled the chunky metal rings off his fingers one by one as he spoke.
Robin cleared her throat, stepping forward. “She’s with me,” she stuttered a bit nervously, knowing full well she shouldn’t have brought you there. “She came with me, she’s cool.”
Eddie collected all of the rings in his fist and kept staring at you as if he wanted to hear it from your mouth, not Robin’s.
Your brain short-circuited for a second and you forgot how to form words when he was so close you could see the detail of the dragon tattoo on his chest. But then, finally, it came to you:
“I-I carried your baby.”
The second it slipped out, you knew how stupid it sounded.
Unblinking, he gave his rings to Robin, and then he was gone.
You stared at the space where he no longer stood, flushed with embarrassment.
“I carried your baby?” You repeated in a whisper, covering your face with your hands.
Someone turned the music down so that Steve’s voice could be heard, and he waved his arms in the air to get everyone’s attention.
“I don’t have to explain the rules to you, because there are none,” his announcement was met with screams and cheers. Robin tugged at your arm, signaling for the two of you to get a bit closer to the action. “First one to hit the ground for whatever reason is the loser. Just fists, no blades or other stupid tricks.”
At one side of the circle of bodies, Lance the ski instructor was practicing some tight punches, and at the other end, Eddie rolled his neck while Chrissy finished taping the knuckles of his other hand. It was then that the chalk and the stains on the concrete you saw earlier made sense.
“You two ready?” Steve put his arm up between them, waiting for their nods, and then, at their signal, he chopped his hand down between them as if he were slicing the air.
Lance was hopping from foot to foot, trying his best to look like some fancy footwork he saw in a Rocky movie, while Eddie walked casually, giving the guy a hooded, bored stare.
Eddie could read Lance like a book. A fight was a lot more than just a mindless throwing of hands, there was a mental prowess and skill needed that a lot of the punks busing in from suburbia did not have. Street smarts was one thing, and Eddie surely had that, but he’d been fighting bullies off since he was a kid, and Wayne taught him to fight like it was a game of chess.
Eddie could tell where Lance was going to go a second before he made the move. He saw the guy was amped up, letting his emotions fight for him, and that was only one of his first mistakes.
Lance charged at him and swung, but Eddie was already steps away; relaxed and agile, holding his guard up. The ski instructor came at him aggressively, again and again, until Eddie pushed him, making his opponent stumble back.
Keeping his form, Eddie caught you standing there out of the corner of his eye.
…what were you doing there at the Hideout?
He let himself ponder that question for too long and Lance was on him again, aiming a left jab to his ribs, and Eddie absorbed the blow with a grunt, arching to the side.
You were not supposed to be there. What was Robin thinking?
Mostly, Brenner and Joyce stayed out of their business, as long as whatever they did was off resort property, but if they found out one of the guests was somehow involved, there would be hell to pay.
Lance charged again and Eddie dodged, angry at himself for not being able to focus .
“C’mon Lance, stomp that freak,” someone yelled from the crowd.
And that was all it took
For Eddie to get tired of dragging it out for betting purposes.
Lance charged forward with a cry and Eddie socked an uppercut into his unsuspecting jaw.
The surfer boy went down
Hard.
Saliva and blood flew from his mouth as he flailed back, arms going ragdoll.
It felt like it happened in slow motion but soon enough, Lance was splayed out like a starfish on the concrete floor.
“Goodnight sweet prince,” Steve said sarcastically as he collected bets over the ski instructor’s limp body.
Robin cheered with her hands over her head, and you gave a few slow claps, your brain barely able to register where you were or what you were seeing.
“You want a beer?” She asked as you watched Lance numbly get to his feet with the help of two friends and attempt to shake it off.
Robin motioned for you to follow her around to the refrigerator which was stocked from top to bottom with nothing but beer cans. She handed you one and then went to lean against the side of the appliance, cracking open the tab with a hiss.
With your back to the crowd, you prepared to follow suit, listening to Steve introduce two more fighters.
But then there was someone at your side,
“Not like that,” a voice said.
Eddie had come up behind you, wearing his white shirt unbuttoned, skin still glistening with sweat. Mental Health (Bang Your Head) by Quiet Riot came over the speakers, eliciting a wave of yelps and screams from the group.
“Wait,” he put his hand on top of yours to keep you from opening your beer while he motioned for another guy to toss him one. You turned to seek comfort or guidance from Robin, but she was absorbed in conversation with a girl in a platinum pixie cut who’d just walked up.
“Like this,” he brushed his bangs to the side, and winked as he fished a ring of keys out of his pocket. He used the serrated metal edge of one to punch a hole at the bottom of the can.
It was the wink that made your skin flush hot, and then your jaw went slack as you watched him wrap his lips around the newly made hole in the can. He made eye contact with you one more time before tipping his head back, and cracking the tab of the beer open with his thumb so that the liquid when squirting down his throat.
The muscles in his throat jerked as he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing.
It wasn’t three seconds before he lowered his head and crushed the can in his hand to show it was empty. He let out a refreshing, “ahhhh,” and darted his tongue out to lick a droplet from his chin.
You were still holding your unopened beer, waiting for him, mouth dry. “I-I’m not sure I—”
Yes, you knew what shotgunning a beer was, you’d seen it done plenty of times at college parties and in movies, but had never been tempted to try it yourself.
Ignoring your hesitation, Eddie motioned with the crook of his finger for you to come closer. You shuffled to be within reach of him as if your knees were locked in place.
With a gentle touch, fingers brushing yours, he took your beer from you, wiped it off with his shirt, and then proceeded to make the same hole with his key in the aluminum. Some of the beer sprayed up and misted your face.
“Here we go,” he tipped your chin with his finger and butterflies swarmed in your stomach as his eyes searched yours. “Just let it shoot into the back of your throat.”
You swallowed nervously to make sure your throat was working, and then wrapped your lips around the can at his instruction.
“Easy, just like that, hold it there,” Eddie was so close now that your elbow was touching his bare chest. He put a hand on the back of your head. “When I say, tip your head back all the way, and I’ll flip the tab for you.”
You swiped your tongue over the hole in the can, thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you messed it up and beer went shooting out of your nose.
Robin offered a few words of encouragement and you noticed a tendril of hair clinging to the sweat on Eddie’s neck, right over the heartbeat in his throat.
“You ready?”
You weren’t but—-
“Okay, now.”
You closed your eyes, slammed your head back, and prayed, even though you weren’t at all religious. Some lukewarm beer leaked onto your tongue, and then Eddie pulled the tab, keeping one hand over yours to hold the can steady.
The gush of liquid hissed and exploded down your throat, and for a second you thought you would choke, but then your swallowing reflex bolted into action and it was over so fast.
You gasped and swiped beer from your chin when you pulled away to look at the empty can, amazed.
Eddie cupped his warm hand around the back of your neck, and you felt him shift closer until his mouth was at your ear.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
An actual chill ran down your spine.
Robin put up her hand and you gave you a high five. “Not bad for a first timer,” she joked. “Now crush it on your forehead and grunt.”
“Ha. Ha.”
You turned to Eddie, “that was fun maybe he should—”
You were about to say the two of you should do another one,
but he was gone.
—----
The next night, Eddie couldn’t sleep, so he decided to head to the property to finish up some work at the pool house.
The place he shared with Wayne was close enough to walk to the Hawkins Landing property, but that night, he drove. He wanted to roll the window down on the van and blast Wasted Years by Iron Maiden and belt out the lyrics.
He slipped into the parking lot for visitors and employees, turning the music down so that it wouldn’t be heard by any of the nearby cabins. There were two street lamps on, but a third one he noticed was out, and made a mental note that he’d have to get Jamie to fix it tomorrow. The sidewalks along the manicured lawn were also lined with lights that came out of the ground like little mushrooms, and the boat dock far off to his left was lit, but other than that, he was in the dark.
Grabbing his red toolbox from the passenger seat, he put a flashlight in his tool belt holster, and the van door creaked on its hinges just before it banged shut. His ribs still ached from the punch he took the night before, but he only allowed himself to cringe and curse in private. Luckily, his only companions at that moment were the crickets and the lapping of the water against the bank.
It wasn’t until he was a few yards down the sidewalk, head down, lost in thought, that the din of classical music made him halt in his tracks.
It was definitely strings, possibly a violin? No, it was too deep.
He looked up at the main house, but the sound was much too close to be coming from way up there.
He cut to the right and up the grass.
Then he saw the attic light on in cabin #11.
He told himself not to bother, but as the passion of the playing increased, curiosity got the better of him.
He came right up to your driveway, staying half obscured by a tree trunk, and watched you.
The cello, of course that’s what you were playing. He was no expert on the classics, but he’d always learned music by ear and had a unique sense for identifying instruments.
You weren’t reading from sheet music, you were just playing while you stared out at the sky.
Playing something by heart, or making it up as you went along, he wasn’t sure.
In his mind, you were so far out of league, it was criminal.
Your attention broke when a sudden movement down on the road startled you.
The bow zipped clumsily across the strings one last time, and you stood up to get closer to the open window.
But, your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you.
There was no one there.
-----
Hi hello! thank you so much for reading! For those wondering, this fic will still be centered around music, not boxing, but the little fight club they have has a lot to do with the spin of the plot soon.
thank you all so much for the suppport! we are getting to the juicy parts now! give me those hungry eyes. comments and reblogs are cherished!! like, I live for them.
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taglist: @tlclick73@micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch
#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson series#Dirty Metal Summer#Eddie Munson fic#dirty dancing au#eddie munson x reader
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VI. Fury
Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader (unrequited love), Alicent Hightower x Velaryon!Reader, Larys Strong x Velaryon!Reader
Series masterlist
Part 6 of this
I still can't believe writing more than 5000 words, there were times when I thought this would never come to light and it frustrated me so please give it a lot of love and let me know what you think of this chapter 🥰💖💖
As always comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading 💖
My inbox is open so I'm always willing to read your headcanons, opinions and answer your questions.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.
When the Queen was informed that Harwin had been seen leaving your chambers in the middle of the night she felt her heart skip a beat. She was afraid that for some reason you had decided to forgive your husband for his indiscretions with the princess and give your marriage another chance.
When it was time for lunch that Alicent, Larys, and you had, there was no need for the Queen or Larys to ask you about your husband's sudden visit because you told them yourself. Harwin offered to help the twins put to sleep and you accepted because you were tired Alicent instantly offered to hire more maidens to take care of the children at night so you could rest but you refused saying that you didn't want other women to take care of your children. While you were saying that Alicent couldn't help but notice that you were looking askance at Larys as if you were expecting a reaction from him but she thought it must have been her imagination because when Larys changed the subject you didn't seem disappointed or upset. Unfortunately, the Queen's worries did not disappear throughout the meal so when you left to go spend time with your sister and mother she shared them with Larys.
"I'm afraid that he will once again occupy a place in her heart," the woman admitted, clasping her hands under the table. "What happens if he convinces her to give him another chance? What if she leaves us?" As she spoke, she took off part of the cuticle of the thumb. If her father was watching her he would be scolding her. She knew it was a horrible habit but the anxiety she felt at the thought of losing you was too great. Alicent wouldn't know how to live alone as your friend again, not now that she had tasted what true love was. No one cared about her like you do.
"You heard her, she only let him stay because of the children" the man reminded her as he poured them both more wine "She will never forgive him" he declared and the Queen was envious of his trust. Larys must have noticed that her concern was great because she added "Besides, she will never leave us, especially you. She always seems to want to kill Criston Cole for daring to breathe the same air as you."
Alicent hurriedly brought the wine glass closer to her mouth to hide her smile. Larys' statement had to upset her, after all, Criston Cole is one of the few people she trusts and she should be upset that you want to hurt him, but instead, she managed to calm her down a little.
But Alicent's worries soon grew worse as the days went by because Harwin kept coming to your chambers and the worst thing was that now the two of you with the twins were walking around the castle together. At first, Larys wasn't worried that Harwin would spend time in your chambers after all you made it clear that you were only using him to babysit the twins. But now Larys felt sick every time he saw the four of them together at court. They seemed like a happy family. Aethan shouldn't look so comfortable tied against Harwin's chest with one of the special clothes your mother had ordered for you from Essos, and you shouldn't look so calm when Harwin's hand is on your back while you hold Alyn. You should move away every time his brother kisses your forehead but you don't. You're never the one to initiate the physical contact but Larys still doesn't like it, he's not sure if you're really not pulling away because you don't want to make a scene or because you're bonding with Harwin now that he's spending so much time in your chambers.
One day Larys reaches his limit. You, Alicent, and Larys are eating together again but the man instead of joining the conversation you two are having is too busy thinking about the image of Harwin with his hand on your back again while you were both talking to some Lord and how later his brother left the conversation but not without kissing you on the cheek before leaving.
"Why do you let Harwin spend so much time with you?" he suddenly interrupts your conversation with Alicent. She looks at him surprised but at the same time seems grateful for him to dare to question your closeness with Harwin since she would never do it for fear of upsetting you.
"I told you he's just helping me with the twins," you replied, frowning at his rude interruption.
"You shouldn't be depending so much on Harwin to take care of your own children."
"Larys" Alicent's intention was a reprimand but he could detect the nerves in her voice and her eyes.
Larys knew he said the wrong thing when he saw how your eyes seemed to spark and how you abruptly dropped the cutlery.
"Our" you corrected him. "And maybe I wouldn't be depending on Harwin so much if you took charge" you spat every word like it was poison.
"We should take a moment of silence before saying something that we regret," the queen proposed in an attempt to calm the waters as she tried to take your hand but you pushed her away and barely looked at her.
"It's not fair. We both knew that when you got pregnant the child couldn't know the truth" Larys said, appearing calm, not wanting to let you see that your words bothered him.
"Of course, they won't grow up knowing the truth but you're not even trying to help me" you crossed your arms. "Even Daemon and Rhaenyra seem more interested in them than you," the bitterness in your voice was clear.
And the only reason for that was because they both wanted to fuck you but Larys wouldn't tell you that because it would only make your anger worse so instead he told you the reason for his distance.
"I stay away to avoid making people suspicious"
Not wanting the court to suspect him of being the father of your children was not the only reason for his distance. The truth is that Larys had no idea what to do with the twins. He saw the immense love you had for children. Not just you, your parents and your siblings too. Everyone seemed to love Alyn and Aethan from the minute they saw them but he didn't. Of course, he was worried about their safety the second you announced to Harwin and Lyonel that he was the father. He didn't want anything bad to happen to them but he wouldn't say that he loves them and he's sure they don't either, especially Aethan because the few times he carried them, they became instantly agitated and cried demanding to come back to you. Their crying made his head hurt and he's sure it made your head hurt too so he stayed away thinking it would save both of you the stress of hearing the children scream.
"People think you're their fucking uncle, no one will suspect that you spend time together. You're family." It was obvious that you were dissatisfied with his defense by the exasperation in your voice. "And don't tell me that you're afraid that someone will realize the truth because Aethan has the same eye color as you because months went by and no one said anything. So stop being paranoid and spend time with your children" You got up from the table "I'm sorry, my queen, but I lost my appetite and I have to continue with my duties"
Neither Alicent nor Larys had any doubt that you were angry but you confirmed it when you left without even giving them both a measly kiss goodbye.
"You have to fix it," Alicent ordered, looking at him furiously. "If we lose her because of you..."
"That's not going to happen," the man interrupted, throwing his napkin at the table angrily. "I'll fix it."
Of course, after that argument, Larys couldn't allow you to get even closer to Harwin so that same afternoon he sent you a message through one of your maids. He asked you not to allow his brother to come to your chambers tonight because he was thinking of coming to see you. In the middle of the night, Larys entered through the secret passage that had your chambers hidden behind one of the paintings. A snort left your mouth when you saw him appear with a small bouquet.
"If you think I'll forgive you because you brought me flowers, you're wrong," you warned him but your anger shouldn't have been so great because you didn't leave his side when he sat next to you on the bed, in the middle were the twins lying awake. Face up they seemed entertained trying to turn around on their own. Larys was relieved that neither of them burst into tears when they saw it.
"I'm not stupid to think that, I know your character.," he said and extended the bouquet to you waiting for you to take it, you looked at it doubting whether to take it or not "It see like someone wanted it more than you" he commented when you saw Alyn stretch out her small hand as if he wanted to touch one of the flowers. "Do you mind sharing?" you shook your head and couldn't help but smile when you saw him remove a flower from the bouquet to give it to Alyn. You hurriedly pulled another flower from the bouquet and gave it to Aethan before he got jealous. "I will get better at this parenting thing. I will come at night and help you take care of them" he wanted to see your reaction but his attention went to Aethan when he saw him put one of the petals in his mouth so he moved the flower away from the baby making him squeal. Not wanting Aethan to start crying, he gave him the flower again but he had to take it away because he put the petal in his mouth again.
"Why does he want to eat it?"
You laughed as you saw the frustration on Larys's face because every time he gave the flower to Aethan he kept wanting to eat it and then squealed when Larys pushed the flower away. But he wasn't a squealer like when he was about to throw a tantrum, it was one of the ones he did when he played with you or your brothers.
Alyn must have also thought his father was making a funny face because he joined in with your laughter.
"I'm sure that at first the color of the flower caught his attention, but now he just thinks that he's playing with you," you reassure him. "Larys, I want actions, not just empty words. I want you to be there for us," you asked, returning to what your lover had said before.
And Larys showed that he was serious. He started coming to your chambers in the middle of the night to help you with the children. You noticed that at first, he seemed to struggle when they cried but after you taught him that skin-to-skin contact helped calm them down and told him that talking to babies helped too, Larys seemed to handle it well, although the first few times you had to stop yourself from laughing at how uncomfortable and lost the man looked because he had no idea what to talk to babies about. You had to tell him to stop thinking about it so much and just talk. Larys didn't make silly voices like Laena, Laenor, or Harwin but Alyn didn't seem to mind because he happily responded to his father with babbling. It didn't take long for Aethan to join in as well because she didn't want to be left out of the "talk."
You will never forget Larys' smile when for the first time he was greeted by Alyn's excited screams as soon as he saw his father enter your chambers. You feel happy with all this development, not only that but Larys also starts to join you during the day, of course not every day, but sometimes he happens once at the nursery with you or they meet by "chance" with you in the gardens and show the twins the flowers together. Even Princess Helaena joins you a couple of times but she soon loses interest in the flowers and entertains herself with the bugs she finds on the ground. At those times Larys and you have to make sure the twins don't try to put any insects in their mouths.
Everything seems to be fine again...Except for Harwin, who feels displaced when you no longer allow him to spend the nights in your chambers and starts seeing you and Larys together during the day. Harwin knows that he should be happy with the fact that you no longer seem to hate him and with the rapprochement that the two of you had during the time that he helped you with the twins. You don't seem angry when you meet him at nursery, nor do you reject him when during the day he insists on spending time with you and the twins. You don't even yell at him when he proposes that Jacaerys join the four of you. He should settle for that but he can't. He just wants to get your love back.
You should not have been surprised when one of your maids came to inform you that your husband was in the princess's chambers. You didn't expect that now that you could stand his presence and have the occasional civil conversation with him, he would magically forget about Rhaenyra. You weren't stupid, you knew he was still seeing her but you hoped he would at least have a little respect for you. You couldn't believe he dared to be in Rhaenyra's chambers while she gave birth. People were already talking about you three but this would only make it worse. You didn't think they could dare to humiliate you any further, at least at the birth of Jacaerys, Harwin hadn't dared to do this.
Fury took over your body. You ignored your maid's calls as you strode out of your chambers.
You felt the blood in your body heat up, noticing that you were getting closer to your destination. You couldn't stop thinking about your hands around Harwin's neck. You wanted to kill him. But you couldn't do it. If you kill your husband you will not go unpunished and you will suffer some punishment, your death, or your exile, and the last thing you want is to leave Alicent and Larys. So you'd have to settle for making a scene.
If Rhaenyra and Harwin wanted attention then you would make a damn spectacle. Tomorrow there wouldn't be a single person who wouldn't talk about you three.
When you finally reached your destination you abruptly opened the doors making as much noise as possible. You entered, leaving the doors open with the intention that anyone who passed by could hear you. You found Rhaenyra lying on her bed with Harwin kneeling next to her and holding her hand.
All eyes were on you, Laenor looking at you with fear, the midwives tensed while the princess and your husband looked at you with pure surprise. For a moment Rhaenyra thought that you would be at her side and accompany her while she gave birth.
“I tried to get him away from her,” Laenor said quickly, from the corner, seeing the fury in your eyes not wanting to be on the receiving end of it. Not when he had struggled to obtain your forgiveness.
You ignored your brother and headed straight for Harwin. One of Rhaenyra's handmaidens thought you would try to hurt the princess so she tried to stop you by standing in front of you. You barely bothered to look at her before pushing her in Laenor's direction. Your brother, as you expected, caught her before she could fall to the floor. The screams of the other maids irritated you even more. You hadn't even put all your strength into the push, of course, they had to be just as dramatic as Rhaenyra.
“What are you doing here?” with every second that Harwin passed in silence you felt your fury grow even more, the worst thing was that he didn't seem to have any intention of separating himself from the princess because he was still holding her hand. “Why does a sworn shield need to be here? “You questioned but again you didn't get any response causing you to lose what little control you had “You can't protect her from the birthing bed, you idiot! You shouldn't be here! Do you understand how humiliating it is for me, for my children, that you are here?!” As you spoke, you raised your voice more and more to the point that you ended up shouting, you were sure that at least your complaint had been heard by anyone who was there. will be found in the hallways. You were sure that from today the court would be sure that Harwin was the father of Rhaenyra's children.
You saw Rhaenyra flinch, you didn't know if it was because of your screams or because she was having a contraction. You didn't care anyway, she did this to herself you thought. If she were smarter she would not have gotten pregnant by your husband again and much less would she have allowed him to accompany her during her birth.
“She needs me,” said Harwin, looking at you with pleading eyes, hoping you would understand, you should, you know Rhaenyra and you know that she is afraid of childbirth after everything her mother suffered.
“Harwin, we're leaving,” you demanded.
Harwin loves you but he loves Rhaenyra too so he couldn't leave her alone right now, not when she knew she was scared and needed him.
“No,” he said painfully, knowing that the little process he had done between the two of you would be forgotten. Now you would get angry but then he would work hard to win you over again.
Your dragon blood or your Baratheon blood had to have taken over your body because suddenly your hands were on your husband's scalp. Years ago you had caressed his curls tenderly but now you found yourself pulling him with all your strength, if he wasn't willing to get out then you were willing to drag him. You would embarrass him in front of the maids and anyone in the hall.
Harwin quickly let go of Rhaenyra's hand to prevent you from ending up dragging her with him. The princess didn't know what to do as she watched in shock as Laenor grabbed you by the waist and tried to pull you away from Harwin, but you didn't give in, your hands seemed to be clinging to him. All Rhaenyra could do was shake her head as one of her handmaidens approached the door ready to call the guards and silence the rest. The last thing she wanted was to get you in trouble.
“Please, sister, let go. Please,” Laenor asked desperately. He feared that at any moment a guard would walk in and you would end up having an audience with the king for disturbing the princess in the middle of her birth and attacking her sworn shield. The worst thing is that he saw you capable in your state of the fury of telling Viserys to rot for pretending not to know what was happening right under his nose, how his grandson was a bastard: "It's not worth getting in trouble for them. Please release him. If the king and queen find out about this…
He stopped talking when he watched you loosen your grip on Harwin carelessly causing his head to hit the floor. Laenor couldn't help but grimace at the noise. He had to have pushed you away instantly because you once again grabbed Harwin by the hair, lifting his head and then slamming it back onto the floor. This time when you let go, Laenor took the opportunity to lift you up and left Rhaenyra's chambers with you on his shoulder while you shouted curses in Valyrian.
They hadn't even reached the end of the hallway when Laenor stopped, a few seconds passed before he put you down. But you understood his reaction when you saw his father standing in front of you. He was looking at you angrily and again you felt like you were a little girl getting into trouble running away from your babysitters. Laenor must have felt your anguish because he took your hand and intertwined your fingers like he used to do when you were children and you were both scolded, not only that but he put his body in front of yours.
"Did you expect me to stand by and do nothing while they humiliated me?" you questioned your father once he finished scolding you and Laenor. During all of Corlys's talk, your brother didn't let go of your hand and you loved him more than ever for it. He could have avoided witnessing this, he could have left you alone but he didn't. Your brother wasn't to blame for your attitude but he was still scolded for not being firm enough to stop you before making a scene. You were sure that if Laenor had excused himself, your father wouldn't have bothered to scold him later.
"You humiliated yourself," he declared. It didn't matter that he had been ranting for what felt like hours he was still angry.
His words were like a slap. Unconsciously you tried to make yourself smaller in your seat as you felt a lump begin to form in your throat. He is your father, he should be on your side, he should be furious with Rhaenyra and Harwin, not you. He should be shouting and defending your honor. But instead, he's yelling at you.
You remained silent without knowing how to respond, feeling small, pathetic, and humiliated under your father's gaze. Not being able to take it anymore you lowered your head looking at your lap. You didn't like feeling like this, you hated it.
You loved your mom. It was a silly and childish thought but if she were here you believed she would take your side. She may not agree with your actions but she would never make you feel this way.
"Tomorrow the whole court will be talking about how you lost your mind, entering the princess's rooms and beating your husband," your father said making you feel worse. You had wanted to make a scene to get people talking but you thought it would be to your benefit, you thought the court would side with the poor faithful wife but maybe your father was right, maybe in the end you would be the one who would end up badly. Perhaps Rhaenyra and Harwin would not be the ones to make the Velaryons the laughingstock of the court but you. The pain in your throat worsened at that thought. "What if this reaches the king's ears?"
"That will not happen, Father," you were surprised by the firmness in your brother's voice. "Despite the distance between my sister and Rhaenyra. The princess still has great esteem for her and does not want to get her into trouble with the king. If Viserys decided to act and punish my sister that would only encourage people to talk more about the true paternity of Rhaenyra's children" he said as he gave your hand a squeeze hoping to get you out of whatever was scheming in your head knowing that it wouldn't. It must have been nothing good."Besides, I doubt people will think my sister is crazy. "The court will side with her after all it is normal to see a woman hurt by her husband's cheating."
"A maester had to see Harwin," Corlys reminded them with a frown.
"An accident. One of the maids dropped hot water and the idiot slipped and hit his head. It's his fault for being in the delivery bed when he shouldn't be" You couldn't help but laugh at the easy lie your brother made up. You wouldn't be surprised if there were people who believed her. Laenor turned to look at you with a smile, feeling satisfied to see that you were settling back down normally in your chair instead of trying to hide. "The only thing my sister did was go yell at her stupid husband for daring to snub her like that."
Before Corlys could say what he thought about it there was a knock on the door. After your father gave permission to enter a maid reported that Rhaenyra had given birth to a second son named Lucerys and that the three of you could now go and meet him.
"Come on Laenor, we have to meet the future lord of Driftmark," the Lord said once the maid left.
The fury you felt when you heard those words made you forget any feeling of smallness that your father caused you. You could allow your father many things but not this. You weren't going to stay silent while he took away your son's birthright and gave it to Rhaenyra's bastard. You knew that your father was an ambitious man and wanted to go down in history—that's why he had pushed you to spend time with Viserys as soon as Queen Aemma died and when you didn't become queen he made Laenor marry Rhaenyra even though he knew his preferences—but you never thought he would be able to deliver the legacy of your ancestors as if nothing had happened. It was insulting. This was outrageous.
When you least expected it, your father always found a new way to disappoint you.
"You can't be serious," you said, standing up abruptly from your chair while resting your hands on the desk.
"Please don't start again," your father said as if he was treating you like a tantrum child making your fury only grow even more. You could feel your blood heat up.
"He can't be Driftmark's heir," you said, emphasizing each word to get it into his head.
"He is the son of Laenor. It is his birthright"
"He is my son in name only," Laenor reminded him. He loved Jacaerys and was sure he would soon love Lucerys too, but he still knew he couldn't give any of them Driftmark. It would be an insult to Laena, to you, to his uncles and cousins.
“And why is that?” Corlys accused him. He didn't need to say any more words, the three of them knew that he blamed the lack of legitimate children on Laenor's preferences. You would think that after years your father would have accepted it by now.
“Driftmark belongs to Aethan,” you said, watching as Laenor clenched her hands into fists clearly frustrated, putting her attention back on you “He was born before Lucerys, it is his birthright” You tried hard not to raise your voice thinking that if You looked calm and confident. Your father could listen to you for once.
“You know perfectly well that the line of succession follows the lineage of Laenor.”
“That's the point,” you exclaimed. “Lucerys has no Velaryon blood and no offense to Laenor, but we all know you will never have descendants. "You turned when you saw your brother but he didn't look offended by your words so you turned your attention to your father "If Laenor doesn't have children then the line that follows is Laena's but she still doesn't have children so until that happens follow my line. Alyn was born first so he will have Harrenhall but Driftmark belongs to Aethan.”
“Lucerys will inherit Driftmark after Laenor,” your father stated as if he hadn't heard anything you said.
“He doesn't have Velaryon blood!” you argued, losing your patience, a part of you wanted to throw yourself at the desk and beat your father to the point of exhaustion. Maybe this way he would come to his senses.
“History does not remember blood, it remembers names”
Again he was looking at you like you were a little girl, like you were stupid and couldn't understand what she was talking about. But you understood, he was always going to care more about his ambition than his family. This time you did not hide from his gaze but instead took refuge in your fury.
Nightwing shouted angrily from the Dragon's Pit.
Slapped.
Your father looked at you in shock. You didn't feel guilt or regret, in fact, you felt satisfaction. You hoped the mark of your hand would remain on his face. You weren't going to apologize, he deserved it for choosing Rhaenyra and his bastard over you and your son, his own blood.
Laenor was the first to react, taking your arm and pulling you back and then standing in front of you, ready to protect you in case his father tried to do something to you. But you weren't afraid. Your father had never hit you before and you didn't think he would start doing it now, not when you were already a grown woman, not when you could still hear the furious screams of your dragon, not when you both knew that if he dared to touch you your mother wouldn't hesitate to feed him to Meleys
“Get her out of here,” Corlys ordered, regaining his patriarchal composure.
You broke free from your brother's grip. You didn't need an escort. You could go alone but you had one last thing to say. You expected this to torment him.
“You will be the one to ruin our name, you will make us a laughing stock if you leave that child as heir.”
Of course, your fury can't last forever. That's why when Larys entered through the secret passageway that your room had, he found you curled up in bed.
"Are you angry?" You turn your back on him as you feel him lift the sheets to get into the bed next to you.
Your voice was weak and unsure like you were afraid to know his answer. And Larys didn't like it.
"Just for not being able to see how you hit my brother" he replied and you wanted to laugh but it came out more like a sob making the look in Larys' eyes soften. If it was someone else they would find it annoying or feel uncomfortable but you are the exception. He just wanted to make your pain go away. "What happened?" he asked, ready to listen to you complain about Harwin and Rhaenyra.
"My father wants Lucerys Velaryon to be heir to Driftmark instead of Aethan" You turned around and dared to sneak into your lover's chest now that you knew he wasn't upset with you.
You took Larys by surprise because he didn't expect that to be the reason for your discomfort.
"That's not going to happen," he assured you as he gave you comforting strokes on your back. "Not many children make it to the age of two. Even if they do, they can always have an accident during their childhood. And if that doesn't happen, then we'll take care of Lucerys."
You should be horrified by what Larys just said and its implications. You should be scared at how calm he seems at the idea of murdering his own nephew but instead, you feel more in love with him. It's twisted but his words gave you comfort, knowing that you weren't alone in this, that you had someone on your side who was willing to do something so heinous just for you and so that your child would have his birthright. You and Larys must be crazy thinking about the death of a newlyborn baby. You're probably not as good a person as you thought and you don't know how to feel about it. You send a silent prayer to the gods and apologize for your thoughts because that's what a good person would do. You convince yourself that your fury is still poisoning your head and that's why you think of Lucerys dead. Your usual self would never think of that. How would you wish for the death of an innocent baby?
"We won't do anything," you say but both you and Larys can notice the lack of determination in your decision. But he's smart enough not to highlight it, it would only worsen your mood. "It's not Lucerys' fault that my father chose Rhaenyra over me," your voice breaks at the end and it seems like you're about to cry again.
"He didn't choose her, he chose the power he thinks she possesses," he said in an attempt to make you feel better.
"I'm sorry that your father disappointed you," he gently wiped your tears with his thumb. "But you don't need it. You have your siblings, and your mother and you have me. I'm always on your side."
At his last statement, you felt your heart warm up along with a sudden huge need to kiss him. So you obeyed your desire and leaned towards him and then captured his lips. You kissed him again and again, you tasted his lips as if it were the most exquisite wine you had ever tasted, but the thirst you felt for him did not seem to disappear.
"Be good and make me forget about today" you asked with heavy breathing.
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hotd masterlist
#the sea dragon the clubfoot and the green queen#larys strong x reader#larys x reader#larys strong#alicent x you#alicent x reader#alicent hightower x reader#harwin strong x reader#harwin x reader#harwin strong x you#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd x y/n#laenor velaryon#corlys velaryon#velaryon reader#rhaenyra targaryen#hotd fanfic#hotd fic
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Alcina Dimitrescu NSFW HEADCANNONS
(A/N- I was thinking about some of these hcs at 5 AM and decided to make a post about them)
(Warning: NSFW CONTENT)
- She is very gentle with you when it’s your first time getting this intimate with her. She would never want to hurt her favorite maiden during a time like this.
- You both come up with a safe word and she’ll make sure you know it before you two begin anything.
- So I think everyone knows this because it’s just common knowledge but Alcina is very skilled at using her fingers. She knows exactly when to curl them, what speed, how rough to go, everything.
- Her strong fingers will tug on your hair whenever you’re eating her out and she’ll whisper praise under her breath.
- Speaking of praising, she loves to praise you and let you know how much of a good job you’re doing.
- She can be really loud in bed or she can be very quiet or somewhere in the middle, it depends on the day and her mood.
- She’s really into you being gaged, blindfolded, and/or tied up, she thinks it’s more exciting and enjoyable that way.
- She usually has good self control when it comes to you but sometimes you just look too delectable and she has to pull you into the nearest room to do a quick but very pleasureful round.
....
#re8 alcina#alcina dimitrescu#alcina dimitriscu x reader#alcina x maiden#alcina x reader#alcina x y/n#lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu smut#lady dimitrescu x reader
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In His Divine Gaze
Gojo Satoru x Reader
Can also be read here on AO3
Word Count: 20K
Synopsis- Following the traditions of your village, you become a Shrine Maiden. However, unlike most, you meet your shrine's God.
Content Tags: AFAB reader descriptions, Smut, penis in vagina sex, vaginal penetration, attempted assault (mahito is a creep)
Whether we like it or not, life tends to follow tradition. Old and dusty rituals followed by people to cling to the past. It ties people to their heritage, to their families. It has explanations for the unexplainable and gives a face to old superstitions. Tradition crossed time, mixing the past with the present, often in tiresome ways.
Your village had a rather odd tradition once someone reached the age of 18. Called the ‘Path of Three’ it was a replacement for a birthday celebration for the new adults. Dragged out in the middle of the town, the idea was to choose your path in life. With the celebration you could marry, become a trader or go work for the village shrine.
In almost all cases, young individuals chose to marry and live in the village. It was the easiest choice for most, guaranteeing them housing and in most cases a blessing from the village elders. Marrying was the choice that guaranteed safety and a full belly most nights. Despite being behind the times, the village had plenty to go around. And besides, propagation in a dying village was needed and highly encouraged. Each year another elder passed and the village numbers dwindled further. The eldest of the village clung to the shreds of the past, refusing to admit that with each year, the end of the village drew nearer.
Second choice was becoming a trader. That path meant a chance at leaving the old woods, of adventuring across the country. It carried with it whispers of riches, good food and escape from under the thumb of the elders. Being so sheltered within the pines however, made it a less popular path. The youth of the village tended to be wary of adventuring beyond the deep woods.
The final choice, the shrine meant servitude to the old gods. It was rarely picked, the choice meaning nothing but a life of celibacy and working yourself to the bone. It didn’t help that the shrine was led by the oldest and nastiest woman in the village. Because of this most avoided it like the plague. Your mother had once described it as a nest of disease, the quiet comment earning her the ire of the village elders. They would never admit it, but the shrine was like the rest of the village, becoming forgotten by the new world.
In your case you chose the shrine. Marrying wasn't something you had wanted. Not when the only eligible partner was 17 years older than you and had a penchant for being drunk. He had dropped heavy hints in the months leading up to your birthday, clumsily pawing at you as if you were livestock. No matter where you went, he was there, stinking and laughing. Your parents had encouraged him, their hints at wanting grandchildren much heavier handed. Gifts meant for fertility had greeted you a whole month before your 18th birthday, followed by the wide smiles of your parents. The thought alone made you want to vomit but you persisted. Ignoring him and them to the best of your ability.
When it was finally your birthday, the look on his face when you made your choice had been enough to make up for his disgusting behavior. A shrine maiden made sense for you. Being a wife held no interest. Not when it meant having as many babies as you could and spending your days gossiping with the other tired women of your village. Being a trader meant long periods of time away from the village. Much like the rest of the village, you liked the deep pines you lived in. They offered quiet and solitude that the rest of the world seemed adamant on moving away from.
So you chose the shrine much to your parents dismay.
Like most modern villages, old gods and their shrines were starting to become mere whispers. As the new age seeped across the land, the strings of tradition were starting to fray. Superstitions and reverence were fading to stories that were told to scare children and nothing more. Some villages had even had the arrogance to tear down old shrines. To rid themselves of the past in favor of the cold stone and metal of the future.
Because of this, the elders of your village approved of your choice heartly. It had earned you a bundle of fabric, a sack of rice and a small kitten. Gifts were not typically given to a new shrine keeper. But seeing as you were the second person in almost 19 years to do so, the village elders were ecstatic. They needed more people to keep tradition alive, especially since the old shrine keeper was getting up there in years.
So you left the warm and bustling village and found yourself in the woods that surround it. Your farewells had been bittersweet, your parents whispering that you could always change your mind. You didn’t however, heart thrumming slightly at the thought of finally being away from the watchful eyes of the village. Being alone in the woods sounded like a godsend.
So, kitten tucked in the front of your kimono and a cloth bag of your possessions on your back, you made the trek into the deep pines. Just over a day's walk from the village, the old shrine was nestled in a thick grove of pine. The stone and wood of its walls were decaying. Here in the deep woods, nature was adamant about overtaking everything. Deep emerald moss and prickly vines twisted over the hunched form of the shrine. Almost as if the forest were halfway through swallowing the old structure, it became impossible at some points to see where the shrine ended and the forest began. Wood shavings and bits of stone littered the mossy steps up to it, the building seeming to shed like an old dog. You carefully skirted around the larger chunks, knowing that if you tripped and broke anything, no one would be able to rescue you.
The once vibrant red paint of the shrine was peeling in thick chunks from the worn wood. Spread about the lush forest ground like strang blood flecks. There was something eerie about the building. Even the foundation was crumbling, cracks like spiderwebs spreading from stone to stone. Though you admittedly were not quite religious and weren’t sure how much you believed in the old gods, something about this building seemed alive. As if an unseen being sat at its middle, peeking over the crumbling walls at you with many eyes.
The shrine keeper, Ama, was much like the building. Hunched in her old age, her rough skin and dark eyes drew a picture of one who had been alive for centuries. Ama, of course, was only 83, a near miracle in the village. The old woman did not see it as such, living this long was a curse to her. She was old, unkind and foul tempered.
On your first day she had tried to send you back to the village, snapping that the youth like you just wanted to dilly dally in the forest like pigs. Though you towered over her, Ama scared you. She had a fierceness in her gaze that matched the unsettling aura of the shrine. You had stumbled over your words, sputtering like a fish as she glared. Her boney fists had been like knives in your hips as she pushed you from the shrine. And you had let her, eyes wide and mouth agape as she slammed the shrine doors behind you.
That night you had slept in the shrine steps, shivering and sneezing as the night winds ripped through the trees. In the dark, under a moonless sky, the pines weren’t as comforting as they were in the sun. And yet, you didn’t feel too afraid. Having the oddly watchful shrine at your back felt somewhat reassuring. And blessedly the kitten you had been given had remained on your chest, the little orange creature purring away through the night. He sat tucked in your kimono, brown eyes half closed in that sweet way cats did when sleepy and content. You decided that night to name him Yuji. The name was fitting. He was only a few months old and already had been more helpful than anyone else in your life.
Ama had let you stay after that, grumbling about having wasted enough energy to deter you. Under the morning sun you had given her a stiff smile, trying to ignore the fact that you could feel all of your bones from sleeping on stone. The old woman had given you a brief look of respect before covering it with her bristling glare. She was quick to thrust a broom in your hands, commenting that at least you had the decency to bring a shrine cat with you.
And so you had begun your days as a Shrine Maiden.
Other than her, the only other shrine worker was a man named Mahito. He was in his 30s and had picked the shrine as his place of work even before the age of 18. Being an orphan and having no home he had been left with little choice. Much like with the stray dogs that made their way in, the village had discarded him as soon as they were able.
Mahito was quiet and unsettling. He reminded you of stories of yokai for some reason, his gaze odd and piercing. Though you tried not to judge one by their appearance, there was something about his lank graying hair and scarred face that made your stomach churn. It was as if he were something pretending to be a man, his skin sitting strangely upon his bones. His voice didn’t help either, the man’s words seemed to twist like snakes. The air around him felt tainted by just a single word. You tried your best to avoid him as you carried out the various tasks Ama set for you each day. It was easy enough given that his daily tasks seem to pertain to the basement and inner courtyard. You happily avoided both and the bugs that seemed to thrive there. The few moments in which you had to interact with him were short enough that you were able to power through them with a forced smile. If he was aware of his effect on you, Mahito, thankfully gave no indication.
And time passed like this. One year became two, then 6 and you were still running about the shrine and its grounds, following Ama's raspy bark as she pointed to this and that. Over time you grew stronger, the coldness of winters and the sweltering summers having little effect with each year. It was a quiet life with just the three of you. Incredibly different from the village where everyone seemed to know what everyone else was doing.
The village life didn’t entirely leave you however. Despite liking being alone, you often found yourself trailing Ama on her daily rounds, not wanting to be caught alone by Mahito. The old woman seemed not to mind, happily giving you small tasks on the upkeep of the shrine.
Despite time’s instance of wearing the building down Ama kept it as clean and tidy as she could. The forest and the elements made the task difficult. It seemed nearly everyday there was some new part of the woods pushing its way past the old stone.
You assisted Ama silently, never complaining about any duties she gave you. Some days it was finding and tossing all the spiders in the shrine, others it was tying new talismans on the outer Tori gate. Ama would never admit it, but your silent acceptance seemed to please her.
Each morning she waited in the inner courtyard to bark the morning’s orders. In your 5th year she began following you about, glaring at your work. Ama offered no praise and no help. But you were quick to learn that didn’t mean she was unhappy.
In your 6th year some mornings Ama would give you nothing to do, simply asking you to watch the shrine as she took a walk. You spent those days on the front stairs with Yuji, sewing and waiting for Ama to reemerge from the deep pines. She never said where her walks took her, but she always appeared happy afterwards. Just for a moment, when she stepped from the trees to the stone, you caught a glimpse of the woman she once was. She would stand tall, a small smile upon her face and then she would step from beneath the last pine and once more she was a hunched and twisted old woman.
With these walks, the wall between you and Ama seemed to have lessened. The old shrine keeper slowly let you into her world. Her anger you learned was due to the villagers. Less offerings were being sent to the god. And no one showed up to the prayer ceremonies. Each ceremony she preferred, each ritual of offerings she held, Ama seemed angrier and older. Her chapped lips would offer curses to the village after each prayer. It was a sad sight that seemed to worsen through time.
You sat through all of them, offering your silent servitude to a nameless god. Despite your best efforts to pry, Ama didn’t produce a name for the god. And as time flew by, you began to think that the God was perhaps lost to time.
It wasn’t uncommon. As the new age filtered in, stories of gods abandoning their shrines grew in numbers. They went where the prayers were and here in the deep pines, only 2 offered prayer to the nameless god. You had noticed that Mahito never attended, the pale man always skulking away when Ama made her pre ceremony preparations.
As the years passed, Ama grew weaker. Her odd little walks took more and more time and you grew worried she was going to get lost in the deep pines. But she always returned and you kept your worries silent. You were curious of course, what could be so important in the woods that Ama would risk a fall over twisted roots to go each week?
But one glare from her wrinkled face was enough to wither the question in your throat. You pretended to not care, to not count the minutes until she returned.
Yuji had grown to be a big cat, spending his days napping in the sun on the shrine’s roof and following you about during your daily chores. He sat with Ama each morning, waiting for you to enter the main hall. Yuji was a funny cat, watching Ama bark her daily orders at you before following you to whichever end of the shrine you had been sent to. You appreciated his company and his funny little expressions. Life in the shrine was simple and yet complete. Not once did you think of returning to the village. Here your heart was fulfilled.
Then one day in the fall, Ama was not waiting in the main hall when you awoke. Waiting for a few moments you took note that Yuji was not in his usual spot either. You thought to ask Mahito, but his face in your mind made your anxiety deepen. You stood for a time, ignoring the chill wind as it ripped through your kimono. Worry took hold and you had made your way to her room, wincing at the heavy incense smell that seeped from it. Prayer incense, the ones she only used when offering words for the dead. You paused before the door, unsure if you should enter. Ama, despite opening up to you, was still incredibly private. Her room was the only spot in the shrine you had not yet seen. But despite your apprehension at being scolded, your anxiety at her wellbeing was stronger. The scent had your heart in your throat as you quietly entered her room, shutting the door behind you quietly.
"I knew it would be you " She rasped from her bed, the many blankets seeming to do nothing for her shivering. "Mahito is not to be trusted "
Ama looked withered, so small under the futon that you almost couldn’t believe it was her. At her side was Yuji, the big cat looking like a small tiger by her side. The old woman’s glare held no sharpness, her eyes half lidded as she stared. Sweat clung to her face and hair, shining strangely under the flickering candle light.
“I am not dead yet.” She rasped, brow furrowing further as she tried to level a glare at you. You had merely nodded at her words, fetching fresh water for her to drink. The old woman had become decrepit in the past few years. Her hands and back twisted by age to the point that she looked almost like a tree. Ama had allowed you to help her drink before swatting away your attempts to feed her a thin broth. Her fingers, you noted, seemed stuck, clawed like birds feet.
"You must carry out my duty now." She had pointed with one shaking hand at a small jade box. It sat, half hidden in the sleeve of a kimono. As if Ama had been halfway through stashing it away.
You opened it, finding a map. The paper was ancient, creased over a dozen times and torn around the edges. You held it carefully, squinting in the low light at the faint ink. The map detailed the main shrine and a smaller, hidden shrine in the woods. Just far enough from the main shrine that it couldn’t be seen even from the highest vantage point. It wasn't one you had ever heard her talk about before and you had thrown her a puzzled look. Ama had huffed, then coughed violently as she glared at you.
"Go to the tree burnt by lightning and stay there. When the bell rings follow the rope to the oldest tree. Then wait, with your eyes on the ground."
You knew better than to talk when Ama was, instead throwing her another questioning glance. Ama had paused for another coughing fit, allowing you to help her take another sip of water.
"The god of our forest is old and blind. He will not harm you."
Her words had you frozen, brow furrowing as you waited for further explanation. Ama gave none, merely stating that you were to follow a small stone path to a bathing pool. The god would put his hand on your shoulder for guidance. Again Ama expressed he was blind and that you must be slow and steady when walking.
“If he falls, you must NOT look at him. Help him up without using your sight.”
She added that once at the pool you were to shut your eyes and stand there, to wait for his hand on your shoulder again before making your way back to the first tree. You were to repeat this once a month, more if the god called on you.
“How will I know he’s calling for me?” It was the first question you dared to ask. Ama seemed to approve, coughing lightly into one crooked hand.
“You just will. You are his new keeper.” The sentence was tinged with sadness, Ama’s eyes glittering slightly in the dim light as tears welled in her old eyes. She did not cry however, the old woman turned her head from you and buried her face in Yuji’s side.
And with that, the conversation was over. You stuck the map in your kimono, bowing once to Ama before standing.
“Keep her safe.” You nodded at Yuji who let out a small meow in response. It wasn’t bandits or thieves you were worried about. No, leaving Ama alone with just Mahito seemed like a mistake. But Yuji disliked him as much as you and you knew the cat would do what it could to keep Ama safe. You just hoped it didn’t come to that.
That afternoon you paced outside of Ama’s room for a time. What she had shared was huge, but part of you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the dream of an old woman. A story she had clung to and now was passing to you.
Just once couldn’t hurt, you decided. One trip to this hidden area of the shrine just to see. And so you made the hour trek to the hidden shrine. The story explained the days Ama was gone for hours on end. You and Mahito had never asked her why she disappeared so much but now you knew she would have never told either of you.
Ama was dying. That was the only reason she had seen fit to tell you. In your heart you knew it to be true. But it saddened you. The old woman was snappish and callous. But she had given you a home for the past 6 years.
The walk to the tree struck by lightning was difficult. Though you were much younger than Ama, the twisted roots seemed to grab at your feet. More than once you tripped and fell, hands and knees scrapping painfully against the forest floor. How had Ama made it through this by herself? The woman couldn’t even stand up straight, much less fully lift her legs anymore. It was a miracle she hadn’t broken anything on her weekly trek. You were quick to discard your sandals, the shoes more of a hindrance than anything else. It left the mud seeping through your socks, cold and unpleasant. But you could walk easier, so you grit your teeth and pressed on.
After struggling through the pines, you finally made it to a clearing. It had you pause, the sight somehow more terrifying than anything you had ever seen.
A lone tree stood next to the burnt husk of a small shrine. Around them in a perfect circle was 12 feet of ashen ground. It was as if there was a perfectly controlled burn that ignited only there. The pines around the area stood tall and untouched. Massive wardens to this odd patch of forest. It was silent in this part of the woods. Unnaturally so. No birds whistled, not even the whisper of pine needles met your ears.
You held your breath as you walked to the tree, half expecting the ground to erupt with flames as you crossed. Only the crunch of ash beneath your feet greeted you, the sound unsettling. Your socks left muddy prints across the ash and you grimaced at how covered your feet had become. There was no saving these socks and if you tripped again, your kimono was sure to find a similar fate.
The burnt tree smelled. It was faint, only apparent when you were right next to the crumbling bark. It was acrid and dusty, the smell making the inside of your nose tickle. It was also a tad sweet, like spun sugar. You ignored the anxiety that churned in your stomach, determined to at least humor Ama. The ash on your socks was at least proof you could show her you came here. Even if it had been a waste of time.
As promised a rope was tied around the burnt tree. It was a thick, bright red cord that was tied almost delicately against the black wood. Unlike everything else it was incredibly clean. The bright red gleaming in stark contrast to the drab woods around it. Unlike the shimenawa at the shrine, this rope seemed rather expensive. You studied it, searching for a talisman or the mysterious bell Ama had mentioned. The crimson twist of silk contained neither however.
You frowned as you ran a hand against the silken rope. Ama had asked that you wait until you heard a bell. Glancing at the husk of the shrine, you noted no bell there either. Had it been lost? Fallen somewhere?
You chewed your bottom lip, hand steady against the rope as you thought. 10 minutes. You would give it 10 minutes and then walk back to the shrine. It had already been well over an hour as is to get here and you worried about leaving Ama alone. Mahito was there, the man a silent threat in your mind. While he had never done anything, his presence alone was like a thorn in your side. You weren’t superstitious, but you trusted your gut feelings. They had been right about the suitor in the village, they were right in this situation.
Gods what an idiot. You let out a huff of air. Only an idiot would leave a cat to protect someone. Maybe thats why Ama sent you on this goose chase. This was no doubt a lesson in being less naive. Certainly less cruel than you knew she could have been and for that you were grateful. Still, it didn’t make you feel any less stupid and you dreaded the lecture you knew was awaiting you back at the shrine.
A bell rang, the noise cutting through the silence like a knife. You flinched, eyes wide as you spun about, searching for the source. There was none, the sound again ringing out, seemingly from thin air. It was high and soft, a noise you might’ve found comforting had it not been in the middle of the pines.
Swallowing thickly, you dropped your gaze and took a step. Slowly, but surely, you followed the rope by feeling alone. The silk slid under your right hand smoothly, never catching on your palm. You weren’t sure how long you walked for, the light in this part of the woods was shielded by the trees. Had evening begun to set? You weren’t sure, your eyes locked firmly on your own feet as you walked. From the ashen ground, you stepped into the mossy mud of the pines. Again your feet became wet and you made a mental note that next time you should bring the damn sandals.
If there was a next time. A small part of you felt trapped, like a rabbit being led to a cage. Surely Ama wouldn’t have sent you to your death. Right?
Finally your hand hit the end of the rope. A smooth knot met your thumb, quickly followed by rough wood. You had made it to the other tree and the stone path. Right at your toe tips was the mossy stone, nearly swallowed by the forest floor. The bright moss stood in contrast with you muddied and ash dusted feet. Wiggling your toes, you wondered how far the path was to the bath, how long you would have to wait. You stood, chest tight as your mind buzzed. Perhaps you had imagined the bell? But it had been so clear, so loud. You smoothed your hand over the front of your kimono, dusting off a few errant pieces of ash.
Ama had been right about the bell, perhaps it wasn’t imagined and she was right about the old God?
You waited with baited breath, fighting the urge to look around you. Ama hadn't stated what would happen if you looked, but her warning had been clear. You must not look at the old God.
Beneath your hand, the tree you leaned against felt cool. The chill seeped into your skin, a dull ache radiating into your fingers as you stood still and listened.
The silence in the woods was deafening now. It made your heart race, body tensed as if ready to run at a moment's notice. You were terrified. Ama had never said which God lived in these woods. But the past few years she had asked him to curse so many of the villagers. Her old age had twisted not just her bones but her soul as well. You had heard the muttered prayers, the floods and fires she had wished for. Your throat felt dry, vision blurring slightly at the edges as you stared at your feet.
Maybe it needed a sacrifice before it would humor the old woman?
A warm hand slipped onto your shoulder and you jumped, a small yelp leaving your lips. You almost looked up, before fear set in and your gaze snapped to the forest floor again. Tears clung to your lower lashes as your heart thundered in your chest. For a moment all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears and your vision blurred as the hand tightened its grip slightly.
“You’re new.”
The God sounded young, like a man in his early 30s. The sound threw you off, mind reeling as you tried to rationalize the voice. He sounded human and again you were tempted to look.
Internally you battled yourself. To look and NOT to look. To speak and to keep silent. Your mind grappled with the conflicting urges, finally settling on a horrible combination. You gave a jerky nod and a grunt.
He is going to kill me for my rudeness. You could feel the blood leaving your face as the hand shifted slightly. But the God did nothing, a small chuckle making its way to your ears.
“You can speak to me. I don’t bite.”
The sentence was so normal. Casual and teasing. It made your stomach churn and you swiped one shaking hand across your forehead.
“Th-thank you My Lord.” You cringed as you spoke, your voice cracking horribly on the last word. The old God merely hummed, gently squeezing your shoulder.
Taking that as a command, you jerked forward, shakily stepping onto the stone path. The path was thankfully smooth and you walked slowly, each step careful as you tried to set an even pace. You shook violently, each step feeling as though you were fighting your way through water. Heart thundering in your head, you tried to keep the shaking rasp of your breath quiet, terrified that he would take your fear as an insult.
The God was obviously much taller than you, from the corner of your eye you caught a flash of a perfect, pale foot. You were worried however that a faster pace would cause the god to trip. The path, while smooth, was still irregular in places. You found yourself stumbling here and there despite having eyes on the path itself. Ama had indicated he was blind, an odd quality for a divine being, but you would keep him safe. Or die trying.
“Where is Ama?”
The God’s tone was light, but you could feel how his fingers tightened slightly when he spoke her name. You weren’t sure what to say at first, eyes locked on your feet as you carefully moved forward. The words churned in the back of your throat, sticking together until you had a painful lump in your throat. You didn’t want to admit the truth because it scared you. Ama was dying and that would leave the shrine to you. It would leave you alone with Mahito. For the first time in your adult life, you would be without an elder to guide you.
The God cleared his throat, tone teasing as he spoke, “It is rude to leave a god waiting.”
You nodded sharply, fingers playing with the edges of your sleeve as you spoke.
“Ama is dying.”
It was all you could get out. The rest of your fears twisted in your stomach, a ravenous beast chewing at your innards. For a moment you wondered if you would vomit but the feeling passed.
From behind you the God sighed, hand tightening again as he followed you.
The walk was silent, the path before you seeming to stretch on for miles. As you walked the sun barely shifted its position in the sky. Time was passing oddly, much more slowly than your body knew it should be. Perhaps a side effect of being near a divine being. Occasionally you felt the urge to speak, to break the deafening silence. But your fear would quickly wash the impulse away. The divine being was real, warm at your side. Your life quite literally was in the palm of his hand.
You shivered at the realization, again fighting the urge to peek over your shoulder. Even the small glimpses of his foot felt entirely wrong. As if you had committed some unspoken sin. You chewed at the inside of your cheek as you walked, mind flipping back and forth from the God at your shoulder and how fragile Ama had looked before you left.
Finally, after what felt like ages, the path stopped. The smooth stones went right up to the steaming water of the spring. You stopped, hands clasped at your waist and gaze locked on your feet. Ama hadn't really explained what to do at this point. Did he need help undressing? Did he need help bathing?
The God answered your unspoken questions for you, his hand slipping from your shoulder. From behind you, the sound of robes hitting dirt sounded out. You quickly shut your eyes, fingertips digging into the flesh of your palms as you tried to keep your breath steady.
“How many steps to the water?”
The question startled you and you shifted, sliding one eye open and searching until you found the pale foot. Beside it was a shimmering blue kimono, carelessly dropped on the moss and stone. From the foot to the bath was about 2 feet of space. You told the god as such, quickly closing your eyes again as he moved forward.
“You can look you know. I can’t tell either way.”
The god was teasing as he slipped into the water. But you frowned at his words.
“If you can’t tell either way then how do you know i haven’t been looking.”
The darkness behind your eyelids was strangely complete despite the sunlight filtering down from between the trees. You could hear water splashing and the God chuckling under his breath.
“Ama told you not to look right?”
Your brows furrowed and you resisted the urge to peek at him. For some reason you pictured a twisting smirk sitting on the god’s face. The man chuckled and you shifted uncomfortably.
“I bet she told you I'm old as well.”
That had you slowly opening your eyes, narrowed gaze slowly moving to the edge of the pool. He was right, Ama had called him old. But the foot you had seen was too youthful. Curiosity finally overpowered you, swelling until you could no longer ignore it.
You slid your gaze up and froze as you locked eyes with the most beautiful man you had ever seen.
Water clung to his pale skin like translucent pearls, they glittered in his snowy hair and on his lashes like fragments of stars. Your breath hitched as met his gaze, feeling as if the god could see your very soul. His eyes were a brilliant blue, glittering like the sun on a bluejay’s wing. You had never seen anyone with such vibrantly colored eyes before.
A trader had once brought a shard of brilliant blue stone to the village. Aquamarine he had called it, chest puffed as he had described the difficulty he had obtaining it.
The God’s eyes looked as if they were cast in from that stone. So brilliant and bright that for a moment, you found yourself lost. And then he shifted and your slight trance was broken. Fear slithered into your heart and you tensed, half expecting for him to smite you where you stood.
“Do I still look handsome?” He asked in a teasing tone, one pale hand scooping water over his tousled hair. You licked your lips, throat feeling oddly dry as you fumbled for words.
“Um. Yes. You are truly beautiful.”
You flushed as you admitted it, internally cringing at your words. Surely that was some sort of blasphemy. You had ogled the man at his request, but what if it was a test. Ama had been so clear in you not looking and you had broken the rule almost immediately.
He rest his arms on the edge of the steaming pool, his gaze set slightly above your right shoulder. You tilted your head, quietly picking up one arm and waving it. He didn’t react, instead dunking his head beneath the water. For a moment you were flooded with shame for questioning the validity of his blindness. But Ama had been wrong about his age. You watched the surface of the water, picking at your thumb nail. Did she know? Or had she simply been following the rules of the shrine keeper before her?
You waited, watching nervously from the stone path as his shadow sunk deeper in the water. The steam blurred your vision slightly, warm tendrils brushing against your skin like a ghost
If he was blind how would he know which way was up? It felt like a stupid question but after a few moments had passed, your worry grew. Could a god drown?
You didn’t think so but you also didn’t think any would look so human. It was unsettling how human he looked. And yet there was that hint of otherworldly quality. As if someone had taken the purest snow from the tallest mountain peak and sculpted it into the shape of a man.
Another moment passed and you flinched a crow called out overhead. It snapped you out of the odd poetic reverie you had been in. Kneeling, you leaned over the water, trying to swallow the rising panic that was blooming in your chest.
The steam from the pool felt nice against your skin, the warmth welcome in the chill of the day. You couldn’t see him, the water was an odd greenish blue. The color was unnatural and too intense for you to see anything past shadows in the water.
Should I swim after him?
The color of the water was incredibly off putting, but if you let your local god drown, that was an ultimate sin wasn’t it?
“Worried?” He emerged from the water with a devious grin, wrapping one hand around your wrist. You let out a shriek in response, resisting the urge to smack him on the shoulder.
“You-you.” You began to sputter, mind fighting itself. On one hand you wanted to tell this divine being he was an idiot. On the other hand, you were terrified that at any moment, he would punish you for your impudence.
“Satoru.” He let your wrist go, sinking back into the water to his chin. His skin was flushed slightly, the heat giving him a nice rosy pink across his cheeks and tops of his ears. You frowned at him, waiting for further explanation on the name he just dropped. Was he calling me Satoru?
You chewed the inside of your cheek, scrubbing the water droplets off your wrist with a corner of your kimono sleeve.
“That’s not my name.” You finally gumbled quietly, warily watching the god as he lazily swam about the pool. The man laughed, shooting you a look.
“Of course it isn’t stupid. It’s my name.”
Your mouth fell open and you stared for a moment. “Is….Is that allowed?” You sputtered out. It felt wrong and entirely too intimate knowing his name. All the stories you had grown up with had painted the picture of gods who accepted perfect adoration. Of titles such as ‘your eminence’ and ‘honored one’ being used. Not actual names. It was an unspoken fact that any gods that did have names had given pseudonyms of sorts. Long gone were the days of knowing a god’s actual name. Names held power for beings such as them and there was no need for any mortal tongue to speak them.
Satoru was certainly his true name. It was too simple to be anything else. You recalled the stories traders would sometimes share when passing through the pine village. Of god’s with names, title really, like ‘Curse Devourer’ and ‘Blood Manipulator’. Names that made you wonder how kind these gods were. How cruel they might be.
Satoru snorted, shaking his wet hair from his eyes. “Am I not your god? Are the rules not for me to make?”
He made a good point. You hummed in response, pulling your knees to your chest as you thought. As the god bathed you pondered why Ama had put so many rules in place. Perhaps it wasn’t to protect you but to protect him?
Overhead the sky began to grow dark, the sun beginning its slow descent to kiss the earth. Purple and orange bloomed across the horizon as if a great paint brush were stirring the clouds. The beauty was simple, something you rarely noticed at the shrine with all the tall pines in the way. It was then that you realized just how long you had been away from Ama.
Was she alright?
You were so lost in thought you didn’t realize the god had finished his bath until he stood before you, unashamed at his nudity. You slapped a hand over your eyes, face burning as you stuttered out protests. Of course he was unabashed in his nudity. The man was the image of perfection. The small look you had gotten at his more, delicate part, left your mind in a very depraved place. It was unfair just how beautiful ALL of him was.
You stood silently, back to him until once more the warm hand was upon your shoulder. This time you glanced up at him, taking in his pale eyes and even paler hair up close. He was divine.
“Tell Ama I'd like to see her once more.”
You murmured that you would, turning and starting the slow walk back to the burnt tree. Satoru left how he had arrived, silently with the soft sound of bells ringing out. You waited for a moment, gaze locked on the sky until finally, you began walking again. Threading your way through the many trees you found yourself back at the shrine. The sun was low in the sky and in the pit of your stomach, fear twisted with sharp spines and teeth.
Ama was dead.
You found her, small and frail, where you had left her. It was as if she were asleep and initially you thought she was. But a shifting of the shadows in the room and you realized Mahito was sitting beside her.
The older man looked at you with his odd eyes, his face anything but mournful. You said nothing, biting back the sudden rage that filled your veins. There was no proof, no indication of the truth to your thoughts. But you knew he had ended her life. His pale, gray tinged hands sat on his lap like sickly spiders. They twitched under your gaze. Culprits. Yes Ama had been dying, but he had taken her last breath from her.
You carried out Ama’s funeral rites alone. Well, nearly alone. Yuji stayed plastered to your side, the cat was on edge. He was jumpy, fluffing up at the smallest sound. Mahito had been cruel to him in some way. Ama’s body had been alone save the creep at her side when you had come home, the cat hiding in your own room. You silently comforted the cat as you stood guard over Ama’s burial. Under your watchful gaze, you prayed for her soul. You hoped that in some way, with his divine powers, Satoru would see her one last time. That Ama would find the peace she had lost.
You didn’t sleep that night. Locked in your room, with Yuji on your lap, you sat and watched your door. The dark hours ticked by and you remained still. From various parts of the shrine, old wood settled and the wind found its way through cracks in the foundation. And from the hallways, foot steps. Slow and calculated. Each one placed just so to create the least amount of noise. You sat tense, hands gripping your knees as you waited.
That night nothing happened. Nothing but footsteps, pacing the hallway outside your room for hours.
“You seem tired” Satoru mused, he was half out of the bath, one finger running gently over the brightly coloured candies before him. Ama had been right, that you would just ‘know’ when Satoru needed you. It was an odd tickle in the back of your mind, like a ghostly finger was poking at your brain. Your second walk had included Yuji. The cat had thrilled Satoru, the god practically squealing over the softness of the tabby’s fur.
The baths occurred randomly, sometimes multiple times a week, sometimes nothing for two weeks. With each occurrence you learned more about the God. He liked sweets, he was apparently friends with the ‘Curse Devourer’ and he seemed to really like teasing you.
“You know that ignoring me does you no good.” Satoru was sitting, crossed legged and entirely nude. He was sitting right in front of the bathing pool, a teasing smile plastered across his face. You stared at a point slightly over his left shoulder, hands neatly clasped on your lap.
“I’m not ignoring you.” It was a partial truth. Today instead of talking with him, you were speaking when spoken to.
“You’re not looking at me.” He shifted, moving forward until one of his knees tapped yours. You flinched, feeling a blush spread across your face as he leaned close. He was determined to get you to look at his face and you were determined to not accidentally see his dick again.
“For a shrine maiden you’re rather bratty.” Satoru teased, on hand fiddling with the worn sleeve of your kimono. That caught your attention and your gaze shifted, a small burst of anger shooting through your veins. You met his gaze, ignoring the warm wave of emotion that curled in your abdomen. Satoru’s jewel-like eyes glittered with amusement. He was so close you could see his lashes, silver white and so fine that it looked almost as if he had snow stuck to his eyelids.
“What do you want?” You sighed, clenching your heads together in an attempt to suppress a shiver. Satoru’s gaze narrowed slightly, his playful look melting away and suddenly, you felt exposed. As if he had undressed you and were peering past your flesh and into your soul. The look stole your breath away.
“When are you going to tell me what's bothering you?” His voice was low, warm breath tickling your cheek as he leaned in and ran a finger from your shoulder to your elbow. The shiver rippled across your flesh accompanied by a burst of heat between your thighs. You flushed, resisting the urge to slap his hand away.
“You need to learn some decorum.” You muttered, shivering again as his large hand rested gently on top of yours. The concerned, piercing look vanished, replaced again by the teasing and idiotic grin of his. You were beginning to realize that his cheerful and annoying exterior was a mask. Despite being a divine being, he had the behavioral habits of a human. It was odd.
You let out an outrange gasp as suddenly Satoru pitched backwards, falling into the pool. The move gave you a clear eyeful of his nether region in all its glory. He cackled as he surfaced, flicking a handful of water towards you.
“You ass!” You sputtered, scooching backwards with a glare. Satoru shot you a grin that was beyond pleased.
“That’s no way to talk to your God now is it?”
“I am tired” You finally murmured, watching as Yuji batted a small blue candy across the path.
The day after Ama had been laid to rest, you had made the long trek back to the village. It was your duty after all. Mahito did not join you. The man had taken to skulking around the shrine, always just a few feet away. You could feel his gaze on your skin, the hidden intensity that was brewing just under his pallid flesh. It scared you. But you were alone and you had to be unshakable. You had to appear as Ama did, cold and hard in the light of the world.
The Village elders were not saddened by Ama’s passing. It had been expected and if they had been honest with you, they had been wanting it for some time. They hated Ama as much as she hated them. The follies of the elderly, holding onto grudges decades later.
You had merely nodded when they appointed you as the new Shrine keeper. It made sense, Mahito was still considered an outsider of sorts. You didn’t care either way. The village hadn’t changed since you had last seen it. Your parents were older, but still stuck in their ways. They had come to you, whispering about how it wasn’t too late to marry, to have offspring.
You had left without a word, stopping only once to buy a small canvas bag of candy.
“You could join me.” Satoru teased, flicking an orange candy towards you. Rolling your eyes, you took it, gently blowing a speck of dirt off before popping it in your mouth. The God pouted at you, cramming a handful of the sweets into his mouth before dipping beneath the steaming water. He was like a child sometimes, his cheerfully obstinate attitude boardline annoying at times.
That is why you didn’t tell him. Didn’t mention the footsteps that kept you awake. Didn’t tell him how sometimes, the door to your room would slide open just a crack. How one pale eye would press against the slit and watch you for hours. You didn’t tell him how you slept waiting for him after the bell tolled. How his hand on your shoulder woke you from the micro naps. Didn’t tell him how you napped in the forest, under fallen trees in beds of moss. Because the shrine wasn’t safe any more. A beast lurked within the halls, waiting for you to falter.
“I’m just saying.” Satoru reemerged, “Maybe the steam will wash away your stinking attitude.”
You leveled a glare at the man, grateful that he couldn’t see the action. It was for sure blasphemy to do so and you took a tiny amount of satisfaction in the action.
“You make ask one blasphemous question.” Satoru for once hadn’t jumped right into the bath. He sat in an ornate sky blue kimono adorned with golden cranes, propped on one elbow against a large rock. The look on his face spelled trouble, the man could barely contain the grin that spread across his face. The sunlight streaming through the pines tinted the tips of his hair a soft yellow. It gave him an oddly homely look, his face somehow softer when not framed in pure white. The look wasn’t enough to hide amusement that was slowly growing in intensity. He was baiting you, seemingly already knowing what you would want to ask.
You were tempted to make your question about his habit of wearing women’s kimonos. Part of you was curious if there was a Mrs. God of the bath. But another, smaller part of yourself didn’t want to ever find the answer to that question.
You sat, carefully tucking your legs beneath you as you mulled over what exactly to ask. Yuji flopped over next to Satoru, the orange tabby squirming about on the stone as he waited to be pet.
“Are you actually blind?” You tensed as you asked the question, fully expecting to have failed the test he put forward. Ama had misled you on the other facts about the God and you had been burning with curiosity about if his need for a guide was just another inaccuracy. It wasn’t a test however, Satoru merely tilted his head as he considered the question.
“No.” He looked serious for once, the expression killing the burst of irritation that threaded through your veins. Satoru drummed his fingers against the mossy stone path, stopping with a smile as Yuji butted his head against the god’s hand.
“I have sight, I just can’t bear to use it in your realm.” He gestured around the two of you, face half twisted in a grimace.
“It’s too much. There’s too much going on with you humans and your curses and prayers.”
Satoru ran a hand over his face, one glittering blue eye peeking out from between a crack in his fingers. You chewed at your bottom lip, unsure of how to respond. His answer really didn’t make sense.
“Look.” Satoru moved until he sat before you, hands on your knees as he leaned forward. You stiffened at his closeness, heart beat skyrocketing as his warm breath tickled your face. Even sitting he was taller than you.
“Look at me.” He took your face in his hands, directing your gaze. You held your breath, afraid to breathe on him. It was terrifying being so close to him.
This close you could see every long eyelash. They glittered, silvery white like the wings of a crane, so long that they touched his cheeks with each blink. Up this close you could smell him as well, the scent of bergamot and oranges filling your nose.
“For a few seconds, I’ll look.”
You weren’t sure what he meant by that and nodded stiffly. All you could think about was his hands, thin fingers that sat on your cheeks, thumbs barely touching the corners of your lips. He was warm, his skin was soft. In that moment, Satoru felt human to you.
And in the next moment, you understood exactly what he meant.
As you stared, something changed and all of sudden his eyes were no longer shiny gems. He blinked and all of a sudden you were staring at stars. Satoru’s eyes were blue and radiant, clearer than the sky and deeper than the sea. They glitter as if filled with a thousand stars. As if someone had compressed all of the night sky beneath the sea.
It took your breath away. He was beautiful and terrifying all at once. And you felt utterly insignificant. He could see you, all of you.
And then he blinked again and you were staring at his jewel-like eyes. They seemed dull in comparison, still beautiful, yes. But so dull in comparison to the beauty he had shown you for just a moment.
“You have issues.” Satoru quipped, letting your face go. You scowled at him, rolling your eyes at his perfect ruining of the moment. Once again he was the flippant man who you could barely call a god. You looked away as he stood and stripped, the man jumping into the steaming pond with a laugh.
“No thank you, My Lord.” Your response dripped with sarcasm, the last two words twisting on your tongue slightly. Satoru frowned at that, eyes narrowing as he picked through the remaining candies.
“Careful there, human. I can hear your disdain.” He waggled a finger in your direction, an absolutely maniacal grin on his face, “I might have to punish your sinful mouth.”
You hoped he could feel the glare you leveled at him. His playful banter may have been welcome under better circumstances. But today, after weeks of practically no sleep, you were tired of the teasing.
Satoru seemed oblivious, popping the last of the candy into his mouth. He rested his chin on his arms, glittering eyes running over your form. For a moment you froze, certain he could see you. See the pain and exhaustion that sat on your shoulders. But no, it was the lack of sleep getting to you.
The walk back to the burnt tree was painful, you felt dizzy and all you could think of was your bed. You barely registered the warmth of his hand on your shoulder until it was gone. Satoru left without a word, fizzling from the mortal world as he always did.
You stood for a moment, swaying before you began the long walk back. Yuji followed you carefully. The cat had an easier time of traversing the twisting roots. He was kind to you however, sticking close as you stumbled clumsily back to the shrine.
“Where were you?” It was the person you least wanted to see. Mahito leaned against the entrance of the shrine. His black robes clung to his thin form like a death shroud. You felt a dull pang of anger. He must be sleeping whenever you were away from the shrine. His late night stalking seemed to have no effect on him, the man always alert, shiny eyes staring at you from beneath his lank gray hair.
Skirting around him, you scooped Yuji up, pointedly not looking at the man.
“Shrine duties.” You offered quietly over your shoulder. Mahito pushed off the wall, walking beside you as you slowly made your way deep into the shrine. He smelled odd, musty and wet as if he had spent the day in a basement. The smell filled your head, adding to the dizziness that already clung to your mind. You felt like passing out, but he was the last one you would let know that.
“I could help.” Mahito took a few rushed steps, standing before you and halting your path. You squinted at him, tightening on your grip on Yuji. In that moment you realized how much taller he was than you. That his form, as thin as it was, was muscled. He had one hand in his hair, allowing the sleeve of his robes to shift. You could see his hidden strength rippling under his plaid flesh.
“You haven’t been sleeping.” A statement, not a question. His eyes raked over your face, looking for the cracks in your exterior. You merely titled your head to one side, leveling glare at the man.
“I am the head of the shrine now. When I have something I’ll let you know.” You pushed past him, heading to your room without a glance backwards.
Months passed. Summer heat, then fall winds, until winter blanketed the pines in snow. Sleeping outside was no longer an option. Now you took rest at odd moments, hidden in the nooks and crannies of the shrine. Never a full sleep and never for more than 15 minutes at a time. You were becoming a husk.
Satoru knew it, the man’s teasing tone melting into concern. He was softer with you, gentle hand lingering longer than it usually did. You grew quiet, your energy focused on just existing.
And as a husk, you faltered.
One night in your room, on the soft blankets of your bed, your body finally caved. The need to sleep crashed into you like a tsunami, drowning you under the blanket of exhaustion. You fell asleep, alone in your room.
When you awoke it was a struggle to pull yourself from sleep. The sleep was so deep that it was as if you were trying to pull yourself from a pool of syrup. It coated the insides of your lungs and mind, trying to suffocate you back into the deep abyss of sleep. Your eyelids slipped open, the action achingly slow. It felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds. For a moment all you perceived was the deep darkness your room was cast in. The night had seeped in your room through the open door.
Open door.
The realization sent a jolt of panic through you, throwing off the last shreds of sleepiness from your mind. Clarity hit you like a bolt of lighting and it was then that you realized the predicament you were in.
A hand, cold and clammy, was pressed against your mouth.
You let out an enraged shriek, the sound muffled as the hand pressed harder against your mouth. The pressure was crushing, thumb digging painfully into the soft skin of your cheek. You struggled against Mahito, one hand coming up to swing at him. The pale man leered down at you, his other hand already beneath your kimono, thumb digging into the soft flesh of your left thigh.
He straddled your other thigh, erection straining against his robes and your skin.
You let out an indignant scream, teeth scraping at the skin of his palm.
“Shut up.” Mahito hissed, leaning in, his weight crushing as he put his face close to yours. You glared at him, raking your nails over his arms and shoulders. His clammy lips were on your skin, pressing against your neck as his warm breath stuttered out.
To your right, a loud hiss sounded. Yuji, back from one of his nighttime walks. The orange tabby ran at the man, hissing and spitting up a storm as he sunk his claws into the hand at your thigh. Mahito howled in pain, hand pulling away from your mouth as he backhanded Yuji. He hit the cat with such force that the small creature flew through the shoji screen to your room with a whimper.
You let out your own howl, anger and pain mixing in an animalistic noise. With his weight shifted, you were able to partially sit up, craning your neck back before whipping forward and headbutting the man. Mahito let out a gurgling cry, warm blood spattering on the front of your kimono as he fell backwards. With a cry, you kicked him off, heels connecting with his stomach and groin as you flailed about.
Without a second thought you were up, pushing through the remains of your door and picking up Yuji. The tabby was limp in your arms and a choking sob spilled from your lips as you fled from the shrine. Your feet stung against the rough stone and as you made it to the front entrance, the cold hit you, seeping into your skin.
“Wake up kitty.” Warm tears stained your cheeks as you ran, contrasting the freezing snow that fell silently around you. “Please.”
The world was silent except for your broken sobs as you fled into the pines. Your cries echoed off the tall pines, making the dark woods sound plagued by ghosts. The snow was heavy, thick flakes quickly covering your tracks as you weaved through the dark trees. It was a small blessing as from behind you, Mahito was yelling. Snarling for you to return to the shrine as he attempted to follow you through the storm. Unlike him, you didn’t need to see to know where the burnt tree was. It was second nature at this point.
Your bare feet slid through the snow, toes jamming against the hidden tree roots as you scrambled for the only place your mind could think of.
But he wasn’t there. The tree stood alone, a dark jagged line against the blinding white of the snow. Satoru hadn’t called for you, of course you were alone. Your god wasn’t in the shrine, wasn’t on this mortal plane. He had left you alone when you needed him most. Satoru had left Ama alone when she needed him most.
What use is the God of baths? The God of an empty shrine and a single shrine maiden. Am I merely a plaything for the divine?
The snow clung to your cheeks, the cold seeping into your skin, your bones. In your arms, Yuji lay limp, you couldn’t even tell if he was even breathing. Part of you refused to look, refused to acknowledge the possibility that he was gone. That you were completely alone.
From a distance, the muffled shouting from Mahito rang out across the snow. You turned slightly, squinting through the snow. The weather was complete, it was snow that you had loved to watch as a child from the comfort of a warm bed. Now it was swallowing you whole. The snow covered your feet, the limbs were numb and you knew that within a few more moments the damage to them would be complete. Your fingers had paled, tinged with the unnatural blueish gray of frost damage. And you were growing warm.
‘There was a name for it’, you thought faintly, letting yourself sink to your knees. The growing drifts of snow swallowed your hips as you slumped down. There had been a boy in your village who had gone out in a particularly bad storm. No one knew why he had gone out, perhaps to play. Regardless of the reason, he had died, found days later half undressed in the snow. His parents had been confused but the village healer had murmured something about snow delirium.
Mahito’s shouting grew fainter and you couldn’t decide if it was him moving away or your hearing somehow going. You buried your face in Yuji’s warm fur, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. A dull ache burned in your chest, urging you to lie in the snow. To sleep, just for a moment.
“What have we here?” A low voice, smooth as silk and full of curiosity slid around you. It was soft and comforting in a way that was almost unsettling. With effort you looked up, brows furrowing as you took in the man who stood before you. Dressed in all black robes from head to toe, he stood out against the snow like a wraith. The wind seemed unable to touch him, the deep silk robes and his inky hair unnaturally still. He was like a statue, save for the occasional gentle brushing of snow from his robes. You blinked slowly up at him, taking in his fox like features, the long lashes that kissed his cheeks with each blink. He was the second most beautiful man you had ever seen.
Death has come to walk me away. You thought dully, standing with effort. Your limbs resisted you, joints stiff with the cold and groaning in protest. The man watched, his look a mix of mild curiosity and something that bordered on concern.
“You.” You began, voice hoarse and cracking with the effort, “You can take me but save him, please.” You held Yuji out with some effort, swaying as your breath stuttered in your chest. Your plea seemed to confuse the man, one thin eyebrow raising as he took in Yuji. You offered the cat to him, trying not to let the tears you felt dancing in your eyes fall. Your arms shook slightly, the cold full set in your muscles.
“You’re Satoru’s human.” It was a statement and a strange one at that. His words had you still, breath catching in your throat as finally, hot tears poured down your face.
“Yes. Yes, I am Satoru’s Human. His Shrine Maiden.” You sobbed, clutching Yuji to your chest again. The shadow of a man let out a low hum, eyes taking in your disheveled form. You knew he could see the blood, how your robes were hanging open in an unseemly way. Something in his eyes darkened and you flinched as his gaze suddenly snapped from you, fixing on a point over your right shoulder. Distantly, you could hear Mahito shouting, the words ‘Bitch’ and ‘Mine’ echoing faintly through the pines. The strange man heard it as well, his thin brows lowering until a thunderous scowl sat upon his face.
“A mortal dare lay hands upon a God’s possession?” His comment wasn’t for you, strangely enough it seemed directed at the sky. You felt a bit concerned at being called a possession. But the concern was faint, slowly fading as the last of the warmth seemed to drain from your limbs. With it went your strength and you found yourself crumpled in the snow again, arms locked in place as you cradled the limp form of Yuji. For a moment the world blurred, black spots popping across your field of vision as you went slightly limp.
“You’re safe now.”
A warm hand took yours, pulling you gently to your feet. And suddenly, the world was gone.
No. That wasn’t quite right.
The world fell away.
You both existed and didn’t, pulled into the great expanse that was the home of the stars. Earth as you knew it, the pines and the snow scattered into wisps akin to mist. The sky swelled around you and suddenly you saw it. The home of the divine. Beyond the clouds, twisted in among the stars. It glittered as the largest star itself, a shifting space. First a palace, then a planet, a forest, a shrine, then back to a palace.
There was no hot, no cold. You weren’t even sure you would call the state you found yourself in as ‘alive’. It was a state of existence that transcended the physical. Yuji was both his own bright soul and yet he was part of yours, intertwined in what was your chest.
The man in black robes was more physically there, he seemed able to keep his shape despite the odd ripples and the twisting urge to just…dissipate.
Your guide landed elegantly upon the shimmering marble floors, tugging your floating and dumb struck existence down. Warmth radiated from his hand, through you until suddenly you existed again.
You let out a sharp and startled gasp, fingers digging into Yuji’s fur as you reeled at the sight around you. It was beautiful, otherworldly and entirely too much. You faintly registered the existence of other beings passing by, their presence immense and overwhelming.
The floor was white, then gold, then shimmering like sunlight caught in a raindrop. Doors faded into existence and opened to reveal worlds beyond your comprehension. Beings that looked human stepped from them and down hallways that built themselves. This realm was never ending and never resting. It’s form twisted and bent to the needs of the individuals that traversed it.
The largest man you had ever seen stalked past. His hair was the color cherry blossoms and he had too many arms. You caught his eyes and shivered at the look of pure disgust that twisted his already mangled face. His form was familiar, something you had seen on a scrap of aged parchment. A demon that used to walk among men.
The realm was living. It’s consciousness touched yours, gently probing. Like a curious cat it was looking in every nook and cranny, quietly waiting for you to give it a nudge. If you so willed it, the realm would twist for you, become the path to wherever you needed.
A woman emerged from a door shaped like a coffin lid. It was almost too small for her to exit, and she had to twist herself like a cat to pull free. Her long white hair covered one eye, falling down her back in luscious waves. She paused at the sight of you, single dark brown eye taking you before she offered you a small nod. You found yourself compelled to nod back, watching as she turned and sauntered up a staircase made of stardust.
“Look at me.” It was the man in black robes, one pale hand lifting your chin. You shivered at his touch, brows furrowing as another wave of confusion rocked you. In your arms, Yuji stirred faintly, head lifting weakly. You blinked, gaze shifting from the cat, to the man in black, then back to the twisting palace around you.
Behind your guide was a new man, his tired eyes pinching in the corners as he came to a full stop to look at you. Unlike the other beings of this place, he was in a full western style suit. It was a dull gray, contrasting with the glimmering almost gold color of his hair. Exhaustion visibly clung to him, you could feel it through the realm’s odd connection. It made you sway slightly, lightheaded in its intensity. He let out a sigh, making a point to turn and walk in the opposite direction.
“You survived. Surprising given how close to death you were.” The man murmured, a strand of his dark hair falling in his face as he leaned closer. He ran one long finger down the side of your face, frowning slightly at something he saw.
“Did I die?” You asked weakly, afraid of the answer. Your odd companion raised one eyebrow, straightening as he tilted his head to shoot you a rather cold look.
“I’m the god of curses. Not death.” He paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I suppose however I have assisted in cursing a human or ten to death.”
He saw your look of confused terror and offered you a comforting smile. “Suguru. Call me Suguru.”
You blinked, holding Yuji a little closer as you inhaled in an attempt to calm yourself. Everything was happening too fast. You were still reeling from Mahito’s attempted assault.
“Where is Satoru?” You almost didn’t dare to ask. Part of you was still full of dull anger at the fact that he hadn’t been there, that he hadn’t been the one to tug you into this divine realm. And a smaller, nasty part, was wondering if he had abandoned you. The final shrine maiden of the deep pines left to tend an empty shrine.
Suguru smiled and this time it was awful. A terrifying grin that made the corners of his dark eyes crinkle. It was as if all of a sudden you were an injured deer standing in front of a bear.
“He’s taking care of matters on the mortal plane.”
You knew without asking that Mahito was most likely facing a terrible terrible death. It made you feel small for some reason. Small and utterly human.
“I’ll take you to his realm.”
You blinked at that, slowly following him as Suguru made his way quickly through the shifting palace. The building seemed to understand that you were human, tiles of marble clicking into place before your very feet as you followed behind a God that had no need for such niceties. He walked across the bare expanse of space as if it were nothing. It most likely was, the man was divine.
Almost as divine as Satoru. You thought. As if he knew, Suguru’s head jerked, the man shooting a look over his shoulder. Surely he couldn’t read your mind.
‘I certainly can’ It was his voice, inside your mind and poking at the innermost expanse of your brain. You swallowed your thoughts, trying to keep your mind clear as you followed. It was easy enough to do, your mind drowning in anxiety as you tried to avoid the dark God’s glances.
In your arms, Yuji had fully awoken. He sat contently in your arms as if nothing had occurred. Looking down at him, you watched him blink back up at you, a small purring starting up in his chest as he settled deeper in your arms. The tabby seemed un-bothered by the shifting world around you. The marble floor, golden walls and plant life that seemed to blink in and out of existence. All of them ignored in favor of staring up at you. As if to the small orange cat, you were somehow above all else.
“One little jump.” Suguru turned, wrapping one arm around your waist as you came to a halt beside him. Before you was a door way and beyond it, a deep void of black littered by many stars. You shot him a questioning look, the hall you had been in simply ended. There was nowhere to jump to.
The smile Suguru gave you this time was not at all comforting. It was better than his vicious smile, but it still made your stomach churn as his grip tightened.
“Wh-” Your breath left your body before you could complete the word. Suguru had jumped, straight into the void and you were being sucked down. Faster than anything humanly possible. You would have screamed if it were possible, but the void was all around you, crushing you.
And then you were back on your feet in an endless field of soft white grass. Your vision swam for a moment and you struggled to stay upright. Yuji let out a little whine, the cat puffed up as he too fought the after effects of the jump.
“Tell Satoru he owes me.” And Suguru was gone. You stood for a moment, frowning at the space where he had left you. The field was silent, stretching on for miles. The grass moved in a warm breeze tickling your feet.
Everything was too informal. Your mind yelled at you that you must’ve died. Something had happened in the snow and now your mind was showing you a nice little fantasy before you died.
Perhaps you had died back in the forest when Ama had asked you to make the first trek to the bath. Tripped on a tree root and fell down the mountain side.
“Oh!” You blinked, backing up a step as a dark shape cut through the field. It was large and fast and on you before you could run.
“OH!” You let out a laugh that was a mix of relief and astonishment. A large black dog stood before you, intently sniffing the edges of your kimono. He was shaggy, fur sticking up oddly in places. The dog let out a small bark, nudging your hip with his nose. From your arms Yuji let out a meow, ears pulled back as he stared down at the dog. They stared at each other for a moment, a silent conversation rippling between them. Then they relaxed, Yuji settling in your arms and the dog wagging his tail happily.
He nudged your hand again, taking a step forward. When you didn’t follow he repeated the action, letting out a low ‘boof’ noise. You took a step forward, slowly following the large dog as he trotted across the field.
For a while there was nothing but the pale grass and the warm breeze. Occasionally you could hear things drifting through the lazy wind. Laughter, conversations, a whisper, all of them faint like memories you couldn’t quite recall. Despite the stress of being pulled to this place, you didn’t grow tired as you walked. It was as if time didn’t exist in this place, keeping the aches of mortal life at bay.
From the grass, a house arose. Logically you knew you should have been able to see the sprawling estate from where you entered the field. But like the great hall before it, the building seemed to materialize from the air, building itself stone by stone.
As the main door slid into place, a zen garden entrance built itself around you and your companion. You let out a small gasp as the grass slid away from your feet, small stone pebbles quickly taking its place. It made you stumble slightly and at your side, the dog quickly leaned into you to provide support.
You stared in awe at the tall stone walls and the deep blue tile of the roof. This estate was much like the ones in your world. Built normally for the lords of the land and something you had only observed in paintings. No one in your village was wealthy enough for an estate of any kind. Not even the elders who were born from old noble families. Like the traditions they clung to, they had become obsolete under the new world’s technology.
You stepped up to the door, murmuring a small ‘hello’ as you tentatively entered. The estate was silent, no servants it seemed and the master of the house had yet to appear.
Yuji lept from your arms, trotting down the long main hallway after the shaggy dog. You followed them nervously, wincing as your bruised and dirty feet touched the spotless flooring. It felt wrong to sully this grande estate with your mere presence.
But there was no one around to complain. You stepped carefully regardless, trailing past multiple sitting rooms, closets, open spaces you had no name for. There were rooms full of paintings and glass sculptures. Rooms full of the most beautiful kimonos you had ever seen, rooms filled with books and scrolls strewn about like small mountains made of paper. There were rooms that opened into the field again, the wood flooring twisting strangely into the pale field as if the world and the estate were one structure.
The shaggy dog stopped at one of the doorways, darting into the room and flopping onto a large futon. You stepped after him, smiling as you realized it was the dog’s room. There were ink portraits of the shaggy beast all over the wall, the scrolls hanging in a neat line.
“Are you Megumi?” You asked the dog. Megumi huffed in response, shifting to let Yuji sit on the futon next to him. His job seemed complete and now the dog was drifting off to sleep with your cat at his side. You watched them quietly for a moment before exiting the room.
The hallway of the estate seemed endless, stretching on impossibly long. Logically you knew there was no way it could fit inside the exterior estate you had seen. But like the rest of this realm, it seemed part of a large odd being.
You grimaced as you passed a mirror, stopping taking in the bags under your eyes. Bruises littered your exposed skin, in part from Mahito’s assault. But the blueish tint persisted in your fingers and toes. You wiggled your toes, wincing at the small twinge of pain that radiated up your legs. Leaning forward you took in the blood dried over your chest and kimono, grimacing as you scratched a nail over one patch.
I could use a shower. You thought sourly, flicking a pain needle from your shoulder. An odd warmth tickled the back of your mind and you flinched as next to the mirror, a doorway appeared. It was a plain sliding door, unassuming and entirely out of place in the luxurious hallway. You stared at it for a moment and then slid it open cautiously.
It was a bathing room. Much more luxurious than you had ever been in, but still simpler than the halls around you. White tile lined the wall, small pale blue flowers painted here and there. They led to a large stone bath inset in the floor, already filled to the brim with steaming water.
Stepping inside the room, you carefully slid the door closed before peeling your kimono off. It fell with a sad rustle onto the clean tile, looking like a rag more than an outfit.
Shuffling over to the bath, you leaned over it, taking in the crystal clear water. It poured quietly into the pool from a brass crane head. But it didn’t overfill, despite the constant flow, instead the water lapped at the stone edge of the bath.
Almost too clean, You mused, turning around to look for a container for some water. It felt rude to even think about stepping in the bath before attempting to scrub some of the grime off. The room was empty and you almost had time to frown. But the house knew what you wanted. You jumped as a small wooden bucket suddenly popped out of thin air, clattering to the floor and spilling a small vial onto the tile. You approached it slowly, picking both items up with hesitation. They appeared normal enough, smooth wood and beautiful ceramic. Filling the bucket with water, you twisted the vial open, sniffing it cautiously.
The smell of lychee and something else that was oddly sweet drifted from the neck of the bottle. It reminded you a bit of some of the candies Satoru had a fondness for. You sat on the floor and then paused. There was nothing to use to wash yourself with.
This time the house dropped a washcloth right on your face. You laughed at the magic and absurdity of it, trying your best to think thankful thoughts towards the house.
As quickly as you could you scrubbed your skin, praying for the sensation of Mahito’s hands to leave your skin. As much as you didn’t want to acknowledge it, his touch clung to you like ghostly hands.
Perhaps boiling water will do the job. You tossed the washcloth into the bucket, noting with a grimace how dirty the water within was. As you stepped into the warm water, the bucket vanished with a small pop. You stared for a moment in shock, one foot submerged.
“Thank you.” You slid into the water, looking up at the ceiling. A few of the tiles rippled, as if the estate were acknowledging your thanks.
The water, like the realm it was in, was divine. You let out a sigh, sinking to your chin and closing your eyes. The warm water seemed to seep into every pore, relaxing your muscles and pushing the sensation of your assault from your skin. You allowed yourself to sink under the water.
From head to toe, you were warm, you felt safe. Alone, but safe. Squeezing your eyes closed even tighter, you fought the tears that welled in your throat. A twisting mix of grief and anger sat in your throat and you fought to swallow it. Beneath the surface, you let out a silent scream of frustration.
You should have swallowed water with such a stupid action. But the house had shifted again and your head was above water, the bath suddenly less deep. You let out a small sigh, resting your chin on your knees. No hidden emotions it was, at least not beneath bath water.
Hours passed and still the water remained a consistent perfect temperature. In the steam you had time to ponder. To face the emotions that roiled beneath your skin. You had been assaulted, yanked into a realm you had no place in and now you were alone in a magical house.
What future was there for you? Could you even go back to the shrine, to the village?
No.
There was no one there for you. No one who wanted to take the long trek up to the shrine. Like the old temple, you were to be forgotten up on the mountain between the pines. As with the shrine keepers before you, your bones were meant to grow mossy beneath tree roots and the rubble of the temple as it moldered and fell.
Looking at your reflection, you thought about Satoru, of why he had even been in the mortal realm.
“Surely there are baths in the Divine realm?” You asked, watching as the god felt his way along the stone edge of the tub, the man slowly stalking after Yuji. The cat seemed amused, stepping just out of grasp but chirping to let Satoru know exactly how far off he was.
“Of course there are.” The look he shot over his shoulder told you exactly how stupid he found the question. You flushed, rolling your eyes as he ignored the unspoken question.
“Then why come here?” You moved closer to the edge of the pool, daring to dip your toes into the warm water. It was a move you would never do when he was closer, you had a feeling the god would find it funny to pull you in.
“How else can I answer prayers?” Satoru grabbed for Yuji, missing as the cat neatly jumped over his grasp and bolted back towards you. The little cat was triumphant, butting his head against your hip with a purr. You noted with amusement that he looked incredibly smug.
“If I never experience the simple tasks of humanity, how can I accurately gauge the urgency of a prayer?”
You were tempted to tell him that bathing was perhaps not the best thing to gauge prayers against. But your train of thought was interrupted as his hand landed on your foot. You froze, tensing as you waited to be pulled under the water. He had somehow moved faster and farther than was possible. You had blinked and he had moved.
Satoru didn’t pull you under however, his long fingers wrapping around your ankle as he stared up at you.
“I bathe here to listen to my shrine keepers. To hear about humanity from a human.”
You merely hummed in response, pulse thundering in your ear as his thumb gently rubbed against your skin. There was a heat in your veins, shooting from his touch to your abdomen, coiling and trembling as you stared into his eyes.
“What good is a God who can’t listen?”
You ruminated on the past until your skin grew pruney from sitting in the water for so long. The house in its odd connection with you had a towel and new kimono all ready before you even fully stepped from the bath.
The kimono, much like the house, was ridiculously luxurious. A light purple with hand stitched cranes across the bottom. They twisted across the purple in a long line, wings outstretched and in mid motion. You felt too plain and human to wear such a garment. Spun from the finest silk, it slid on like a second skin. Perfectly tailored to fit you. Even the obi, you found yourself in awe of the cream colored fabric and the literal thousands of tiny stitched sage green bamboo shoots. These were the clothing of a woman far more grand than yourself. Royalty wore such items, not humble shrine keepters. Sliding the obi into place you patted the fabric absentmindedly.
You had bathed, gotten rid of your ruined kimono and now had no idea what to do. It felt odd to be alone in such a vast estate. Yes Megumi and Yuji were with you, but if you had to guess, they would most likely be sleeping for a while. You weren’t sure how, but you were fairly certain Yuji had been brought back to life. The cat had been so still in your arms, yet this realm seemed to have given him a second chance. You were sure the small tabby must be exhausted from whatever blessing had brought him back.
You were alone, so you wandered. The hallway was never ending, twisting and turning here and there. You passed countless sitting rooms, kitchens and bathrooms that were larger than the entire shrine. There was no sense of time in this place. No need to eat nor to sleep. You existed in a way that was outside of being human. Still, the habits of humanity called to you. In one of the ornate kitchens you stopped and ate the small meal the house pulled into existence. Rice, miso soup and an egg. It was simple but the best meal you had eaten in ages. You cried as you ate, wiping tears away as you savored the food.
The house seemed to understand what you needed before you did. To your surprise you found a room opening soon after you finished eating. It was simple, the house seeming to know the luxurious rooms made you uncomfortable. This room was small, with a plush futon and blankets within. You were quick to drop to the futon, pulling the blankets around you. The room was warm and quiet. Despite being in a state without physical needs, the exhaustion from the mortal realm was still in your bones and you quickly drifted off to sleep.
You had no idea how long you slept for. All you knew is you awoke with a jerk, breath catching in your throat. For a second your brain grappled with the fact that you were not in the shrine, panic swelling in your chest. But the house creaked around you, the sound bringing the world into focus.
Satoru was crouched before you, chin in one hand as he seemingly watched you. He smiled as you sat up. His eyes were the incredible star like blue again, glittering as if lit from within. It was a tad unsettling, but for the most part you found yourself breathless, pinned by his gaze.
“Sleep well?” His hair was damp, laying flatter against his head than normal. You found yourself reaching out and flicking at one snowy strand with a frown. The man ducked away from your touch, grabbing your hand and pulling you up as he stood. He seemed freshly bathed and manic. The grin he normally wore when making teasing comments was plastered across his face. He was practically bouncing as he pulled you from the room.
“Have you seen the whole house?”
You stumbled after him sleepy, murmuring that you doubted you could if you tried. Satoru laughed at that, shooting you a brilliant smile. He pulled you excitedly from room to room and you realized that now the estate actually had a normal layout. It was a modest size, still littered with luxury, but you could actually make sense of it.
“Why does it look so different?” You stopped in your tracks, tugging your hand from Satoru’s. The man paused, running a hand through his snowy hair. He seemed surprised at the question, brilliant eyes roving over your form.
“I was away. The realm scatters a bit when I'm not here.”
The answer made some sense. From what little you could tell, you knew it was living. Perhaps not as you were but it existed as its own being in the realm of the gods.
Satoru gently grabbed your hand again, tugging you over to a large window. From here you could see the pale field and beyond it, a glittering blue sea. You had never had the chance to see the ocean when you were in the mortal realm. It was too far a trek, but the stories you had heard didn’t do the body of water justice.
“We can go there later, I can show you the prayers that wash ashore.” Satoru murmured. He was standing behind you, warm breath tickling your ear as he spoke. You shuddered slightly, leaning against him as you stared out across the field. He was warm, large form easily overshadowing yours. One hand came up, resting on your shoulder, much like he had just days ago. It was a familiar feeling and you felt yourself melting against him.
Emotions you had crushed and swallowed came bubbling to the surface. A burning ache coiled in your stomach, tangling with the heat that radiated from his touch on your shoulder. You tilted your head slightly, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Satoru was staring at you intently, his gaze asking an unspoken question. He looked hungry. It both thrilled and scared you. A shudder ran through you as you turned back, looking at his reflection in the glass.
“Yes” You offered an answer to the question he had not yet asked. A thrill of heat rippling from your belly to your extremities.
His hand slid down your side, large fingers curling into the silk of your kimono. You shuddered, heat coiling in your stomach as his warm breath tickled your right ear. Satoru paused, his other hand gently holding your waist.
“Are you sure?” The question was spoken softly, his normal teasing tone replaced by something so gentle that for a moment you were speechless. But only a moment, you nodded, placing your hand over his, fingers sliding to his wrist in a silent gesture asking him to continue.
The hand that had been tangled in your kimono, dipped beneath it, pushing past the silk of your juban beneath and pausing as he touched the bare flesh of your thigh. Your breath hitched, face flushing as you realized that the house had never provided you undergarments other than the juban. If it could, you were sure the house would be chuckling, in perfect sync with its master.
Satoru was laughing, the sound low and breathy as he pulled you closer. Your back was pressed firmly against his broad chest and you let out a small gasp as you felt his erection press against your backside.
His hand moved to the juncture between your thighs, warm fingertips sliding over your clit and delving into your folds in an inquisitive motion. You shuddered, breath hitching as you struggled to stay upright. A few seconds pressed against him, that's all it had taken for you to become soaking wet. Satoru chuckled in your ear, lips pressing against the soft skin of your throat as he gently swirled his finger tip around your entrance. The muscles fluttered in response, clenching around nothing as he teased the opening. Your legs shook and you gripped the hand that held on your waist in a death grip. He was the only thing keeping you upright, his gentle actions somehow making your mind both empty and overstimulated all at once.
“Do I really have such an effect on you?” It was the teasing tone you were used to and you shot a look over your shoulder, knowing that your flushed face and parted lips did nothing to convey the small flame of irritation. The emotion dissolved as his lips captured yours. Your breath caught as you melted into the kiss, his lips were warm, sliding against yours with a barely contained hunger. Satoru was shaking slightly, breath puffing from his nose sharply as he licked against your lips.
The arm at your waist slid up, finding its way beneath your kimono and grasping your breast. You moaned against his lips, leaning into the touch as Satoru ran his thumb over the peak of your nipple. The moan granted him entry and you shuddered as his tongue ran over your teeth, tangling with your own as he deepened the kiss. It was desperate and feral, your teeth clinking together as each kiss grew sloppier and more hungry.
The hand on your breast tightened, steadying the both of you as Satoru plunged a finger into your entrance. There was a brief sharp pain and you froze for a moment before relaxing again. The sensation dissolved into pleasure as he gently delved deeper. The rough pad of his finger rubbed against the sensitive inner heat of your pussy. You shook in his grip, hips moving in sync with his finger thrusting. The man moaned into your mouth adding another finger. It stretched you, but felt divine. Satoru was blessed with long fingers, his touch reaching the deep sensitive parts within you. He curled his fingers, hitting a new, deeper spot that sent a wave of pleasure through your veins.
A low moan split the air as you broke the kiss, neck again slightly. You gripped his wrist in an attempt to steady yourself, hips grinding gently against his palm as Saturo continued his gentle finger fucking. The god shifted, knee nudging your right thigh aside and opening you wider to him, The action had your clit pressing against his palm, the warm skin rubbing gently with each thrust of his finger. It was delightful and too much. You squirmed, panting in his arms as he gently bit at your neck, tongue laving against your pulse.
“S-shouldn’t.” Your words stuck in your throat as you struggled to stay upright, “Shouldn’t we be in bed?”
Your flush deepend as Satoru let out a sharp laugh. It was no secret you were inexperienced, the life of a shrine maiden was one of celibacy. And he knew that, being one of the Gods who had no doubt set the rules for temples. You squirmed in his arms, mind fuzzy as his finger slipped from you, cunt suddenly clenching around nothing.
“We can.” Satoru lifted you easily, the quick action making you dizzy. You clutched your Kimono close, the garment mussed and only being held by your Obi. The room around you seemed to twist and then you gasped as suddenly you were in a different room. There was a lurch in your chest and for a moment you thought you might vomit.
“Sorry.” Satoru offered you a small grimace, gently setting you on a large plush bed. “First time is always unpleasant.”
How did we get here? You wondered, blinking up at the tall ceiling. This room was dark, the walls a blue that was almost black. Spots of glittering gold and white appeared here and there, vanishing almost as quickly as they appeared. You frowned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you took in the sight. Your first impression was wrong. The walls were clear. It was the night sky that twisted about you, the stars and clouds of dust playfully twisting about as small points of light.
“No one can see us here.” Saturo shed his own robes, the silk sliding off with a familiar noise. Just as on earth he was unabashed with his nudity. You might have thrown him a look had you not been in awe at the room around you. The bed, draped in warm furs, was the only furniture in the room. It was like a nest, slightly deeper in the center. You let yourself fall back, staring at the dancing space around you.
“How much can you see from here?” He had explained his ability to you and while you had an understanding, you had a feeling he had simplified it for you. Saturo grinned, stalking over to the bed and crawling onto it. He moved like a beast, each move calculated as he drew closer to his prey.
“I see everything.” It was a simple answer that implied such grandiosity that it was almost unimaginable. He crouched over you, a perfectly sculpted man. And he ignored the twisting beauty around him, instead focusing on you.
“Why me?” It was something that had been tugging at the back of your mind since he had first started teasing you. Without him ever stating it, you knew he was never like that with Ama and you had a feeling perhaps he had never been like that with any other mortal.
“Why not you?” The answer was followed by a grin that was so smug it was insufferable. You scoffed, lightly slapping his bicep. Saturo cackled, leaning in and capturing your lips. It was a non-answer and you decided you were fine with that. You melted against him, opening your thighs to allow his hips to grind against yours.
He was a man starved, one hand tangling in your hair as with the other he pinched and pulled at your left breast. You moaned against his lips, hips canting up against his. His cock slid against your wet folds, warm and stiff against your clit. The smooth skin gave way to the rough white thatch of hair at the base of his cock. It created a different kind of friction, one that sent lightning bolts of pleasure through you. The sensation made you shudder, hips shifting so you could open your legs wider. Satoru grunted in frustration at your kimono, tugging the silk roughly until the belt gave and you were able to slide your arms free. He slid his arms beneath you, mouth latching onto your breast as he lazy thrust against you.
It had you breathless, small choked moans leaving you as you grinded against him. There was a burning, tight sensation growing in your abdomen, building with each pass of your clit against his dripping cock. You chased it, slick folds pressing against his cock, creating a low lewd noise with each pass. Satoru moaned against your breast, the pace of his thrusting quickening as he matched your mindless desire. You threaded one hand through his hair, the other sliding over the expanse of his shoulders.
“So close.” You whispered, head falling back and eyes closing as you canted your hips against his.
Satoru let go of your breast with a small pop, leaning back and grinning down at you. A low whine of displeasure left you, lips pulling down in frustration as you panted up at him. He looked smug, one hand fisting around his cock as he gave it a quick pump, thumb smearing the mix of your juices and his precum over the head.
“Let me take you?” His voice was husky, the blue of his eye eclipsed by how blown his pupils were. You nodded, heart pounding in your ears. Excitement and lust coiled in your abdomen, you ached in a way you knew would only be satisfied once he was within you.
Satoru was not gentle you were coming to realize. He was careful, mindful of where each touch landed. But gentle was not a word you would use. He was hungry, impatient and feral in his need.
And you didn’t mind. His rough fingers dragged pleasure from deep within you. Each touch making your legs shake, back arch and moans slide from your throat. He was a beast but one that knew its prey well.
“Good.” Satoru huffed out. He remained as he was, kneeling, cock stiffly pointing upwards. You noted with a blush that his white patch of pubic hair was drenched from your earlier grinding.
Satoru shot you a grin that bordered on manic, taking your thighs in each hand and spreading them farther apart. You shivered slightly with the action, the wet between your thighs being brushed by cold. But only for an instant.
Satoru sheathed himself within you in one fluid motion. You let out a silent gasp, the air caught in your throat as the walls of your cunt fluttered about him. He stretched you completely, almost uncomfortably so. But the dull ache gave way to pleasure as he began to move.
Satoru seemed content to remain kneeling, his brilliant gaze locked on your face as he thrust into your warm heat. He looked powerful, muscles rippling with each thrust, an iron grip on your thighs. You shuddered beneath him, for a moment pleasure forgotten as you viewed the god above you. He was otherworldly. White hair shimmering as if made of stardust, blue eyes piercing your very soul.
The thoughts dissolved as he thrust again, dragging his cock nearly all the way out before plunging back into you. The pace he set was rough, each thrust pushed pleasure through you. Beneath him you were breathless, matching his roughness as best you could.
The pleasure was mind numbing, your legs shook in his grasp as the head of his member kissed deep within your heat, hitting your cervix with an aching accuracy. You arched, hips stuttering against his as you chased the heat coiling in your stomach. Each thrust built it higher and higher, a taut string close to snapping.
Faintly you registered that you were moaning, half words falling from your lips as you tried to ask him for more. To go faster.
Satoru laughed, the sound triumphant and breathless. He fell forward, capturing your lips with his, the hunger behind the action making his nose smash against yours. You didn’t mind the clumsiness and the slight pain. Arching against him, you panted against his mouth, arms sliding around his shoulders to pull him closer. Satoru’s kisses were sloppy, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip.
You moaned, hips canting against his as your clit caught against the rough hair at the base of his cock. It sent a thrill of pleasure through you and as you moaned, he thrust again, grinding his hips into you.
Breaking the kiss, Satoru moved his head to your neck, kissing the soft flesh beneath your ear.
“Cum for me.” The words were low and growled, sending a shiver down your spine. You huffed out a low moan, unable to respond. His hands were on your hips, the man kneeling again, lifting you on his lap as he thrusted up into your tight heat.
The change of position sent stars across your vision and finally, the heat in your abdomen snapped.
You came with a cry, hands clawing at Satoru’s back as he kept thrusting. The walls of your cunt squeezed and fluttered around him, your orgasm prolonged by the rough movements. You let your head nestle in the crook of his neck, panting as he kept going.
Satoru’s arms shook slightly, his movements becoming erratic as he fucked you. The grip on your hips was bruising as he drilled into you. Satoru shifted, his teeth catching on your shoulder as he let out a low snarl. You shivered as he finally came, the warmth of his release filling you completely.
For a moment the two of you remained locked in place. Satoru’s teeth in your shoulder, hands keeping your hips locked against his. Now, not trapped in the heat of lust, you felt hazy, mind reeling from the intensity of his actions.
“Sorry.” Satoru finally pulled back, gently lying you on the bed and rubbing his thumb over the red indents in your shoulder. You murmured that it was fine, arching with a gasp as he pulled his now flaccid cock from you.
Satoru disappeared for a moment, then was back, a towel in hand. You blinked, mouth parted to question him.
“Teleportation.” He muttered, concentrating on cleaning you, then himself before tossing the towel away. Satoru flopped next to you, tugging the blankets over the pair of you with a satisfied sigh.
You watched him, curled on your side. A sudden feeling of awkwardness suddenly filled you. What would happen to you now?
Satoru seemed unbothered, nestling close to you, one arm thrown casually over your waist.
“What now?” You asked, the words sticking slightly in your throat. You were afraid that he would tell you it was time to go back to the mortal realm. To the emptiness and lonely life.
Satoru’s eyes had closed, but he cracked one brilliant eye open, frowning.
“What do you mean?”
You bit your bottom lip, one hand coming up to pull the blanket closer to your chin.
“I’m human. I’m not meant to be here.”
Satoru hummed, opening his other eye to stare at you. His gaze seemed to read your soul and you shivered as his unblinking stare lingered.
“Do you want to go back?” His tone had a hidden emotion beneath it, something in his eyes making you hesitate before answering.
“No?”
He seemed pleased with that answer, the large grin you had come to secretly love. Satoru propped himself up on one below, looking down at you, expression becoming serious.
“Would you want to stay here forever?”
The question was odd but you nodded, hoping you understood him correctly. In the hours you had spent with him, you had come to enjoy Satoru’s teasing and playful nature. He was both a terrifyingly beautiful man and the biggest idiot you had ever met. An eternity with him, in the house surrounded by pale fields. You would enjoy that. Plus, Yuji would be safe, he wouldn’t know the pain that the mortal realm brought anymore.
Satoru sat up, blankets falling from him as he regarded you, face unreadable.
“You’re sure?”
You nodded again at his question, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket as you waited for whatever it was he was building to. Satoru was silent for a moment, then brought his hand to his mouth, biting down on his thumb.
You gasped at the dull noise it made, sitting up as you shot him a confused look. The man seemed unbothered, extending his hand to you as if offering you something.
“If you’re sure.” He was watching you closely, blue eyes following the slight changes in your body language as you glance at him, then his hand in confusion.
You blinked. Satoru’s blood was golden, beads that looked akin to jewelry sat neatly upon his skin. You glanced up at him again, eyes searching his face for an answer.
“I am sure.” You murmured, not quite understanding what he wanted you to do. Satoru smiled, lifting his thumb closer to your face and wiggling it.
“The blood of a god is coveted by some.” He looked strangely smug, “It contains the secret to immortality.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, waiting for the manic smile to hit and for the god to tell you it was a joke. But when he didn’t, you cautiously leaned forward, wrapping your lips around the digit.
His blood tasted of sunshine and yet was also nothing. You shuddered as you pulled back, nose wrinkling slightly as you licked your lips, swiping the remnants of the droplets. Nothing happened. You felt the same and you again waited for the infernal smile you knew he was going to throw your way.
“What would you like to be the goddess of?” Satoru asked, itching the thumb. You noted it was completely healed as if nothing had happened. For a moment you sat, mind racing as you struggled with the odd nothingness of what had occurred. Pondering the question, you flopped back down, pulling the blankets close as you thought. If he wasn’t playing a prank, what would you be best at?
You thought of the village that was your home and the gods they whispered about. Turning over different jobs, of things in nature you enjoyed. There were too many options. But finally, you thought of Ama, of the shrine. Of the loneliness the old woman had experienced.
“The goddess of forgotten shrines and their keepers.” You murmured. Satoru seemed surprised at your choice, humming as he thought.
“I think that one isn’t taken.” His brilliant blue gaze raked over your form and you shivered as a warmth spread through your limbs. It was as if you had gulped down sake, the sensation unlike anything else. A buzzing existed in your limbs, fizzing through your veins and nerves like sunlight itself was warming you from the inside out.
“There you are.” He laughed, reaching out with one long finger and tapping you on the nose. “It’ll be strange at first. Hearing them when they pray. But you’ll figure out how to filter it.”
You frowned at that, nestling deeper in the blankets as you concentrated.
Silence.
Then.
“Whoever resides here–”
“I’m sorry, I’m old–.”
“They forgot about this place, I hope my staying here doesn’t–”
“Are you still here? Can you —”
Fragments, barely whispers twisted through your mind. You sat upright, eyes unfocused as you tried to listen to them. There were too many and they were all so quiet.
“How many abandoned shrine keepers are there?” You turned, fighting back an odd sadness that swelled in your chest. Satoru hummed, leaning back on the plush pillows, fingers drumming lightly against his bare chest.
“Too many.” His piercing blue eyes fixed on the ceiling, “Plus the accidental shrines.”
You tilted your head at that, shivering slightly as another whisper danced through your mind.
“Humans create their own shrines without realizing it.” Satoru focused on you, reaching out to run a hand along your bare side.
“Children with sticks and plush toys. Adults with their particularly set up kitchens.” He shrugged, his expression one of amused resignation, “They don’t realize that they do it, that their thoughts are structured like prayers.”
Satoru’s gaze slid away from you, his expression becoming somber. “They tend to get ignored. None of us see merit in picking up their prayers.”
You swallowed the hurt and irritation that welled in your stomach. Satoru was a god, he had admitted to thinking something as simple as a bath let him see how humans lived. He and no doubt the others had such a removed view of how humanity lived. Human needs and emotions were foreign. Yes, Satoru had emotion. But it always seemed guarded or inappropriately placed.
You lay back in the blankets, dwelling on the echoed whispers in your mind.
“Will I disappear if they stop creating shrines? If they abandon the notion of gods?” You asked, eyes searching the dark expanse above. Satoru rolled over, slipping his arm over your waist and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“The last prayer Sukuna got was well over a thousand years ago. He’s become a bit of a recluse, but he’s still here.”
You had no idea who Sukuna was but the thought was comforting. Satoru rested his forehead against yours, flashing you a brilliant smile.
“You don’t have to worry.”
You raised an eyebrow at that, eyes searching his. The man snickered to himself as he continued “I’ll always be here to worship you.”
You rolled your eyes at that, letting a small puff of laughter out. His response tickled your mind however and a question arose.
“What are you even the god of?” You should have honestly asked sooner. With all his joking and lackadaisical attitude, you had assumed he was something soft and kind. But Satoru’s response about ignoring small shrines lended to a more arrogant nature under his cheerful facade.
The man grinned, the smile sharp and unlike anything you had seen before.
“I am the god of power.”
You quirked an eyebrow at that. “So, War, physical strength?”
He shook his head, then paused and nodded. “Yes and no.”
Satoru sat up, flexing his arms. You watched the muscles jump and ripple as he did so.
“There is also power in names, in blood ties. Power exists now in money and goods.”
He spread his arms wide, looking a tad manic.
“For humans, to feel powerful, look or sound powerful, they crave it.”
You shuddered as you listened, thinking of Mahito, of the village you had grown up in. Satoru looked at you, his gaze serious.
“I alone am a god ingrained in the nature of humans.”
You hummed at that, eyes shifting away from him and back to the great expanse of black. Whispers tickled the back of your mind, gentle wishes and murmured prayers for help twisting together into a droning hum.
“Ok not the only one but, the most powerful one.” You glanced back to see Satoru wiggling his eyebrows at you. Laughing, you pulled the blankets closer, peeking at him from around the soft fabric.
“The power god is the most powerful? How poetic.” Your tone was teasing and you let out a squeak as Satoru yanked the blankets up, sliding beneath with you. His face was close, the intense blue of his eyes drilling into your soul as he wagged a finger at you.
“New gods don’t get to be bratty to old gods.”
You snorted, “You’re right grandpa, I apologize.”
You shrieked as he started tickling you in response, Satoru cackling like a madman as he did so. While he might not have realized it, the interaction felt so human. It was a connection you had silently wished for while at the shrine. To have a friend to hold. One who you could laugh with.
“I’m going to do good for all of them.” You murmured when he finally stopped, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Satoru raised one eyebrow in question, his hands pulling you closer beneath the warm blankets.
“My shrine keepers.” You elaborated, “I won’t abandon them.”
Satoru hummed at that, “You better do good.” His tone was teasing, but the look on his face was serious. It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, the man sighing as he fiddled with one strand of his pale hair.
“I may have broken a rule or two by bringing you here and letting you become a god.”
Your mouth dropped open at that and you sat up, heart racing. Satoru saw your panic and was quick to follow, pulling you into a hug.
“As I said. I’m the best. I get to break rules.” His tone was too casual for your liking and you shot him a glare, irritation swelling in your throat. Satoru could tell you were about to snap out something harsh, the man burying his face in your shoulder.
“They might be mad, might take you aside to make sure I didn’t pressure you.”
He shrugged, lifting his head to look at you. Part of you murmured that after haze of sex was a time when most people had lowered inhibitions. But it wasn’t like you could have just gone back. You had already committed to living with Satoru, even as just a human. The forever promise was a bonus.
“But that's all they can do.” He finished, flopping back onto the bed with an irritated sigh.
“The red tape bastard is going to have a fit and all that’ll be is annoying.”
You lay back down, pulling the blanket over the both of you. There was still no need for sleep in this realm. Even after the slight workout you and Satoru had done. But you felt mentally tired. You knew you would have to face the other gods, the consequences of Satoru’s actions. Warm and snuggled next to the man, your eyes slid shut. Sleep came easy. The prayers of your shrines lulling you into the deep abyss of slumber. You could deal with the outcome later. When you awoke, your first task would be tending the shrines.
#reader insert#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#mahito jjk#gojo satoru#gojo smut#jujustus kaisen au
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"We've Seen The Devil—He Was Hiding In The Mirror."
Part I Part II Part III Part IV
Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland Various x Reader, Self-Aware AU, Yandere TWST
Synopsis: A promise as foolish as it is irrevocable. I hope you're happy with yourself. The real oath is made.
Word count: 3.1k
Includes: Drugging, magical branding, possessiveness, obsession, maggots/spider mention (briefly), murderous implications, manipulation
"You are no savior—nor purpose nor God. You are damnation—a phony and fraud."
--------------
You nearly jump out of your skin as your instincts propel you backwards—right into the arms of the one you should be running from.
"Y-Yuu! What...what's wrong with you?! You scared the life out of me…" Yuu chuckles, breath tickling the skin on your neck. They squeeze you a little tighter in their hold before finally releasing you. You stumble back, holding a hand to your chest as you try to calm your erratic heartbeat.
"Oh! Sorry, did I frighten you?" Are they seriously trying to feign ignorance right now? Your train of thought is interrupted as they bend down, picking up the books you were reading (when did you drop those?) and examining them closely. They make a show out of turning each over, even going so far as to blow non-existent dust off of the covers. "Didn't I say it was rude to go through another person's things? Really, to read a poor maiden's diary while they're away, how shameless…"
"Your 'diary' is very clearly addressed to me," you retort, unfazed by Yuu's theatrics. Their innocent demeanor melts away, an all-too-familiar smirk popping up in its place. "Why shouldn't I read it?"
"Aha, [Name] is so smart! You're right, it is addressed to you, and everything that is mine is yours. Even so, I recommend you don't go poking around in here."
"Well, why not?"
"Because…" Yuu looks away, a very uncharacteristic gesture. They mumble something incomprehensible, then snap their head back to you with a smile. "That's why!"
You stare at them, unimpressed. They stare back at you with such intensity you feel near forced to look away—lest you get swept up in their gaze. You want to ask them to repeat themselves, but you know by now that asking things directly will never yield you answers. You have no choice but to participate in their mind games.
"Well, if you don't want me to read it, perhaps you should have considered hiding it?"
"The Wraith doesn't work like that, I'm afraid." You hold your breath, praying for them to continue. To give you any information onthe innerworkings of the bizarre encampment you’ve found yourself in. Yuu flips through one of the books you had been holding and sighs. "You already know about Wraiths, don't you? Fine, I suppose I can indulge your curiosity, just a little. This Wraith—our Wraith—is intrinsically tied to the both of us. If you look for something here, you'll be sure to find it. Many of the books here store memories, and they can't be taken out. Hence why I can't just hide my diary from you." That's…valuable information. Far more valuable than you had been expecting.
You take a moment to dissect everything that you've just learned. Yuu waits patiently as you comb through the information. Every so often, you catch a glance from them. They never stop smiling, do they?
The place you're in now, the Wraith, is likely to be the second type mentioned in the book you had been reading. It's a place born from death, and it has a connection not just to you, but to Yuu as well. Does that mean that you're dead? What about Yuu? They first came here when they 'shut down', was that death? What about when you took their hand? What was that? Your head was starting to spin.
“Aw, I can see the cogs in your head turning; you must be thinking so hard!” Yuu’s cheerful voice annoys you, but you do your best to ignore them. “Do you want some help, little one? Do you want me to give you the answer?” Hesitantly, you peer back up at them, eyes full of suspicion.
“What’s the catch?” If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Night Raven, it’s that there’s always a catch.
“All I ask for is your attention,” they say. When you don’t respond, they add: “You don’t have to love me—just promise that you won’t leave. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you did.” There’s a hint of desperation in their voice, a panic that threatens to spill out of them growing louder with every second you remain silent. You don’t know what to say. What can you say?
Yuu steps closer to you.
“Promise me, okay? Promise that you won’t leave.” Their smile is gone, replaced with pure pleading as they press their body against yours. Their embrace used to feel like a python squeezing itself around you, like a spider encasing you in its web, but now, it’s different. Now it feels like the hug of a scared child. Their voice and body is shaking. Only a second ago, they were teasing you as if there was no tomorrow, now, they cling on to you as if you are the only thing left. The power between you two has shifted dramatically, causing you to wonder if their previous bravo was nothing more than a facade—a shield to hide their own feelings. You feel a little sorry for them.
“Okay. I won’t.”
“Do you promise?” They pull back to look at you, tears dotting their eyes. Your heart clenches at the sight.
“I promise,” you say. In an instant, their tears are gone, replaced by a victorious smile as they drag you into yet another hug. Your heart drops, were they…tricking you? Were they only pretending to cry, just so you would feel pity and take their side? You are so wrapped up in these thoughts that you barely register the way they squeeze you tighter, tangling you in their arms like the tail of a python, like the web of a spider. You are so wrapped up that you do not even notice the prickling sensation on your wrist, as if you are being burned by something.
“So, what do you want to know?”
“I want to know about you. What…what are you, exactly?” Yuu ponders the question for a minute, then hands you a book, you read the page they’re pointing to.
Homunculus:
(Editor’s note: the following passage has no scientific backing and should be taken with a grain of salt.)
Literally “Little man”. A theoretical alchemical construct made to mimic human life. Technically biological, they are distinct from the Golem, which is made of non-organic material. This is often considered a moot pont, though, because homunculi are nothing more than fables…or so they say. The truth behind homunculi is far darker than what your textbooks would lead you to believe. In reality, homunculi can be created; they are not just theoretical. In fact, there have already been successful trials in their development. But, “why are you speaking of this in a book meant to be about ghosts?”, I hear you say. Well, my dear reader, that all comes down to how they’re made. As you likely know, alchemy is based upon the principal of equivalent exchange. So, how does one create a human body with alchemy, all while following the rule of exchange?
Well, my dear reader, it’s rather simple: you just need a human.
“You’re…a homunculus?”
“No, sorry, wrong page.” They take the book back and flip to (presumably) the correct passage. "I was going to keep this from you, but you're just so cute, I can't help but bare my heart to you~" Yuu hands you the book again, then twirls around behind you, peeking at the page from over your shoulder. A bead of sweat runs down your back as you read the correct passage. You’d read it before, but scary stories are always scarier when the monster is standing behind you.
“Lonesome Ghosts”
“You read this one, right?” You nod, trying not to let your fright show. “Well, this poem is about a face stealer—you already figured that out, though, didn’t you? You also figured out which character is meant to represent me, right?” You can’t see them, but you can feel the grin on their breath.
“I was always…different from the other three. I don’t remember much from back then, but I do remember the weary glances the others would toss me from time to time. We didn’t get along, I think. Even so, I stuck around. Waiting for my purpose,” Yuu pauses, an unchracteristic tint of solemness in their voice. “I tried a bunch of different things, trying to spark a passion, but nothing ever worked. I was getting desperate, and ended up doing something unforgivable. The three cast me out, and I spent decades wandering the world, looking for my purpose. I never found it, so I thought I’d go back to the house, hoping time had taken the edge off our little squabble. That’s when I found them. A human in a coffin, whose lid was about to be blown off. Yuu.”
“It felt like I was seeing color for the very first time. Like I was alive. I had to have them—no, I had to be them. I had to take their skin and wear it as my own. I had to have what they did. And when I did, that was it. My purpose. What I had been waiting for all along. You.”
“My past washed away the second I entered their body. I became a blank slate with no past or history, but even so, I felt complete. The ghosts didn’t even recognize me when I came back, you know? I didn’t recognize them, either, though. I had forgotten everything. Maybe they did, too. But I didn’t forget forever. When I shut down and created the Wraith, my memories started to resurrface. You ruined me, you know? I lost everything when I met you. But, you know that I’m not angry about it, right? After all, the old me was broken. The old me didn’t have you. It was worthless. You gave me worth. It’s because of you that I’m anything at all.”
“You took away my entire being, and replaced it with something better. Just like you did with everyone else.”
Yuu’s words start to blur together as your eyes loose focus. It’s hard to tell what’s going on, and even harder to tell what’s causing it. You think, briefly, that you are having a panic attack, but it is hard to tell. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, and you feel as if the whole world has run out of air. You don’t notice yourself stumbling towards the door, but you do notice the way you trip over yourself. You notice the way you are falling to the ground in slow, agonizing motion. You do not react. You can’t. It is over all too soon.
You think you hear someone screaming, but you pay the voice no mind. You get up, not wasting any time to brush off, and begin to run. You do not quite know why you are running, your body is merely in autopilot, but you run, regardless, and you do not stop until you hit something.
You do not stop until you hit something with a thud!
It is Ace, you realize, mind finally beginning to clear up. You are on the ground outside of Ramshackle, the dirt is cold and wet beneath your bottom, and the air is sharp against your skin. Ace and others stand before you. They seem surprised. You are the same. Why are they here? To torment you? To catch you, once and for all?
They are getting closer, you realize with alarm. Azul is crying, but keeping his distance. Jamil is holding Kalim back from lunging at you. Rook is stalking closer to you. They’re all talking, but it is as if you have gone deaf. You cannot hear them. Your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding out of your chest.
Someone touches you, and the world goes black.
———
You wince at the incoming light as white fluorescents flood your vision. Your head feels as though it has been filled with water, an oddly calm sensation washing over you. You blink up at the white ceiling from your place underneath the white sheets, trying to put the pieces of what brought you here together.
“You’re awake,” Yuu says. Your body burns cold. That’s right, you remember it now. You had fainted earlier. “How are you feeling?”
“Not great,” you answer. There’s no reason to lie.
“We didn’t get to finish our conversation from earlier. Let’s talk, now that you’ve been calmed down.” Something about the way they phrased it sets you on edge, but you have no time to question them, as their voice cuts your thoughts short.
“You know, I was a little hurt when you tried to get rid of me. Sending me to school was just an excuse, wasn’t it?”
“How did you…?”
“I’ve known all along. Remember, darling, no one knows you better than I do.”
“If you knew it was an excuse then why did you go along with it?”
“Because it was a request from you, dearest. How could I ever turn it down when it was you who asked it of me?” Your mind feels cluttered. Have they always been this heavy on the petnames?
"And the reason you came back?"
Yuu smiles. "I just missed you." You aren't sure whether or not you can believe them. Where do the lies start and end? How can you possibly trust them, when their motives are so unclear? As if there is cotton in your ears and eyes, you are disconnected from what is happening around you. You realize that Yuu is talking, but they sound so far away.
You are underwater, you try to listen, but bubbles fill your ears. You swim up to the surface, desperate, splashing and fighting against the tide.
You are on land. You have not left the infirmary, you realize. Yuu is still talking. They sound so far away, but you can hear them just fine.
“My body?” You have no idea what they're talking about. Yuu flashes a grin, seemingly aware of your predicament without you ever having to explain it.
“Do you remember how you died, little one?"
What…?
"How I…died?"
"Yes, you've been dead for quite some time, actually. Dying is an unfortunate but necessary part of transmigration—that is, in relocating your soul."
"Then…my body right now is—"
"Artificial, yes. I had wanted to use one of the particularly irksome students as the equivalent for your body, but the system intervened. I could never get an NPC alone, either—the cast was always too jealou. They’d step in before I could so much as say hello.
All those alchemy classes you had me take really paid off in the end, you know? I had to take the long route, unfortunately. That’s alright, though, because I found a workaround. The solution was right beside me all along.”
"The ghosts," You murmur, trying to will yourself to be horrified. Perhaps you are simply tired, but you are far less unnerved about the situation as you should be.
Almost as if reading your mind, Yuu speaks up, “Sedatives,” they say, “for security.” You wonder what they could possibly mean by ‘security’, but they continue before you get the chance to ask. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. You’re so much more compliant with these.” They stroke your cheek while gazing fondly at you. You feel as if maggots are writhing underneath your skin where they have touched you.
Your hands go numb.
You glance down at them, if only to make sure they’re still attached to your body, when you spot something on your wrist. A glowing symbol—two Triquetras placed together, with a dot in between.
“Ah, are you looking at our mark now, dear one?” Your blood freezes in your veins.
“Our what?” Yuu raises their own arm, revealing the very same symbol on their wrist.
“It’s called a Serch Bythol, and it represents everlasting love.” There’s a giddiness to their voice that sets you on edge.
“When did you…?”
“You promised yourself to me, don’t you remember? We’re practically married now,” Yuu says, kicking their feet with excitement. “The seal is made with alchemy, so you can’t remove it. That shouldn’t be a problem, though, right? After all, you have no reason to break your promise.” A chill runs up your spine. They marked you? You should be scared, but you feel little more than a vague sense of unease. Damn those drugs.
“What…what does the mark do?”
“Are you sure you want to know that, darling? You aren’t looking so well…” Excuses, excuses. Anger bubbles beneath your sedated state; you can’t quite feel it, but you know it’s there. Every word coming from that wretched mouth is just another excuse.
“I’m fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “Tell me what it does—and stop calling me that.” Yuu sighs.
“When we made a pact, our souls bound together.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that we’re now more in-tune with what the other is feeling. We can’t lie to or hurt one another other, either—physically, I mean.If you don’t believe me, then go ahead and try lying. You could attack me, too.”
You try lying, first, but your mouth stays firmly shut. You try again, but nothing happens. You try saying something that is almost true, but exaggerated. Still, no dice. Finally you decide to try saying something that’s true, but misleading, but Yuu starts talking before you can come up with anything.
“I know that you’re angry, but even so, aren’t you glad?”
“Glad? What could I possibly be glad about right now?” You think the sedatives are starting to wear off, as a freshly lit kind of rage sparks itself into your chest.
“Wouldn’t you rather I be honest with you?”
“I’d rather you do that without tricking me into it.” Yuu feigns a sigh.
“It could be worse, you know? This is nothing compared to what the others had planned.” Your first instinct is to assume they’re lying, exaggerating, or otherwise, but your tests from earlier prove your instincts wrong. “Do you want to know what they would have done, had the hunt never occurred?” You nod.
Yuu fills you in on everything. Every plan, every passing musing or idle comment. Everything. The things these people would have done, had the guilt of nearly killing you not gotten in the way…You almost feel grateful for the hunt—no, you do feel grateful. The fates they would have forced upon you, had you not almost died by their hands would have been far worse than death. Demons…They're demons! They cannot possibly be human! But…what does that make you? The ones who demons revere, the one who they worship as if they are God?
There is no longer any hiding from it, you know the answer. An odd sense of peace washes over you at the realization. You stand up, finally ready to confront your wayward worshippers.
You know what you are.
The devil sits upon heaven’s throne, and they are the ones who placed you there.
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#self aware twst#twisted wonderland x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere ace trappola#yandere cater diamond#yandere duece spade#yandere trey clover#yandere leona kingscholar#yandere jack howl#yandere ruggie bucchi#yandere azul ashengrotto#yandere jade leech#yandere floyd leech#yandere kalim al asim#yandere jamil viper#yandere vil schoenheit#yandere epel felmier#yandere rook hunt#yandere idia shroud#yandere malleus draconia#yandere sebek zigvolt#yandere lilia vanrouge#yandere silver
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Incubus!Yandere x GN!Reader
thanks @astoriavincente for responding to my sleep post. This is something that I thought of, so I hope you like it~
TW: mentions death, descriptions of violence, non-con touching, implied non-con,
—
“You look terrible.”
Rolling your eyes, you said, “Thanks. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear today.” You couldn’t really get upset because you knew what your friend was talking about. You had horrible bags underneath your eyes.
“You really need to get more sleep.”
Smiling, you shook your head. “I know.”
It wasn’t that you couldn’t sleep. It was that you didn’t want to. Whenever you closed your eyes at night, gruesome images haunted you. Whether it was “waking up” to find that you were actively being enclosed in an iron maiden that put holes in horrible places or seeing those you cared for being tied off to mysterious creatures before they were torn limb from limb. You didn’t think you could find the sound of a dislocating shoulder that disturbing, but maybe it only lingered because you could still feel the way their screams scratched against your skull.
You died.
You close your eyes and you’ve died a million times, but your options to stay awake were running out. You’d become an avid coffee drinker. You couldn’t stand the taste at first and you were a little hesitant to down energy drinks at the rate you learned to accept coffee.
Your were jittery, unable to stop your hands from shaking, but it didn’t really interfere with your daily life. At least not too much. You were constantly on edge, jumpy, paranoid at times if you ever found yourself drifting off to experience a quick death before coming back, in shock and uneasy. The color red would trigger violent reactions. Flinching so hard there would be pain in your neck for hours after or bringing flashbacks of broken bodies. Mostly yours.
You were past the point of being afraid of falling asleep, but your options to stay awake were running out.
The coffee wasn’t working anymore. You didn’t know if it was possible to build up a tolerance but after weeks of four to eight cups of coffee a day, your body was screaming at you that it wanted a break. Your eyelids felt heavy, brain pulsing like a heartbeat too fast to be healthy. You needed rest, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t unsee those horrifying images, haunting you vividly even while you were awake. If your fear was this strong while you were awake, you didn’t want the immersed experience.
The coffee wasn’t working anymore. On your way to work, you were dazed, distracted. It felt as if you were walking on a cloud made of iron and you couldn’t say what you were looking at. Everything and nothing as you stepped out into the street with car lights beaming dangerously close. Horns blared, people shouted but your attention was elsewhere. You were only jerked back when a hand closed around your collar and the crook of your arm to yank you to safety. You felt pain in your shoulder. Looking into your friend’s terrified face and at the street behind you, it didn’t take long to realize what had happened. You narrowly missed experiencing death, but it would’ve been the only one you didn’t come back from.
You were being sent home for the day, your friend reporting what happened after taking you to the hospital. You couldn’t be mad at them for stopping you from coming into work. Or for your sprained shoulder. They were worried. You hadn’t been acting like yourself for days. You were quiet, despondent, it took touching you to get your attention, and the incident that happened this morning was just the cherry on top. You needed rest.
You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror and your appearance was ghastly. Your eyes were red and beginning to sink in, the bags deep around your eyes. If your friend thought you looked bad before, he probably thought you were close to knocking on death’s door when he saw you today.
You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face before entering your bedroom. You stared at your bed, something that should’ve brought you comfort but you only felt that it would quickly lull you into a false sense of security.
Tears came to your eyes, but you wiped them away. It would only exhaust you more to be emotional.
Sitting on the bed, you stiffly laid on your back. Looking at your ceiling, you felt a sense of unease wrap around your spine, urging you to sit up, to do something, anything so you wouldn’t fall asleep.
You don’t remember when your ceiling transformed into a pitch black darkness.
Looking around, you assumed that you had fallen asleep, not surprised at all that it happened so quickly. Nothing was rushing at you with a weapon. You weren’t tied down or hung upside down or enclosed in anything. You felt yourself take a relieved breath, stuttering slightly when flickering lights began to bounce against the pitch black surface.
You didn’t understand what was happening, but they seemed to shine brighter when you took a step in their direction. A part of you wondered whether it was a good idea to follow these mysterious lights, but you felt anything was better than the chance of being attacked if you didn’t follow them.
They led you through the darkness for a while, pulsing with a life that was mesmerizing. You didn’t even realize when you passed under an archway, crossing over a barrier that your senses would have normally warned you to avoid.
But you could trust the lights. They led with a certain undeniable confidence, promising protection for as long as you trusted their guide.
“Hello?”
You looked up, noticing someone you had never seen before. They seemed to be floating in midair, slowly lowering themselves to look at you. There seemed to be something pink emanating from the strange figure, a sweet smell wafting across your nose.
“I didn’t think it’d be this easy, but I guess humans don’t have the mental fortitude to put up with continuous torture.”
You were confused. Why was he referring to you as a human as if he wasn’t one? It was only then that you noticed the large spade tail swinging lethargically behind him.
What as he? It was the first time anyone spoke in your dreams. The mysterious figures were either too busy killing you or chasing you through endless damnation to have a conversation. But he had called out to you. Did that mean you could respond back?
“Who are you?”
His eyes stopped looking you over, meeting yours before he gave a wide grin.
“I suppose introductions are in order.” With a snap of his fingers a bed appeared to which he as instantly lounging on.
“But you wouldn’t believe the amount of power I’ve drained to get you here. We can save it after a bit of fun.”
His tone turned seductive and you knew you did not like where this was going. Turning around, you attempted to go back the way you came, but your body ran into an invisible wall.
“You can’t leave.” he said, sounding exasperated that he had to explain this to you. “You’ve already entered the barrier and you can’t leave without my permission.”
With a finger crooked in your direction, you flew through the air landing with a surprising amount of force on the plush bed.
“Now,” he said, a thumb caressing your cheek. “Would you prefer lace or leather?”
You wanted to scream when your clothes transformed between scandalous versions of your two options, but you felt heady with fatigue. What was happening?
Your vision was hazy, your limbs not listening to you as you looked at the mysterious figure.
“Oh, you poor, poor thing.” he said, climbing on top of you, horns emerging from his skull as his body shifted into something large, something horrifyingly beautiful. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to take good care of you.”
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Dire Crowley: The Serpent and the “gift” of the Forbidden Fruit
I’ve been seeing a lot of interesting comparisons about Crowley’s repeated mention of apple trees in his new vignette to the “forbidden fruit” from Biblical lore. I had a bit of a lightbulb moment the more I thought about it! Σ੧(❛□❛✿) My take on the idea is certainly far from perfect haha, there’s a lot of gaps in the technicalities of it all, but I do think there is a connection between Crowley, the serpent, and the Forbidden Fruit 👀
Apples have been a repeated (although subtle) motif of Crowley’s for quite some time. The courtyard at NRC is riddled with apple trees, his vacation shirt depicts them as well, and it’s been heavily implied long before his vignette that he is the one who takes care of these trees. Additionally, the ever-so ominous opening animation depicts quick flashes of a bitten apple on the ground, much like the scene in Snow White when she takes a bite of the Poisoned Apple and falls into a death-like sleep.
In Crowley’s new vignette, it first begins with him making a whole speech about how the apple trees in the courtyard thrive no matter the hardships and seasons, and how they’ve grown before he knew it- much like his students! The students are oblivious to what he actually means by this, repeatedly mocking him and messing up what fruit he’s talking about because they didn’t pay attention to his speech. But later, the vignette ends with the ominous Dire Crowley theme playing (same one as in the opening prologue), as he says “because you are all…my precious, precious apple trees.” His story begins and ends with apples! 🍎
The opening animation depicting the apple feels very symbolic- I don’t think it’s a representation of Book 5, aka the Pomefiore book at all! Neige and the themes of an apple’s temptation played a surprisingly meager role in that book, and he was given apple juice instead of an actual apple. And in the opening animation, there’s shots of a book, spilled ink, the bitten apple, the spindle, and Crowley sitting in Pomefiore’s (a replica of the Evil Queen’s) throne.
For a long time now, we have believed Crowley sitting in this throne meant his ties to the Evil Queen, like him being twisted from her crow. Which I am not discounting that idea by the way! 👀 But what if…this scene is meant to hint that Crowley is taking on the symbolic ROLE of the Evil Queen herself- and also the serpent from the Bible? The novel gives more details of his whip weaving and constricting like a snake, as if it were alive…
Because when thinking about the story of Snow White- she is an innocent maiden who is tempted by a fruit that is dyed with beauty and promise of good, while underneath it lies a creation that will harm her IF she eats it. Despite the dwarves warning Snow White to never take anything from strangers, the Evil Queen disguised in her crone form tempts her with the apple, and her biting the apple puts her in a death-like sleep. Isn’t this just a loose retelling/allusion to what happened with Eve and the serpent, and how the serpent reassured her the Forbidden Fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil wouldn’t harm her, despite God strictly forbidding her and Adam from eating it?
Side note, I’d like to mention how Crowley keeps saying how “kind,” how “magnanimous,” how “generous” he is. And in Twisted Wonderland, the Evil Queen is now called the FAIREST Queen
Apples symbolize knowledge, fertility, love, wisdom, and immortality (soon I will specifically talk about the apple symbolism in general for Crowley)! Serpents/snakes symbolize can symbolize evil, mischief, trickery, but there’s also a lot of potential positive associations in them as well. They can symbolize rebirth, wisdom, and fertility. This is post that goes more into a bit more detail about the snake imagery at NRC but the edges of the Dark Mirror and NRC logo depict the caudeceus- two serpents together that also represent negotiation/diplomacy and eloquence.
And going back to the novel description of Crowley’s binding Whip of Love, Lian mentioned that Crowley’s Whip of Love literally binds the students together in his vignette much like these threads do on the spinning wheel with the Diasomnia characters in the Book 7 trailer animation🤔 And I feel like when looking at all these images of the spinning wheel together, there is threads and thorns “weaving” and “binding,” much like Crowley’s whip of love. And in the novel, Grim also mistakes Crowley’s whip for a “string” 👀
So after ALL of this ANDJSJJD, the long story short is that I believe Crowley is the serpent, which the Evil Queen also plays a similar role of. I made a much more detailed analysis here going through every Book, but I feel like Crowley is secretly guiding the Overblots to happen. There is always a weakness each Overblotter has that Crowley manages to exploit. Even though I think Crowley’s potential end-game plans are meant for the good of everyone, there’s a lot of bad things and suffering that must be caused for even the possibility of a happy ending. In the Bible, the Serpent was said to be the most “subtle”, aka the most cunning of God’s creations, convinced Eve that the Forbidden Fruit would not kill her and Adam if they ate the fruit unlike what God claimed, and said that Eve would have the knowledge of everything.
And going back to the vignette, Crowley seems to almost lament how naive and sometimes foolish his students can be. They certainly have much to learn under him. They completely missed and disregarded his speech about the apple trees and their growth, and then the NPC students and Grim call him weak and try to taunt him- but then he comments on how they know so very little before whipping them into shape 🤣
Additionally, in that same vignette, he says that hard work and experience is what makes life so much sweeter instead of doing what just comes easy to you- apparently he even pops into Special Lessons all the time to purposefully frighten the students and get them to work harder! 🤣 And another a new voiceline also reveals he does not intervene with the student’s shenanigans because he wants them to grow as individuals and have their own autonomy. It’s as if Crowley desires his students to have freedom in every sense of the word- but not to have everything just given to them on a silver platter.
And if Crowley is indeed involved with causing the Overblots as I think he is, then it even furthers this idea. The students never actually died despite their magestone being tainted and Overblotting. They were certainly forced to realize the deeper pains and issues inside them, but they didn’t die. What Crowley is doing is not because he wants to hurt them, but for the growth they experience afterwards! Directly confronting these horrible things is what triggered a change in many, and we even get to see the core reasons at how they led to their Overblots.
What the Serpent essentially did was the same- it technically never lied, much like how Crowley is always telling half-truths. Adam and Eve discovered shame and fear, but they technically gained a lot more freedom and knowledge of everything, both good and evil, once cast out of Eden for how they disobeyed God.
What’s interesting to me is that this philosophy Crowley has directly contradicts Malleus’ philosophy when he Overblots in Book 7. Malleus practically quotes Revelation 21:4 of the Bible, saying he will create a world without pain, sorrow, and loss. Practically orchestrating everyone’s individual “Garden of Eden” in their dreams. And as we see in the peeks of Idia’s and Sebek’s dream, everything is so ideal that everything changes. As we see in Idia’s dream specifically, we presume that the “original” Ortho is alive and well, and has grown up and is attending RSA.
AND this is where Lilia becomes so fascinating in this book. Lilia’s dream is full of hardships- his life as a General, the hardships of war, the loss of Levan and Meleanor, the cruelty he received outside Briar Valley. But ALL of this was a necessary part of Lilia’s journey in adopting and raising Malleus. It was a harsh journey, but his life became so much sweeter by the end of it, where he even bursts into tears from how happy he is to have hatched Malleus. Earlier in the dream, we see him complain how he’d probably be responsible for babysitting Levan and Meleanor’s kid- but now he’s begging Malleus to hatch, saying he’ll do anything as long as Malleus can live, even sacrifice his own magic and lifespan to do so. (Credit to Otome Ayui on YouTube for the translations!)
I think it’s interesting how the events of Lilia’s dream is essentially Crowley’s philosophy. That pain and hard work is necessary to achieve one’s true potential- an idea that Malleus is not emotionally ready to comprehend yet. I wonder if Crowley will play a role in Book 7 to lure everyone out from their “Gardens of Eden” that Malleus has created? 🤔 Because now that I’m thinking about it more, the whole Garden of Eden think represents the loss of innocence and bliss in exchange for the knowledge of death and hardship- Twisted Wonderland starts with us essentially having schoolboy squabbles, and now in Book 7 we have witnessed literal war and the death of loved ones! Is it because we as the player took Crowley’s hand (or someone’s) in the opening on the game, slowly leading us down this story? 🤔
Birds are not the sort to coddle their young forever. Eventually, the fledgling gets pushed out the nest by their own parent to learn how to fly- this is Crowley’s “tough love” and the results of his forbidden fruits. Even if the fall is frightening, seemingly cruel and potentially deadly, fledglings learn how to use their own wings regardless! Crowley is giving that push to help his students fly, even if they can’t ever understand his admittedly tough yet well-meaning motives.
But if Crowley is the serpent AND the nurturer of the Forbidden Fruit, who IS the Eve, and who/what is the Forbidden Apple? 🤔 After all, the role of the serpent relates to temptation- there must be someone he has to tempt in the first place.
This is where I get stuck, in all honesty! 🤣 There is so much about Crowley that we don’t know about yet, that his odd connections to apple trees are unknown. The apple symbolism aspects are quite interesting, especially for the Levan theory, so I will hopefully cover that tomorrow 🤔 But the literal concept of what the “forbidden fruit” could be is unknown to me.
…But I would like to add that the likely reason why the Forbidden Fruit became commonly known as an apple (the original text makes no mention of an apple at all) is because of either a misunderstanding or a pun of the Latin text. “Mâlum” is the Latin noun for Apple, and “Mālum” is the Latin noun which means Evil- and is derived from the adjective “malus.”
Evil…Meleanor…Maleficent…Maleficia…Mālum…Malus…MALLEUS???
…Isn’t it interesting that in the first part of his vignette, Crowley speaks of how an adolescent apple tree suddenly grew without him realizing despite its hardships…a speech where Malleus conveniently wasn’t invited to and never got to hear how proud Crowley was for his apple tree? And in Glorious Masquerade, Crowley speaks of being the one to “nurture” Malleus into the great and powerful mage he is today. Just like the apple trees Crowley frets over so much? 🤔🍎 I suppose in “original sin” terms of the forbidden fruit, Meleanor did “bless” Malleus to be a malevolent star to humankind???
And…another new voiceline has Crowley being concerned that Yuu seems to know no fear when they ask him about the extent of his powers. Yuu being seen as an almost naive figure that Crowley is worried about…Malleus and mâlum…I’m not sure anymore 😭🤣 Because it can go both ways as well!
I feel like I went all over the place with this theory! 😭 My brain is still trying to process everything that happened with Crowley today…I hope the general idea of what I’m trying to say made sense though! 😭 Everything I said is just a loose interpretation ^_^ I’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts, as I felt like I kept confusing myself trying to figure this out 🤣🤣 I @moonlightequin1 made notes on a super interesting theory of Grim and Yuu being the Forbidden Fruit!! It makes me think of the headcanon/theory that if Crowley was Levan, he “gifted” Yuu to Malleus. Like a forbidden fruit of knowledge for Malleus?
#twisted wonderland#twst#dire crowley#twst theory#twst dire crowley#twst Crowley#twst spoilers#twst jp spoilers#twst malleus draconia#kallistopost#twst Lilia
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Okay, HTTYD fandom I’m coming for you.
I want an au where the gang were always friends. Like, they grew up to be just as tight-nit as they are in RTTE, but because of reasons they hide the fact that they’re friends with Hiccup from the adults. Why do I think this could work?
Well:
Hiccup by nature is very forgiving, so when all his friends come to him and say they can’t be friends in public because of one reason or another, he sympathizes, as long as they’re still friends, he doesn’t really care.
Snotlout is the first in the group to start drifting away, and they all ask him why
Spitelout doesn’t like that his son is hanging around Hiccup when he’s so unviking-like
He pressures Snotlout to cut ties with his cousin and to start putting him down for not living up to “what he should”
This backfires
Baby-lout hasn’t yet had the time to really internalize his father’s teachings, so when his friends ask, he tearfully tells them
Most of the group is furious, but Hiccup understands
If it had just been up to him the group probably would’ve disbanded then and there
Lucky for him it wasn’t
They figure that if Spitelout doesn’t want them to friends then they won’t… in public
In private is a different story
In public they treat it like a game, to taunt each other and be as sarcastic as possible
But when they’re alone they let their guard down
The next one to go, surprisingly, is Astrid
After her uncle died her family’s reputation takes a dive
At first, the fact that she’s friends with the chief’s son is a good thing, but as time goes on and he doesn’t grow, her parents start getting pressure, and Astrid, not being as young anymore, feels it, too
Astrid’s extremely conflicted, because on the one hand she doesn’t want to abandon Hiccup, let alone insult him in front of the village like Snotlout
But on the other, she needs to restore her family’s honor
So they come up with Astrid’s cover: in public she’ll distance herself from all of them, working hard to be a shield-maiden, only being a part of the group in an orbit-sort of way
She grows into ignoring Hiccup in public because if she doesn’t she’s going to take the head off the next person who insults him
For Fishlegs and the Twins, there’s no specific moment that they start to distance themselves in public
Overtime, the twins become more destructive and so does Hiccup, so being seen together is a no-go
Fishlegs is growing evermore into the scholar and is completely uninterested in fighting, to the point where, if it wasn’t for his stature, he’d be in the same boat as Hiccup (if less magnified, because he’s not the Chief’s son)
So they all “grow apart” into the roles we see in the first movie, with some noticeable differences
They sit together in the great hall, but to anyone casually observing Hiccup’s excluded from the conversation
In actuality, Hiccup and Fishlegs came up with their own little version of sign language which Astrid forced everyone to learn, though some are more fluent than others (Tuffnut is surprising good at it, but Snotlout’s lucky to understand a full sentence)
Astrid still trains extra in the forest, but usually you can find the rest of the group somewhere nearby doing their own thing, if they’re not needed elsewhere
Similarly, because they hang out around her while she trains, she manages to bully at least Hiccup and Fishlegs into being at least passable with one weapon (sword and hammer)
Snotlout still flirts with Astrid, but it’s far more joking and well timed than in canon (of course he still has a crush on her, she’s Astrid, but he also flirts with her to escape that weird fluttery feeling he gets when Fishlegs gets excited about the book he’s reading)
The twins outward behavior doesn’t change as much as their friends’ perception of them
The group is very aware that the twins are far smarter and more capable than they let on, and are aware that a lot of their chaos is carefully planned and not just violent stupidity like the rest of the village might assume
The gang even joins in a lot, the twins made them far more mischievous than they let anyone know
Due to the closeness to Astrid, Ruffnut is far more willing to be serious about training and other things, even if she still tries to downplay it
In reverse, Astrid is far more willing to chill the fuck out and have some fun, let her creativity take the lead, even if she’s very strict about keeping a mask in public
This is getting really long and repetitive so I’m just going to leave a few more thoughts
Fishlegs is far more confident and courageous because of his friends, but he’s still skittish in public
Hiccup is far less he’ll-bent on proving himself, but he’s still a sarcastic insane inventor so the results are pretty much the same he’s just happier (less lonely and lacking self-esteem)
Snotlout and Astrid are more comfortable with their emotions
Snotlout has less self-image problems (still-there though, fuck Spitelout)
When Hiccup says he shot down a Night Fury, they can tell he’s telling the truth, but they don’t have time to search with him that day, so he still meets Toothless the same
They plan to work together come dragon training, but Toothless kinda throws a wrench in that plan
Hiccup tries to keep him secret, but they know him, so when the Zippleback thing happens, he stands no chance
I have a lot more ideas but this so long
Just. Let them be friends damn it
#httyd#httyd 1#httyd race to the edge#httyd fanfiction#how to train your dragon#hiccup haddock#hiccup how to train your dragon#hiccup httyd#hiccup horrendous haddock lll#astrid#astrid hofferson#astrid httyd#snotlout#snotlout httyd#snotlout jorgenson#fishlegs#fishlegs ingerman#Fishlegs httyd#httyd fishlegs#httyd astrid#httyd snotlout#ruffnut#ruffnut thorston#httyd ruffnut#httyd rtte#httyd tuffnut#tuffnut#tuffnut thorston#toothless#httyd toothless
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𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑛. ༊ ๋ 𝆹 ׅ
Slasher headcanons with Nymph!fem!reader.
the pictures above is yet again from @fairydxlll on pinterest<3
ᖭི Character's that will be include : Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Brahms Heelshire, & Jennifer Check
ᖭི what is a nymph?
A nymph, sometimes spelled nymphe, in ancient Greek folklore is a minor female nature deity. Different from other Greek goddesses, nymphs are generally regarded as personifications of nature, are typically tied to a specific place or landform, and are usually depicted as maidens.
ᖭི Quick Explanation : you were a no human maiden that live in the forest. one time you try peeking out of your true world trying to see whats outside of it without you noticing that You've just caught the attention and curiousty of someone you shouldn't have.
ᖭི Warnings : Bo sinclair being The Bo sinclair he is. a little bit of Necrophilia [ he's fucking crazy ] reader's death in bo part. reader is naked around the woods. reader skin color is not specific. Manipulating, innocent kink (maybe?) stalking & kidnapping in brahms part. this is kinda dark. read at your own risk :) i've warned you.
ᖭི Bo Motherfucking Sinclair. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ
• first met when he was out in the town, now dont get me wrong, he actually love his town but he was just tryna break himself from his work by taking a walk in some forest outside of his town.
• after taking a walk he heard some other stepfoot coming around him from the cracks of the leaves it made. he then become wary and look around only to find the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid his eyes on. he sees you.
• you were um.. naked. but you still look pretty as fuck and it makes him overwhelmed. but his wariness is not out gone yet, so he trying to aproach you little by little step, he sees your legs were injured and he insisted to take you to the town, and yes you're accepting.
• at first, after he healed your leg injury, just like the Bo Sinclair he is, he's thinking about killing you, and after he kills you he wants to play with your body a little bit, but the second he sees you he cant help but having a symphaty once his harsh eyes meet your innocent once.
• he's trying to communicate with you, talking about you of whats happening in this town. at first he's kinda hesistant to tell you to what he have been done in this town and that he had a very very big sins and debt to pay, but after a while he manage to talk honest to you.
• and the last choice is yours, you accept him for everything he did and he let you live here. although he probably gonna use your beautiful face and he can and he WILL for sure manipulate your innocent nature to get you to do what he want you to do. but if you refuse? i suppose you're not gonna be anything but a pretty corpse.
ᖭི Vincent Vanilla Sinclair. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ
• the first time he had laid his eye on you he thinks you're one piece of an Art, A truly beautiful, masterpiece Art, and also the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.
• the first time he sees you he have a feelings that you were no human because of how much beauty you had within you.
• he's flustered by your appereance, he want to talk to you but he's worry that you'll be scared by his wrecked face :(
• and yet he still tried anyway, although he kinda tell himself that she wouldnt accept him because of what he is.
• and instead, you accept him! oh he felt like that was the moment where he could feel the happiest in him. he would literally spoil you so much with jewelry, beautiful clothes, and anything that you may like from the victims, he even made a wax sculpture dedicated to you. not to mention the paper where he had been drawing you for thousands countless time.
• and different from Bo, He would NEVER use or manipulate your innocent nature. instead he want to keep it safe from every humiliating and manipulating things that exist in this world, such as his own brothers.
ᖭི Brahms Crusty Heelshire. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ
• Heelshire mansion is located literally in the middle of the forest so it probably wouldnt be that hard to find creatures like you.
• when he was on the wall he sometimes trying to get out once the mansion is quiet and silence and him was the only person left there. he trying to see from the window in the mansion to see whats going on there and here.
• When he's peeking he sees you wandering around the forest not far enough from the mansion. you're still visible so he can still see you through.
• his curious is sparkling, he wants to know who you are but he also scared to come out of the mansion (this boy..) he tried very slowly like at first he would be more likely to just watch more often in the window, trying to search your appereance, and he also start to realize that you were no human. and yet its making the curious in him more sparkling and sparkling. until he realize that you actually wandering towards the heelshire mansion! so he waits and waits until you're close enough to get catch on.
• after he catch you, he would explain by the letters that is written next to brahms doll of who he is and why you're here and what this place are and what you have to do for him to be able to live here and bla bla bla.. some sort things like that. he really want to come out of the wall and talk to you but he's just soooooo.. unsure if he would do it or not. like Vincent he's worry that he would scare you.
• so he would just see you from the back of the wall, waiting and waiting time and trust and loyalty from you to get him sure enough that he would introduce himself face to face with you.
• its just a matter of time of when this Mr.heelshire decided to couragely enough to introduce himself right in front of you. and he hope you would want to wait patiently for that moment also.
ᖭི Jennifer Badbitch Check. ๋ 𝆹 ׅ
• this woman smh.. first meeting after she just ate one of her victims in the middle of the woods, and then she found you naked wandering around the woods.
• at first she doesnt really care and she actually dont know how to react. she was kinda flustered but also confused by your nude appereance
• but after she sees you enough and she realize you're still not recognize her appereance she start shouting "Hello!" while walking towards you.
• and of course it'll flinch you. you look around and see her walking towards you. her sudden appereance will make you scared and not to mention the blood that was covering her clothes and body and mostly the part of her mouth that was covered enough blood to drip.
• she then would ask you question like "who are you?" "what are you doing?" "whats your name?" "where do you live?" and "what kind of manic girl would wondering alone in the woods with nude body besides me?" and something like that.
• at the end she would ask you if you want to come to take a bath with her in some lake around the woods. and the answer is up to you.
• if you accept, she would be so happy, and after she finds out that you're not a human either she would be more confident enough to tell you what kind of creature she is. but if you refuse? she most likely let you go, but only for a while, because the curiousty in her is sparkling enough to make her go to the woods and search for you. and i'm telling you, this woman is a determined one.
#slasher fucker#monster fucker#monster smut#slasher x reader#slasher smut#slashers#slasher headcanons#slasher fanfiction#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair smut#bo sinclair x reader#jennifer check#jennifers body#brahms heelshire#brahms smut#brahms heelshire smut#brahms heelshire x reader#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair#jennifer check x reader#jennifers body smut#slasher fluff
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Can I please have the Whitebeard pirates with an Mitsuri Kanroji reader? I feeling like everyone would tease Ace for having a crush on her
-You were one of the very few women that Whitebeard allowed in his crew, only because he knew that you could handle yourself. You were a delicate maiden, personality wise at least, being a total girly-girl, but you were a very strong and intimidating warrior, especially with your unnatural strength and that weird ribbon sword of yours.
-When they plucked you out of the sea, after you dropped there due to a blood demon art going wrong, they had no idea who you are or what you were wearing, your strange uniform with your long socks and the sword at your side.
-You looked injured, but when they got to dealing with your wounds, Marco and the nurses were stunned, seeing the condition of your body, as the wounds you had would have been fatal if they had been on anyone else.
-Whitebeard welcomed you to the crew, once you woke up and you had smiled so brightly, happy tears in your eyes that you had a place to call home in his new world, you bowed so deeply thanking him.
-You learned of this new world and the strange abilities some had, called Devil Fruit abilities, but you fit in nicely, as everyone else had oddball skills as well. You found kinship with them, as none of them thought your unnatural strength was monstrous at all- many claimed that you were a catch for anyone, which of course embarrassed you to no end.
-The crew was quite protective of you, as they could see that you were a bit of an airhead, but also a lover- you loved to make eyes at anyone who was strong and goodlooking, which had led to a few incidents of others, outside the crew, who tried to take advantage of you.
-However, you had a hidden savior that your crew, many whom had adopted you, telling you that they were going to be your big brothers now- to protect you, but there was one who actually had feelings for you.
-Funny thing was, he would always get tongue tied around you, turning bright red, and could barely be around you without tripping over thin air!
-Ace was a total sweetie, but the crew was merciless about his crush on you- many claimed it was painful to see him stuttering or fumbling around you.
-You weren’t the brightest either, you liked Ace- finding him strong and handsome, as well as a good person, as you’ve seen him defending others, but you were always confused about why he was the way he was while around you.
-The whole crew could do nothing but face-palm around the two of you, you were both hopeless!
-That day changed when you were going around with Ace, getting supplies at port, when a man grabbed your wrist, “Hey pretty lady- how about we go and have some fun!”
-You easily pulled your hand back, throwing him over your shoulder, before you both realized he was part of another, no-name crew, who were now pissed that you fought back.
-They started making comments on how strong you were, not recognizing you or Ace, claiming that you were like a gorilla and freakishly strong, and how they should go and find a real woman to get with.
-Ace handed you the bags of groceries he had been carrying, not realizing that you had teared up, hearing the words you had heard back in your old world while Ace took care of business easily.
-When Ace came back to you, he froze, seeing you in tears and he panicked, not knowing what to do before he hugged you close, making you gasp, your eyes going wide, “You’re not a gorilla- you’re just Y/N- and you’re a real woman- you’re beautiful and- and…”
-Izo and Marco found the two of you moments later, both of you bright red, covering your faces with your hands which made them exasperated before you all headed back to the ship.
-Later that evening, you sought Ace out, who froze, seeing you there and you smiled down at him, looking a bit nervous, “Did you really mean it- am I really beautiful?” He was stunned by your question, as if you didn’t know exactly how beautiful you were, before realizing that you had some self-esteem issues.
-Ace stood and hugged you again, surprising you, but he froze, realizing what he had done before he nodded his head softly in your shoulder.
-You both didn’t move for what felt like a long while before Marco groaned, “Just kiss her already!!” you both pulled apart, shocked as you both saw everyone staring at the two of you which made you turn bright red again, embarrassed as Ace charged for them, yelling at them as they all laughed- finding the situation hilarious!
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I MADE SHINGYOKU FUMO!! (Again)
Im turning all my visual depictions of them into fumos, I just finished a pair :))) they are multiplying
They are spreading they are unstoppable 👁👄👁
This is once again made from scratch using my own made patterns. It does get a bit funky when I make the clothing. Its a lot of attempts so it takes me a lot of time to make one fumo (I want each to be as clean as possible).
This pair is special to me because its my favorite of all takes I have :)))
For redhead: I may have changed the silhouette of the sprite a lot while keeping the same base elements (long red hair, white top + red bottom w/white details on it, blue cloak tied w/some red bow). I wanted to go a more established shrine maiden look (the sprite imo is more some sort of magician), but turn it a mix of tomboyish/practical/cute in an effort to express personality traits with just a fumo design :) usually I give this one redhead Gyoku a yumi bow but didnt figure out how to make it yet (lets say she will beats up youkais w/her bare hands which is still in my own fanon-character)
For brunette: ITS. A. MAN. Oh my gods could people please stop say she. I thought it was a popular enough fanon to call that one a man. Is it because of the long hair. But ill never give him short hair. Anyway hes my top top absolute fav of all my 12 designs :) I finally have a marketable plushie of him...... i can feel his sacredeness from afar.... Mr priest Shingy who blesses cars..... and he is holding his little ofuda wand..... I dont have much more to say about designs, I just tried to translate it dramatic on the fumo scale.
Also.... Link to the other pair visible on some of the pics :)
#shingyoku#touhou pc98#touhou hrtp#touhou#touhou project#fumo plush#fumofumo#touhou fumo#doujin merch#my art
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