#The Mountain King Ritual

[nastyadreamstar]

I'm back guys! Finally, I have more free time...

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

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

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

Or

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

pairing: satoru gojo x fem!reader

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

wc: 14k

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

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

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

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

“Nope!” You were adamant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His hair is a startling white and -

His eyes are blindfolded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sigh. “No it’s fine.”

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

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

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

“Wait, why?” 

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

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

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

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

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

You just met the Lord of the underworld.

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

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

Lord Gojo. 

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

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

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

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

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

You almost choke on your own confused inhale.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please?” He pleads. 

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

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

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

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

He laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Petals.

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

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

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

“You mean…no one’s told you?” 

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

“Told me what?” You frown.

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

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

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

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

“I apologize-”

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

You exhale shakily. 

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

Your heart sinks fast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You instead sigh and return to braiding.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you finish my flower crown, petals?” 

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

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

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

“What are you doing here?” You whisper. 

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

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

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

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

Blinking away tears, you stare at the king.

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

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

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

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

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

“You can come back with me.”

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

Gojo decides to clarify himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The underworld is a crystal dream.

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

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

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

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

It was warm and heartfelt. However…

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

Never go to Tartarus.

And never eat anything from this world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s why you spend so much time here. 

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

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

“You look lost in thought.”

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

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

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

You never expected him to be this comforting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What exactly have you heard about me?”

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

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

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

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

Gojo’s face blooms with a toothy smile.

“It’s…not technically a helmet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Infinity.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were you going to watch Gojo from the shadows?

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

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

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

He looks lonely.

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

Then a giggle comes. 

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

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

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

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

Then Gojo whips around to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, it slowly dawns on you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I show you something?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Utahime said nothing could grow here.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait.” 

He freezes and glances over his shoulder. 

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

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

“Do what?” 

You sigh exhausted at his innocently coy reply.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve never seen this flower before.

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

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

Horror strikes you fast. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are horrified but Gojo just continues to laugh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There, the god of the underworld leans over you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly an image flashes wild and frantic in your mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you ask about his trip with the same curiosity.

“Leaving? What for?” 

A pause comes. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo hums a curious thing.

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

“Familiar how?” You hesitantly ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is the last place that you have yet explored.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You dare not step any closer. 

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

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

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

A cursed soul.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then a blinding heat sears under your palms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your reason now sounds so childish. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ijichi!” Gojo cries bright and happily.

Your eyes go wide.

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

Ijichi cries your name and something inside you falls. 

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

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

You know why the messenger is here. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All because of your actions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow hard and compose yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He does not want you to go.

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

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

You swallow hard and shake your head.

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

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

Your heart stops.

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

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

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

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

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

Before you can even reply Gojo leans forward.

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

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

Then he disappears. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The sky above is a clouded muted gray. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Selfish. Were you being selfish? 

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

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

His voice becomes a soothing balm to your frustration. 

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

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

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

You exhale, relieved. 

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

She pulls away and your face falls in horror. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru.” 

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

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

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

Under your touch infinity disappears. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Satoru is now on his knees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That is true. 

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

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

“Marry me.”

Your knees almost give out. 

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

“Are you serious!?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can’t be serious, Satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mothers voice cracks the air with destructive anger 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Powers?

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

“I did that?” You ask stunned.

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

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

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

Destined to be here.  

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

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

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

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

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

Gakuganji hums a moment to consider.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru please.” You sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you’re my other half.”

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

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

At Olympus, that seems like centuries ago now. 

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

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

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

His hands now have moved to encompass yours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So you really want to marry me?”

Satoru rolls his eyes at your question. 

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

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

The god of the underworld suddenly breathes out your name.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who cares.” You scoff.

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

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

“What a cute new queen you are.” 

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

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

“As long as you match with me.”

He laughs so freely and it’s beautiful. 

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

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

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

But of course you embrace and kiss your king softly.

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

“No promises.” He smiles. 

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

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

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

It grants you tremendous strength to start your journey. 

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

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

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

His words give you the push to reach the surface.

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

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

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

You’ve always loved the sky. 

Except now your breath hitches at the sight. 

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

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

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

[millenianthemums]

I wanted to share the official playlist I made for this fic! I always make playlists for stories of mine, but I honestly really like this one and wanted to share it. I went way overboard on the cover, but it was still fun. I’ll probably reuse it when I post the first chapter of the fic, which I’m hoping will happen in the next couple weeks!

tracklist under the cut! the songs don’t map directly onto the plot or anything, they’re just vibe-based. there’s a lot of cheesy pop and angsty stuff right next to each other, because i feel like that’s gonna be the tone of the fic in general.

* Ruler of Everything - Tally Hall

* The Saga of You, Confused Destroyer of Planets - Lemon Demon

* Kiss Me, Son of God - They Might Be Giants

* Beady Eyes on the Horizon - Jukebox the Ghost

* The Next Dimension - Lemon Demon

* Look Who’s Inside Again - Bo Burnham

* Hollywood Baby - 100 gecs

* Problems - Mother Mother

* Something Glowing - Lemon Demon

* The Guide to Success - Joe Iconis / Eric William Morris

* Flap Flap - Patricia Taxxon

* Hot Air Balloon - Owl City

* Baby One More Time - Britney Spears

* Cilantro - Patricia Taxxon

* Shooting Star - Owl City

* Mamma Mia - ABBA

* Swear To God the Devil Made Me Do It - The Front Bottoms

* Teenagers - My Chemical Romance

* Big Wheel - Patricia Taxxon

* Fine - Lemon Demon

* Perfect - Marianas Trench

* Alone Together - Fall Out Boy

* Modern Day Cain - I Don’t Know How But They Found Me

* Bloodeater - Girls Rituals

* Against the Kitchen Floor - Will Wood

* Kill All Your Friends - My Chemical Romance

* Scare Me - Ludo

* September - Earth Wind & Fire

* Wow Wow - Neil Cicierega

* Have It All - Jason Mraz

* I’m Still Here - John Rzeznik

* Yellow Horse - cats millionaire

* Honest - Patricia Taxxon

* Son of a Gun - Joe Iconis / Eric William Morris

* Peach - The Front Bottoms

* …well, better than the alternative - Will Wood

* Candy Store - Heathers

* When the Chips are Down - Hadestown

* Aurora Borealis - Lemon Demon

* Goodbye - Bo Burnham

* Twin Size Mattress - The Front Bottoms

* Dumbest Girl Alive - 100 gecs

* Killer in the Mirror - Set It Off

* A Sadness Runs Through Him - The Hoosiers

* Bad Guy - Set It Off

* My Alcoholic Friends - Dresden Dolls

* SAD - Lemon Demon

* Happily Ever After - He Is We

* True Kinda Love - Steven Universe

* Everything Stays - Adventure Time

* I Bet on Losing Dogs - Mitski

* Love Love Love - The Mountain Goats

* Goodbye to a World - Porter Robinson

* King - Lauren Aquiliana

* Stand By You - Rachel Platton

* Ready Now - Dodie

* Seventeen (Reprise) - Heathers

* Gone, Gone, Gone - Phillip Phillips

* Time To Pretend - MGMT

* Die Young - Kesha

* Good Time - Owl City

* Anything For You - Ludo

* Monster - Adventure Time

* You Love Me - Kimya Dawson

[kazz-brekker]

hotd episode thoughts

listen, as someone who enjoys some good dragon drama, i feel fantastically well catered-to by this episode

the confrontation between rhaenyra and addam was fun, i liked that it's apparently kind of inspired by western face-offs but with dragons instead of guns

that conversation between larys and ironrod while they were watching aemond sentence men to the watch definitely implied to me that, unlike with his brother, the council is so wary of/intimidated by aemond they don't even want to talk to him about possibly important war developments. which does not bode well for team green's stability in the future, tbh

jace stop being mean about mysaria that's your mom's girlfriend you're talking about :(

i did find the conversation between rhaenyra and jace really interesting, i hadn't considered that the sowing of the seeds plan might bring out so much of his insecurities about being a bastard. he and rhaenyra have probably the most functional parent-child relationship in the show, but they really DON'T talk about this aspect of his life at all, and it really shows

oscar tully unexpected mvp of the episode perhaps? holding his own against that whole council of river lords…calling daemon loathsome…making him execute willem blackwood to atone for spurring on those war crimes…king shit!

i enjoyed getting to see viserys again, i've really missed his actor this season and seeing daemon's reaction to his ruined face was quite interesting

daemon you are SO close to realizing that you don't actually want to be king and would make a terrible ruler, i'm rooting for you to figure this out by the season finale

the scene with aegon and larys talking was probably my favorite from last week so i really liked that we got a follow-up on it. very impressed that aegon is capable of walking even the tiniest amount after what he's been through

rhaena running off into the mountains…she's getting that dragon by hook or by crook

ulf trying to get out of claiming a dragon by claiming he had an injury made me laugh

i like that hugh and ulf have totally different reactions to being possible dragonseeds, one boasting and the other hiding it

alicent was serving real ophelia by john william waterhouse vibes this episode

loved that the dragonkeepers had a huge fight with rhaenyra over the sowing of the seeds, they're in the background of so many dragon scenes but we've never gotten much perspective on what they think of dragons or the targaryen right to claim them before

i do admit to saying "wow, those are some toasty boys" out loud when vermithor was torching those poor dragonseeds

love love LOVE that we got to see both vermithor and silverwing this episode, they look so cool and i love their distinct designs

i have been waiting ALL SEASON for the payoff of hugh and ulf claiming those dragons and it was such an exciting sequence, you could really feel the adrenaline and the danger the whole time

ryan condal on the inside the episodes comparing the death of the dragonseeds to ritual sacrifice was also super fun symbolism

another daeron mention, hi daeron and tessarion :)

also house beesbury making problems for the hightowers, love to see it

after aemond has spent so much time this season intimidating and terrifying other people it WAS super fun to see him do a hard swerve into fear when he saw how many dragonriders rhaenyra has now

that final shot of rhaenyra standing on the dragonmount with syrax, vermithor, and silverwing behind her DID get to, i must say. it's house of the dragon! and we have the dragons!!!

okay yeah i am super hyped for the finale and whatever it may bring, seems like it's gonna be epic. the triarchy! the dragons! the riverlands! helaena in the war effort, apparently?! what fun!

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[comicaurora]

In stars and time is definitely a case of the last of their kind trope

I'm guessing it didn't make the cut because you learned about it when the video was mostly finished

Also where exactly did you talk about it

Was it a live stream?

It came up on the OSPod this week! And yeah, I had that video locked in a month or so back, ISAT only crossed my radar in the last couple weeks. It's a very interesting invocation of the trope, and I think the true eldritch horror of the fact that nobody can remember anything about the lost island really contributes to the Last Of Their Kind angst with Siffrin and the King. Having your home destroyed is one thing - having all memory of your home destroyed too is unfathomably devastating.

It's a subtle touch, but I also really like how Siffrin's separation from the culture of the people around them is laid out in a lot of the dialogue options. At least at the start of the game, Siffrin doesn't remember that they come from the lost island, but he instinctively remembers all of the Wishcraft rituals he was presumably raised on, and that a suitable burial rite would be to carry them to the highest mountain peak, and that "stars" is his curseword of choice, and the names of all of the equipment that comes with studying the stars and planets, and that bonding earrings are weird. The space of things that come naturally to him and things that feel strange is very cleanly woven into the narrative in such a way that we can see the ghost of Siffrin's culture in how it sets them apart from the rest of his team, even before he starts actively trying to figure that stuff out. And he has a great point of contrast with Odile, who is also an outsider but is very aware of and open about this fact and routinely points out things she finds strange or unusual.

The worldbuilding of this game makes me want to bite something.

[servantofthefates]

Spell Ingredients in Traditional Witchcraft

As one would imagine, some of this is now illegal, considered barbaric, or relegated to myth. But others remain. For example, blood magic has stayed.

Human or Animal Fluids and Body Parts

Your blood proves your devotion and serves as your signature. Your target’s blood allows you to manipulate them. Similarly, your saliva, when consumed by another person or an animal, gives you considerable power over them.

Animal entrails are consulted for divination. Their organs are often used in healing balms and all sorts of potions. In curses, the animal that represents a person can serve as a living poppet.

Fruits, Herbs and Other Foodstuff

Then and now, these are staple ingredients. Leaves and eggs are used for divination. Plants, tree barks, grass, crops, and fruits are used in healing ointments, sleeping draughts, teas that induce miscarriage, and worn and edible amulets.

Perhaps lesser known is the use of poisonous mushrooms, flowers and seeds. Simply by being cooked or brewed, they can kill a target from a distance – if fed to an animal, that distance can extend beyond continents.

Religious and National Relics

This list includes the more generic garments of saints, crowns of kings and queens, and armors of warriors, as well as the very specific Holy Grail, Blood of Christ and the True Cross (fragments of the wood from the cross Jesus supposedly died on).

These relics are believed to hold immense power that can be harnessed to heal untreatable illnesses, grab or maintain power, increase beauty and wisdom, raise the dead, and attain immortality. As can be expected, rituals that require them are rarely executed, as these items are rather unusual.

Objects Obtained During a Quest

A common wildflower taken from the top of a specific mountain… A normal fish taken from a particular river… Your typical holy water taken from a faraway cathedral… Ordinary items made extraordinary through the method by which they were obtained.

The logic behind it is that the spellcaster proved the strength of his or her intentions, by overcoming any challenge that came with securing them. Such ingredients are incredibly potent.

Yes, traditional witchcraft can sound weird in this time and age. Click here to find out why.

[weird-obsessed-girl]

Bagginshield Fic Rec

I can’t believe I’ve had such an intense revival into The Hobbit Fandom after being obsessed with the movies when they came out just over 10 years ago now. There’s just some fandoms that have consistently amazing fanfics that are written beautifully and with such interesting concepts.

Some of these are a bit silly and cracky but i think that’s the appeal of The Hobbit, it’s a bit more cheerful than LOTR (vehemently ignoring Battle of the Five Armies)

So below is a list of fics I have loved reading organised by word count smallest to largest.

If you have any fics that you’ve read and don’t see here please share them with me! P.S, if you need more fics to read after these please check out the author’s other works.

Fanfiction Title - Author

Tags, description of fic | word count | rating

And Down the Road I Goes - pibroch (littleblackdog)

Kid!fic, mpreg, humour, dwobbits, beard problems | 1.3k | T

All That Glitters - BeautifulFiction

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, Dwarven culture and customs, Dwarven jewellery | 1.5k | G

Truth - alkjira

Body image issues, post-BAFTA, everybody lives, Dwarven beauty standards | 1.9k | T

Brethren, Braids and a Bothersome Burglar - Frankensteins_Monster

Unintentional Dwarven courting, and then intentional after communication is cleared up, Hair Braiding | 2.3k | T

There is A Child - smileybagel

Foresight, canonical character death, Thorin POV | 2.7k | T

Of the King and Consort’s Portraits - undomiel (dolcewrites)

Cultural differences, painting portraits, Erebor and Shire Parallels, domestic fluff | 3.4K | T

Shorn - Avelera

Mourning ritual, Dwarf culture and customs, misunderstandings, pre-slash, Long-beards mentioned! 3.5k | G

A Chance to Make It Right - smileybagel

Thorin is offered a second chance, magical dreams of future children, second part to “There is A Child” | 3.6k | G

The Proper Way To Call You Mine - Fantasyinallforms

Hair braiding, post-BAFTA, misunderstandings, Fili and Kili meddling, getting together, jealous Thorin | 3.6k | T

And in our love u see golden things - Seungshi03

Goldsickness as a mental health condition, domestic fluff, consort Bilbo | 3.7k | G

Riddles in the Dark Brought into the Light - Lucigoo89

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, PTSD, loooove fics where the trauma from the journey is included, background Dwalin/Nori | 3.8k | G

In More than the Wisdom of Years - jezebel_rising

Dis POV, everyone lives, reunions, Dis and Bilbo friendship | 4.2k | Not rated

A Dwarven Beauty - bevel_bee

Dwarven beauty standards, Bilbo is considered very attractive, but he’s very oblivious to the compliments, post-BAFTA | 4.6k | G

The Seven Gifts - snowmissus (soul_of_blaze)

Dwarf and hobbit courting, awkwardness, Bilbo remains in Erebor, miscommunication | 5.1k | G

The Stone’s Gift - SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Established relationship, consort Bilbo, “the Dwarven equivalent of cabbage patch hobbits”, dwarves made from literal stone, unplanned pregnancy | 5.2k | T

One Remedy for Gold Sickness (or maybe two) - randi2204

Bilbo uses an ancient hobbit remedy for greedy folks, flabbergasted dwarves | 5.8k | T * need to have an Ao3 account

Better an ugly face than an ugly mind - unpeumacabre

Dwarven beauty standards (and hobbit ones), Thorin POV | 6.1k | T

A Minor Problem - fideliant

Smut, thorin finds out Bilbo’s age, obliviousness to different species’ life expectancies | 6.4K | E

Bruises on the Heart - thehufflepuffhobbit

5 + 1 times, soulmate au, Thorin POV, bruises, sharing a bed, during the journey | 7.8k | E

Clue-finder - TheGrayKnight

Post-BAFTA, Dwarven courting, cultural differences | 9k | G

Queen Under the Mountain - benny_Laur

Character death (not really), Dis POV, I LOVE DIS, Requited love, Kili definitely should not be in charge of communications | 11k | Not rating

Call You Home - northerntrash

Hobbit culture, including hidden names (I like the hobbit side as it’s a popular trope that dwarves have hidden names), Thorin’s puppy-eyes, the company | 11.9K | Not rated

Planting a Hobbit - northerntrash

Everyone lives, post-BAFTA, homesickness, domestic fluff, Thorin builds Bilbo a garden trope! 13k | Not rated

Forget-Me-Not - kerkusa, LordOfTheRazzles

Established relationship, post-BAFTA, healing Thorin causes temporary amnesia, Dwarf and Hobbit courting (again) | 14k | G

Defying Death (or at least the ones in charge) - Lucigoo89

I have yet to read this yet but it looks very promising! Bilbo has died and now it’s time for him to smuggle himself into Mahalia Halls to see his love again | 15.1k | T

Ere Break of Day - alexaprilgarden

During the journey, falling in love, Dwarven Ones, soulmates, everyone lives, angst | 15.6k | E

The Different Shades of Bilbo’s Love - SunnyRose

Kid Bilbo wants to be friends with Thorin, consenting adult romance later on, friends to lovers, flower language, Belladonna Took! 17.5k | G

I have loved you and you have not known it - KaavyaWriting

Miscommunication, the company come up with a way of making friends with a hobbit that is inaccurate, jealous Thorin, during the journey | 17.7k | G

You Got Me - drunkonwriting

Company-centric, dwarf culture, fluff, during the journey, friendship fic | 18.9k | G

Gardening - The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Bilbo returns to Shire, Kid!fic, cabbage patch hobbits, Bilbo’s under the impression Thorin died (he’s wrong) | 19.7k | T

My Princess, My Love, Marry Me! - mordelle

Alt universe, Princess Thorin visits the Shire, pinning Bilbo, Thorin is considered ugly by Dwarven beauty standards, smut | 36.3k | E

[flamingfoxninja]

This makes so much sense why Kipperlilly was asking about how Kristen made Yes! And specifically Where she made Yes! at.

Kristen made a whole new Deity through Arthur Augfort's office and school. As a powerful cleric she reached into the Astral Plane and made life out of her questioning and worship. She temporarily had access to the realm of dead gods to make something from nothing. This was all set in the making from day one.

Jace was working with Kalina and Arianwen to revive The Nightmare King and The Rage Goddess. That's what Ragh saw in front of the office after Prompocolypse. They used Kalvaxis wanting to regain his power as a bigger play to bring back their corrupted and dead deities. A chess piece in a series of steps.

While Kalina was going to bring back The Nightmare King, Jace would work on bringing back The Rage Goddess through Elmville. Kristen already proved that Augefort Academy has access to the Astral Plane. He found and targeted students susceptible to rage, took them to the Mountains of Chaos where the Divine Wedding took place and force the students to make a choice: live for Rage or stay dead.

The Rat Grinders made that choice except for Lucy. Which is a problem because the Need a Cleric. The people the Rat Grinders killed from the school have been Clerics, because with Kristen's method you need a powerful connection to a Deity and Worship to bring life to one.

Lucy worshiped a Giant Goddess, she would have been perfect but she refused.

Yolanda gave up any affiliation to a specific deity, neutral but powerful in worship. She would be a worthy vessel but she refused.

Buddy was brought to always be killed. A follower of Helio, the son of Sol who had corrupted the Goddesses in the first place. He is the grandson of a powerful Cleric, and has that same connection and power within himself. Kipperlilly didn't kill Buddy in panic, that was the plan all along: bypass Obliviti Mori by killing a cleric to meet the Rage Goddess in the Astral Plane, then revive them to spread the word and start the ritual. Buddy was just the first one to accept.

Like in Sylvaire, they are seeding Rage to make their own version of the Nightmare Forest to bring back The Rage Goddess. It's going to bloom and spread, rake over Elmville and the Augefort Academy where the Astral Connection is.

These plans have been started since Freshman Year, and have been defeated all because on goblin was just trying to find his babysitter and another halfling just couldn't handle that.

[scoops-aboy86]

Your Smile Is My Favorite

Prompt Used: Summer reading (@thehairandthebanished) and cheesy pickup lines (@softsteddieseptember) | Your Smile Is My Favorite | Rating: T | CW: mild body image issues | Additional Tags: chubby Steve Harrington, gay Eddie Munson, pining, bizarre communication through intricate pickup line rituals, Robin loves these two idiots

I wrote most of this while on a 11 hour car trip, I’ll post it to ao3 later. 🥱 Still the 4th in my time zone though!

It’s hard to stay absorbed in a book when Steve Harrington is swimming laps in his little red shorts, but Eddie is managing. 

Sort of. Kinda. 

Okay, not really. Or at all. 

But he’s read Return of the King so many times before that he can fill in any paragraphs his eyes accidentally skim over from memory, so it’s fine. And he definitely rolled high on stealth by being smart enough to bring sunglasses, because Middle Earth has nothing on his view of Steve’s chest while the guy does the backstroke. 

Earlier in the summer Steve would have been poolside with Eddie and Robin, sprawled out in the sun snacking on pizza and chips with them and letting Eddie draw him into their umpteenth debate on which is better, Coca Cola or Mountain Dew. Now he’s going at it in the pool like he has something to prove, or diving in over and over while complaining about his form. 

Which, Eddie thinks, is a very fine form indeed. He’s thickened up some since their harrowing adventures last Spring Break, transformed from merely good-looking to downright beefy in a way that makes Eddie’s mouth water and fingers twitch with the urge to rake through that tantalizing chest hair, test the give of Steve’s deliciously softer pecs and stomach. It’s starting to become a problem. 

As if Aragorn, son of Arathorn, would have an easier time concentrating on a book about the Party’s adventures if Arwen were parading around in front of him while scantily clad, Eddie thinks, trying to make himself feel like a little bit less of a pining loser. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Robin says, sounding bored from the next lounge chair over. She hasn’t even looked up from her own book. 

Eddie considers protesting. He could; they’ve never actually discussed the way they’d clocked each other as queer during Spring Break, he has plausible deniability. 

Instead, he says, “Got a camera you can loan me, Birdie?”

She snorts, sliding her bookmark into place as she turns towards him on her lounger. “No, but now that we’re talking about it, can we talk about how your crush is visible from, like, space?”

“He is not!” The protest tumbles out of him before Eddie even thinks about it, and his cheeks immediately flare red under layers of sunblock. It’s not like Robin would talk about the way her platonic soulmate had recently put on some extra weight like that, Eddie is just a moron. Well, he’ll just have to blow past it and pretend he’d been… bluffing about his crush not being Steve. Yeah. “Uh, I mean. Fuck, I’m not being too obvious, am I?”

Robin’s grin is smug, and definitely a little bit at his expense. “Not really. You’re super easily distracted when there’s more people around, so the kids haven’t picked up on it yet.” She glances back at the pool and the expression softens to amused affection. “It’s written all over your face right now, but I’m pretty sure dingus over there has this fixed idea about your type being all dark clothes and leather and tattoos. He’ll never figure it out on his own, completely hopeless.”

That’s a relief to hear. Eddie relaxes beneath the shade of his poolside umbrella, glances down at his book again… 

And snaps it shut and scrunches up on his side to face her too. He’ll be able to find his place again later, more or less. The occasional splashes of Steve reaching one side of the pool and flipping around to swim back fades into the background for the first time all day in the face of this new, unexplored conversational territory. 

“So,” he says matter-of-factly. Because he’s reconciled with this a long time ago: Robin has literally helped save his life a number of times, she’s safe. “Clearly you’ve got me all figured out. And there’s no way you could be around that all the time and still get anything done without being… oppositely inclined.”

She nods, and the teeny tiny bit of him that had been braced just in case he was wrong relaxes. “Yeah. I don’t see the appeal, but I’ve literally seen a few girls walk into things when they catch sight of him.”

Eddie snickers, like the hypocrite slightly wired on nerves and relief that he is. Curbs, trash cans, the glass doors of Family Video… he’s been there, done that, and been forced to turn it into a bit so no one catches on to what all of those instances had in common. (Steve smiling at him. Steve looking at him. Just, Steve.)

“Not as many lately though,” Robin confides, a little sad. “Shallow bitches.”

“Shallow as hell,” Eddie agrees. One hundred percent. “They have no idea what they’re missing out on.”

“It’s taking a toll on him,” she continues. “You know, how his hair kinda deflates a little when he’s bummed out? Those great big puppy dog eyes come out and it’s all—” her voice drops in a possible Steve impression “—‘Is it me, Rob? What am I doing wrong?’”

Eddie huffs a wordless disagreement with that whole sentiment. Wrong with Steve? Wrong with Steve? There’s nothing wrong with Steve, in his opinion. Badass scars, heart of gold, hair of the gods, and a little more meat on his bones making him even more solid and dependable? Sign Eddie the fuck up. 

Sure, there’s also the nightmares and a general jumpiness whenever the phone rings or lights flicker or a radio starts to crackle, but the same can be said of pretty much everyone in the Party, Eddie included. It’s perfectly understandable after everything they’ve been through, the number of times they’ve helped save the world. 

“I think that’s why he’s leaning so hard into swimming again,” Robin adds. And even though she seems totally casual, there’s something… not pointed, exactly, but definitely not dull behind her words. She’s giving him a look that Eddie can’t figure out, because he just doesn’t have the same kind of in-tune-ness with her that she and Steve display on a regular basis, having conversations with nothing but stares, blinks, and funny eyebrow twitches. 

He tries anyway. Even pushes his sunglasses up into his hair for a clearer look, but message not received. Frowning, he glances over his shoulder at the pool again. “Because he’s… upset about not going on dates lately?”

Not that Eddie had been paying attention or anything. Not that he’d daydreamed hopelessly a few times that it was because Steve was hung up on him, lingering a bit more than necessary when dropping off and picking up the kids on Hellfire days. Inviting Eddie to hangout days like this. Taking Eddie up on it whenever he offers to smoke the guy out, usually when they both have dark circles from sleeping poorly blooming under their eyes and everything about the no longer in peril world around them feels like too much. Springing for fast food whenever they get the munchies, since Eddie supplied the grass…

“Because he thinks there’s something wrong about him,” Robin corrects, “that he needs to work out.” 

Oh. What—oh. Eddie blinks, reorients, and realizes that the thing he hadn’t been able to read before is concern. “But… he looks so good,” he says dumbly. 

Steve is self-conscious about his weight? Oh no, that won’t do at all. Eddie’s mind is already racing through ways to reassure their friend that he looks great, fantastic, amazing, all the positive adjectives that he knows. He wants to build Steve up, make sure he knows that there are definitely people who would absolutely jump at the chance to be with him. 

Or, you know, right here. Or something. 

Splashing sounds draw his attention back to the pool, and it’s Steve wading up the shallow end towards them, apparently tired out for the time being. And Eddie… panics. 

“Damn, Harrington,” he blurts out, “is it hot out here or is it just you?”

Which is. It’s. Something out of that terrible pickup lines book one of the Corroded Coffin guys found at a yard sale a few weeks ago—he can’t remember who exactly, maybe Jeff?—that they’d all howled over, reading the worst ones out loud in ridiculous voices. Why the hell is that what popped into his head?

Steve pauses with one foot still in the pool, squinting at him. “Uh… It’s definitely hot today. Are you… overheated or something? I could get you some ice water.”

“No, I’m good,” Eddie manages. And then, because he’s an idiot, he continues, “Have I told you lately that you’re very attractive? You must eat magnets for breakfast.”

He catches a glimpse of Robin out of the corner of one eye. For a second he hopes that she might step in and save him from himself, but nope; her face is frozen in a look of appalled fascination. No help coming from that quarter. 

“I,” Steve starts, stepping the rest of the way out of the pool and putting both hands on his hips like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. “Dude, are you high?”

If only he were. The proximity of Steve’s naked, dripping wet chest and the gentle roll over the top of his swim trunks seems to have roughly the same effect on him though. 

“Nope,” Eddie squeaks. His face feels incandescent, and he can’t even blame it on a sunburn. And still he opens his mouth again, because he’s already gone this far, might as well commit to the bit. “But we should smoke up later, sweetheart. I think weed be really good together.”

That one wasn’t from the book. It’s an Eddie Munson original. If death took him now, he would not hate it. 

Steve looks to Robin, who shrugs and throws him a towel. He catches it and starts drying his hair, returning his attention to Eddie with a perplexed look. “Low blood sugar?” he asks, and it takes a second for Eddie to place that Steve is still trying to guess why he’s being so weird. 

As if the Freak of Hawkins needs something so pedestrian as a reason. 

“We can order pizza,” Robin suggests in a strangled voice. She’s trying so hard not to laugh, which is good. Probably. 

Eddie can muster a little gratitude for that, right up until he opens his mouth again and “Oh, are you craving pizza? Because I’d love to get a pizz-a you” falls out. 

… Maybe he does have low blood sugar. Or, like. A brain tumor or something. 

Steve sends Robin another look, then shrugs and heads inside the house. Presumably to order pizza, and hopefully for Eddie’s sanity to put on a shirt. 

As soon as the glass door slides shut behind him, Robin whips around and whisper yells, “What the hell was that?!”

Eddie throws himself back on his lounger and covers his face with both hands. “I don’t know. I wanted to cheer him up, make him feel good about himself or something, but—”

“And you thought hitting on him would do the trick? Very badly, I might add!”

“Oh, like you know anything about what works when hitting on dudes!” Eddie shoots back, even though she’s right. So very right. Cruelly correct, to a poor gay man who is suffering. 

He rolls over on the chair, only putting a knee or elbow through the plastic straps beneath him a few times before flopping face down and tugging his own unused towel over his entire head. It’s almost restful under there. The lounger cradles his face a little too high because the back is still angled slightly up for, you know, lounging… and Return of the King is dry and solid under one shoulder, twisting his frame a little oddly, but other than that…

~

By the time Steve comes back outside, Eddie barely notices. He feels slow and drowsy from the heat, everything muffled by the towel. But he does hear a scrape over the concrete beneath him and cracks an eye open to peer through the gaps in the chair. 

It’s a slice of pepperoni and extra cheese on a paper plate, positioned directly below his head, right where he can smell it. 

Fuck, okay. He can’t not get up for food freely offered. It’s just not how Wayne raised him. 

“There you are,” Steve says brightly when Eddie emerges and resituates himself with the plate in hand. “Feeling better? Seemed like the heat was getting to you there.”

“Must’ve,” Eddie replies with a weak laugh. “Thanks.” For the pizza, and for allowing him some semblance of dignity to fall back on after… whatever that had been. Because Steve, above all else, is a good dude; something Eddie has been all too aware of for over a year now. 

Steve passes him a can of Mountain Dew and taps his own Coke can against it like a toast. “Don’t mention it. And, uh, Eds…” He’s starting to smile, just a little. “I know this is going to sound cheesy, but I think you're the gratest.”

Somewhere to Eddie’s other side, Robin chokes on her drink and has to cough a few times to clear it. 

Eddie just stares, jaw dropped open and feeling flushed all over, heart in his throat. Even with his hair still wet and smelling strongly of chlorine, Steve has somehow retained that signature swoop. Maybe he fixed it while he was inside, procuring pizza and slipping into an old and raggedy high school gym shirt that makes him only slightly less biteable. 

And that smile, fully bloomed now and brighter than the afternoon sun. Like he’s decided, playfully, to meet Eddie at his level no matter how dumb it is. 

“Alright,” Robin rasps. “Okay. I’m just gonna go inside to finish my summer reading while you dingi do… whatever this is.” Followed by the creak of her chair as she clambers off. 

“Don’t mess with the thermostat,” Steve calls after her. He turns slightly to do it and releases Eddie from his tractor beam stare, letting Eddie breathe again—when had he stopped doing that? And then those hazel eyes are back on him, hypnotizing. “Well? Cat got your tongue, or do you have any more?”

The words are… different, now that they’re alone. Quieter. Steve is leaning forward slightly, legs over the side of the chair as he faces Eddie. Elbows on his knees and Coke can dangling forgotten from one big hand. His stare is intense in a way that is almost too terrifying to try to read into. 

Eddie wets his lips nervously. “No, I… I’ve got more.” He sits up a little straighter, turns to put his feet down on the shaded but still warm concrete and face Steve head-on. “I’m no photographer, but I can picture us together.”

It sounds, feels, almost terrifyingly like a confession. 

Steve’s grin gets impossibly brighter and Eddie is back to not daring to breathe, because what is happening. “Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile.”

Which is. That’s. Does he? Eddie is having some sort of out of body experience trying to think back. 

The part of him that’s still anchored in bones and nerves and skin takes a deep breath. Committing to it. 

“Of all the beautiful curves on your body, your smile is my favorite,” he hears himself say, and it’s probably the plainest, most honest words he’s uttered in his entire twenty-one years of life. 

It’s not like he thinks Steve is going to punch him for saying it. Or even for saying it like that. Good dude, inescapable. But he wasn’t expecting the guy’s eyes to go big and molten, or for him to swallow hard, all while that amazing smile never dims. 

“I’m… Shit, I’m going to give you a kiss, Eddie. If you don't like it, you can return it.”

And then Steve leans forward, and does. 

~

Half an hour later, Robin comes back outside to check on them and finds the two young men twined together on one lounger. Steve is sprawled half on top of Eddie, who looks like he’s holding him in place with both legs and teasing a half eaten slice of pizza against Steve’s mouth. Steve snaps at it with his teeth, and Eddie yanks it away but then goes back in to tap it against his lips anyway with a laugh, loose and easy. Happy. 

They both look so happy together. 

She knew it. All she’d had to do was get those two pining idiots talking about something real—even if Eddie had surprised her with a deeply unexpected means of doing so. Whatever, he’s weird, nothing new there. The important thing is that her plan to end her two best friends’ ridiculous mutual pining for one another had worked. 

And Steve hadn’t believed her when she’d insisted that the metalhead definitely doesn’t think it’s a bad thing that his clothes all fit a little more snug these days. Ha. One more tally on her own You Rule column. 

Feeling magnanimous, Robin decides to wait until they’re done with lunch to turn the hose on them. 

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[the-californicationist]

WIP Wednesday: Cali's Road to 100

The final seven are outlined and ready to be loaded into the fucking cannon, babes. Here's a special edition of WIP Wednesday in honor/horror of my attempt at writing 100 COD fanfics in one calendar year.

The Archives (Tumblr Ask) John Price, retired SAS Captain, spends Friday nights working in the archives of his city's library. At first he was security, just something quiet after all of his chaos... but, then he fell in love with the work. That is, until he sees one of his regulars in a different light, and now he just can't decide how to handle you. How sturdy are these shelves, exactly?

Picking Flowers (Tumblr Ask) A Hades/Persephone retelling where Price's rule in the Underworld has reached a fever-pitch. Without a queen to rule by his side, he risks allowing the Souls to escape. Luckily, he spots a pretty little nymph who will be just the right fit.

Get Ratio'd (Tumblr Ask) When your 141 boyfriend switches Tinder accounts with you for a day, he is shocked and appalled by the mountain of messages you get, both sweet and sour. By the time you switch back, your man is ready to prove to you that he's not taking you for granted.

The Runoff (Tumblr Ask) Price has retired from his life as a soldier, and he's decided to serve his country as a public servant. You are one of his campaign managers, and all of the late nights are starting to get to your head. The runoff election is getting closer and closer, and you two need to find a way to let off some steam.

The Old Way An ABO AU where Alphas control the peace between their packs only by inter-marriage agreements, Omegas are almost unheard of, wiped out from brutal warfare. But, when an enemy pack is desperate for food and resources, they surrender their rarest treasure: an Omega, ready to be bred. She is such a special prize, Price decides to honor her through an ancient ritual... a very public display of his commitment to his new bride.

For Queen and Country A medieval AU where you are the recently-ascended queen of a wealthy land. However, an old treaty has arranged a marriage between you and the king of a distant land. Without an heir, you are bound by law to proceed with the wedding. But, your loyal guardsmen vow to help you retain your rule on the throne... by any means necessary.

100 Heheheheehhe...

[theladysunami]

Many other people have already posted their thoughts on the various peaks of Cang Qiong Mountain sect, so I figure I might as well throw my own thoughts and preferred headcanons out there.

First, my thoughts on the peaks we know exist but don't know much about in terms of their specialties:

Xian Shu Peak: Textiles Peak

This is my favorite headcanon for the all women's peak! The textiles industry is a big part of Chinese history, and was traditionally considered to be women's work, so it would only make sense for it to be Xian Shu Peak's peak specialty. It's not just one specific skill either, as spinning, weaving, dying, garment making, embroidery, rope/cord-making, etc. are all a part of the industry.

As they are a cultivation peak, I expect some of the products of their work to be defensive robes with talismans or incantations stitched into the fabric, Qiankun bags or sleeves, spirit trapping pouches, etc. If rope making is included in their preview, they could also be involved in making immortal binding cables, nets, and so forth.

Ku Xing Peak: Rites, Rituals and Purification Peak

We don't know much about Ku Xing Peak except that they live an aesthetic lifestyle. As it's common for individuals to take on certain aspects of aestheticism (simple clothes, restricted diets, abstinence, etc.) before engaging in many types of rituals, I'm inclined to believe a peak that practices aestheticism at all times would be particularly well suited for such tasks.

I tend to imagine their peak being similar to the Gusu Lan Clan, minus the music aspect (music being Qing Jing's purview). They could specialize in things like summoning spirits, communing with the dead, dispelling resentment, exorcisms, purifying objects or locations, properly laying the dead to rest, etc.

Since SVSSS predominantly focuses on demons, not ghosts, it's only natural a peak that deals more in spiritual cleansing and laying the dead to rest wouldn't be involved in the plot much.

Zui Xian Peak: Potions and Elixers Peak

While lot of fanfics make jokes about Zui Xian being a peak for alcoholics (which is completely fair, as this is the dick joke filled world of SVSSS we're talking about), my first thought upon learning of Zui Xian Peak's specialty was the immorality granting heavenly wine in the Journey to the West. Looking into the matter more, I've since learned that wine has actually been a huge part of Chinese medicine since the Han Dynasty. The traditional character for medicine even includes the radical for wine!

With this kind of precedent, it seems only logical that Zui Xian Peak doesn't merely make alcohol for social and/or enjoyment purposes, it's quite likely to be the ‘external alchemy’ peak of Cang Qiong Mountain. I expect they grow and process at least some of their own herbs and ingredients, along with performing other alcohol and potion making tasks like brewing, distilling, extracting, fermenting, filtering, infusing, and so on.

Next, my thoughts on what the three mystery peaks might be:

I am not going to try and name these peaks, as I struggle with naming things even in my own native tongue.

Hunting, Trapping and Scouting Peak

Having read MDZS before SVSSS, I found the distinct lack of archery in SVSSS to be quite peculiar. As the peak of scholars and strategists, I suppose it's only logical Qing Jing Peak focuses on the four scholarly arts (the guqin, strategy games, calligraphy, and painting), rather then the six arts of Confucian gentlemen (rites, music, archery, equestrianism, calligraphy, and mathematics), but that does leave several ‘arts’ free to be claimed by other peaks! This inspired me to think up a hunting and scouting peak, where disciples excel at archery and equestrianism.

Since mounted archers became a significant aspect of Chinese warfare in the 4th century BC, thanks to King Wuling of Zhao, I'd say having cultivators of this sort in a Xianxia setting is perfectly reasonable. Giving Cang Qiong Mountain sect scouts also nicely fills the gap in their martial capabilities. Without this peak they have strategists, weapon craftsman, ground troops, and suppliers, but no reconnaissance forces!

I also consider this peak to be the rough equivalent of the ‘Beast Taming Peak’ so many works are fond of. Who else could breed and control hundreds of spirit eagles for the Immortal Alliance Conference but a group of cultivators focused on scouting missions? As supernaturally superior mounts and spirit (hunting) dogs would be incredibly helpful to them, they'd likely engage in horse and dog breeding programs as well! Their skill as hunters and trappers would also permit them both to provide game for Cang Qiong Mountain sect, and to aid in the rounding up of various living monsters for both alchemical ingredient harvesting and for releasing at events like the Immortal Alliance Conference.

In summary, this peak would produce disciples skilled at equestrianism, archery, falconry, animal husbandry, scouting, herb gathering, hunting, trapping, etc. For anyone familiar with D&D, I did basically make a Ranger peak here, but I stand by that decision!

Artifacts, Arrays and Invention Peak

Every time I read a work with some variation on the "Mad Scientist Peak" I adore it, so naturally I have to include this type of peak as well. This peak would be for the Wei Wuxians of the cultivation world, hoping to revolutionize cultivation society!

Their focus would be mathematics, spell geometry, arrays, talismans, non-medicinal alchemy (aka ancient materials science), engineering and of course artifact recovery, study and creation. The crystal mirror ‘surveillance equipment’ from the Immortal Alliance Conference? These guys would be the ones that developed it!

Agriculture, Earthworks and Architecture Peak

While I admittedly don't know the nuances of feng shui, I am at least aware there is far more to it then what you usually see in western depictions. In MDZS, it's noted that an area having bad feng shui (like Yi City) can cause premature death, disaster, and an increase in all sorts of nasty supernatural phenomena! With this in mind, a peak that focuses on connecting to and harmonizing with one's environment seems perfect for the final Cang Qiong Mountain peak.

I don't imagine this peak doing much of the actual building in the sect (that's An Ding's job) but when it comes to designing the sect's buildings, or altering its geography through earthworks, they're the ones to talk to. I also see them as producing at least some of the sect’s food supply, using their skills to encourage a positively supernatural abundance of plants.

In short, disciples of this peak would be skilled with things like architecture, earthworks, geography, topography, irrigation, agriculture, element manipulation, etc.

If SVSSS’s heavenly realms have anything akin to TGCF’s elemental masters, there is probably an unusually high chance they come from this peak.

[vintagerpg]

Another of my favorite series of books as a kid, Susan Cooper’s Dark is Rising sequence pairs well with both Weirdstone (and all of Garner’s work) and Prydain — it’s concerned with dual natures, the weight of responsibility, coming of age, the mythic landscape of pagan Britain, King Arthur, Welsh mythology and more.

The first novel, Over Sea, Under Stone (1965) is sort of an outlier, written earlier and in the style of a fairly standard children’s mystery in which the Drew siblings — Simon, Jane and Barney — unravel riddles to find something like a grail for someone who seems a lot like Merlin. The supernaturalism rises dramatically in The Dark is Rising (1973), in which 7th son of a 7th son Will Stanton comes into his power and thwarts the first moves of the Dark Rider in what will be the final battle between Light and Dark. Greenwitch (1974) returns to Cornwall and introduces the Drews to Will. Jane takes center stage here, communing with the titular entity, created each year in a folk ritual. It’s almost my favorite of the books, but that honor goes to The Grey King (1975) in which Will vacations in Wales and confronts a terrifying Power that lives in its mountains (this book feels very paired with Garner’s The Owl Service, 1967).

The Silver on the Tree (1977) has all the children and wraps up the battle decisively. The battle is a bit besides the point — it was prophesied the entire time that the Light would win. Rather, its about the journey. When all is said and done, the world is free to make its own way without the interference of cosmic forces and, cruelly, the children forget their magical adventure. Not me, though.

[quitealotofsodapop]

When Tieshan told Macaque of the scarf, she knew what she was doing. She may not know much of Ancient Stone Monkey culture, but she had 500 years, a mountain full of lost stories and secrets regarding the clan, and quite the incentive to learn as much as she could. After all, it could literally be the difference between life and death for Wukong and his second try at parenthood. She wasn't going to risk sowmthing as simple as a lack of knowledge from stopping her...

So somewhere on that island she came across a depiction of Stone Monkey mourning rituals, including how some monkeys would choose to bury themselves beside their mates during the Stone Egg ritual, or lacking a proper resting place, with their mate's former items so that the dao of their mate would be absorbed by their Egg. A way for their mate to live on through their child, so to speak. This means she knows what it means for Wukong to have buried himself with Macaque's scarf and continue to wear it as a waist wrap even now. And she knows Macaque and Marshall Ma knows it, too.

Pigsy asks her how she knew mentioning the scarf would get Macaque out of his funk.

Pigsy: How the hell did you know that would work!?

Tieshan: Because despite not being raised by them, Macaque is still a Stone Monkey of the Lotus-Eared variant. In their culture, to bury oneself with something covered in their mate's dao is to wish for the cub to absorb the dao and have a piece ofntheir mate pass on to the cub, if not in blood, then in spirit. We can see in Xiaotian's coloration how Wukong and Macaque's dao had mixed together to create a child that looks like both parents.

Marshall Ma: Wukong would have known about this as well, the Elder whom led us before Wukong had taken the throne of the Stone Matriarch had raised him with as much knowledge about the Stone Monkeys as he could before he passed.

Xiwangmu, interested: Stone Matriarch? I have not heard of such a being.

Marshall Ma: 'Tis the title of Wukong's predecessor, the one whom Azure claims to be Lady Sonzi's reincarnation. We know her as the Stone Matriarch of Flower Fruit Mountain. She had led our predecessor tribe before the Floods. It is said she had left an egg bearing her Heir upon the Mountain, the very same one Wukong had hatched from. It is why we made him the Monkey King once he had discovered the ancestral palace behind the Water-Curtain Cave.

Prev.

Tieshan did spend about 500 years watching the island as it's vigil, and protector. She and the Stalwarts had many times come together for meals and chats. The topic of mourning rituals came up when she expressed a comparison to Wukong's state to that of a funeral burial. The Stalwarts were quick to show her the murals inside of Water Curtain Cave, relaying the stories Elder passed on to them from his time. How the Stone Monkeys not could form a vestal child from their own Dao, but from the Dao of lost spouses - given that they buried themselves at their side or with their belongings so that the couple had a chance to produce a shared child.

Tieshan recalls how her sworn-brother's favourite scarf was last seen in Wukong's arms...

The reveal that Macaque is Xiaotian's other parent (spiritually and genetically) is enough for him to shake out of his funk - not only did Wukong still love him after all that happened, but he made an effort to ensure that his second child would be born with Macaque's life energy!

I like to think that before they leave Flower Fruit Mountain; Xiwangmu and the Jade Emperor make a point of finding one of Shíhuā's shrines/statues and sitting down to just... talk. Both to each other and to their daughter (or whomever she became). They ask her if she was happy in that life. Mention how her son can be such a handful at times but they care for him still.

Guanyin witnesses this from a distance. Tears roll down their face as it hits how the two royals truly see them their kin. They weren't lying when they called Guanyin their daughter, and Wukong their grandson.

[googleitlol]

If Dove's store went into the Lmk universe/storyline, how whould dove react to Mk? And Wukong being put into another circlet??

I'm sorry for how off the rails this ask is going to get, I'm including a lot of other stuff besides your questions cuz I've already thought about this a lot.

@marcu-bug and I have brought it up to each other before, and in LMK… Dove is reincarnated. Will I explain why?

…Not yet :D

For this, Dove is sort of like a maternal figure to MK (He's got so many dads, why not add a mom friend?). I have a oneshot planned where I'll go more into her character, but I imagine in the lmk universe, she’d be a paramedic that usually stops by Pigsy’s for lunch. Dinner too if she’s had a long day. Which is most days.

She definitely gets a lot of those ‘worried-parent’ feelings around MK and Mei, with how often they go jumping at the chance to do dumb shit. She’s seen a lot of things, but dear lord do those to take the cake for number of calls she’s had to respond to. Actually, that’s probably how she first discovered the noodle shop, responding to a call Pigsy made when Mei took MK for a ride on her motorcycle and they crashed. I imagine like an old bartender, Pigsy would listen to her rants about her shift with Tang enjoying a bowl next to her. Being a paramedic is tough, having her gift is helpful but sometimes Dove is running into hostile situations on the job. Sometimes she sees something that shakes her, but Pigsy and Tang are there to listen at the end of the day. It also helped her to unwind by hearing Tang tell MK all about the Journey to the West and the Monkey King. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't a little intrigued by his stories, just a bit.

She joins the monkie gang when the pilot begins and helps out when she can, and funnily enough, Red Son gets pretty uncomfortable around her. Not that she gets to join her friends too often, and for a very specific reason. Sun Wukong. At first, Dove thinks he's a generally cold guy, he's always on his mountain, doesn't socialize much, and he's pretty standoff-ish around her. But after seeing how he is with MK, she quickly realizes that isn't the case.

Okay, he's just an ass, then. A confusing one, at that.

It seems like Monkey King will do whatever it takes to avoid her, but at the same time, he pushes himself into her life in the most frustrating ways imaginable. Nearly anytime she's invited to do anything fun with her friends or go on any sort of adventure, she gets a call from her building manager that something is leaking in her apartment, or a strange call from her boss asking if she can do another shift last-minute, only for them to be none the wiser about ever asking her to do that. Dove didn't realize who was behind these strange happenings, but when she figured it out, boy was she pissed.

It's not uncommon to see Dove and Wukong arguing, much to MK's dismay. She just doesn't get why he's decided to hate her, he doesn't even know her! One time, he asked her to help a monkey of Flower Fruit Mountain that needed medical help, but when she got there, he left her stranded on the mountain while he went on vacation! Dove couldn't see the mainland for days until MK and Tang visited the mountain for a separate reason about some giant dumpling. It doesn't get much better when the team has to go looking for the Samadhi rings. If anything, it gets worse. Monkey King is so aggravated to even have Dove with them, she'd half-expect that he wanted her left to be frozen in the city with Lady Bone Demon! He doesn't want her anywhere near the ritual where they form the fire. The unfriendly behaviour doesn't stop until, well, Amnesia Rules…

When Monkey King loses his memory and gives her this look of shock, the last thing she expects is for him to scoop her into his arms with the tightest hug she's ever experienced. A flip switched in his attitude towards her, and it's made all the more confusing after he explains that Pigsy is Zhu Bajie and Tang is Tang Sanzang

"Who do you think I am, then?"

"You're my one and only, Love-Dove!"

She's not sure what's worse, that god-awful nickname or the fact that he thinks he's in love with her! Although, as the day goes by… she can't say she's unopposed to seeing this much friendlier side of him. Even if she only got to see it for a little while.

It likely wouldn't be until Wukong is about to face LBD that he finally admits to her why he was so upset about her being there, how she was the reincarnation of his one and only love. A love he lost, in a way that he could only blame himself. He couldn't bear the thought of putting her near harm's way again, not when their mission revolved around a power that was responsible for her past life's death (I might go into it in another ask/post, this is getting long)

After learning all of what they'd gone through in her past life, Dove is… apprehensive, to say the least. Some of his actions from the past, they make sense to her now, but it doesn't make her forgive him completely. Still, she remembers how Sun Wukong was when he had lost his memory… she would like to see that side of him more.

It takes them time to get past their rocky start (these two can never just start off liking each other smh), but in time, Dove starts to see more of that side she'd seen during Amnesia Rules. And she starts to fall for him all over again. He tells her about her past life, their time together on the journey, all of it. He admits how he robbed her of immortality… and how she tricked him into wearing the circlet. Their ups and their downs, he tells her everything. By the time season 5 rolls around, they're happy together. He's even offered her an immortal peach from the tree he's grown on FFM, so that he can finally make up for the mistake he made all those years ago.

Then… Li Jing puts the circlet on Wukong, again.

The moment Dove finds out, she's furious. How could they hurt him like that again?! Wukong tries to put her mind at ease, but it takes a lot to calm her down. "It's fine, Dove… I was honestly pretty disappointed. He put it on and just left, at least you were creative about it back in the day." That night, in the back of Sandy's van, Dove is littering his head in kisses, she can hardly imagine how painful it must feel. You best believe the moment they see Li Jing chasing them, she's aiming whatever she can find straight for his head. If he thinks he can induce some magic migraine on her man like that, she'll find a way to pay back the favour, tenfold. Nobody touches her Sun Wukong but her.