#a poem about embracing the future

[revryanfrench-blog]

In Jesus' Name - A Poem

I’ll always be a poser. A loser at heart. The inside is broken. The outside’s a frame. I do it all in Jesus’ name. Fame brings no fortune. And fortune, no fame. The elements twisting. Aligning the game. Run for the hills in Jesus’ name. I’ve always been homeless. A wandering soul. Jealous of nothing. Yet wanting it all. Find contentment in Jesus’ name. Peace brings no freedom. And freedom, no…

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#a Christian poem #a poem about about contentment #a poem about doing everything in Jesus&039; name #a poem about embracing the future #a poem about learning to be content #a poem about letting go of the past #a poem about the coming of the Lord #a poem about the danger of jealousy #A poem about the masks we wear #a poem about the rapture #a poem about the trumpet sounding

[ioveartfilm]

BEYOND THE GRAVE

Summary When he first dreamed about you, Satoru knew deep down you must be wandering somewhere in the world out of his reach. However, he never thought you were lying six feet underground.

Genre Romance, Drama, Historical, Thriller.

Additional Content Mature Content, Dark Themes, Murder, One Shot, Victorian Era.

Pairing Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader

Playlist ┊ Masterlist

Author’s Note Here’s the corpse bride AU fic I promised, enjoy!!

Satoru’s hand moved effortlessly while sketching the figure of a woman that rested in his mind. Capturing every detail of hers. Being a presence he had portrayed on countless occasions. Her features linger vividly in his memories, using her as a subject to relieve his turmoils. As his gaze remains, his lingering desires do too. A yearning for her to come to life. How does a woman attain such resplendent beauty and by what mystic grace did her presence weave its way into his thoughts? His wish for her to enlighten him about her purposes, passions, and dreams persisted. Eager to learn how she landed into his deepest dreams. Why his? His nonchalant mind of his, with no creativity whatsoever.

All his drawings are composed of her presence along with the illustrations of Morpho menelaus, species of the subfamily Morphinae. A striking butterfly species with a resplendent blue that brightens through the night with its vibrant colors. The beautiful butterflies that grace his window daily, he’s lucky to witness. Satoru was the age of eighteen when he first encountered her in his dreams. He remembers the moment vividly. For an inexplicable reason, she was dressed in bridal attire, highlighting her gorgeous collarbone while gracefully embracing her form, complemented by dainty ivory gloves. A bride. Perhaps someone else’s bride. He can’t tell why that thought pains him.

“This boy, engaging in artistic endeavors like a fool.” His mother entered his chamber with an air suffused with disapprobation. “Desist from your current occupation and prepare yourself. We cannot afford to be tardy!”

Oh, that's right. He's going to finally meet his fiance today.

“Ah, my beautiful and only son. Possessing a visage of such resplendence yet lingering in an unmarried state. What an anguish! It is our poverty that people look down on us. But again, If your father haven’t went bankrupt, we wouldn’t be in this situation! Now I’m stuck with a son that wastes his days, selling books, sketching nonsense and recite poems to no one.” Throughout the entirety of their carriage ride to their destination, his mother lamented their circumstances. Regrettably, his family lacks the riches to sustain themselves after his father’s death. However, his forthcoming matrimonial alliance holds the promise of a brighter future. “Now we find ourselves lucky! The Winchester Family finally grant us a chance!”

“Mother,” Satoru called with a furrow forming on his brow. "Shouldn't Miss Winchester be marrying a Lord instead of a common man like me?" He expressed his concerns, his words tinged with uncertainty. “Don't you find it a little odd?” Is he the only who find it suspicious about The Winchester family sudden interest in them?

His mother scowled, using her fan to deliver a smack to her son’s head. “Quiet boy! Don’t pry, and be grateful for what you have.” Satoru exhaled deeply at his mother’s words, sinking back into his seat as a whirlwind of thoughts spun through his mind, there’s no use talking to his mother about this matter. He may as well let it be.

“Adelaide, I implore you to ensure our son enters into wedlock for love, not merely for monetary gain. Guide him onto the right path.”

“Oh, Octavius don’t be ridiculous! Our son’s survival is paramount. Love alone cannot sustain him; it is a whimsical fantasy.”

Satoru recalled the moment he overheard his father’s dying wish for him. Octavius had fervently wished for his son to pursue love in marriage, unencumbered by material considerations. However, Henrietta held a contrary belief. Satoru lacks personal experience with romantic affection, so he cannot voice an opinion on that matter. Opting for a marriage driven by financial considerations is the most pragmatic choice for him at present. His artistic talents and poetic inclinations offered little sustenance for his practical needs. Resigning himself he now embraces the predetermined path laid out before him.

“Pay heed,” His mother's voice resounded with a sense of urgency, her eyes drilling into Satoru with a steely resolve. “Do your utmost to appease them. Whatever you do, do not falter! This is our last opportunity to escape the perpetual hardship we face daily. We cannot afford to let this chance slip through our grasp, do you comprehend?”

“Mother you expect too much from me. I haven't even spoken to Miss Winchester before, how will I know how to please her?”

“Ah, nonsense! Women aren't as complicated as you make them out to be. Just prioritize making a favorable impression on Mr. and Mrs. Winchester.”

Mr. and Mrs. Winchester proved to be not only reserved but rather, intimidating. Satoru stood still in the middle of the room with their discerning gazes lingering on him, scrutinizing every aspect of his presence, leaving him with a growing sense of discomfort. Mrs. Winchester emitted a satisfied hum as she began to circle his form treating him like an exhibit with her head held high.

“You possess striking height and distinctive features: white hair and blue eyes. Yes, these are splendid attributes for our future grandchildren,” Mrs. Winchester commented in a stern tone. “Yet, physical appearance alone is not what we seek. We seek discipline and determination above all else, a husband who is committed to providing for his family. Do you believe you possess such traits, Mr. Gojo?”

Satoru stood proudly, suppressing any doubts that lingered within him, meeting Mrs. Winchester’s gaze with composure. “Yes, ma’am. I assure you that I possess the qualities you seek. I am committed to meeting your expectations.”

The room descended into a profound silence as their eyes locked, seemingly exchanging unspoken words. Mrs. Winchester arched an eyebrow before nodding in approval. “Good. That’s precisely the response I was hoping for. Come along, let us delve deeper into our discussion over a cup of tea.”

As Mrs. Winchester led the way deeper into their sprawling mansion, Satoru’s attention was ensnared by the sight of a magnificent piano, standing behind until the voices of his mother, Mr. and Mrs. Winchester gradually faded away. His eyes were drawn to the instrument, finding himself seated on the bench, his gaze fixated on the keys as memories flooded his mind. He recalled the days of his youth, witnessing his father play with awe and admiration. While Satoru could play the piano, he knew he could never quite replicate his father’s talent. As he sat there before the instrument, memories of his father’s music enveloped him, stirring both nostalgia and longing in his heart. Oh, how he missed the irreplaceable bond they shared through the language of music. One evening, Octavius found young Satoru ensconced in the solitude of the gardens with tears cascading down his cheeks, as he grappled with the weight of his mother’s perceived disappointment in him. Unable to further witness his son’s anguish, Octavius led him to his musical sanctuary where he sat at the grand piano. He began to play with ease a melody he composed with each note a testament to the depth of his love for his son.

“You are kind, strong, and brave.” Octavius spoke with words of reassurance and wisdom. “Allow yourself to feel and express your emotions freely. It does not diminish your worth as a man.”

For years, Satoru devoted himself to the pursuit of replicating the melody his father once played. His fingers dancing upon the keys of the piano with practiced ease. As he closed his eyes, he surrendered himself to the echoes of the past in a bittersweet embrace.

“Mr. Gojo?” The sudden intrusion of feminine voice brought Satoru’s performance to an abrupt halt, his fingers freezing upon the keys as he turned to behold the unexpected visitor. Before him, a radiant apparition graced his sight—a maiden in the prime of her twenties, adorned with cascades of chestnut tresses and eyes of a rich, earthly hue. Her figure was adorned in a breathtaking violet gown along with a delicate necklace gracing her necklace adding a touch of refinement. Satoru then began to distancing himself from the instrument, standing before her. Is she really the woman he must marry? She’s absolutely gorgeous.

“Forgive me.” He speaks flickering his gaze between the woman in front of him and the piano, feeling slightly unease under her curious gaze. “I’ve used your piano without proper permission.”

She emitted a soft chuckle and shook her head with a serene smile. “That’s quite alright. Hardly anyone ever uses it anyway.”

“Really? Such beauty should be cherished and appreciated, not left idle.”

“I agree. Lamentably, my mother holds the belief that a lady like myself should not indulge in musical pursuits.”

"How so?" Satoru couldn't help but inquire.

"My mother believes playing the piano isn't suitable for a lady," Catherine explained with a hint of resignation, "and insists that I redirect my focus towards more socially acceptable pursuits."

"That's a shame," Satoru stated sympathetically.

"It truly is."

Now as both moved to be seated by side together at the piano bench, she cast a wistful smile in Satoru’s direction before speaking with a longing voice. “I’ve always imagined my wedding would be with someone I truly love.” She confessed. “Perhaps it’s an unrealistic wish, don’t you think? Nobody marry for love nowadays.”

“Yes, it is.” Satoru agrees immediately unaware he may have been a little blunt. “I mean! No, of course not. If it’s a dream you hold dearly, do not let go of it so easily.” Even though his hopes of marrying for love have dimmed, it doesn’t mean her hopes have to be.

She hums to herself with her gaze lowered. “I’ve matured and I have learned down the way I shouldn’t be swayed by a little girl’s dreams.” She then lifts up her eyes to meet Satoru’s. “However, that doesn’t mean we should treat each other as strangers. We will soon be husband and wife, the least we can do is treat each with familiarity.”

Satoru let out a relieved sigh upon hearing her words, feeling like he could breathe again. Yes, that’s something he needed to heard. “I will be pleased to do that, I’m not quite fond of formalities. Please reference me as Satoru from now on.”

“Satoru.” She pronounced his name like it was the sweetest flavor her tongue had encountered. “Call me, Catherine.”

“Catherine,” Satoru said with a warm smile, “perhaps after we are wed, I could impart upon you the art of playing the piano.”

“You will?” Catherine inquired, her eyes brightening with anticipation. “Will you teach me the previously melody you were playing?”

“Absolutely,” Satoru responded with a firm conviction agreeing immediately at her request, his demeanor exuding confidence as he reached out to intertwine his fingers with Catherine's, while their eyes locked into each other. Meanwhile, Catherine can’t hold that long her gaze feeling flustered under his clear eyes.

“What impropriety is this?” Mrs. Winchester's voice shattered the moment they shared, causing Satoru and Catherine to hastily pull away from each other. “You two cannot be seen alone before the wedding! I trust you are aware of that, Mr. Gojo.” Mrs. Winchester asserted, her tone carrying a hint of admonition as she reminded them of the proprieties expected before their impending nuptials.

Satoru rose from the bench, executing a polite bow as a gesture of contrition. “My apologies, Mrs. Winchester. It was imprudent of me.”

“I have taken a liking to you, Mr. Gojo. It would be disheartening to be disappointed so soon. Now, there's a few minutes before rehearsal. The priest will arrive soon, so come along, and let’s not waste any more time!”

It's only a few vows, Satoru thought to himself. He had recited numerous poems before; surely, this wouldn't be too challenging. Oh, but it was. Satoru realized with a sinking feeling in his chest. Despite his earlier confidence, the weight of the momentous occasion bore down on him, making the simple act of reciting vows feel daunting.

“Rehearsal in ruins as Mr. Gojo causes chaos!Wedding rumored to be delayed.” Bloody hell—

Satoru's frustration escaped in an audible groan, as the news of the disastrous rehearsal spread throughout the town, amplifying his embarrassment. Can his day get any worse? Now everyone knows what happened at the rehearsal pointing him like a fool. Wait.

Catherine. Oh, Catherine.

She may not want to hear from him after this. He could potentially be labeled as the worst groom in history. Perhaps he wasn't cut out for marriage after all. They were only simple vows—what had gotten into him today? It was completely out of his character! The words may have seemed clear in his thoughts, but as he spoke them aloud, they twisted and faltered, a stark contrast to the eloquence he had imagined.

“With this hand, I shall partake of your elixir.” No, that's not it. Think again.

How about, “With this hand, I shall elevate your candle.” Goodness, no that's not the correct sentence! Think again!

“Come now, Satoru,” he thought, "take a deep breath and orchestrate those vows into their rightful sequence. Do not be disheartened by mere vows. You wish to marry Catherine, do you not?” He does. He may not be initially in love with Catherine taking the fact he barely knows her. Though, that doesn’t mean he can’t learn how to. If you ask him, he’s a fast learner.

“With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows,” Satoru recited, his voice steady as he embraced the weight of his commitment. He raised his ring, pledging to alleviate Catherine's burdens and share in her joys. He strides further into the depths of the dim forest he had fled, his voice a steady cadence amid the eerie silence as he continues to recite his vows with unwavering determination.

“Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be your wine. With this candle, I shall illuminate your passage through the abyss. And with this ring, I beseech you to be mine.” With his vows flowing smoothly from his lips, Satoru breathed a sigh of relief, a satisfied smile adorning his face. Proud of his accomplishment in regaining his confidence, he stood poised and ready to embark on his homeward journey.

“Catherine,” he ruminated, a fervent resolve kindling within him, “I stand ready to entreat you to become mine.” Catherine after all, deserves the best. He pledges to himself he will be the best version of himself so he can make Catherine happy. That’s the least he can do as her future husband. If the wedding is still up, of course. What’s he gonna say once goes back? “I’m sorry I ruined away in the middle of rehearsal like an idiot?” Oh, no. What’s Mr. and Mrs. Winchester gonna think of him now? Everything felt so suffocating! But, can you really blame him? It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against him today.

The sudden cessation of the breeze arrested Satoru's steps, preventing him from moving further. However, that was not the only oddity that caught Satoru's attention. The wind picked up, its mournful wail creating a chilling symphony in the air. Simultaneously, the ground beneath him trembled. A sense of uneasiness crept into Satoru's heart. Feeling a shiver run down his spine, sensing the increasing tension in the forest. He made the choice to turn back before it was too late.

“I do.”

The sudden dulcet tones of a feminine voice brought Satoru to an abrupt halt. In that suspended interval, the passage of time seemed to yield to the captivating allure of the unknown speaker, prompting Satoru to turn with cautious deliberation, his senses keenly attuned to the mysterious presence that had disrupted the tranquil solitude of the forest. His gaze widened in astonishment at the vision of a woman adorned in bridal regalia, her face obscured by a flowing veil. Yet, upon closer inspection, he noted the disarray of her attire, with torn fabric and absent embellishments. What calamity had befallen this woman? Despite her initial distance, a sense of trepidation gripped Satoru as she drew nearer, prompting an instinctive step backward.

“Who are you? Do not approach further!” However, the woman paid no heed to his warning and continued to advance. Feeling a surge of panic, Satoru turned on his heels and bolted out of the forest, his heart pounding in his chest as he raced to escape whatever ominous presence lurked behind him. Was it his imagination? Was he really going paranoid? He must be! He sprinted tirelessly until his feet throbbed returning to the bridge he originally was before delving into the forest. After his run, he paused to catch his breath, his hand resting on his chest as he briefly looked back at the cityscape before him. What was that all about? Perhaps his mind is playing tricks on him due to the stress he’s enduring. Yes, that’s it. There’s no other explanation. When he turned to peer back at the forest, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest when his eyes met the sight of the previous woman standing perilously close eliciting a startled reaction that drove him to instinctively press his back against the stone walls of the bridge in a state of bewilderment. However, as soon as her fingers started to reveal her face, time itself stopped for him.

Satoru could only manage to stammer, "You—" No it cannot be. “This…this isn’t possible!” He muttered incredulously at the sight before him. Before him stood the woman he had been sketching since he turned eighteen. As she was close, he could now have a better approach to her appearance. Noticing how the bridal attire was even torn apart, patches of her skin missing on her arms and ankles, revealed exposed bones. Resembling…someone who may be dead. How is this possible? How can a dead person be walking among the living!

“I know you.” Despite her ghastly appearance, he was certain of her identity. He knew her face. How can he not? She has been all he ever draws. What happened to her? He always thought that the woman in his dreams was wandering on the world out of his reach, however, he never thought his ideal woman was lying six feet underground beneath him. A Corpse!

“Yes, it’s me!” She spoke as if she knew him, but how could that be? They never had actually met before at least not in real life—she existed only within the realm of his dreams.

“I have dreamed this day to come. At last, you've found the courage to seek my hand in marriage.” She whispered with a yearning evident in her tone, her words echoing in his troubled mind. She then approached him and cornered him with no room to evacuate. She raised her bony hands clad in tattered gloves which had lost their pure white, as she tenderly placed them upon his cold face. Everything felt surreal to him, as though he were ensnared in a waking dream. She was the last image etched into his consciousness before slipping into oblivion.

“Mother, do you have any news of Satoru?” Catherine inquired, her voice trembling with worry as she spoke with her mother. It's late, she’s afraid Satoru may not come back after he left the rehearsal without looking back. Where could he be? Leaving Catherine filled with concern for his well-being. Perhaps, he had second thoughts?

His mother huffed in response, turning to sink into the furniture facing the fireplace. “No, nothing at all.” She replied. “I should have known that boy would only bring disappointment.”

“I couldn’t agree more. It’s utterly baffling that he doesn’t even know his wedding vows. What kind of man is he?” His father agreed, echoing her mother’s sentiments. “But given the inheritance from Octavius Gojo, he’s the best option available for us. We’ll simply have to endure his foolishness until tomorrow morning. If he bothers to return.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Catherine interjected puzzled. “what inheritance are you referring to?”

Her father shook his head irritated, avoiding his daughter's confused gaze. “Why do you think we arranged your marriage to that fool? Octavius Gojo before his passing, rumors were circulating about him selling his prosperous business and leaving the proceeds to his family.”

Before Catherine can respond to his father, the conversation comes to an abrupt halt as Mrs. Gojo enters the living room, her carriage having returned from a frantic search for her son throughout the city. “I’m deeply embarrassed by my son’s inappropriate behavior. Please accept my sincere apologies on his behalf. Unfortunately, I was unable to find him.”

Mrs. Winchester hummed, motioning for Mrs. Gojo to join them. As they settled in, a tense atmosphere waiting enveloped them all, as they awaited any sign of Satoru’s whereabouts. Suddenly, a servant entered the room to deliver his message to his masters.

“Pardon the interruption, but a guest has arrived.” Mrs. Winchester exhaled deeply upon hearing the following words, expecting news of Mr. Gojo. She can only sigh and nod. “By all means, show them in.” She instructed her servant to lead the guest into the room. As soon the unexpected guest made its entrance, Mrs. Winchester’s eyes brightened immediately with recognition as she beheld the guest.

“Ah, Mr. Zenin. What a delightful surprise.” She says with genuine pleasure. “What brings you to our home?”

He nodded, a smile playing on his lips as he addressed them all with a warm greeting. “I’ve come to visit and check on how things are for the Winchester Family, especially after the news spread about your daughter’s groom fleeing. Which was a surprise to me. Never heard of a fleeing groom before, not during rehearsal at least.”

Mrs. Winchester gestured to a servant to bring a cup of tea as Mr. Zenin joined them. “Yes, it was quite unexpected. I’m grateful for your concerns.”

As they speak over a cup of tea, Mrs. Winchester’s gaze fits towards Mrs. Gojo, observing her attempt to discern Mr. Zenin’s identity. “My apologies.” She interjected. “Allow me to make proper introductions. Mr. Zenin, may I present Mrs. Adelaide Gojo, the estimated mother of the groom. And Mrs. Gojo, it is my pleasure to introduce Mr. Naoya Zenin, a confidant of our family. His father used to be a business associate of my husband before his departure abroad.”

Mr. Zenin nodded from his seat, offering a congenial smile. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Gojo.”

However, Mrs. Gojo remained composed, her expression unwavering. “Likewise.”

“Please excuse my inquisitiveness, but your surname strikes me as oddly familiar.”

“Is that so?” Adelaide replied. “It was my late husband’s name.”

“Ah, please accept my heartfelt condolences.” He responded with sympathy. I never meant to pry.”

“It’s quite alright,” Adelaide said, brushing off his concerns with a wave of her hand.

“I’ve had the misfortune of experiencing grief firsthand as yourself,” Mr. Zenin confessed, sorrow lacing in his words. “Not long ago, I had a fiancée whom I deeply cherished before she was tragically murdered.”

“Oh, my! That’s terrible.” She expresses with a sudden change in her demeanor.

“Yes, it was a devastating ordeal.” Mr. Zenin replied with a heavy heart. “However, learning to move on is a necessary part of life.”

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, punctuated only by the crackling of the fireplace, Mr. Zenin cleared his throat and began to speak again sitting up straighter. “Catherine, my dear. I neglected to inquire about your well-being. You must be experiencing a great deal of stress not knowing the whereabouts of your fiancé.”

Standing still where she was, Catherine lowered her gaze nodding in acknowledgment. “Yes, I can’t deny that I’m worried.” She admitted softly.

Mr. Zenin nodded gravely at Catherine’s words before speaking earnestly as he glanced back at them at once. “I’m not one to indulge in gossip, but before I came here, I overheard words of a gentleman seen near the woods, accompanied by another woman. I must tell you this before you hear it from someone else. Perhaps I am wrong, let me ask does the groom possess white hair, towering height, and striking blue eyes?”

“That’s my son! Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. My son doesn’t know other women. How can that be possible?”

“What!” Mrs. Winchester exclaimed with indignation in her voice, rising abruptly from her seat. “In the arms of another woman?”

“Satoru? No, it cannot be him.” Catherine muttered distressed.

“Mr. Zenin, are you certain about this?” Mrs. Winchester questioned anxiously. “We cannot allow this information to spread any further. The potential humiliation it could bring upon us is unthinkable!”

Standing up from his seat, Mr. Zenin nodded resolutely, certain of what he had heard. “I trust in the accuracy of what I’ve heard. Pardon me for burdening you with such troubling news,” He conveyed with sincerity. He made his way towards the door, glancing back at their uneasy faces. “I believe it’s time for me to take my leave. However, please remember, that I’m always available to lend a helping hand if needed. My assistance is unconditional.” He reassured them before closing the door behind him.

As Mr. Zenin bid his farewell, Mrs. Winchester’s hand swept through her hair in a gesture of exasperation, her mind grappling with the weight of the situation. “What steps should we now undertake?” She queried her husband, momentarily disregarding Mrs. Gojo's continued presence in the room.

Mr. Winchester’s fingertips grazed his beard as he pondered the situation. “I believe we must call the wedding off.”

“Such preposterous allegations!” Mrs. Gojo exclaimed, her demeanor now imbued with a regal air of indignation. “Surely, Mr. Zenin has been misinformed. You’re aware of how dangerous gossip can be. My son is of impeccable character; he could never stoop to such levels of promiscuity. I beseech you, to grant me a chance at least until tomorrow, so I can unravel this egregious misunderstanding. I’m certain by that time, I will be able to find my son.”

“Very, well. You have until dawn.”

With eyes alight with admiration, you behold his features closely, relishing the sight of his. Unable to resist any longer, your fingertips rested on his skin exploring the contours of his face. A smile adorning your smiles as you bask in the tranquility of the moment. Finally, he's in your arms after so long.

“What do we have here? A mere trinket for idle amusement?” A derisive voice interjects, disrupting your thoughts and your tender exploration.

With a heavy sigh, you stand to face your skeletal friend. “He is not an object for amusement. I would appreciate it if you refrain from treating him such.” He chuckles in response as he joins you by your side, and together, you cast a glance at the sleeping form of the man resting upon the furniture made of bones.

“Right. Pardon me for insulting your boyfriend over here.”

“He is not my boyfriend; he’s my husband.” You assert, shooting your friend a sharp glare. “Well, my future husband. He asked for my hand in marriage. Where are the others? I want to announce the news of our engagement as soon as possible.”

“What’s the rush, dear? Your fiancé seemed to be passed out. And by the looks of it, he may not be waking up soon.”

You scoffed in annoyance, your frustration evident in the curl of your lip. “Don’t you have anything else to do? Instead of being annoying around me.”

“Love, I’m merely just looking out for you. What business do you have with a living person?”

“I already informed you. He asked for my hand—”

“Yes. But do you truly believe he means it?”

"I'm not sure what you're implying." You replied skeptical.

Your skeletal friend shakes his skull, the hollow cavities where his eyes once were fixed on you. “I only want you to understand the magnitude of your actions. He may not mean those words, not to you at least.” He advises you with a solemn tone.

“That’s nonsense.” You retort. “I was the only one in the forest when he took vows, naturally those words were directed at me.”

“For two years,” you expound, delving into the intricacies of your relationship and the reasons behind your actions, “Satoru has been my steadfast companion. Since my departure, he has frequented these woods, pouring forth his dreams and aspirations. I've tried to connect with him through his dreams, and I'm certain he feels the same way. Now, here's the ring as a testament to our bond.” You announce, lifting your bony hand to showcase the shiny band nestled upon your finger.

“(Y/N)—”

The room fell into a reverent stillness, pierced only by the plaintive groan from the unconscious man who was now struggling to regain consciousness. You rush to his side, lowering yourself to kneel beside his prone form. “Darling, are you awake?” You observe intently as his eyes flutter, revealing his clear eyes clouded with an unfocused vision.

“It’s okay, just stay still. I’m here.”

As his vision clears and meets your gaze, you witness the shift in his countenance, from one of composure to one consumed by dread. In a rash impulse, he jolts upright, drawing in sharp breaths. His eyes are wild with fear as he scans his surroundings. When you try to reach out to comfort him, he recoils abruptly.

“Where in the world am I?” He exclaimed alarmed.

Before you can utter a word, the sound of approaching footsteps interrupts, accompanied by the rhythmic chants signaling the arrival of a new visitor.

“A new arrival!”

“Fascinating, his skin looks freshly new!”

“He doesn’t look dead at all.”

“Oh! can I feel his skin?”

In a state of utter disbelief, Satoru beheld the eerie scene unfolding before him. The deceased, mingling and conversing as though they were living beings, circling around him like an object for amusement. Has he finally gone insane?

“(Y/N), darling. Who’s this one with you? Why don’t you present him to us?”

You nod, rising to your feet, proudly displaying your ring adoring your finger to the gathered crowd. “Everyone, I am honored to introduce you all to my fiancé and soon-to-be husband, Satoru.”

What! Satoru thought alarmed as he went to your side, taking your hand in his to inspect the ring with his own eyes. To his astonishment, there it was—the ring he was supposed to give to Catherine. What has he done!

“What a lovely couple, I wish for both of you endless happiness!” From admits the crowd, someone with their skeletal hands clapped.

“Thank you, Lady Brown.” You acknowledged with a smile, withdrawing your hand from Satoru’s grasp, leaving him staring at empty air. “You all should have seen him reciting his vows. It was the epitome of romance! It took my breathe away! Well, if I had any.” You chuckled.

“With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows.” With a dreamy smile playing on your lips, you remark Satoru’s vows, each word spoken with heartfelt emotion. “Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be your wine. With this candle, I shall illuminate your passage through the abyss. And with this ring, I beseech you to be mine.” With eyes brimming with love, you regard the ring before you, your well, where your heart once swelled with unbridled joy, infusing every fiber of your being with an overwhelming sense of contentment. “Aren’t I the luckiest bride?”

“Wait!” Satoru’s voice interjected, cutting through the air like a blade. “Surely, this must be a misunderstanding,” he proclaimed. “Where am I? Is this the afterlife? What’s going on here?” Finally, his eyes met yours, and a flicker of uncertainty danced in his gaze as he inquired. “Who are you?”

You emit a soft laugh, as you approach him to close the distance between you two. Sensing his cautious retreat, you reassure him. “Love, it’s me. I understand that my appearance may not be what you expected, though I’m the same woman as I was in your dreams for two years.”

"But, in the realm of my dreams," he began, his gaze lingering on your figure, still maintaining his distance from everyone. "you appeared alive. What…What happened to you?”

You offered a rueful smile. “Well, it’s kind of a long story.”

She was a beacon of vitality, an intelligent young woman hailing from a respected and affluent family. Endowed with a myriad of talents, she possessed the ability to effortlessly weave melodies from various instruments and to navigate the intricacies of literature with finesse. Despite the throng of suitors vying for her favor, her heart gravitated towards a man of modest means, yet her parents weren't in favor of their scandalous relationship. Undeterred by their disapproval and driven by an insatiable thirst for freedom, she conspired with her beloved to elope, to meet beneath the cloak of night in the depths of the forest. Carrying her mother's nuptial attire, family heirlooms, and a trove of gold. Beneath the sprawling branches of the ancient oak tree, she awaited her lover's arrival, her spirit buoyed by the promise of freedom. Yet, fate dealt a cruel blow, veiling her world in darkness as a cold blade pierced her chest, Her precious jewels vanished, and so did the very essence of her being—her heart. Resigned to an eternity of solitude beneath the tree where her life was brutally stolen, she languished in desolation, believing love to be a distant memory. Yet, against all odds, her world turned for the better with the arrival of a gentleman with a white locks like the snow and eyes as clear as the blue sky. In his presence, she found comfort and companionship, her days enlivened by his constant presence. Now, he stands here after he professes an unwavering devotion, her once-forgotten heart fluttering with newfound hope.

Everything became overwhelming to grasp as their words echoed relentlessly within his mind. Proposing to a dead bride was a scenario he never could have fathomed. With a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he seized the fleeting chance to escape this strange world of the deceased in hopes of finding his way back to the land of the living.

Or that's what he hoped for. Somehow you managed to find him easily. Now he sat there on a weathered old bench while the deceased bride droned on about the beautiful view before them. From your spot beside Satoru, you stole a glance back at him and noticed his vacant stare. Clearing your throat, you offered an apology, “I'm sorry if I've been going on too much. I tend to do that when I am overexcited.”

Satoru snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of your melodic laughter. He sat there, observing your features, marveling at how, even in death, you still exuded a radiant beauty, the same beauty from the dreams he had of you.

“I want you to know how deeply sorry I am for what happened to you. However, I really need to head home now.”

“What do you mean? This your home now!”

Satoru sighed heavily, closing his eyes briefly before he met your gaze. “I don’t even know your name.”

You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before responding with a smile. “It’s, (Y/N).”

(Y/N).

“Now. I believe I’ve been talking too much. I will like to get to know my soon-to-be husband better!”

Satoru couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at your enthusiasm, avoiding your gaze as he glanced down at his joined hands. “Well, there isn’t much about me. You know some of it—how I used to retreat into the woodland to sketch, seeking solace in the verdant embrace of the forest.” He paused mid—sentence, stealing a fleeting glance at you before once more evading your eyes. “I never thought you were there all along.”

“What about your family?” You asked, curiosity piqued.

Ah, his family. Before he realized he started talking with ease. “I used to live with my mother and father, being the only child. But when I was seventeen, my father passed away,” he says, his voice carrying a weight of melancholy. “Don’t get me wrong, I hold a deep appreciation for my mother. But, the connection I had with my father was unmatched. While my mother often had expectations of me, my father always urged me to heed my own intuition, to follow the path that felt right to me.”

As he trailed off, your heart went out to him with sympathy. You lifted a hand as if to offer comfort, but quickly retracted it, mindful not to impose any pressure on him. “He sounded like a good man.” You whispered.

“He was indeed, one of a kind.”

Both of you sat in silence until a sudden idea struck you. You turned to meet his gaze directly and suggested. “I just had an idea! Tell me his name. Perhaps we can track him down together!”

Ah, yes. He had momentarily forgotten for a moment he was now in the realm of the departed, and his father was dead.

“Octavius Gojo.” He replied.

Your eyes widened in recognition upon hearing the mention of the familiar name. “Octavius Gojo, is your father?”

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

You gasped with exhilaration, clasping his hands in yours. “Of course. How could I not have realized sooner? You both are so alike! I had the pleasure of knowing Octavius when I was alive. He was truly the finest man I ever knew.”

“How…how did you come to know my father?”

With a wide smile, you released his hand to settle down your hands on your lap. “As you were told, I was born into a wealthy family with high expectations placed upon me. When I was thirteen, my parents sought the finest piano tutor for me, and fate led me to Octavius. From the outset, our bond transcended the typical teacher—student relationship. Octavius became a friend of mine, sharing countless stories with me. One day, he told me he had a son who shared a passion for music like myself, expressing a desire for us to meet. Unfortunately, we never got to do that as circumstances forced us to part ways. As I reached a marriageable age, Octavius faced daily challenges within his company. I was devastated to learn of his passing through the grapevine, never having the chance to bid him farewell. However, I died one year later after his passing so our paths aligned again. Now, I find myself engaged to his son!”

Satoru was rendered speechless upon learning this new revelation, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of emotions. Who would have thought, he was supposed to meet you ages ago? Thinking if he did, perhaps you would still be alive instead of falling into the wrong hands who led you to your demise. However, there’s time to think about the past and his accidental engagement with you later. Right now, he must see his father. Driven by a sudden wave of determination, Satoru firmly grasped your hand and rose from the bench. “Lead me to my father.”

“What’s our plan?” Mrs. Winchester as she paced the living room while conversing with her husband. “That boy still hasn’t returned. We can’t cancel the wedding; are you aware of the financial repercussions? We’ll be left penniless, thrown on the streets without that inheritance! And don’t get me started with Mrs. Gojo. She hasn’t even bothered to come back.”

As her husband remained silent, Mrs. Winchester’s frustration boiled over. “Say something!”

“Don’t pressure me, woman!” Her husband interjected firmly from his seat, his eyelid twitching slightly with suppressed agitation. “We will figure something out.”

“We don’t have time to figure something out! Where will we find another groom for our daughter in such short time?”

“It is lamentable for that young man to disregard dear Catherine in such a manner; it is an act that cannot be forgiven.” Mr. Zenin's refined voice interjected into their dialogue taking them out of surprise. “Please forgive my intrusion; one of your servants granted me entry. I couldn't help but overhear the woeful plight of poor Catherine, who has to endure because of the cowardice of Mr. Gojo. I have made attempts to locate him, yet regrettably, he remains elusive. It is conceivable that he has left town.”

“Oh no—”

“Nevertheless, as a longstanding acquaintance, I stand ready to assume the role vacated by Mr. Gojo, to spare Catherine from any further public humiliation,” Mr. Zenin declared. “Moreover, I am willing to extend a respectable proposal, one far superior to what the Gojo family could offer.”

“Your willingness to undertake such a responsibility is truly admirable, Mr. Zenin, but—”

“Will your father agree with your choice?” Mr. Winchester questioned.

“My father has always had faith in my judgment, trusting that I make decisions for the best. I believe he would be pleased if I had the opportunity to unite with the daughter of his trusted confidant.”

Mr. and Mrs. Winchester exchanged glances, a silent agreement made between them.

“Very well, then. Let us waste no time and proceed with the preparations.” Mr. Winchester declared decisively.

“Mother, father, who are you talking to?” Catherine's voice echoed as she descended the stairs, her dress trailing behind her in anticipation of news about Satoru. To her surprise, she found her parents and Mr. Zenin waiting for her.

“Darling, there's good news—there will be a wedding after all.” Mrs. Winchester announced.

“Really? You found Satoru?” Catherine asked eagerly, her hopes rising.

Suddenly Mr. Zenin stepped forward, and took Catherine's hand in his, pressing a kiss to its back. “I will be your spouse, Miss Catherine. I won't allow that Satoru boy to humiliate you any further.” he declared with a disconcerting smile that sent a chill down Catherine's spine.

“What?” she thought, her mind reeling in disbelief. “No, this cannot be happening. How could I possibly marry him?”

“I shall return tomorrow morning, please excuse me.” Mr. Zenin declared, as he bid farewell to the family.

Catherine immediately rushed to her parents after his leave, “Father, Mother, please don't make me marry him.” She pleaded earnestly.

“Silly girl, it's our only recourse.” Mrs. Winchester asserted sternly. “Or do you wish to witness your parents succumb to impoverishment? We can no longer wait for Satoru Gojo who has absconded from his obligations to this family. We must face reality. It was our mistake to pin our hopes on that family when we had a more suitable candidate for you all along. Mr. Zenin will undoubtedly make a fine husband his affluence ensuring our security.”

Catherine stood there, her words caught in her throat, realizing her fate had been sealed, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

“Take a good rest child, you will be marrying Mr. Zenin tomorrow morning. And that’s final!”

Is this really happening? Is he truly going to reunite with his deceased father after three years? Satoru pondered, feeling the relentless thud of his heart against his chest.

“He's typically lingering nearby, indulging in those rotten apples from the market,” you remarked with a gentle chuckle, reminiscing about Octavius's eating preferences. “Personally, I find the cherries to be far superior.” Satoru dismissed your words as you began to trail off, not bothering to pay full attention to you and your stories, his focus fixed on finding his father. Impatiently, he stopped his walking, retracting his hand as he shot you a glare full of annoyance. “Could you please take me where my father is? I don’t have time for idle chatter. We have been walking for a while, do you really know where he is?.” Taking in his words, your expression faltered before you quickly composed yourself with a nod. It was understandable, you thought. He hasn’t seen his father for three years. You’re his wife, and a good wife is patient and understanding even if sometimes your husband’s words may be hurtful.

“Of course, my apologies for the distraction. I completely forgotten why are we here.” Satoru realized he had been too harsh on you, and before he could apologize to you, you walked ahead of him prompting him to follow.

“What are you standing there for? Come along.”

After what felt like ages, you both came to a halt in front of a grand old library, as a rush of memories flooded Satoru’s mind. He remembered when he was younger after his lessons hours, his father would take him to buy books, nurturing his love for reading. His father harbored a deep desire for a library, along with the wish to immerse himself in the world of music. However, the demand of his job with his loan company has kept him chained to endless hours of work, until the company eventually went bankrupt. His mother claimed that his father was solely responsible for the mismanagement of his prosperous company, but Satoru thinks otherwise. He knew his father was well capable of the job. He knew his father to be intelligent and persuasive, qualities that didn’t align with the image of someone who would neglect his own company. Satoru had long suspected that something was behind his father’s bankruptcy. However, he didn’t have time to test his theories.

You stepped forward towards the door, turning to Satoru as you spoke. “Wait here. I’ll check if he’s inside.” before disappearing into the library. All Satoru could do now was wait anxiously outside the library.

As you ventured further into the library, darkness shrouded your surroundings, with only the feeble glow of the moon casting a faint illumination, making it challenging to discern your way through the dimly lit space. “Hello, is anyone here?” You called while searching for a match and a candle to provide you light. You paused your search as a faint light from upstairs caught your attention. Gradually, the silhouette of an older man emerged from the shadows, until his full figure was revealed with his inseparable crow companion perched upon his shoulder. A sense of warmth flooded over you as you smiled widely at the sight of your longtime friend.

“Octavius.”

Upon hearing your voice, Octavius turned his light towards you, his lips curling into a smile mirroring yours with the exact amount of affection. “Darling. It’s been quite some time since we last met.” He says with genuine appreciation, missing the days both of you spent together talking endlessly. It’s been months since he last saw you, as you insisted on staying buried under your usual spot under the tree, patiently waiting for Satoru’s arrival every day.

“I couldn’t agree more!”

Octavius chuckled softly, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet confines of the library. “What brings you here today, dear? Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, no. That’s not the case. I’m not here to burden you with my matters—”

“(Y/N).” his voice interposed disrupting your train of words. “You know very well that’s not true. Do not hesitate to seek my counsel, for I shall forever be at your disposal.”

Exhaling softly, you nod in affirmation to his discourse before commencing to elucidate the motives behind your visit to Octavius. “It’s a long story to tell. However, there’s someone outside whom I must introduce you—someone eagerly awaiting to meet you.”

“Oh, who might this eager visitor be?” Octavius queried with intrigue.

“You will see.”

“(Y/N), you're well aware of my distaste for surprises. Despite the fact my heart has stopped beating, this old man can still experience the sensation of a heart-stopping moment.” he quipped with a playful lilt adopting the tone of a father scolding his daughter.

You laughed.

“You're quite the dramatist, Octavius. Some things never change.” you teased, turning to exit the library and let Satoru in at once. However, just before departing, you glanced back at Octavius. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Le Comte de Monte-Cristo. Splendid. It has secured a place among my most cherished literary treasures.”

“I told you, didn’t I? The book is sheer perfection. Experiencing the emotions of a wronged man through the book is an incomparable feeling.”

“Indeed. I couldn't help but empathize with Dante's plight. Having your planned life ahead of you only to be taken away from wicked men.” you replied, continuing your conversation with Octavius about the recently read book he recommended to you. Reflecting on the parallels between the book's narrative and your own experiences. Your voice trailed off, standing in a moment of silence before you began to speak once again meeting his gaze. “Remarkably familiar, wouldn't you agree?”

Octavius cast a glance back at you, his gaze softened, recalling the tragedy of your fate.

“Now, now. It's not the moment for dwelling on the past, my dear.” Octavius gently intervened, pulling you out of your reverie. “Let’s welcome this special guest you’re so eager to present.” You nodded, refocusing on the purpose of your visit: to reunite your husband with his beloved father.

Noticing your prolonged absence, Octavius made his way downstairs, using the flickering light of a candle to guide him through the labyrinth of books. He sought to recommend a novel with a lighter, and more romantic storyline to uplift your spirits. After feeling a twinge of guilt because of the earlier conversation you both exchanged. With the sound of approaching footsteps echoing softly in the library, Octavius remained absorbed in his search among the books, his fingertips delicately tracing the textures “Ah, darling, I was just perusing for a new novel for you to enjoy. Considering your fondness for romance. I thought 'Middlemarch' might be a splendid choice. It boasts an excellent plot and remarkable prose. I'm certain you'll adore it.” He trailed off, turning to face you taking the book in hand. Yet as he turned, the book slipped from his bony fingers, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him.

“Satoru?” Octavius gasped, his voice barely above a whisper. How was his son down here? No, he cannot be dead, his son’s skin yet hasn’t lost its color. He’s too young to be dead! It’s too early for them to meet up again. His mind reeled with confusion as he struggled to comprehend everything. Satoru's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he looked back at his father, meeting the form of his father after three long years. His poor father appeared more frail, his white hair thinner, his skin paler than ever, his bones showing off from his arms and his once vibrant blue eyes dulled with age. Despite these noticeable changes, along with the fact he’s meeting the deceased form of his father, Satoru couldn’t care less.

“Father,” Satoru called out, his voice thick with emotion, as tears of joy threatened to spill from his eyes, unable to believe they were finally reunited. Setting aside his light and his animal companion flying off his shoulder, he hurried towards his son. Without hesitation, he enveloped the tall figure of his son, holding him tightly close, still in a state of shock. Satoru released a quivering breath, his emotions overwhelming him while tears streamed down his cheeks. “Father.” he cried out once again. Satoru's embrace tightened as if he feared that loosening his grip would cause his father to vanish into thin air.

“Satoru, son.” his father whispered, his voice filled with emotion, “what are you doing here? You can't be here, not yet.”

Satoru chuckled through his tears, shaking his head as he continued to hold onto his father. “Don't worry about it, Father. I'll explain everything to you.”

For what felt like an eternity, they lingered in each other's embrace, time seeming to stand still as they reveled in the joy of their reunion.

“What!” his father's startled voice resonated through the desolate library, shattering the peaceful ambiance that had settled around them. “You're engaged to (Y/N)?”

Satoru heaved a weary sigh, nodding silently from his seat. “Believe me, Father. Everything is so confusing to me.”

“But, how?” His father's question lingered in the air, demanding further explanation. “Were you acquainted with her? When?” His father’s gaze bore into him, seeking clarity. “Did you truly exchange vows with her?”

“No!” He exclaimed, the words bursting forth. “It was all a mistake! I was meant to marry someone else.”

“Someone else? What do you mean?”

“Mother had arranged a marriage for me with the daughter of an affluent family,” Satoru lamented, his frustration evident in his speech. “We were slated to wed, yet due to a series of unfortunate circumstances, I am now entangled in an undesirable bond with a mere cadaver.”

His father absorbed Satoru’s words in silence, his eyes focused intently on the table before him. “It appears your mother failed to uphold my final wish for your future.” Raising his eyes to meet Satoru’s eyes, he asked with a solemn tone. “Do you hold affection for this woman?” His father’s question caught Satoru off guard, causing him to pause and reflect. Did he harbor genuine affection for Catherine?

“Though, my acquaintance with her may have been short. I was willing to give Catherine a chance. Love doesn’t magically appears, it grows.” Satoru confessed.

“What about (Y/N)? She didn't mean any harm.” his father reassured “Poor dear sought comfort in your presence to alleviate her solitude. You've shared a connection with her for two years, cherishing the moments you shared with her through your dreams. In a way, you've held affection for her, even if the affection you believed was for someone who didn't exist. If you were willing to give Catherine a chance, why can't you give (Y/N) a chance? Or is it because she is dead?”

“Yes, precisely because she's dead!” Satoru's voice resonated with frustration as he emphasized his point. “Can't you see? I could never marry her!”

Satoru's breaths grew heavier as he released his burdens, however, the sudden sympathetic regard from his father made him redirect his focus. Slowly turning around, Satoru saw you. As you were silently listening to their conversation. How much did you listen to? Standing there, you gaze at both of them with an expression that tugs at Satoru's heartstrings. Without uttering a word, you approached him, while avoiding his intense blue eyes. Now in front of him, you delicately disengaged the ring from your skeletal finger, bestowing it upon his palm. Your voice, scarcely more than a fragile whisper, as you said the following words, “I believe this belongs to you.”

In silence, Satoru witnessed your departure while a soft breeze gently lifted your torn veil, carrying it aloft in a poignant farewell. Despite the apparent closure, an unforeseen melancholy enveloped his spirit. He ought to have felt emancipated, liberated from a commitment borne of misinterpretation. Yet, your leaving left him feeling strangely hollow. Contemplating the ring now nestled in his hand, he was unsure of who this ring belonged to anymore.

Catherine stood before her reflection, as her maid adjusted the final embellishments of her bridal attire. Despite the turmoil within, she dared not shed a tear, constrained by the expectations placed upon her. As a bride who harbored no aspirations for matrimonial bliss, she bore the burden of her predicament with a heavy heart. In her vulnerability, her thoughts wandered to Satoru, a luminary amidst the gloom of her circumstances.

“Where are you, Satoru?” she silently pleaded, her heart yearning for his comforting presence. Despite her initial reservations about their engagement, once she met Satoru, he managed to break her walls down. The idea of facing the challenges ahead with a friend like Satoru by her side offered a semblance of comfort. Now, on the brink of union with Mr. Zenin, Catherine's spirit breaks. The prospect of forsaking the bond she shared with Satoru rents her soul asunder. Expecting her wedding day to be a harbinger of happiness, Catherine now stood in the dimly lit church, her senses dulled as she absorbed the echo of Mr. Zenin's vows. While the attendees were wearing solemn expressions, appeared eager for the ceremony to conclude as soon as possible.

Catherine now finds herself enveloped in a state of detachment, her body present but her mind adrift in a realm far removed from the present moment. The touch of Mr. Zenin's arm around her waist repulsed her. Her spirit ached for liberation from the shackles of this marital prison, She dreaded the touch of Mr. Zenin, and its suffocating weight. Following the exchange of vows and the priest's proclamation of their union, Catherine raised her gaze, tears glistening in her brown eyes. Each tear bore witness to the silent suffering she is enduring in the depths of her heart.

“Catherine, you are finally mine.” Mr. Zenin declared, leaning in to place a kiss upon Catherine's cheek. Forcing herself to stay still to receive his displays of fake affection. At that moment, Catherine came to the stark realization that she was utterly alone in the world.

As Satoru trailed after you, a tumult of emotions churned within him, burdened by the weight of guilt for inadvertently causing you pain. He had never intended to hurt you, he never meant to hurt anyone. Satoru went to the lengths of seeking guidance from the deceased, after learning your popularity among them. A man with a sword across his chest confirmed he had spotted you near their bar—the very place where you bought Satoru. He made his way to the tavern, and upon reaching its entrance, he was greeted by the delicate tones of a piano resonating in the empty locale. The melancholy melody being played for an absent audience. Satoru stepped inside, and as he advanced further, he caught sight of you at the organ, your back turned toward him. He couldn’t see your face, however it was easy to guess how you were feeling by the tones you were playing saturated with sorrow. Satoru drew nearer, positioning himself beside the organ.

“I apologize for my earlier words. I never meant to hurt you. It's just...” He paused, exhaling deeply before continuing. “Everything happened so quickly. I needed a moment to collect my thoughts.” Taking a seat beside you at the bench, he sought your gaze, yet you remained focused on the instrument, your fingers gracefully dancing across the keys. “I'm sorry for any misunderstandings. I should have been honest with you from the start—”

“It’s fine.” Your soft voice interjected as the melody ceased, though your gaze remained fixed on the keys “I shouldn’t be so naive. There's no nothing to forgive; I was the one who forced you to come down here in the first place.”

In the hush of the moment, Satoru's gaze remained fixed on the keys before him as he summoned the courage to voice one of his lingering uncertainties. “During those two years, were you there, quietly listening, keeping me company in the woods?” Your lack of response served as an eloquent confirmation.

“For two years, you stood by me, unbeknownst to me.” Satoru reflected with incredulous laughter. “I didn't know you at all, not in the physical sense. Yet, you still awaited my arrival every day for two years.”

“Why?” Satoru's question lingered, leaving you unable to provide an answer.

With a shaky sigh, you eventually admitted. “I found solace in your companionship. While listening to your poetic ramblings, as well as the way you express your emotions in solitude, believing you have no one to share them with. And your drawings, the ones you dismiss as 'not accurate,' when in truth, they are the most beautiful creations I've ever seen. And the time we've shared, even if only within the realm of your dreams... was among the most cherished experiences of my life. I simply find contentment in your presence.”

“I desired you to witness the best version of myself, fearing you might be disillusioned by my true appearance. When I heard you speak your vows, pure elation swept over me. So, I brought you here, convinced those vows were meant for me. However... I was too consumed by my own happiness to discern that your sentiments towards me were quite the opposite.” You trailed off with a wistful smile danced across your lips. “You're light, illuminating the paths of those lost in the dark. Your presence has profoundly enriched my life, without you even realizing it. In many ways, you saved me. It's quite amusing to say that when I'm already dead.” After some moments of silence, your fingers rested on the piano’s keys once again playing your previous melody.

Satoru found himself taken aback by the profound depths of your heartfelt confession, his innermost sentiments stirred by the sincerity of your words, yet incapable of expressing the intricate blend of emotions swirling within him. Observing your resumption of the melody, he was overcome by an irresistible impulse to participate, delicately extending his hand to caress the keys from his vantage point, momentarily interrupting the ethereal ambiance of your composition. Startled by this unexpected interjection, you paused and lifted your gaze to meet his, curiosity reflected in your eyes. Satoru let out a relieved smile upon seeing your eyes again. When Satoru asked if he could play a piece for you, you nodded stiffly, your hands resting on your lap as you allowed him to take over the piano. Starting softly, his notes echoed the melancholic undertones of your previous melody, but as the piece unfolded, the volume swelled and his fingers danced across the keys with practiced ease, as though the music flowed effortlessly from within him. Listening to his composition, a sense of déjà vu washed over you, recognizing the melody as something familiar, yet unable to place it. Before you knew it, your fingers found their way to the organ, seamlessly blending into Satoru's piece as the two of you created a harmonious melody together. In that sublime moment of shared musical communion, your eyes met in a silent exchange, each glance suffused with an unspoken understanding and connection that transcended the boundaries of spoken language.

Both of your fingers ceased their movements, bringing the beautiful melody to a gentle stop.

Satoru's smile grew as he spoke, “Do you happen to recognize this piece?”

You nodded, allowing a smile to grace your lips as well. “I do, but strangely, I can't recall where I heard it.”

“It was my father's cherished composition.” His words hung in the air, and at that moment, a profound memory stirred within you, unlocking a hidden piece of your past.

The sunlight on that particular day felt unusually warm, its rays enveloping you in a comforting embrace as you made your way out of the gardens. Entering the musical room, you paused at the doorway, captivated by the sight of Octavius already engrossed in playing a melody you had never heard before. Respecting his concentration, you lingered silently, allowing the symphony of notes to wash over you in a mesmerizing wave.

When Octavius eventually ceased playing and glanced back at you, “How long were you standing there, dear?” he asked.

“Long enough to witness such a masterpiece.” you replied warmly, appreciating the sentiment behind his composition.

With a gesture, Octavius invited you to join him at the bench, which you accepted without hesitation. “I composed this piece for my son.” he revealed, prompting your curiosity.

“Your son?” you inquired.

Octavius nodded, a hint of concern resting in his eyes. “Yes, my 12-year-old son. Sometimes, I worry that he feels alone in this world. So I composed this piece, so when he feels lonely he can feel my presence through it.” A gentle smile graced his lips as he continued, “Would you like to meet him? He's a polite and friendly boy, with a great passion for music and books. I'm certain the two of you will get along just fine.”

Touched by Octavius's openness and the opportunity to meet his son, you nodded eagerly, grateful for the chance to have a connection with someone who shared your love for the arts.

Lost in thought, you hadn't realized you were zoning out until Satoru's worried voice broke through your reverie, calling out to you. Startled, you blinked and refocused your attention, turning towards him with a sheepish smile.

Standing up, you extended your hand to Satoru, with a determined gleam in your eyes. “Come with me.” Satoru sensing your determination, he took your hand, ready to follow wherever you led.

“Please, Octavius. There has to be something you can do.” You pleaded.

Octavius sighed deeply, his eyes closing momentarily as he wrestled with your request. "It is unnatural and perhaps risky, but surely there's a book for it.” he conceded reluctantly.

Satoru, perplexed by the exchange, he approached with a furrowed brow and a hand gently placed upon your shoulder, urging you to face him. “(Y/N). What’s going on? What are you talking about?”

Your response was but a sheepish smile, accompanied by a gentle pat upon his hand before withdrawing. “A solution has been found.”

“Here it is—” Octavius's voice interjected after some moments of searching and inspecting the book's contents, as he descended the stairs, carrying a large book with him. “This will do.” As Octavius presented the large book containing the sought-after solution, you stepped forward to retrieve it, walking towards Satoru and extending the book to him. Puzzled, Satoru stared down at you, his confusion palpable.

“This volume contains the pathway to return to the realm of the living. There is still time, but haste is paramount.” Satoru lifted the book from your skeletal hands, a sense of unease crept over him, a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.

“I’m not going back.” Satoru declared firmly, his statement catching you off guard with its unexpectedness.

“What?”

“Son, what do you mean?” Octavius interjected, moving forward to stand beside you, both of you staring at Satoru with a blend of perplexity and apprehension.

“I said, I’m not going back. There's no point in returning.” Satoru clarified, his gaze locking onto yours with a poignant intensity. He gently took your hand in his and withdrew the ring from his pocket, the one you had given him earlier under the impression it didn't belong to you. With a tender touch, he slid it onto your finger.

“Satoru?”

“Marry me.” You stood rooted to the spot, enveloped by the weight of his request, feeling the gravity of the moment press upon you from all sides.

“Son, you must know what you are getting yourself into. As you can see, my dear (Y/N) is dead. Your marriage will pose complications; the vows are solemnized only until death do you part, and death has already parted her. For it to be an authentic union, it demands a significant sacrifice.” You released Satoru and turned to face Octavius.

“You mean?”

“Satoru would have to forsake the life he once knew and renew his vows in the realm of the living, partaking in the sacred wine of ages.” Octavius elucidated further.

“Poison.” you gasped, the word heavy on your tongue. Turning to Satoru, your eyes pleaded with him, filled with desperation., you begged, “Satoru, you see? You can’t do this. I could never ask you this. You’re young and have a whole life ahead of you, Our time ran out, but there’s still time for you—”

“I will do it.” Satoru interrupted firmly, his resolve unwavering.

“No. You don’t know what are you saying.” you protested.

“If it entails sacrificing my life to be with you and my father down here, then I shall do so.” Satoru declared resolutely, taking your hand once again.

Overwhelmed by his declaration, you turned to Octavius for support, “Octavius, you must get your son to think right.”

Octavius sighed. “I will respect whatever decision my son takes. There’s nothing I can do.”

Satoru pulled you towards him, his gaze softening with tenderness. “Marry me, (Y/N). Properly this time. I will not let you suffer alone anymore.”

“What about Catherine?” You whispered.

“Catherine is a part of my past, a chapter that is now being closed. What matters now is us.” Despite the sincerity in his eyes, you couldn't shake the lingering doubt that lingered within your heart. Yet you find yourself accepting in the end. For so long you have yearned for this moment, now that you have it, you can't let his chance slip through your fingers so easily.

“Gather around everybody. A proper wedding shall take place back in the realm of the living and each of you is cordially invited to bear witness. Let us unite in celebration and love as my fiancé and I will embark on this journey together.”

“Thank you all for gathering here today to celebrate my union between myself and my beloved wife, Catherine.” Mr. Zenin addressed the gathering, his words carrying a weight of solemnity. “I vow before you all to be a steadfast companion to Catherine, offering my unwavering support through every joy and trail that life may present.” As he raised his glass of champagne in a toast, the guest remained indifferent to the gloomy union, obligated to witness. As for Catherine, she was lost in thought, unmoved by her husband’s words, her gaze distant and unfocused. “This day shall forever be etched in memory as the day I am blessed to call Catherine my own, and I swear to all of you that I will—”

Before Mr. Zenin could continue, the moment was shattered by a cacophony of screams echoing from outside. Panic ensued as the guests scrambled to their feet, their expressions wrought with concern as they went out to see what was the commotion about. Once they did, their eyes widened in horror at the surreal sight that greeted them; the undead walking among them! Their grotesque forms descended upon the town. The guests fled from the wedding party seeking refuge from the nightmare unfolding before their eyes. Between the chaos, Catherine despite the lingering fear inside her, she remains calm. Her eyes fixed on the procession of the undead making their way towards the town’s church. Without hesitation, she followed in their wake, her wedding dress trailing behind her. She couldn’t care less now that her husband ran off scared. As she makes her way to see who this strange wedding belongs to.

Once their beloved guests were settled into the church of the living, Octavius stayed behind with his son before the ceremony, placing a comforting hand upon Satoru’s shoulder. “Son, are you absolutely certain about your decision?” He was sure. He was ready to take responsibility and form a life with you even if it meant he would die.

Satoru met his father’s gaze and nodded resolutely. “Yes, father. I am certain. I cannot deny that I was initially overcome by fear and frustration, unable to comprehend the unfolding events. But now, I’m sure she is the one destined to walk by my side.” He admitted, his tone tinged with a sense of vulnerability. “What I regret is that we did not cross paths sooner, thinking that if we did. Perhaps, she will still be alive. For two long years, she waited faithfully for me and now I refuse to let her wait a moment longer. Today, I shall stand as her husband.”

“Finally, my son is marrying for love. That’s all ever I wish for you.” His father expressed with a touch of emotion.

Satoru’s smile widened as he nodded at his father’s words. “I will make you proud.”

“You have already done so,” his father affirmed, his hand tenderly caressed his cheek before letting go. “Now, go and make (Y/N) yours.”

As Satoru stood at the altar, he learned a couple of things in this unexpected journey. Despite the barriers of physical appearance and mortality, his love for you remains. With a new clarity, he pledged to honor and cherish you for all eternity. That’s the least he can do for you. As you entered the church, holding the dead bouquet that had accompanied you since the day you departed from the realm of the living, Satoru’s heart swelled with awe. Despite your bones sticking out, you exuded a timeless beauty that took his breath away. He regretted not having noticed your beauty sooner. As you got closer, Satoru took hold of you, standing together now as you prepared to exchange vows properly this time.

“With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows. Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be your wine.” He recites now with ease the vows, holding the empty cup in his hand.

You found yourself gazing into those mesmerizing eyes, each hue reminiscent of the depths of the clear sky. You began to recite your vows as well, your voice carrying the weight of your love and commitment. “With this hand, I shall lift the burden of your sorrows.” You took hold of the wine ages, to pour it down Satoru’s cup. “Your cup shall never run dry, for I shall be—” For I shall be.

What are you doing?

You halted your vows, as your eyes fell upon a feminine figure observing the ceremony from the shadows.

Catherine?

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over you. This is wrong. Satoru’s smile waned as he noticed your hesitation. He shoots you an encouraging gaze urging you to continue. Though, you still were struggling to find your voice, stumbling over your words, unable to complete your vows.

“For I shall be your wine.” Satoru finished your sentence, his hand reaching for the cup containing the deadly elixir. But you intervened before he could take a sip.

“I can’t.”

Satoru’s beating heart shattered into a million pieces. “Why?”

“This isn’t right.”

“How so?” Satoru inquired, gently lowering the cup to grasp both of your hands.

“Satoru, I was intended to belong to another. Meant to be someone else’s wife. But my dreams were stolen from me, and now…I’ve stolen them from someone else.”

“I know all about your past.” Satoru interjected squeezing your hands together. “But none of that matters to me. All that matters is the present and what we can built together.”

You shook your head stubbornly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, unable to hold back the emotions swirling inside you. “This isn’t love. What you feel for me is empathy. For a woman who met a tragic fate. You don’t love me Satoru.”

“I do love you,” Satoru exclaimed, his voice filled with desperation. “Don’t you see that I’m willing to die for you? I may have not realized my love for you before but now I’m here to redeem my actions. My heart belonged to you the very moment I saw you in my dreams.”

Your closed your eyes, your breaths coming out heavy. “You love Catherine. Not me.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

Both you and Satoru adverted your gazes as a female voice interrupted your conversation. Catherine stepped from the shadows, making her presence known. Satoru’s eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing with questions about her sudden appearance.

“We thought if we force this feeling love eventually it will turn real love so we wouldn’t be lonely. Satoru. He wants you.”

You couldn’t fathom her assertion, shaking your head with a resigned expression. “How could you possibly know?”

“I see it.” She insisted as she approached closer. Catherine then intertwined your hand with Satoru’s, her voice carrying a solemn assurance. “His love for you is genuine. Whatever sentiments he may have harbored for me were purely friendship.”

As she offered her reassurance with her kind words, Satoru’s gaze softened as he looked down at her, a profound sense of gratitude evident in his eyes.

“I love you, (Y/N).” Satoru’s voice was filled with sincerity and earnestness as he spoke, his eyes pleading with you to understand the depth of his feelings. “Please let me marry you today.”

He cradled your countenance in his palms as he inclined to savor your frigid lips bereft of vitality, while your tears entwined with the fervent kiss. You tried to resist him, yet you find yourself powerless, unable to deny the hold he has over your heart. Thus, you yielded, the profound affection you harbor for him overwhelms your every resistance. The embrace of the kiss loosens its hold, and he still cradles your face unable to let you go.

“Have you lost your senses? You've just kissed a dead person.” You uttered with a tearful chuckle.

“Dearest soon enough, I'll be in the same state.” He leaned in, his lips meeting the icy surface of your cheek in a gentle kiss.

“Ah, weddings! A scene that never fails to moisten my eyes. Yet, I must confess, a ceremony such as this—a bride from the realm of the departed, and a groom among the living—surely stands as a unique testament to the enduring power of love. Nevertheless, do we not all cherish tales of joyful resolutions?” Naoya's unexpected entrance into the church was marked by a calculated grin, his blonde locks framing his confident countenance as he surveyed the gloomy scene, his gaze inevitably drawn to his wife, Catherine standing beside the couple.

“Catherine, my dear, it is time to return home.” He declared, his tone tinged with an authoritative command. Catherine recoiled subtly at the sound of his voice, whispering a soft denial. Mr. Zenin, displeased by her response, advanced towards Catherine, seizing her wrist with an iron grip, compelling her to comply, eliciting gasps of astonishment from the gathered guests.

“You are mine to take! Where do you think you are going? Your dowry is my entitlement; do not forget the purpose behind our union!”

Catherine struggled against his hold, fixing him with a defiant glare. “What wealth? We possess none! This marriage was intended to salvage my family from ruin!”

“What!”Mr. Zenin erupted before he could respond further.

Satoru intervened, “Release her.”

Mr. Zenin turned to face Satoru with a scowl etched upon his features, his grip tightening around Catherine's wrist. “She's my wife, and I have the prerogative to do as I please with her.”

Amid the chaos, time seemed to pause as you recognized the man before you, memories of heartache flooding back at the sight of him. “Naoya?” Your voice pierced through the clamor, drawing his gaze toward you with immediate intensity upon hearing his name spoken by your lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Our union shall forever be thwarted by the stringent decree of our family. My dearest, I find myself incapable of enduring another fleeting moment bereft of your presence. My affection for you knows no bounds, and I shall traverse any obstacle to claim you as my own.” Naoya proclaims, enfolding you closely against his chest, his lips tenderly grazing the crown of your head.

“Your sentiments mirror the intensity of my own, my beloved. The anguish of separation rends my very soul.” You reciprocate.

Naoya relinquishes the embrace, cradling your visage as his lips tenderly caress yours with fervent ardor, leaving you breathless.

“Let us elope. We must not allow ourselves to be ensnared by the strictures imposed upon us.” He proposes, his suggestion instilling a tremor of fear within you, yet overridden by the depth of your love for him.

“We shall convene within the bosom of the woodland at the stroke of midnight. Thereafter, we shall carve out our destiny together, emancipated from the shackles of societal convention.”

“Will you ever find satisfaction?” you queried, your voice trembling with poignant emotion. “I might have eventually forgiven your plundering of my riches, leaving me bereft and awaiting our union. But why… why did you have to snatch away my life as well?”

You can still keenly remember the feeling of his sword cleaving through your chest, the excruciating pain that tore through you, and the icy tendrils of the air wrapped around you while you lay there, bleeding out no one to offer solace or bid you farewell. Surrendering yourself to the inevitability of death, you found no escape, no alternative but to embrace the abyss that awaited.

“I didn't deserve that.” You whispered, tears tracing their path down your cheeks, a silent testament of your pain.

Satoru's inner fury simmered, his sense of indignation growing with each passing moment. He couldn't fathom the selfishness of the man before him, who callously stole your life for his own desires.

“Naoya.” a voice intervened, adding another layer of intensity to the scene. Naoya's grasp on Catherine loosened, allowing her to rush to your side.

“How's that bastard of your father doing?” Octavius now asked, standing before the blond man, his tone dripping with disdain.

“Octavius?” Naoya whispered, a flicker of recognition igniting within him as he beheld the deceased form of his father's former business partner.

“I see that you've inherited his foul blood, brimming with selfishness, ugliness, and pride.” Octavius spat, his words laced with venom. “You killed an innocent woman, deceitfully leading her on false promises—with the very things she held dear. Your family is nothing but a brood of vultures, feasting on the vulnerable. Your father ruined me, stripping away every ounce of my hard earned fortune, leaving my family defenseless. But that wasn’t enough, was it? Now you’ve followed in your father’s despicable footsteps by taking (Y/N)‘s life. I pray that you and your vile kin never found peace. For I know someone as wretched as yourself will never find redemption.”

Naoya erupted into laughter, his sarcasm dripping from every word. “You’re a fool, Octavius.” He taunted. “My father merely exploited your naivety to his advantage. Don’t blame me for it.”

His laughter abruptly ceased as a firm grip seized his shoulder. “That’s enough.” Satoru interjected, his eyes ablaze with a dangerous rage.

Naoya scoffed, shrugging off Satoru’s grip on his shoulder. In a swift motion, he lunged towards one of the guests, seizing a sword protruding from their open chest. “I refuse to leave here without my wife!”

“(Y/N), take Catherine with you.”

You complied at Satoru’s command, positioning Catherine behind you.

Naoya’s eerie laughter rang inside the church, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Do I have to kill you too?” He sneered.

“Satoru!” His father’s voice thundered, hurling a sword towards his son to equalize the confrontation. Now both men were engaged in a battle of life and death, their swords clashing against each other, the metallic clang reverberating through the room. While Naoya was a skilled swordsman, Satoru was inexperienced in the art of combat. Though, he fought with raw determination, as they were both thrown around, refusing to yield. Blinded by rage, Satoru unleashed a fierce strike that sent Naoya crashing to he ground, his arm slashed by the force of the blow.

“What are you waiting for?” Naoya tainted with a mocking smile, challenging him to end his life. “Kill me!!”

He hungers to end his life for the pain his father inflicted upon Octavius, his malevolence in ending your life as well for forcing Catherine’s hand in marriage.

In a moment of clarity, the thirst for vengeance fades from his eyes, as he lowered his sword, catching Naoya off guard. “Your fate is not mine to decide.” Satoru proclaimed, turning away and motioning for you to take his sword. Descending from the altar, you approached, ready to meets out your own justice. Lifting the sword with both of your hands, you prepared to strike. Naoya gasped in fear, shutting his eyes together to the incoming attack, however it never came. Confusion etched across his face as he looked up at you, only to be met with a cold, unwavering glare.

“I refuse to let your blood stain my hands.” You declared, tossing the sword across the room, and turning to your guests with a serene smile. “My beloved guests, the celebration shall continue. Join us for an after-party.” They chattered among them with eerie and anticipated smiles, as they circled around Naoya’s fallen form. Naoya’s cries of desperation echoed through the hall, but you remained unmoved by his pleas, allowing the deceased to drag Naoya away to face the most appalling punishments reserved for those as wicked as him.

Approaching Satoru and Catherine, you initiated with a genteel squeeze of Catherine's hand, imparting a gracious smile. "I extend my deepest gratitude," you conveyed with earnestness. Catherine reciprocated with a nod, gently returning the pressure of your hand. “There's no need to thank me.”

Releasing Catherine's hand, you turned towards Satoru, who already held the chalice containing the wine of ages. Despite his prior avowal of readiness to offer himself for you, an insatiable need for confirmation lingered. Satoru nodded with a steadfast demeanor, his grasp on your hand unwavering. “Without a doubt.” he asserted with conviction.

Satoru remains true to his word, committing to spend an eternity by your side in the realm of the deceased. Perhaps, amid the vast expanse of eternity, both of you may find each other once more in another life, vowing never to forget one another. This time around, you plan to live a longer life, cherishing every moment together and appreciating the time you have without regrets.

Author’s Note Please don’t let this fic flopped I really worked hard on this one. Please check out my other works at my page, thanks for reading!!

All rights reserved © 2024 ioveartfilm. Please do not copy, rewrite, or translate my work on any other platform.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk #jjk fanfic #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk imagines #jjk masterlist #fiction #tumblr fyp #fypage #gojo x y/n #geto x reader #gojo satoru #geto x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #geto headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x female reader #geto x y/n #getou suguru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru angst

[machiavellli]

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

#theodore nott headcanons #my headcanons #my gif #Theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #Slytherin #Harry Potter fandom #theo nott x reader #Theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #breeding k1nk #theodore nott smut #theodore nott scenarios #preggo kink #Theodore nott x pregnant!reader #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #harry potter headcanon #fem reader #slytherin friend group #smut #italian literature #poetry #slytherin boys x you #theodore nott #pregnancy k1nk #Theodore nott aesthetic #new Roman Empire unlocked #dark academia

[leighsartworks216]

In The Moonlight

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Lowkey wrote this for @niermortem bc the Astarion hyperfixation goes hard

I've never written for Astarion before and I'm still not 100% comfortable with his speech patterns and stuff but I had to write this or I would not be able to sleep tonight. Tbh y'all are lucky he even spoke at all. I was going to have Tav shush him lmao

Warnings: Cazador, mentions of past abuse, mentions of biting, vague implications of sex, like one swear

Word Count: 1,110

Masterlist

AO3

He’s so beautiful, just like this. The moon reaches through the window and caresses his hair, turning already-bright white into pure starlight. His pale skin glows. And when the sun rises and casts beams of yellow-orange over him, it’s almost as if blood flows through him once more.

You cannot sleep. Despite how tired your body was, your mind couldn’t sit still. It pondered over the day’s events - if you made the right choices, what you could have done better, your companions - endlessly spiraling out of sleep’s embrace. And you would still have been going over these questions and concerns, if Astarion did not look so damn pretty.

He fell asleep a while ago. With a gentle kiss to your cheek and a whisper of thanks, he’d tucked one arm under his head and draped the other across your waist, and drifted off. A hint of a smile still lingered there. Creases by his mouth and eyes proving a simple joy that followed him into his dreams.

It felt wrong to watch him like this. Like studying how his curls fell across his forehead and the flicker of his eyes behind his eyelids was in some way betraying his trust. The thought alone - of ruining this beautiful foundation of trust and patience and understanding - should have been enough to have you close your eyes or turn away. And yet, something inside you yearned for more. An ache in your chest that urged you to touch him, to be closer to him.

And the urge was stronger than your perceived guilt.

Slowly, you raised a hand to his face. At first, all you did was brush the curl from his forehead. The stubborn thing only bounced right back.

Your eyes trailed from his hair to his eyebrows. So often did a crease find its way between them, pinched in frustration or confusion. Your hand followed. With the barest brush of your thumb, you smoothed out the imaginary crease. Astarion breathed in deeply - causing you to hold your own - before sighing softly. His face relaxed even more, shoulders easing into the pillows that cushioned him.

You focused next on his eyes. Deep, bloody red irises hidden behind thin lids that held so much worry and uncertainty and joy and hope. Hope. It had taken so long for the vampire to actually be optimistic about the future. He had no idea what would happen next - between Cazador and the tadpoles, there was little to be optimistic about. When you helped him, despite his original plans to manipulate and use you, he realized things did not always have such awful outcomes. Even your first encounter, with his blade to your throat, had somehow brought you here, together and warm and safe.

Despite being an elf, he had such deep bags beneath his eyes. Even the crows feet and laugh lines that appeared with his smile were unusual. He’d told you sparingly about his life under Cazador. The things he fed on, the poem carved into his back, and the horrible things he did. Undoubtedly, the lines came from that time. Barely eating enough to survive, luring people in with his charms for an uncaring master, being tortured in the dark. Yet, you couldn’t imagine Astarion without them. He was so pretty when he smiled.

You move on to his nose and his cheeks. His features are all well defined, sharp. It makes him seem dangerous, even at a first glance. Like a snake, hiding fangs behind shimmering scales.

Beckoned by the analogy, your eyes flicker to his lips. They’re so soft, despite the way he chews his bottom lip. Where before his kisses were rough, demanding, now they’re slow, careful. He no longer kisses you like he has to woo you over and get you to play his game. He kisses you like he’s savoring the last drop of wine. Even his bites are gentler, pricking your neck as carefully as he can unless you ask him nicely to be rougher.

“Too distracted to sleep, are we?”

His voice makes you jolt. You weren’t expecting his lips to move so suddenly. Nor did you realize before how your hand cupped his jaw and your thumb stroked his cheek. You can feel his smile as he chuckles.

“I didn’t mean to startle you, my dear,” he coos. “But don’t you think it’s a bit late to be admiring my features?”

You take a moment to compose yourself, urging your heart to still from the scare. Damn you for thinking so much about his mouth. Astarion is nice enough to wait and listen as you relax once more, though you continue to trace over his skin and brush the curls in front of his ears back.

“I couldn’t sleep. And you look so beautiful in the moonlight.”

He slips his arm from underneath his head as he turns into your hand, holding your wrist in place as he kisses your palm. “I appreciate it, my love. But it’s been a long and exhausting day, and we both need our beauty rest.”

Red eyes watch, half-lidded, as you smile - he loves it just as much as you love his. Before, he couldn’t care less. Now, oh the things he would do to see you happy every waking moment of the rest of your lives.

The blankets shift against each other as you move to be closer. You tuck yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his torso and pressing your face into his neck. You are so warm. He lets out a soft breath as he curls around you, protective and safe all at once. Slender fingers tangle carefully into the hair at the nape of your neck, keeping your head tucked away under his chin.

For so long, he charmed and manipulated people. They touched and got close to him, in ways he quickly detached himself from. For so long. It was still difficult to fathom how he sought it out with you. How he did not go through the motions of physical intimacy, how he actually wanted to be physically intimate in more ways than just sexually. How long he’d been deprived of something genuine like this. He wanted to savor every gods-forsaken minute of it.

Your warm breath fanned across his neck as you spoke. Had he been able to, it would have sent a chill down his spine.

“I love you.”

His fingers curl into your waist, grounding himself into your body as your skin gives under his fingertips. In return, you squeeze him in your hold, solidifying even more that this is real. You are real.

“I love you, too, darling.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #fluff #touch starved #literal sleeping together #possibly ooc #pov second person #second person pov #drabble #gn reader #gender neutral reader

[facts-i-just-made-up]

what kind of music was around in the 80s

The 80s contained three distinct types of music:

New Wave

Glam Metal

Gothic Rock

New Wave was the most popular type of music, using synthesizers and incorporating cues from the post-punk world. Groups like The Talking Heads, The Flock of Seagulls, and The Gary Numan all made music that sold like pop music, but also maintained the limited creative diversity and inoffensive lack of risk of pop music.

Glam Metal took the pioneering darkness and toughness of Heavy Metal pioneered by Black Sabbath, Motörhead and Iron Maiden, then replaced it with long hair, expensive jackets, and songs about partying. The most metal thing about glam metal bands were their logos, which were airbrushed to look like they were made of metal. Sadly, the addiction of many such musicians to very tight pants rendered them all incapable of having children, so this genre didn't last beyond the 80s.

Gothic Rock by contrast ignored all pretense of popularity and embraced the pretense of unpopularity. The best gothic rock was the least popular, which made it the most popular, which in turn made it suck. Thus no gothic rock band lasted more than two albums before switching genres, failing and breaking up, and then going back to their origins with a reunion tour. Such bands embraced the dark aesthetic of the gothic revival and wrote lyrics resembling poems by Edgar Allan Poe and Edward Gorey. They were also fond of skulls, bats, and taking black and white photos in graveyards. You can easily recognize real gothic rock by the tendency of its singers to sound like they have tonsillitis and, paradoxically given their usual diet, not enough coffee.

The 80s also contained the video for "Never Gonna Give You Up," which is well known online yet rarely recognized as the breakthrough video by Simon West, future director of Con-Air. That part's real btw.

#80s #80s music #glam metal #gothic rock #new wave #unreality

[hanilessa]

May I request a kazuha x reader where kazuha finds out his wife is expecting a child and is soon to have his own family?

` Author’s notes: hii, dear anon!! thank u for your request. this is very cute, i like this idea sm. >_< i really hope you like this!! enjoy! ♡

` Kazuha x Fem!Reader

` Genre: fluff, romance, mention of pregnancy

Gentle waves caressed Kazuha's face when he stood on the deck of the big ship and looked into the distance. The smell of the sea, fresh fish and salt entered his nostrils, and this always accompanied him on sea voyages.

Salty sea water beat against the wooden base of the ship, rocking it from side to side. On the deck, the cheerful voices of the sailors and captain Beidou's orders were heard. She was ready to moor the ship to Inazuma's berth.

Kazuha exhaled in a relaxed way, feeling the howl of the wind. One that was only in Inazuma. He looked around his native expanses, in the distance he could see the pier of the coastal city, and Kazuha's heart began to beat at an accelerated pace.

He finally arrived home after a long voyage that lasted several long months. He arrived where his native country was. Where you were waiting for him.

Thoughts of you never left his head, accompanying every thought he had, every word he ever uttered. It reminded him of you.

He felt this world, like a real poet or artist. And it has never been a problem for him to match you with any beautiful word in this world. Because you're truly the most beautiful thing that could ever happen to him.

The heart beats a frantic rhythm, unable to endure separation any longer and trying to jump out of the chest to jump into your gentle and warm hands, which are ready to warm it in the coldest days and nights.

Just a little, just a little wait, and you will again find yourself in his strong arms, and both of you can again be close to each other after a long time of separation. Thoughts about this warm Kazuha's soul, and he thinks that for this he can endure a little more.

You accompany his thoughts, your words that you have important news for him can't leave his head. In one of your letters to him, you mentioned this important news, but didn't directly tell him what it could be.

The wind caught his longing to see you and the slight interest he had in wanting to know what you were talking about.

And when he finally sees you, standing on the pier, in a light pink kimono, he takes his breath away. In the reddish-purple glow of the setting sun, with his favorite wind in your swaying hair, you're as beautiful as ever.

You smile brightly, waving your hand at him, and with the other hand gently hold on to a slightly rounded belly.

Kazuha's soul sings with the most beautiful melodies that can come from musical instruments when he understands what you were talking about.

Kazuha, exhaling happily, presses you closer to him, finally feeling a warm and beloved embrace and gently whispers in your ear:

"Even poems can't convey all the happiness that I feel right now." Kazuha hugs you tighter, and you laugh happily.

He puts his strong hand on your round belly, and you hold your breath in the hope that the baby will recognize his dad and move in the belly.

"Nothing happened…" Kazuha exhales sadly, and you smile reassuringly at him.

"Don't worry, we have plenty of time ahead of us." You speak in a soft voice and he nods.

His lips meet yours in a kiss and you both don't have to worry anymore because you both are back together and have a great future ahead of you with your baby. Being with you and your baby is all Kazuha ever dreamed of.

#genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x you #kazuha x reader #kazuha imagines #genshin impact x female reader #genshin impact x you #genshin headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons

[milkb0nny]

Could you please do Jing yuan trying to comfort is s/o when they r crying? I just imagine him to be like some sort of cuddle bug tryin to comfort his lover 😭🩷

Jing Yuan comforting his crying s/o

Jing Yuan x neutral!reader

Note: Thank you very much for requesting! I love this idea and I had a lot of fun writing it. Comforting headcanons always cheer up your not so bright days. 🤎 I hope you like it!

🤎 Despite his busy routine and the weight of his responsibilities as a General, Jing Yuan is incredibly gentle and understanding when it comes to comforting you. He understands that everyone needs a shoulder to cry on, and he is more than willing to be that strong, comforting presence. Jing Yuan will most likely ask you about your discomfort before you open up, making it easy for the two of you to cope with whatever you go through.

🤎 Jing Yuan has a way with words that can soothe even the most troubled soul. He knows just what to say to make you feel heard and validated. His words are like a warm embrace, wrapping you in a comforting cocoon of reassurance. Besides giving you lovely compliments, he’ll tell you what solutions you could chase after and what the two of you can do to solve your issues. Of course he is there for you when you need him, but he’s also there to always help you out.

🤎 Though, sometimes, the best way Jing Yuan can comfort you is by simply being there. He may take a break from his busy schedule to sit in silence with you, holding your hand or offering a comforting hug. His presence alone is often enough to provide solace. He tends to not ask questions when he notices you breathing hysterically. In times you hyperventilate, he stays silent or softly hums melodies of songs you often listen to together. Pushing your limits to the breaking point with comments or questions isn’t his way at all.

🤎 Jing Yuan is very protective of his lover. If the source of your distress is external, he will go to great lengths to ensure your safety and well-being. His determination to keep you safe is a source of comfort in itself. He is unable to view you fearing the future, fearing certain places, fearing yourself; he needs you safe and sound. Jing Yuan won’t solve issues the violent way but he’s not afraid to use his high position to fight off anything - or anyone - that could potentially hurt you.

🤎 He knows that little surprises can go a long way in brightening your depressed mood. He might leave a poetic note or a small gift for you to find when you’re feeling down, showing that he's always thinking of your well-being. Like everyone, you sometimes prefer to stay alone in order to settle your chaotic mind; in times like these Jing Yuan gifts you love poems, small sticky notes or a single flower in front of your room.

🤎 Jing Yuan mastered the art of making soothing herbal teas for you. He'll prepare your favorite tea in your personalized cup and serve it to you, encouraging you to sip slowly and relax as the warmth of the tea calms your senses. From time to time he hears you crying in the night. He knows you’ll calm down with some warm, not too hot, tea and his arms around you. Even though tiredness also haunts him, he’s never too tired to make you a cup of tea, or hot milk with honey, or whatever you want. Then, he’ll sit down, pet your back and wrap you in a thick blanket.

🤎 Although he often appears reserved, Jing Yuan is willing to share his own vulnerabilities with you. He might open up about his own challenges, creating a sense of mutual understanding and connection. Only if it fits the situation though, since he doesn’t want to turn your struggles into a competition. Still, you appreciate his open mind as he rarely expresses his own struggles in life. He’s more the type to eat it all up.

#jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hrs jing yuan #hrs x reader

[foranpo]

ੈ˚☆ when they love you the most.

fandom: genshin impact.

characters: childe, thoma, kaveh.

reader: gn!

genre: headcanons.

content: fluff.

word count: ~250 each // 700 total

ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading ♡ ──────

˚ʚ childe.

in the waves of moonlight, feeling your body next to his, after an exhausting day, not knowing how to react to the world —Childe loved you the most when everything that existed ceased to be and nothing but luminous darkness covered the entire vast horizon.

alone with you, comforted in small walls, wrapped in soft sheets, Childe loved you more when he stopped pretending. without any weight of the world on his shoulders, completely devoid of imaginary people that formed his being, Childe loved you when he was himself and only him.

truly Childe.

with the delicacy trapped in his touch and the neediness clinging to his gaze, Childe loved you with the grace of the end of the day, the tiredness of being so many without any rest holding his slurred, but always felt and vibrant, words.

an i love you. an i missed you. a just five more minutes.

small pleas escaped Childe's lips like prayers from the most devout of believers, all the anguish and uncertainty that commanded his body to dissipate when at home, comforted in small walls, wrapped in soft sheets, clinging to you.

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ thoma.

in the insecurities of the future and the uncertainties of the present, bathed in the clarity of the sun and declaimed by the beauty of the flowers —Thoma loved you the most when everyone got tired of you and threw you to the ground, over and over again, without any warning.

entire afternoons seemed short when you felt Thoma's embrace. small poems were quoted between murmurs, songs from the most famous poets finding a melody between Thoma's soft lips.

whenever and every time the whole world fell on you, whenever and every time the whole world decided to test your strength, Thoma was there for you, reminding you why he didn't let go, etching it into your memory with colors of love and affection that him, and always him, would be a word away from you.

tranquility and peace. among all the chaos, Thoma existed.

it didn't exist just for you, but for your relationship; patience and understanding fled from Thoma's fingertips, outlining drawings of strength and encouragement, writing memories of love on your soft skin.

always calm, always smiling, Thoma loved you.

he just loved you. there was no other way to say it, as there was no other way to feel it: pure passion burned Thoma's heart, using the lava that flowed inside him to build permanent fortifications of love and tenderness in your hands every time he caressed you between poems of tomorrow and sonnets of your conquests;

extreme devotion squeezed Thoma's heart, letting the line that hung from him escape through his lips in all the light, graceful, affectionate kisses that he gave you in all the memories of who you are and who you once were.

when everyone gave up on you, Thoma was by your side. always and forever with you.

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ kaveh.

between dusty pages and lit candles, sweet with the certainty of a future —Kaveh loved you the most when a new shine appeared in your eyes.

your curiosity lit up your face every time happiness clench to your heart, leading you to question what else you could love, what else you could do.

and Kaveh clung to all your smiles.

admiring you from afar, always fearing to share your happiness, totally nervous about destroying your passion, Kaveh allowed your entire existence to strongly paint his heart with warmer, more passionate tones.

all because you discovered a new passion, a new goal.

how beautiful it was to see you grow, become the wonderful person who inspires each of Kaveh's creations; between smiles and looks, words and memories, your entire essence rained down stardust that stuck to Kaveh's notebooks, forcing him to draw, to create, for you.

for your courage to start something new when no one expected anything from you; for your resilience in continuing when the world knocked you down —Kaveh admired you, but, above all, he loved you. yesterday and today. in a tomorrow awaited by you, in a future carved by both of you, Kaveh loved you, for all eternity.

ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated ♡ ─────

#;genshin impact constellation; #childe x reader #childe headcanons #thoma x reader #thoma headcanons #kaveh x reader #kaveh headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons

[st4rtar0t]

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[jiniret-writings]

Sweet Nothings

Inspired by Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Pairing: idol!Bangchan x idol!Reader

Warnings: Reader ruminates over how they're constantly criticized

Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are welcome and appreciated!

On the way home I wrote a poem You say, "What a mind" This happens all the time

They always wanted so much from you. It was like everyone had some expectation of you that you could never reach. Every lyric scrutinized, every dance move analyzed; even the way you walked was up for scrutiny. What once brought you joy started to feel like a chore. It felt like you weren't allowed to have fun with lyrics anymore unless you wanted articles written about how you had "lost your spark".

That was until Chan came along. The first time you met him you thought he would be like everyone else. Especially since he was a producer and songwriter, you were expecting him to give you feedback from the first meeting--as most producers you met did. Instead, he talked to you about your crocheting. It was a little hobby you had that you barely ever talked about, but he remembered it.

You two had a blossoming friendship that turned to more on a drive home from dance practice. You were playing around with a beat and wrote some lyrics that didn't mean much. It was just an in-the-moment type of thing. But when he heard it, he just smiled at you and added to your little bundle of nonsense.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

He never judged you. That's one of the things you loved most about him. You were both idols who got extremely busy and each had your own bundle of problems, but at the end of the day when you two were airing it all out in the open and ranting about everything from a small inconvenience to huge scandals, there was never any judgement. Only understanding.

There were days when it seemed like nothing was ever enough. You'd go live and message on bubble and post on Instagram and weverse and even uploaded a vlog! But there was always something amiss. Some challenge you didn't do or some song you didn't talk about. Your captions were either lackluster or too cringe. You kept a brave face around the fans, and even started doing so in front of staff. It was only when you were with Chan that you could let the facade crumble and hide yourself in his embrace.

They said the end is coming Everyone's up to something I find myself running home to your sweet nothings

You were only 24 but were already reminded of how easy it would be for you to fade into nothingness. Every month a new artist debuted, and while you were secure where you were now, there was no guarantee for the future. One day, the world would deem you too old to be an idol and all you'd have left was your name.

But when you came home, it was like all your worries were silenced. There were no expectations between the two of you other than to just be.

"Be yourself, that's all I want from you", he'd said one day when you'd tried breaking up with him early in your relationship. Just be you.

Everything was something to be celebrated. Something as small as waking up was an accomplishment when you were with Chan. Lazy days in were rebranded to self care days. There was no such thing as a lazy meal because everything tasted better when you were together. Chan was your safe space and you were his. All there was between you two was pure love. You treasured each other as you were, not as you could be.

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing

This has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for a while, but after Chan changed his Instagram caption I realized how I wanted to write this. I hope all of you have someone you can turn to who can just accept you as you are and not for what you can be. You deserve to be with someone/people who don't have expectations for what you need to be. As always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night <3

-Jini

#jiniret-writings #jiniret writings #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #bangchan fluff #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bangchan angst #bang chan angst #angst #fluff #taylor swift #inspired by taylor swift #sweet nothings #sweet nothing #bangchan x you #bangchan x reader #bangchan imagines #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x you

[bedoballoons]

I don't know how many requests I can make and I don't wanna bother you🥲but if I can make more uh maybe a reader that like babies the characters if they look or talk about something when they wake up it's at there door step maybe with tighnari,cyno,wanderer,Xiao and kazuha

You can request....AS MANY TIMES AS YOU WANT! I love writing requests and I love this idea too!! Thank you so much for your request and I hope I do it justice!!

Genshin Men Headcanons:

~Finding a baby on the doorstep~

(Includes: Tighnari, Kazuha, Wanderer, Xiao, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tighnari:

You yawned quietly, lifting your arms into the air to try and stretch the comfiness of sleep away from your tired muscles. You blinked your eyes a couple times, adjusting them to the bright lights of morning and trying to rid yourself of the last remnants of sleep that tugged at you, making you want to lay back down. Why had you waken up so early again?

The subtle knock on the door grabbed your attention, that's why you were now awake, your eyes darted to your sleeping boyfriend. It was his home...should he be the one to answer the door? "Tighnariii...someone's at the door..." You said quietly, gently placing a hand on his chest and shaking him ever so slightly till his eyes fluttered open.

He groggily stood up making his way to the door, he pulled the handle opening it...then he stood there for a moment, his eyes widening. "What...what in sumerus name!" You quickly got off of the bed to see what the matter was...and there on his doorstep was a small twine basket. A light blue ribbon wrapped around the handle, soft blue blankets on the inside and write in the middle...a adorable baby.

You peeked outside seeing if the babies parents could be seen, but there was no one...had they really just been abandoned? You looked back down at the innocent small being, bright scared eyes staring back at you and small hands waving nervously around. "They look so scared..." You said quietly looking at Tighnari as you spoke, he only nodded in response...very carefully lifting the baby out of the basket.

You watched...awestruck, he looked so normal with a baby, his ears twitching slightly making the baby have sweet laughs, and the little ones itty bitty fingers wrapping around his gloved ones. Tighnari seemed to enjoy it too, his face slightly blushing as he did his best to calm the baby and make them laugh...you'd never seen him like this. You couldn't help but love it and wonder if maybe...that could be a future you shared with him one day...

Kazuha:

You snuggled deeper into Kazuha, his arms wrapped softly around you as the both of you laid lazily on the couch, enjoying eachothers company. You could stay there all day, in his embrace, listening as he recited poems and short stories about his travels...his voice so calming...so gentle, but sadly your time was cut short as you heard a sharp knock at the door.

"Oh...were you expecting someone?" He asked, sitting up slightly,...to your dismay. "No...not that I know of..." You bit your lip, standing up despite everything in you wanting to stay seated and quickly making your way to the door. You opened it only slightly, peering out to see who was at the door...but there was no one...untill you looked down, your eyes landing on what looked to be a handmade bassinet. Pastel purple and green ribbons lining the outside, with a soft blanket.

Most crazy though...was the small baby in the center of it all, it's teeny eyes filled with fear and the start of tears welling up in them. "What!" You pulled the door all the way open, hearing Kazuha rush to your side, the both of you staring down at innocent little one before you in utter shock. "How does this-Why would someone-Oh my gosh-!" You stuttered, unable to make a full sentence as your mind raced with thousands of thoughts and to add to the stressful situation...the welling tears started to crash down the babies face.

"Oh my..." Kazuha whispered, leaning down close to the baby and gently lifting them out of the bassinet. He held the teeny one against his chest, very softly bouncing and humming a melody you swore you'd heard before. Each movement so careful and thought out as the baby instantly started to feel at ease...there small tears drying quickly as they started to fall asleep.

Your face blushed a dark red, watching how easily he calmed the small being...how caring he was and how much the child seemed to love him...your heart couldn't help but skip a beat. It seemed so perfect...something you hadn't considered before now suddenly seemed like something you wanted so badly.

Wanderer:

(I use the nickname Scara here! Sorry this ones super long!)

You watched Scara thoughtfully, his attention focused on the thirty or so papers in front of him and his pencil tapping against the table in annoyance. You knew full well it wasn't because he didn't understand the project, in fact he probably knew more about it than most people, what actually annoyed him...was knowing he was being turned into a student of the akademiya against his own will.

You appreciated Nahida for helping him, taking care of him, but you also understood why he had such a difficult time adapting to such a new lifestyle. You wanted to support him as much as possible, so you stood up slowly as to not disturb him and went around so you were now behind his back, you wrapped you arms around from behind, being careful of his hat as to not knock it off his head.

He looked at you for a second, his expression unchanging, but you already knew he liked it otherwise he would have pushed you away by now, so you simply snuggled your face into his shoulder, your cheeks blushing slightly. For a split second you though he must have placed a kiss on your head before returning to his work...but there wasn't any way...right?

You didn't have much time to think about it as three quick knocks sounded on the door, each one loud and startling making you jump in suprise. Scara looked at you groaning slightly as he spoke, "Did you invite someone? I don't plan on socialising." You quickly shook your head backing away, you didn't speak to alot of people and no one ever came to your house even if you did.

He seemed to notice your fear, rolling his eyes in response he stood up from his chair and walked over to your door, pulling it open..."What the f-" "Scara language!" You cut him off, hurrying to the door to see what was so shocking...and there on the ground was what looked to be a fruit gathering basket. Inside was a fluffy pastel yellow blanket with smiling sunflowers on it, a handmade sunflower doll..and the cutest baby you had ever seen..

"I'm assuming...you didn't plan on having this delivered." Scara said with a sarcastic tone, his eyes searching the area for any sign of the person who had delivered the baby, but there was no one. "Of course not!...oh but they are so cute though." You smiled down at the little one, it's breathing so fast...the poor little one was scared. You reached down carefully lifting the baby out of the basket, wrapping them in their blanket and watching how Scara now stared at you.

"...should you really...touch it?" He asked, his words making you feel ever so slightly angry as you responded, "The baby isn't a it...and I'm not just going to let them sit there in the cold...scared...alone." Scaras eyes widened slightly, he knew what it was like to be thrown away...scared and alone....at least he was strong enough to bare it.

You gasped quietly as Scara gently took the baby from you, staring at the tiny being in annoyance as it's little hands played with the brim of his hat. "Ughh...it's not right that someone left you...you didn't deserve that." As he talked to the baby you could hear the hurt in his voice...and as you watched him converse with the small child...you couldn't help but smile. You never would have guessed he'd be good with children...

Xiao:

You shifted slightly under the covers, your body feeling heavier than normal, telling you to stay asleep and not leave the comfy confines of your bed. The soft pillow feeling even better than normal under your head and Xiaos arms tightly wrapped around you as he slept, his body heat making you feel warm and safe.

Alas it was not in the cards to stay in bed today as your eyes shot open, a loud knock sounding on your door, the noise making Xiao sit up right, his polearm in his hand as if he were going to attack someone if they walked into the room...he was really protective of you. "Xiao...calm down, it's okay, just a knock at the door...I have no idea who it is..." You grumbled sleepily, as you stood up stretching your muscles a bit as you walked to the door.

"Maybe I should open it...what if its someone dangerous." His voice was slightly deeper with sleep, but his bright yellow eyes were wide awake, focused on the door like it might explode if someone touches it. You couldn't help but chuckle slightly at the sight, shaking your head as you opened the door slowly, peeking your head out...

"Oh...oh my gosh!" You said in utter shock as your eyes landed on a sweet innocent face, a baby, who was staring up at you with bright sweet eyes and the cutest smile a little one could have. A soft pink blanket was wrapped around them as they laid in a woven basket, a couple toys along with what you could only assume, was a fresh bottle of milk.

You were so surprised by the tiny visitor you didn't notice that Xiao was now next to you, also staring down at the baby, his eyes holding something you had never seen before..."What should we do?" You asked quietly, your hands shaking as you looked out, attempting to see if there was anyone who could have left their baby, but there was no one...

"I...don't know. Maybe report it to the Millelith?" His words made sense, but you felt a sudden ache in your heart...you couldn't truly explain in words, it was like you wanted him to say he wanted to keep the baby. That feeling grew even more as you reached down, slowly lifting the little one up and into your arms where they held onto you tightly. "Awe...you're such a cutie!" You said as you giggled, gently tickling the baby till they made a sweet laughing noise.

Your eyes meeting Xiaos, he was staring directly at you and for a second you wondered if he should be holding the baby, you didn't have to think about it for long though. He took a step towards you, softly pulling you closer to him, your faces almost touching as he gently touched the babies cheek. "...for a mortal child...they are cute..."

Cyno:

Cyno sat next to you on the couch, in his hands a bunch of snacks and his deck of TCG cards, it was tradition for you both to play a game at least once a week. So far you had stuck to that tradition since it started and tonight would be no different as set out the dice, preparing your side of the board. "I'm gonna win this time! I can feel it!" You stated excitedly, feeling determined after your recent loss streak.

"We shall see." He also sounded determined, you could tell he was ready to play and that this was going to be a fun match. "Alright! I started first last time so this time it's your turn! Game on!" You chuckled loudly, watching intently as he took the dice, giving them a nice satisfying shake before letting them fall onto the board, their beautiful colours making you think of the elements and archons.

"And so it begins. No mercy." He sounded so silly and you absolutely loved it, his expert hands moving the cards, dealing considerable damage to your current line up while also giving himself a good set of support cards. Each one of his dice being used to the best of his advantage and his turn lasting longer than it usually did.

Just as you were about to roll for your turn, you heard a knock at the door and you hurried to get it, wanting desperately to get back to your turn and hopefully save your team from certain annihilation. You quickly pulled open the door, but suddenly you were completely knocked out of breath, the game suddenly unimportant as you stared down at the cause of the knock.

A sweet bassinet, lined with a soft pillow, a handmade baby blanket with small lion faces printed on it and a lion plushy. However none of that was what had caught you so off guard, it was the fact that inside all that cuteness...was a small baby, no older than 5 months, its face already blushed from the cold. "C-cyno!" You shouted, as you reached down picking up the bassinet carefully.

"...oh...is there something you've forgotten to tell me about?" His words held a slight sarcasm as he walked up to the two of you, softly tickling the babies chin and smiling slightly as the baby giggled. "Haha very funny. No I have no idea where they came from...or why someone would leave them on my doorstep..." You fingers gently grasped the little ones hands, they felt ice cold and so small compared to yours.

Cynos smile widened slightly as he watched you...perhaps it was time to start the game of life...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

✿Have a good day!!✿

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #tighnari headcanons #tighnari fluff #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #kazuha headcanons #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha hcs #wanderer x you #wanderer headcanons #wanderer x reader #xiao x you #xiao genshin impact #xiao fluff #xiao headcanons #xiao x reader #cyno fluff #cyno x you #cyno headcanons #cyno x reader #cyno genshin impact #cyno x gender neutral reader #xiao x gn reader

[oraclekleo]

[Pick-A-Pile]Messages for you from the cards

Hello and welcome to a short PAC of mine.

This time I’m not asking the cards about anything in particular. I allow them to deliver the kind of message they feel like you should know now.

If you struggle picking a pile, it might be that none of the messages are supposed to reach you at this moment. If you come back in a month, maybe you pick the pile instantly because then it’s gonna be the time for you to receive the message.

If in general you struggle picking piles, it might be that as well. Sometimes you are not supposed to pick one because the message is not meant for you. Keep that in mind.

Disclaimer:

All my tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only

This is a general timeless reading - take what resonates

May include mature, NSFW, 18+ or triggering content

Minors should not engage with my blog

Tarot is self-development tool (yes, even future spouse readings are self-development tools), it’s not a life manual

Whatever the cards say, you always have a freedom of choice

Never base important life decisions in solely tarot readings

Maintain moderate consumption of tarot readings, it’s like any other addiction, it becomes unhealthy when it’s too much

Masterlist: Pick-A-Pile (PAC) Masterlist

Let's Play: Tarot Games 🎲

Messages for You from the Cards

Pile 01

Cards: 2 of Cups, 10 of Swords, Ace of Coins (Tarot of Tales), 38. The Milk of the Mother Flows, 42. She is Moonlight-Shy (The Solitary Witch Oracle), Star Anise (The Herbal Tea Magic for the Modern Witch Oracle)

There’s an end of discussion leading to important decisions - it’s time to stop analysing and debating and it’s time to start working on your goals.

Relationships are nurturing and lovely, you are rewarded with the same amount of care you have put into them.

Follow your intuition but keep your eyes open - you might have a tendency to romanticise what’s actually not that good in the merciless light of reality.

Someone in your life might present themselves well but they are actually toxic for you. It’s time to show them the door.

Your manifestations are likely to come to fruition now. Whatever you have wished and manifested for will finally materialise in your world.

Meeting your soulmate or just someone very dear to you is suggested.

Now is the time to embrace your personal magick powers. The time of waiting is over, be the best version of yourself now. Devote to your craft.

Your energy is at its peak and flowing easily, your actions now will influence your future many years ahead.

It's a time of good fortune for you - you might want to play the lottery.

Pile 02

Cards: 10 of Wands, 10 of Cups, Ace of Wands (The Light Seer’s Tarot), Cheetah, Lion (The Wild Unknown Animal Spirit Oracle), Purification (Sacred Destiny Oracle)

It’s time to de-clutter, purify, clean and cleanse, sort and make space for what’s about to come. New vibrant energy can’t enter your life when it’s clogged with old, stagnant and blocking energy. Clean yourself and space around you. Eat lightly and get rid of things you don’t love anymore.

Time of abundance is ahead of you, especially if you read this in the summer season. Abundance of what you desire will come to you like a summer storm - swiftly and showering down.

Don’t waste your energy and resources. Observe and be smart with your decisions. There are battles worth fighting but there are also those you should avoid. Learn to recognize them.

Your potential and energy are endless but you need a purpose and motivation to use them well. If you are lacking any of these, take a moment to think about your ‘why’.

Your creativity is radiating and burning, you might experience an increase when it comes to brilliant ideas now.

Everything is connected. Use your intellect and imagination to see how people and situations interact. You might feel an urge to start writing a story or poem.

Finally some happiness arrived at your home’s door. You might feel blessed in the circle of your close relatives or friends, maybe celebration is at hand.

If your project or relationship becomes a tedious and tiring one, don’t lose hope and keep going. You are just about to release the burdens and reach fruition of your labour.

It might be about time for you to do something for your community. In relation to the above, you might feel called to release some content for your social media followers, or you might want to donate your old clothes to charity, or maybe you simply bake a cake for your grandma for her birthday.

Pile 03

Cards: V The Hierophant, Knight of Swords, XI Justice (The Slavic Legends Tarot), L The Ram and Dahlia, XII The Lizard and Pitcher Plant (Woodland Wardens Oracle), Hazel (The Wisdom of Trees Oracle)

Set your mental and emotional boundaries, especially when dealing with people. Some dramas have nothing to do with you, don’t waste your energy on them.

If you feel stuck or stagnant, remember the lizard's ability to let go of their tails to escape from predators. Maybe it’s time for you to drop something in order to move forward.

You are determined and focused on your goals and if you maintain like that, you can achieve whatever you want. Be headstrong and gracious at the same time and no obstacle stands a chance against you.

It’s time to establish a little more balance in your life. Which aspects take most of your attention and which ones you neglect recently?

If you are dealing with people and their dramas, remain impartial and unbiased. If you lean to any side, it will only bring more chaos to the situation. Keep a cool head.

Make meticulous plans but don’t get stuck in the planning phase. Once you are done debating, take courage and execute what you have drafted.

Ride the storm - while others hide from challenges, you should see an opportunity to shine against adversity. You have that personal power and charm to lead masses in times of crises.

You might feel the need to study, examine and evaluate rules, norms, laws or customs. Maybe you follow some traditions despite them being a burden to you. Maybe some laws are outdated and only promote injustice. It’s time to take in a bigger picture and work on improvements.

Your older friends or relatives possess wisdom. Come together at this time and learn some crucial information or skills from them. Is inflation giving a hit to your budget? Your elders might know some frugal tricks to help you. Maybe your sensitive skin doesn’t benefit from creams you buy and your grandma has some time proofed home remedy for that. Seek for long-term wisdom instead of quick hecks.

Thank you for reading!

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#tarot #tarotblr #tarot pick a pile #tarot pick a card #PAC #pac tarot #pick a pile #pick a card #pac reading #pick a pile reading #tarot community #tarot readings #love tarot free #free tarot #oracle kleo #self healing #self care

[kaedahana]

the great war.

art by @ izeichan on Twitter

late night thought; have you ever missed someone you don't... know? i do. yes, inspired by the great war by T.S <3

CHARACTER : Kaedehara Kazuha - Reader

fluff? angst?

-UNEDITED-

You and Kazuha have never been happier to spend your whole spring and summer together until that one night.

ART NOT MINE

It was summer when Kazuha and you shared a long kiss under the vast night sky. The leaves were lively green and crickets were playing both of you a lullaby. Every day that summer you wished on every star that your name and his are etched together forever in the ether. Laying on the soft blanket that you made over the spring season as you stare into each other’s eyes. Mesmerized by one another. You can see eternity in his eyes. You closed your eyes, fingers intertwined with his. You thanked the archons to be blessed with this moment. Kazuha is in your arms, safe and sound.

But of course, fate plays a cruel game and flips your whole world in a matter of days. Standing in the doorway Kazuha looked at you grimly, as he held the letter crushing it and letting it fall onto the floor.

"You can't go," you whispered. Your being brimming with resentment, sadness and fear. They threaten to take over your body and wreck everything.

"I have to, they're calling me."

"You can't go!" you run a frustrated comb through your hair with your fingers, biting your lip trying not to cry. Looking away, hoping and hoping that this is all just a dream. That when the morning comes, you're gonna wake up to Kazuha lovingly kissing you. Spinning you in his arms. There’s no war to fight in. No bloodshed. No fear.

"I have no choice"

You walked to him, "What about me? You're going to leave me behind? You expect me to be okay?!" you shouted unable to hold it any longer, you fell to his legs and broke down. You sobbed harder when you can feel the never ending tears trailing down your face. You hugged his legs and begged for your future together.

"Darling, please don't. I-I can't live like this" you said between sobs, struggling to catch your breath.

Kazuha squat down to your level and embraced you. His heartbeat speaking to you in words he can't muster.

He only held a pinkie finger. linking it with yours. He brought your head close to his heart, hearing it go faster and louder. He kissed the crown of your head, smoothing your hair with his hand.

"I'll be back, it's a promise dear. I'll fight for you, I'll live for you and if I have to… I'd die for you"

Slowly the same green vibrant leaves turned into shades of red and orange as autumn rolls around. You stared at the maple orange leaf that landed on your hand, tracing the outlines of it. Your mind goes back to Kazuha, missing the pillow soft feeling of his lips, his slightly red cheeks, and the eyes that you love. You feel an unpleasant feeling in your stomach and continue to walk around the festival so you could distract yourself. Anything to get rid of the thoughts that maybe… he's gone.

"Darling!" a voice shouted from behind you.

Immediately, you looked back. Disappointment fills you up when you didn’t see him. You run a hand across your face, missing him terribly now. The poems. The teasing. The cute names he calls you. Him.

You recalled the last letter you got from him a month ago;

My dove,

I hope this letter finds you well. You've been on my mind and never left. You're the only shining star I need in this dark world, your glow is enough to illuminate my whole world .This room is silent but I can still hear your enchanting laugh. I close my eyes yet all I see is you my darling. I'm sorry it has to be this way, I miss you a lot. I would do anything in my power to close this dreadful gap of ours and be in your arms. The fate that brings people together is not a cord so easily cut. I love you with my whole heart, soul and mind.

-yours.

Children rushed past you with huge grins across their faces, daughters and sons dancing in the streets, lanterns illuminating the path ahead of you as darkness falls into the world. Even with people around you, you feel more lonely than ever.

You walked to the forestry area, shivering as the breeze blows past you. You stuffed your hands into the pockets of your coat. You find yourself humming the song Kazuha hummed the day he comforted you when he got the letter that took him away to war.

You spotted a pond away from the town and decided to dip your legs into the water.

The water was cold and the fishes were glowing in vibrant colours. Leaves swaying across the water. Your eyes stuck to the reflection of the moon in the water. Then you talked to the stars.

“Where are you? Are you safe? What did you eat? Today... the lantern festival in town is nothing without you. I need you back, please.” you pleaded with your whole heart, wringing every bit of hope into wishes.

Then warmth wrapped you up from behind, pulling you into a comforting embrace. The scent you inhaled, it’s ever so familiar it relaxes your body

“Just as I promised, darling” a voice whispered into your ear. Your heart going fast, is this a dream?

You turned your head and there he is, Kazuha. Your star-crossed lover. Your forever. Your eternity and beyond.

Tears spilt from your eyes as you squealed and wrapped your arms around his torso. He laughed wholeheartedly as both of you fell onto the ground with you on top of him. You took in the view of your lover. Handsome as ever with his abdomen tightly wrapped in bandages while his hanten hangs loosely on his shoulder. He offered you a reassuring smile.

"Am I going crazy or are you here?" You asked unable to believe that he's here. You can feel his warm breath fanning your cheeks. You can feel his soft skin against yours. You can hear his heart beating, yearning for yours. You lay beside him, resting your head on his bandaged arm. "Are you okay?" you whispered. He just nods, staring at you with so much love and bliss.

"You're beautiful," he said under his breath before pressing his lips against yours. His lips... soft on yours as he gently places his hands on your waist pulling you closer to his body. You glide your hands across his bare chest, letting it travel freely over his abs. He tugged on your hair as you withdraw to catch your breath. He hovered on top of you with his arms trapping you. He inhaled your scent from your neck and sighed in contentment.

"I almost forgot what you feel like" 

He raised his eyebrow at this, his eyes averting to your lips.

"Then let me remind you again"

So yes, fate is a cruel game but you couldn't care less because your destiny is him and with him is your destination.

#writing #kazuha x reader #kazuha kaedehara x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha kaedara x y/n #kazuha #kazuha fluff #kazuha imagines #genshin #genshin impact #genshin kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha x y/n #genshin kazuha #genshin kazuha imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x you #fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact kazuha

[doumadono]

I'm curious about your little poems, they are really interesting! My request is sweet fluff (I don't wanna use provided prompts) and as of character, please do it with maybe Midoriya

SHONEN SONNETS

In the city of heroes, where shadows unfold, Midoriya stands, a heart pure as gold. Bearer of One For All, strength in his core, A quirk of destiny, a legacy to explore.

Born in silence, in the quiet of the night, Yet destined for greatness, his future in sight. Midoriya, a name whispered in the wind, A hero's journey about to begin.

In shadows and echoes, his struggles began, No quirk to wield, just a dream and a plan. Yet, he stood tall, his spirit unbroken, A symphony of courage, a tale left unspoken.

The echoes of All Might, a symbol so grand, A power passed on, from hand to hand. Midoriya, the inheritor of One For All, A beacon of hope, standing proud and tall.

Through battles and trials, his mettle was tested, Each obstacle faced, every challenge bested. Through victories and losses, his story unfolds, In the heart of heroism, where destiny molds.

In emerald eyes, determination glows, A silent promise of a hero who grows. From quirkless whispers to a mighty roar, Midoriya rises, an ever-burning core.

In the tapestry of struggles and strife, Midoriya carved a hero's life. From humble beginnings, he soared on high, A verdant comet streaking the sky.

So, let the stars above bear witness to his story, Midoriya, OFA's heir, in the glow of glory. In the tapestry of fate, where destinies twine, He stands as a beacon, a symbol divine.

Midoriya's story, an anthem of will, A cascade of emotions and a hero's skill. In the tapestry of heroes, he's woven with grace, Izuku Midoriya, a legend to embrace.

#doumadonos shonen sonnets 🌸 #my poetry #poems on tumblr #short poetry #my poems #spilled ink #poems and poetry #mha poems #izuku midoriya #mha midoriya #deku #midoriya fluff #deku fluff #izuku midoryia #mha fluff #bnha izuku

[actual-bill-potts]

Talking with the Hobbits who had come to live on Tol Eressëa, Finrod found, was often a delight, always interesting, occasionally discomfiting.

Take for instance his fairly mild assertion that the noble cabbage, as a vegetable, could be improved upon. He was met with twin glares so fierce he was surprised he didn’t burn to ash then and there, and had to surreptitiously check his hair for burnt ends. Then he was plied with recipes that prominently featured cabbage, and not allowed to speak on any other subject until he had meekly promised to try at least five separate dishes which the Hobbits promised to prepare with their own hands.

So he had that to look forward to.

But they were very wise in the way mortals were wise, practiced in the art of letting go, embracing the joy of impermanence. Sitting with them, hearing the histories and legends of their people, was a rare pleasure; and hearing the tales of his own people from their mouths brought new meaning to the old, old words. The Tale of Fingon and Maedhros, for instance, was not tainted for them by knowledge of future horrors. It was simply a love story. Bilbo had written a poem about it; and when he recited it in his quavering voice, Finrod was moved to tears twice over: in admiration for a love that had - however briefly - conquered all evil, and for his cousins who had been so long dead.

When Bilbo came to the end of the poem, Frodo let out a long sigh. “I love that story,” he said in his light high voice. “It was my favorite when I was a tween.”

Bilbo looked at him in surprise. “It was? You never mentioned.”

A tinge of color touched Frodo’s cheeks. “No, well, I suppose I wouldn’t have at that,” he said. “It took several years after I had passed my majority for me to admit why I loved the story so much - and by then you were off in Rivendell, bothering Elrond with your impudent poetry no doubt!”

“Impudent!” said Bilbo laughing. “Well, perhaps; but he never said a word about it. That was all his stuffy advisors; and Estel of course - but he teased me for everything. Talk of impudence! I could not remark on the sun’s rising but he must say his piece about how Hobbits are so near the ground they must see the dawn well before Men and Elves, or some such rot.”

Finrod joined them in laughter. “Who was Estel?” he asked curiously. “He sounds very like Elros. For all his majesty, he could not resist offering me a step-stool whenever I greeted him, that I might look him in the eye - and I was a mere hand-span shorter than him! He took far too much delight in being taller than an Elda.”

Bilbo chuckled. “You’re more right than you know, lad; Estel is none other than Aragorn Elessar Telcontar, your - I suppose he would be grand-nephew-in-law? - and King of Gondor and Arnor in Middle-earth.”

“Really?” Finrod said in surprise. “Why was he called Estel?”

Bilbo blinked. “Has Elrond not told you?”

“I doubt Elrond has wished to speak of those days much, while the grief is so near,” Frodo said gently.

Bilbo nodded. “True enough; well then, I will tell the story,” and he told the tale of how Arathorn son of Arador had been cruelly slain when his son Aragorn was yet young, and all that followed. Some of it Finrod had heard from Elrond, and others who had come from Rivendell; but other parts of the story, such as Gilraen’s words to Elrond, were new and moved him greatly.

“High is the valor of the Edain!” he said when Bilbo had finished speaking. “They have proven it in every Age; and the Edenith no less than the Edain.”

“Yes,” said Bilbo dryly, “there are many poems to that effect, I believe. I have even composed one myself - if you count Eärendil as a Man, of course. Accounts differ.” He turned to Frodo. “But you, my lad, have not yet explained why you loved the Tale of Fingon and Maedhros so much!”

Frodo met his eyes. “Can you not guess, Uncle?”

Bilbo held his gaze for a moment; then he chuckled. “I suppose I can, at that! What a very eligible bachelor you were, for far too many years. Ah, I am sorry, Nephew.”

Frodo laughed; then sighed. “No need to apologize! How were you to know, when I did not see it myself for so long? In any case, it would not have made a difference. The Ring took all of that from me. Perhaps it was better that I was not encouraged -” he stopped. “Well! Never mind.” He looked over at Finrod. “I am sorry, Zir; we are getting into personal matters. I will leave off the reminiscing, and we will talk of happier things.”

(That was another thing that delighted Finrod about the Hobbits: they had given him another name! They called him Zir, the Wise - or so he was assured - in their own tongue. “We cannot let the Men and Dwarves get ahead of us,” Bilbo had said, upon being introduced to Finrod, “may I call you Zir? That way you can complete the set, and be called wise in every tongue.”

“Besides, he is at least twice the size of our Samwise,” Frodo had added, laughing; and although Finrod did not quite understand the connection between Samwise and Zir he was too delighted by the name to inquire further.)

But his friend was not laughing now. Finrod said gently, “You need not, if your heart is troubled. I am happy to listen.”

“Well - perhaps not now,” Frodo said, glancing slightly at his uncle; and Finrod nodded. He did not wish to grieve the old Hobbit; and he turned the conversation down happier paths with the ease of one who had once sat between Elu Thingol and Angrod at table.

But later, when he was getting up to leave, he looked into Frodo’s eyes which were so sad and tired for all their wisdom, and said on impulse, “Frodo, would you like to look at the stars with me for awhile? And Bilbo too, of course,” he added, for politeness’ sake; but Bilbo looked at the both of them from under his white brows and said, “I am too old for such Elvish nonsense! You go on, and I shall stay beside my cozy fire,” and if his eyes were full of rue they were also laughing in the way of mortals.

Finrod offered his arm to Frodo; and they went out through the little gate and settled upon a bench. Frodo tipped his head back and gazed at the Valacirca, face solemn. There were not yet many threads of silver in his hair; but the stars caught the edges of his curls and crowned him with such light that he could have been silhouetted against the vessel of Tilion.

Finrod sat quietly beside him, feeling the stars kiss his own forehead; and after a moment Frodo spoke.

“I have come into the uttermost West,” he said, “and I have been healed in body; but not even the Valar can remove the touch of the Shadow.”

“Yes,” said Finrod sadly. “If they could, much evil might have been undone.”

“Or not!” Frodo said. “Perhaps greater evil might have come from such absolute power. Or so I tell myself, anyway.”

Finrod nodded; then he asked, “Was it frowned upon, to be - as you were - in your homeland?”

Frodo laughed a little. “To look upon lads with desire, rather than lasses? It was not frowned upon, exactly; but it was not mentioned in polite company either. I was considered strange enough already without adding to my list of peculiarities!”

Puzzled, Finrod asked, “Why should you be considered strange?”

Frodo looked at him, seeming a little bemused. “You do not hesitate to place your finger on the center of a sore, do you?”

“I am sorry!” Finrod exclaimed. “I have been scolded for that since before the Sun rose; and yet I continue to - “ he paused - “put my nose where it is not wanted, as I am told they say in the Shire.”

Frodo chuckled. “It is quite alright! I was mostly teasing you; you are extraordinarily blunt for one of the Eldar.”

“I am told it is very charming,” said Finrod, hoping it was true.

“Well - perhaps! But anyway, you might as well ask why I was not considered odd; the list would be shorter. I was an orphan, and raised mostly by the Brandybucks - who are quite the wild family - and then by Bilbo, who was an eccentric old bachelor who loved to tell stories and was rumored to have bags upon bags of gold in his hobbit-hole.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Finrod said sincerely. “It is difficult to lose a parent.”

“Thank you!” said Frodo. “I miss them every day, though I have not seen them since I was a faunt; my mother loved poetry, though she did not often write it, and my father loved to listen to her - or so I am told…but I am losing the thread. Scholars and scribes are not looked upon with particular favor in the Shire; and I was both! Besides which, I went on far too many walks, and did not eat enough, and was rather sickly as a child.”

Finrod blinked at the list. “Your homeland sounds a bit peculiar,” he remarked.

“Peculiar you might say; close-minded is another word,” said Frodo, “or simple, even. But I loved it all the same.”

“I can understand that,” said Finrod, thinking of the foolish Elves who had once dueled in the streets of Tirion in the days before the Darkening, and how he had mourned its shining walls and soaring towers for so long.

“Sauron got his hands on it before the end,” Frodo continued, “or rather Saruman did; and much of its innocence is gone, and with it a great deal of the prejudice that has long plagued it. I am - not sure I prefer it so. I had rather be laughed at, than treated so gravely; muttered about than reverenced; particularly so when I did not do much to deserve it.”

“Did you not?” said Finrod, thinking of a laita te, laita te at the end of Frodo of the Nine Fingers - for Galadriel had given him the music at once.

“I bore the Ring of Sauron,” said Frodo, “for eighteen years. Perhaps the greatest claim to heroics I have is that for seventeen of those years, while the Ring only stirred in its sleep, I behaved - decently. But the Lay does not sing of that!” He sighed. “It was wholly evil. It sought only to dominate, to grasp and whatever it might lay hands on. My hands. I thought - for so long, I thought - I am terribly depraved, I am wicked, I must be careful - I could not see a lovely lad, or even a lass, without wanting to devour them whole, I could not catch the glint of coin without thinking that ought to be mine: and I did not give in, but the evil seeped in anyway. So you see I did not really win.”

“I don’t see how you didn’t,” said Finrod; but only half his mind was on his words. The rest was thinking, in horrified fascination, of what it must have been to hold Sauron’s soul close for seventeen years. How had Frodo not gone mad?

Frodo must have seen some of what passed in his thought, for he said, “My - friends were always there. They lifted me up; reminded me what it was to laugh. Without them I would have been lost. Merry, and Pippin, and above all Sam.”

Finrod was silent; and after a moment Frodo continued, “It was almost a relief, when I was stabbed upon Weathertop; for I felt the chill of Sauron’s hand on me and it was familiar. The evil had not come from me, after all - or at least not wholly.

“And yet, with all this experience - wise by experience, my name means - I looked upon the Ring of Sauron, there in the wasteland that was Mordor, and I desired it. I still do; and its shadow lies upon my heart. I lost so utterly that there could be no recovery. Yet it is of this moment that the bards sing.”

Finrod said, “I know a little of having one’s greatest failure memorialized in song; but I cannot see failure in your actions. It seems to me,” he continued, “that a great violation was visited upon you, and that despite this terrible wound you traveled to the Dread Lands; and that by daring to set your strength against an Enemy who could have crushed you with a thought you won the freedom of all peoples. No Fingolfin are you, with mighty Ringil! Yet you came to the Black Gates nonetheless.”

He was a little in awe. Seventeen years! Of course Sauron had not been at his full strength then; but Finrod had spent only a month in the dungeons of Tol-in-Gaurhoth and he had been weary and sick at heart when he arrived in the Halls. And Sauron had not brought his full strength to bear against him anyway, after that one moment when their Songs clashed and Sauron’s had proven the greater.

Frodo had looked up sharply when Finrod began to speak. He said, “A failure! You would consider your part in the Lay of Leithian a failure?”

“My part,” said Finrod, observing the Lay with an academic eye, “narratively speaking, is to represent someone who died in chains. A fine contrast to Beren and Lúthien, no doubt!”

“You broke your chains,” Frodo pointed out.

“Ah! The shackles of immortality; those are what remained. It is even mentioned in the Lay, I believe; Finrod walks with his father Finarfin…well, I do! I cannot deny it! And in doing so, I am the anti-Lúthien: the one who did not break his chains after all.”

“Is that how you interpret it?” Frodo exclaimed. His academic nature was clearly getting the better of him. “I have always thought that you were free, at the end: free of your Oath, and the literal chains that bound you.” Then he blushed. “I am sorry! It is easy to forget that the Lay is not only a legend! It is not right to speak so.”

Finrod was slightly amused, and deeply touched. “That is very kind of you! But I do not mind it; King Felagund, who lived under the hills, is long gone. He belongs to the singers and the poets. I remember my friends Beren and Lúthien, who were young and kind; and I am glad they are loved by so many.”

“That is very strange to me!” Frodo said, “I cannot quite regard my own Lay with that kind of detached interest.”

“Yours was not written two Ages ago,” said Finrod, thinking of the first time he had heard Release from Bondage. It had - hurt. He had been glad for the chance to accord Beren and Lúthien honor; but would have happily cut himself out of the song altogether.

He grew serious. “But it was a failure. If you wish to see what true failure looks like, Cormacolindo, look to the Lay! My people rejected me; then I set my strength against Gorthaur, there in the tower I had built, and lost; if I broke free, it was too late to save any but Beren; and I - I died with my hands yet bound.”

Frodo’s face was filled with compassion; and his gaze was far away. “Sauron’s strength is great,” he whispered, “and his will is all in dominion.” Then he seemed to come back to himself. “You know,” he said, meeting Finrod’s gaze now, “I thought of you often in the Black Lands. I did not know you, of course; but I thought of the golden Elven-king who had battled Sauron and fell. It was a - comfort, of sorts. If I fell to the Ring at last, I would be in illustrious company. And then I did; it took me, body and soul.”

Finrod felt something approaching rage fill him at the thought of Sauron laying a hand on this mortal, who was so frail and small. Then Frodo smiled, seeming to catch the thought. Those bottomless eyes glinted; and as through a glass inverted, Finrod saw a strength of will so fierce and indomitable it took his breath away. Defeated this one had been at the last; but he had not come to the fight unarmed.

Frodo looked away, up to the stars again. “I still long for it,” he said quietly. “I gave up the world for it once, and I know in my heart that if it were before me again my hand would reach out, whether by my will or no. The Shadow is on me.”

“That may be,” said Finrod, “but it was not your fault that you were - violated in such a way. I know a little of such,” he added very softly.

Frodo shrugged. “My fault or no, I will carry it until I die. But the burden is perhaps lighter shared.” 

His eyes were tired; they reflected the stars. He smiled suddenly. “I thank you, you who have been named Nóm by Men, Angolodh by Elves, Zir by Hobbits! My heart becomes merry in your company.”

“I am glad,” said Finrod, “for mine is certainly in yours! I am told this is a common side effect of Hobbits!”

Frodo laughed. “Gandalf did not tell you that, surely? He is of the opinion that we are the primary cause of head-aches in Middle-earth, I believe.”

“No,” said Finrod smiling, “it was Elrond. He is quite fond of you.”

“He is quite fond of Bilbo, you mean,” said Frodo. “I cannot imagine why!”

“Can you not?” said Finrod, amused. “Elrond is quite fond of ingrates, I have noticed.”

Frodo swung around in shock, grinning. “Why, Zir, that was quite unkind of you! An insult worthy of a Hobbit Common-room! I had not imagined you had it in you.”

“I am full of surprises,” said Finrod. “You ought to invite me over for tea more often.”

“I think I will!” said Frodo. He rose slowly. “And now I think I had better get to bed. The stars cannot sustain me as they do you - to my everlasting regret!”

Hobbit and Elf parted at the gate, Frodo to bed and Finrod to the winding path down the hill. He took the path to the shoreline, seeing as he did so the light of Eärendil shining upon the ocean.

He was singing as he walked. 

#silm fic #my fic #finrod #frodo #bilbo

[teaah-art]

Desi LGBT Fest 2023 (hosted by @desi-lgbt-fest)

Day 7 : Faith/Rituals of Love

Definitely geared heavily towards the 'Faith' part of this prompt as soon as I read it!

If being Queer is defying conventions and if being a part of the Queer community means going against heteronormativity and gender conformity, is it not Queer to forego materialistic ties and the love of a human partner and embrace the love of a greater being you have only heard about in stories?

All four individuals featured here were integral part of the Bhakti Movement and/or Sufism in South Asia. None were married other than Meerabai.

(Panel order from top to bottom)

Chaitanya Mahaprabhu (1486-1534) : A key name of the Bhakti Movement and the Gauriya Vaishnav tradition in 15th Century Bengal, Chaitanya Mahaprabhu was believed to have been a vessel for both Radha and Krishna. Bengali doesn't use pronouns or gendered language and we may never know what they would have preferred to be identified as in a language they didn't know (English), I will simply resort to using They/Them for them. Their written teachings are few and far between but the verse mentioned here is the seventh verse of the only written record of their teachings, the Shikshastakam - a collection of 8 total verses. The translation here is my own and quite literal so that the interpretation is left to the reader.

Meerabai (1498-1597) : [CW : IMPLIED QUEERPHOBIA/APHOBIA] Meerabai was born into Rajput royalty and was married off, also to Rajput royalty, in likely an arranged marriage. While most of the stories surrounding her are folklore whose historicity is yet to be confirmed, her marital status can be confirmed, and so can her devotion and affection for Krishna and the divine, which she has herself penned in numerous poems and songs. Folklore does strongly imply that she was non-committal to her marriage and that her in-laws tried to poison her to death multiple times for it.

Kabir (1398–1448 or 1440–1518) : Found as an orphan by a Muslim weaver couple, Kabir's religion grew to become somewhat of an enigma for future generations. His stance, however, on the topic romance and marital relationships is quite clear - he looked down upon them and a huge chunk of his couplets strongly imply that romantic and sexual relations simply obstruct spiritual enlightenment.

Bulleh Shah (1680-1757) : Bulleh Shah, though an ardent proponent of loving the divine, was declared a Kafir, a non-believer/non-Muslim by a quite a few Muslim clerics of the time. He was known for speaking up against existing power hierarchies of the time and used vernacular speech for his writings (Punjabi, Sindhi) which not only served to popularize his works, but also let people connect to his words.

A personal note on my motivations under the cut.

A while back when I was actively going through the anxiety of finding out that I am ace and that I will never fit into the current South Asian society that the wedding industry has a chokehold on, I desperately wanted to see people from my own culture living happily without a partner. During one of my history rabbit hole escapedes, I restumbled upon the story of Meerabai, how she always insisted on loving and devoting herself towards Krishna, despite being married into a normative and wealthy household and despite her in-laws repeatedly attempting to poison her for not committing to her husband. Most of us from India grow up hearing about Meerabai, her spiritual connections to Krishna, and her struggles. The moral of those stories is always framed as 'believe in god, he will help you through tough times'. But this was the first time I was making a different connection, I was drawing different morals. And when I took Meerabai's non-conformity to her married life and started looking for more examples like hers, I was overwhelmed by how many more individuals existed without a partner, condemned being in a normative, married relationship, admitted to having lost human connections and faced resistance even, and yet stayed true to their orientation and sounded HAPPY! It was extremely hard to narrow it down to these four, but these do make my point! Labels are hard to transpose across cultures and history. But if being queer means being nonconforming of marital structures and being aspec/arospec implies neutrality, indifference, or aversion to romance and intercourse, then no one fits the label if they don't.

#desilgbtfest23 #desi lgbt #desi lgbtq fest #long post #pride 2023 #pride #original art #my art #meerabai #meera bai #sant kabir #kabir #kabirdas #bullehshah #bulleh shah #chaitanya mahaprabhu #bhakti movement #sufism #sufi #tw implied aphobia #tw mild aphobia #tw implied homophobia #btw if someone notices errors in my Shahmukhi or Gurumukhi on the Bulleh Shah illustration pls let me know #I do not speark or read or write Punjabi and I copied