Would They Choose You Over The World?

would they choose you over the world?

aether (traveler), dainsleif, scaramouche, raiden ei, lumine (abyss), venti, xiao x gn!reader

AETHER thinks he can save both, no, he knows he can. The powers of this world rests at the tip of his fingertips. He’s faced monsters and gods and come out alive and better than he was before. There’s no reason to hesitate, none whatsoever to consider his decision but—but. He has never been made to choose before. There was always another way, another choice, another something he could rely on. It’s a moral dilemma, like the situation with the train where you either save five people and kill one person, or kill five people to save one person. It’s easy enough to answer when it was simply that—a moral dilemma created to confuse him, not a world ending decision that lies on his shoulders. To choose one is to doom the other. Most people would choose the world, but while Aether is called a hero and the savior of nations, he is also a person. He looks at your resigned smile, like you already know which one he’ll choose, and he decides to prove you wrong.

DAINSLEIF clings to loss like a dying man does to the edge of a cliff. The inevitability of death and your mortality rests on his shoulders much like weight of his entire nation’s death. He wonders what it says about him that he’d rather have you safe and sound than have the world be saved. Five hundred years of aimless wandering, fighting against the remnants of his fallen nation and watching the world move on while he remains untouched by time, the ghost of a past that can never be returned to. Dainsleif isn’t a hero, he’s tired. All that’s left of him are fading memories of a time gone by and moments with you that he clings to like a lifeline. What has this world ever done for him except cause him pain needless grief? What has it done to deserve his sacrifice? Nothing. And so he rests, hand in hand with you on withering grass and waits for the world to end. At least, this time, he won’t be alone in watching the heavens descend.

SCARAMOUCHE laughs, and laughs, and laughs until he’s sure even the gods that reside in Celestia has heard the scorn and mockery in his voice. It is so laughably easy to choose you and denounce the world. Let it be turned to ash and dust, let his body dance on top of a desolate world, let him pull you in an embrace and delight in the fact that no sun and no light (for none of these exist anymore) would ever outmatch the brightness in your eyes, the smile on your face, the tinkling sound of your laughter amidst the remains of a world that once threatened to snuff your life like a candle left in the dark. He is like a flame and you, the spark. There’s a tsunami gathering on the horizon, threatening to drown everything in its wake, but instead of preventing it, he revels in the ruin it will bring. It is either your death alone or yours and everyone else, and if you have to die either way, then he will die with you and drag the rest of the world along in his self-appointed destruction. You taught him what it felt to no longer be alone, so he will make sure you’re never lonely, even in death.

EI feels weightless, like a leaf adrift in the wind. It feels like she is back to that moment five hundred (a thousand) years ago, a dilemma, a decision, a choice—follow Makoto to Khaenri’ah, or defend her people from the monsters ravaging the lands? There was uncertainty there, a small seedling of hope that she would arrive not far from Makoto and see her sister alive and waiting, and so she had made the decision to stay—but this? Faced with an ultimatum, the world or your death, Ei finds that the decision is much more difficult, much more devastating but no less heartbreaking. Had it been before, in her lonesome at the Plane of Euthymia, the choice would have been easy, barely a thought in her mind, but everything has changed and Ei wants, in a way she has never wanted before, to be with you. You with your smiles and your laughs and the warmth you induce in her frigid heart—and she finds that she cannot make a choice… so you do it for her. For the greater good.

LUMINE doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even flinch before she turns her back to the world and takes your hand. What good is the world if you’re not there in it? She won’t just stand by and watch as everything she holds dear is destroyed in front of her—not anymore. There is you, there is her, and there is the world burning, and Lumine finds that she can hardly care. Her heart has no place for faceless people, no love left for a world that has done nothing but spurn and trample on everything she had offered. Let it burn if it means having one more second, one more minute, one more lifetime with you. A choice isn’t truly a choice if the other option was never considered, and she will never consider a world without you. There are millions, billions, countless other worlds out there she could take you to. Damn this place, damn the heavens, and damn the consequences. Her brother would understand, he always has, and when Lumine meets him again in a new world, she’ll make sure to introduce you to him.

VENTI wants, like Icarus yearning for the Sun, but Venti is Venti, and Barbatos is Barbatos. Right now, he cannot afford to be that carefree bard who spun tales of your lovely hair and lovelier still lips (cannot be Icarus who flew too close to the sun and fell). Venti wants—but Barbatos knows the best option, the best choice, the least devastating one but the most heart-wrenching one. The situation is funny, laughable, hilarious, really, the kind that makes his stomach ache and brings tears to his eyes that drip down his cheeks and onto the ground and—oh, he’s crying. He’s crying and holding you close and apologizing, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness, doesn’t deserve the hand carding through his hair and the soft press of your lips on his forehead as you murmur, don’t cry, it’s alright, you’re doing the best you can. But the best means not doing this at all, the best means not having to make a choice at all, the means means not having to say goodbye. It’s okay, you tell him, I forgive you. But he never forgives himself.

XIAO thinks there must be another way, there has to be another way. He won’t accept this, won’t allow himself to choose between losing you or losing everything, because he knows, deep down, that the choice has already been made and it is not the the one he wants. But he knows better than most that doing what he wants isn’t always what is needed, that certain sacrifices must be made despite his unwillingness, despite his entire body protesting against it. Rex Lapis once told him that being a god means making difficult decisions. If this is what it means to be a god, then he will accept a life of service, a life of war and fighting and breathing like every second is his last—because pain and suffering are infinitely better than having to wake everyday without your voice by his ear, giggling about how you finally caught him asleep. A world without your light, without your presence, without you is a desolate one. There must be another way, another sacrifice to be made that doesn’t involve you. Just—anything, anyone but you. Even if it has to be him.

— FORELSKET: EUPHORIC FIRSTS.

(noun.) FORELSKET: the euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love— the dopamine you acquire when you’re enamored, a fleeting feeling of pure and utter joy.

CHARACTERS. furina/focalors, lyney, lynette, freminet, ayato, wanderer & neuvillette.

CW. REPOST bc it wasn’t showing in tags, possibly ooc (fontaine characters), written BEFORE fontaine’s release, non-established relationships, this was written at 1 in the morning, not proofread, 1.3k words.

EXTRA. this was inspired by our dearest @/seelestia <3 (psst, hi lia!! i finally wrote something sxjksjsj 🩵)

GENRE. fluff, with bits of angst (depending on the character)

WANTING, NEEDING YOUR PRESENCE ALL THE TIME.

FURINA first realizes she’s in love when she finds herself wanting, no.. needing your presence all the time. You were one of the only people who could handle her ‘hysterics’, a trait only the most worthy people could have (in Neuvillette’s words). Whenever she stands in the courtroom, a part of her wishes you were there, with you around— the trials are a little less boring and a little more tolerable. Whenever she eats all on her lonesome, she wishes you were across from her table; waiting to ask her how her day went and receiving nothing but complaints of how uninteresting the latest trial was. Whenever you two take a stroll around Fontaine, much to her dismay, she feels at ease— not because of the sights of the nation she rules over, she’s seen them countless times; but because of the sight of you.

Any moment spent with you couldn’t be wasted on such monotonous activities such as taking a mere stroll around the city you were both accustomed to. The fleeting feeling she absolutely refused to acknowledge, the way her heart hammered in her chest, it all left her unsure. As soon as you came into view, the only thing she ever thought about was to stay beside you as long as she could.

OUT OF EVERYONE, I WANT YOUR EYES SPECIFICALLY ON ME.

Having all eyes on him, something LYNEY had grown used to, the attentiveness of the crowd, and the people who fall for his charms during each and every show. But, how is it that whenever he spots you, he has the urge to be even more spontaneous than he normally is? How is it that whenever you came into view, he tried a little harder to please the audience? Well, he was secretly hoping that you would be as pleased as the rest of them.

Even outside of his performances, he craves your attention, he craves for you to notice him. A small compliment from you on one of his magic tricks, and it leaves his heart fluttering. He had a mission, to impress you enough for you to potentially fall for him, or moreover, to impress you enough for you to see how captivated he was by you. A flame of determination in his eyes was evident in the way he declared that you’ll be even more amazed by what he had up his sleeves next. The next time he spotted you among the spectators, he sent a wink in your direction— and a performance that had you dazzled. After all, what is a magician if not an expert in stealing hearts?

WHAT’S IT LIKE? HAVING THE ATTENTION OF SOMEONE YOU LOVE?

Being the lowest-profile Magician's Assistant in the land came with its perks, with the absolute majority of their audience being more interested in her older brother than her. So when LYNETTE is faced with someone whose attention was solely placed on her, she has no idea what to do. The only thing she could think of was to shut you out like the others who have tried to attract her attention before. Unfortunately for her, you were persistent.

She even grew accustomed to your questions after a performance; from answering in at max, five-word sentences, to her answering them in complete detail with a blank expression. The warmth in her chest whenever you seemed almost flabbergasted at how no one seemed to be very interested in her, left her awake at night sometimes. Even her brothers noticed the small glint of light in her eyes whenever you came into her sights, though she refused to speak about it. The two noticed how a light cherry-red tinted her cheeks, almost unnoticeable, that only appeared when you were nearby. Her frequent small smiles were unbelievably rare, but they came so naturally when it came to you.

UTTERLY NERVOUS WHEN IT COMES TO YOU, IT’S A SIGN.

To pique FREMINET’S interest, you had to be patient and understanding with him. Much like his older sister, the young diver prefers to be out of the limelight. It was worse when others couldn’t respect that, with interviewers or just random strangers bombarding him with questions not even relating to his line of work, but that of his siblings. He wouldn’t have been able to stand it on his own, but you were there with your eyes narrowed— almost protective, making his breathing almost unsteady. You never pried into his personal life, knowing well how difficult it was for him to open up. You knew what questions made him uncomfortable, and which ones he was okay with answering, and the way he looked a little happier when you showed genuine interest in his profession made you proud to know you were doing something right.

He found himself admiring you, adoring you, and loving you. You already knew how timid he was, but you felt as if he was more nervous around you than anyone else. You pondered for a while whether you had done something wrong, but everyone around you knows that is far from the truth.

MAKING EXCUSES TO SEE YOU, WHILE YOUR NAME SLIPS HIS MOUTH.

KAMISATO AYATO knew he was smitten the moment he realized he was constantly making excuses to see you. You captured his attention, and even he wasn’t exactly sure how or even when it happened. The amount of times your name slipped out of his mouth while talking to Ayaka, was embarrassing, to say the least. You never cared about the fortunes of the Kamisato Clan, but even so, you knew he had his guard up during your first few interactions. How he gracefully appeared before you, with you taking it as merely a chance meeting when all of it was already planned in his head like a movie.

The first time Thoma had pointed out his ‘strange behavior’ before apologizing profusely for “butting into his business”, Ayato couldn’t find it in him to deny any of his retainer’s claims. You were awe-striking, so much so that whenever your name was mentioned anywhere— a small smile appeared on his features, illuminating what he desperately wanted to hide, his heart.

STUCK IN DENIAL AS HE BECOMES DEFENSIVE.

It became clear to everyone but the WANDERER that he felt this way towards you, or so they thought. He never gave it away clearly, but it was his defensive mechanism when it came to you that revealed it. He denied any claims, questions, his frown growing deeper when he even thought about it. Others thought of it as him dismissing you completely, but he thought of it as protecting the friendship you both cherished.

Nahida was the only one who understood his train of thought, with how desperately he held onto each moment you spent with him, she knew it was bound to come to this someday. It was rare, but at times she found him sitting under a tree— the corners of his lips turned slightly upwards as he reminisced to himself. Of course, if she made any outright claim, even if she read his mind and told him what he was thinking— he would deny it instantly. He held onto that flicker of flame in his chest so dearly, one that burned brighter when you came close.

OBSERVING YOU WAS ONCE MY DUTY, NOW IT’S HOW I LEARN ABOUT YOU.

Even those who eyed the Chief of Justice constantly wouldn’t be able to tell, but NEUVILLETTE was observing you from afar. He knew he had better things to do than to stare at you as you shop, but that thought never stopped him before. It was his job to observe you, to make sure you weren’t doing anything that would bring harm to the nation of justice. Right now, however, it wasn’t as much of doing his job as it was of him simply learning about you and your daily activities. Ever since you first stepped foot in Fontaine, he was observing your every move. At first, it was because a few people found your presence suspicious, but then he took a small interest in you— and even went as far as to strike up a conversation or two with you.

Your smile entranced him instantly, and before he knew it, his mind began to cloud with thoughts of you. It was almost contagious, the corners of his mouth turning upwards at the sight— though only a little. He picked up on every little thing with observation alone. Your favorite things, hobbies, dislikes, he found himself growing to learn them all. The Chief of Justice was loved by many, but now he has learned to love another.

© this work is created by @focarina. do not plagiarize, translate, repost to any sites nor claim as yours.

𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔, and his friends always tease him about it.

Eren and his boys—Jean, Connie, and Armin—spent four days together in Miami, Florida. It was a much needed trip, and each of them wanted to focus solely on spending money, having fun, and meeting beautiful women.

Except Eren.

He enjoyed ziplining over pools, drinking at clubs, going to the beach, and eating nearly all of the complimentary hotel breakfast food with Connie by his side, who started stuffing fruits and cups of cereal—with no milk, as he forgot, of course—into his clothes once the staff told him breakfast would end in ten minutes.

Even so, as he sat in the hotel’s dining area that had a light aroma of stale coffee and sunscreen, he missed you desperately.

Armin, who sat down at the little table across from Eren with his muffin, fruit, and eggs, could tell that his best friend was upset by the way he stirred his own scrambled eggs around on his plate, but not actually eating them.

“Don’t worry,” Armin looked up at his friend after taking a sip of his orange juice—Armin loved hotel orange juice, and Eren hated it—and the blue-eyed boy flashed a reassuring smile. “We’re going home tomorrow, so you’ll get to see her soon.”

“Yeah,” Eren mumbled.

“Maybe you could FaceTime her before we leave for the day,” Armin suggested. After all, jet skiing and scuba diving were on the agenda, and he truly wanted Eren to enjoy it.

“I already talked to her twenty minutes ago,” Eren sighed, slouching back in his chair. “It only made me miss her even more. She has a new hairstyle and everything.”

“Eren,” Armin slowly chewed on a strawberry as he blinked. “It’s only been a few days.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Eren pinched the bridge of his nose, and that’s when Connie and Jean joined them at their table.

“Guess what,” Connie grinned, placing two packed plates of food on the table. “They said we can sit here and eat as long as we want even after they stop serving breakfast, but we just can’t go back for seconds.”

“Connie grabbed every fucking thing he saw,” Jean frowned, grabbing a seat next to Armin.

“Hell yeah,” Connie picked up a grape, tossing it at Jean’s head. “So don’t be shy, grab whatever you want and eat up!”

“Don’t throw the grapes,” Armin said. “They’re delicious, so try not to waste them.”

“Loosen up, will you?” Jean frowned, breaking his hash brown into pieces before diving right in.

“I’ll loosen up once I know everything’s going according to plan,” Armin paused. “I mean, someone has to make sure we’re on schedule. It’s our last day here, so if we miss something, we won’t get another chance to do it.”

“The hell does that have to do with throwing grapes?” Connie said, earning a laugh from Jean.

Jean ruffled Armin’s blonde hair. “Don’t worry, we know you love the beach. We’re not gonna miss anything, alright? So just relax.”

“Right,” Armin smiled softly, “sorry.”

For a moment, everyone ate their food and engaged in somewhat polite chatter about today’s planned events.

“Alright, so we have our entire morning and afternoon planned,” Jean paused. “What are we doing tonight?”

Armin took that opportunity to bring the one silent member at their table into the conversation.

“Eren, is there anything you wanna do?”

“Yeah. Pack.”

And with that, Eren left the table, tossing his uneaten food in the garbage before heading back to the hotel room.

“Damn it, Connie,” Jean frowned. “I told you to let the guy bring his girlfriend.”

Connie tossed his arms up defensively, swallowing his food before he said, “go to Hell.”

—

As the day went on, Eren managed to have a bit of fun with his friends. Even so, as he swam with colorful fish and zoomed across the sea, a tingle of pain would shoot through his heart whenever he remembered that you weren’t with him, experiencing all of the bucket-list worthy adventures by his side.

As the group headed home in Jean’s SUV, Eren sat in the backseat besides Connie. He pressed his head against the foggy window, looking out at the orange streetlights passing by.

“Eren,” Connie fought back a laugh, pulling his phone out to record the pouting man. “Why are you acting like you’re in a R&B music video right now?”

“Shut up, Constance.” Eren effortlessly tossed his hand out and smacked Connie’s tattooed arm.

Connie quickly ended the recording.

“I’m gonna drop Eren off first,” Jean said, gripping the steering wheel as he made a left turn, “I really think he might die if he doesn’t get to Y/N soon.”

“Turn left again,” Armin said, directing Jean from the passenger seat. “But guys, leave him alone. Y/N’s lovely. None of us can understand what he’s going through because the three of us are single.”

“Thank you, Armin,” Eren said.

Eren folded his arms across his chest, continuing to sulk like a kid who just had their favorite toy taken away.

But, once Jean turned down a familiar street, the depressed man instantly perked up.

“You’re grinning like a toddler, dude,” Connie teased, but Eren ignored him, gripping the door handle tightly.

Jean tugged on his hat, slowing down as he pulled up in front of your home. However, before Jean could come to a complete stop, Eren started to jump out of the car.

“Eren! Be careful!” Armin warned as Jean slammed on the brakes. His warning was utterly useless, as Eren was already halfway through your front yard by the time the words fell from Armin’s lips.

“You forgot your bags!” Jean shouted, rolling down his window. “Didn’t shut my damn door, either.”

Suddenly, you opened your front door, having heard all of the commotion outside. And when you smiled, all of Eren’s friends could easily see why he was so in love with you.

Eren nearly knocked you over once he finally made it into your arms, a big smile spreading across that beautiful face of his. He showered your forehead and cheek with kisses as he inhaled your comforting scent.

“I missed you so much,” he said.

“I can tell,” you teased, hugging the tall man back. “I missed you too.”

He pulled away from the hug only to cup your face with his large hands. He kissed your lips softly, melting over the touch he had craved for days.

“I’m not going anywhere without you ever again. I don’t care if it’s the grocery store or to the living room,” Eren mumbled against your lips, and you giggled softly.

“Hey!” Jean suddenly honked his horn. “You’ve seen her, now come get your stuff!”

“In a minute,” Eren shouted back, flipping the driver off.

He just had to stare at that gorgeous face of yours for a few more minutes, and who could blame him? He was madly in love with you.

Gold that Bleeds Thorns

Synopsis: You never wanted to use your blood at all on anything or anyone but you had to this time.

Notes: This became somewhat lengthy but I hope you enjoy it! There might be missed typos so sorry for that but I do hope whoever reads this you like it! Hopefully the more I write down these ideas the more I get better at it. Thank you and have a good day or night!

Warnings under the cut!

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Warnings: Hostage situation, cult au, blood, sagau, depictions of bodily fluids and gore/flesh, curse words, suggestive creepy behavior.

Gender-neutral reader for this one

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The room was silent except for quiet breathes and the ever so slightly movements from your acolytes. The tension in the room was so thick you could feel it weighing you down, could even drown in it. All of your followers eyes were solely on your hunched form.

In the dead center of your throne room stood a couple of male figures, eyes filled with bloodlust, looking down at you. Your most loyal subjects wanted to strike down the ones who stood before you, wanted to punish them for even breathing the same air as you but they resisted the urge because you told them to not interfere.

Your hands and feet were bound by cold metal shackles that echoed in the silent room whenever you would shift your body around. Fear was painted on your face, so much so, that your apprehenders could see it with one glace.

Even though you looked afraid on the outside, you were calm on the inside. Being in this position you begun to think to yourself how could these brutes threaten you and your people!? That they could best you? You wanted to laugh at the thought but you kept it in, didn't want to break your facade now would you? Honestly though what gave them the idea that they could go up against their own creator?

While you were pondering this the leader of this small group finally spoke up to break the silence. This tall muscular built of a man was the one who chained you, their leader of the group. His messy dark brown hair swayed ever so gently as his green eyes looked down at you. He kneeled to close the distance between the two of you.

He pulled your chin up to face him, digging his nails into your cheek, making you whince a bit from the sudden pain but it soon went away. He laughed at your form, saying that he couldn't believe such a meekly being could be the "Oh so PoWeRfUl creator." He spat at your face before throwing you back down, the sound of your hitched breath mixed with the metallic ringing filled the room once more. He turned and walked away putting back some distance between the two of you as he faced your followers with a smirk.

"So, which one of you fuckers gonna save their beloved creator hmm?"

His voice commanded the audience's attention, yearned for it even. He loved that he was in control, in the spotlight and that he had the upperhand. He walked to where your most trusted acolytes were while pointing at you.

"The dogs aren't gonna save their master? Y'all really just a bunch of bitches who could care less about them." The leader continued his so called speech in a condescending tone to the reluctant audience. He became feverish with his words that a crazed look took over his features while drool hanged from the corners of his lips as he spat his words to the crowd. It was really undignified look to be honest, you couldn't help but cringe a bit on the inside.

You knew this couldn't go on for much longer, considering how you could feel certain onlookers desperately clinging onto their weapons readily. So you decided you would poke the bear just enough to where you could potentially get hurt.

Now only your most trusted acolytes knew what you could do with your blood but never witnessed it in person. So it was safe to say that they were ready to see firsthand if you chose to use it.

You scoffed at him, shifting your body upright to face him while puffing some hair away from your face.

"You're the leader right?"

That grabs his attention so he turns to you, eagerness in his eyes, to see what you'll do in your pathetic bound state. Seeing that you have his attention now solely on you, you continue with a monotoned voice.

"You have me chained up, hands and feet, unable to run away...yet you still haven't done anything."

"For you to call me weak is honestly laughable. You should really look in a mirror sometime soon".

A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, your eyes make direct eye contact with his. Just one more push you told yourself and he will surely lunge at you.

"So....you thought that if you were to threaten the people I love that I would do whatever you say? Bend to your will? Hmm? You really thought I would just let you shackle me? Did you honestly think you had me? Or are you just that stu-"

He didn't let you finish your sentence, before you knew it he came lunging at you.

Grabbing a fistful of your hair which made you yelp in response. You tried your best despite being bound to push this brute's hand off of your tender scalp to no avail. In one quick motion you could feel cold steel against your throat. This exchange made the room feel even more tense, it was suffocating. Looking at the man's eyes you could see a darkness in them waiting to tear you apart.

Your followers were itching for just one word, one faint syllable that would fall from your delicate lips. Just one word is all you have to say for your followers to strike, to be in their arms safe again. However despite everything your word was absolute. Going against it is unfathomable, equal to death, so they watched and waited even if it meant watching you suffer in silence.

The brute started to eye you up and down staring to long on certain parts of your body while licking his lips. He started to yell at you, saliva hitting your face everytime he spat an obscene word at you.

"Fucking whore, want me to mess you up? I'm sure you've already slept with everyone in this room"

He presses the knife a bit more to your throat, it was uncomfortable, you could feel the knife's blade on your vocal cords. The cold steel moving slightly everytime you had to swallow. You turned your gaze to your followers who looked at you in anticipation.

You managed to move your head slightly to your subjects never changing your gaze at them as a smile forms on your face before opening your mouth to say

"When the rose blooms you may strike".

That was it!

That was all they needed to hear from you. Finally there was a change in the air, a readiness, a willingness for bloodshed, to see the brutes eyes become lifeless. Only your most trusted acolytes knew this code, everyone else was confused but intrigued as to what you meant by that, so they kept quiet with berated breath.

However this made the brute more angry and confused as to what you just said. That's when you took his confusion as an opening. With all of your might you kneed him in his crotch which made him immediately hunch down taking the knife with him.

Adrenaline was coursing through you that you didn't notice a small cut formed on your throat until you were surround by your followers. In a flash you were in the arms of Thoma holding you up, checking your wound and undoing the shackles. While the rest guarded you from the 4 men.

Thoma helped you get up onto your throne with his arms softly supporting you. His warmth from his hands on your back lingered long after his hand left. He soft green eyes looked at you with a mix of worry and anger. He softly spoke to you with a calm demeanor

"Your Grace, hows your cut? Please allow me to clean it once you're done."

You smiled at him with a nod making him gleam back at you with softness emanating from him however it was short lived as he went back to anger as he turned to face the 4 men.

Once you were comfortable your eyes trailed downward to the black marbled flooring. Against the dark color was a small pool of golden blood. The small cut on your throat bled a bit which made a slight trail to where you sat. With your hands placed gently on top of each other, nestled in your lap, you drew a circle with your index finger into your other hand. This was a command to yourself, which made that bit of blood follow suit.

The brute looked at you about to lunge back at you with his 3 men follwing behind him but they soon realized it was futile.

The leader looks down at his hands then at his legs, the anger he had before slowly became fear. His hands were in front of him tied to his neck, almost like in a praying position while his legs were folded to make him kneel. He tried to break free from this strange beautiful rope that coiled tightly around him however it wouldn't budge no matter how much he struggled. This gold like rope was tough but looked like liquid at the same time so what could it be he thought to himself.

The beautiful gold like string that glistened under the light that lumanaited from your chandelier above was your gold blood to be exact.

Even though you got a tiny cut, that was enough blood to coil around each of the 4 men tightly. All 4 were now kneeling in a prayer position with panic setting in. The leader started to desperately shout at you in his panicked state.

"So this is the true nature of the creator, a-always knew you were pretending to be kind, what are you gonna do? Make your followers do the dirty work?" His eyes take a quick glance to the ones surrounding you on each side like a shield. It's almost as if he's trying to convince himself it will be ok. You rest your head upon your hand as you lazily look towards him.

Your kind eyes scan him up and down with a gentle smile caressing your lips as you hum a soft yet audible enough for only them to hear "~no".

You point to the gold string that shined beautifully against their skin. Your eyes shifted to around the room to see everyone's expressions then back to the leader. Still with the smile on your face you said just one simple word.

"Watch"

Even though you sounded sweet in your tone, everyone could sense the vemon in the word. Even in your eyes there was a glint of something ugly. That single word is what made the 4 men start trembling, pleading for your mercy. Honestly it was a bit amusing you couldn't help but chuckle a bit which made the men shake even more.

You announced to everyone in the room to leave if you brought your kin or can't handle torture. There was hesitation and hushed whispers from your people.

Torture?

How could such a divine creature utter such a word. However even though some wanted to stay to see what would happen they followed your command. The room only held a few of your followers alongside your trusted ones. You returned your gaze back to the group in front of you still pleading, snot dripping from their noses.

"Enough" your voice commanded, ushering the men to look up at you once more.

With that dark glint still in your eyes you looked up to your beautiful chandelier made of small like star crystals that glistened with a soft light.

"Even though I'm your creator I gave you free will. I've could've been a tyrant and controlled you from the very beginning yet I didn't." You slowly moved your gaze back at them.

"I chose to give you free will because I wanted my creations to live their life as they choose. However I'm starting to learn that some creations don't deserve my mercy at all" You're words were elegant, melodic yet hurt like venom seeping through their veins.

The men cried out in pitiful sobs, 2 of them pressing their faces on your marble floor snot mixed with drool pooled around their faces as they plead for your mercy.

One was still curious as to what you said, he looked younger then the rest, he hesitantly met your eyes before he asked you

"Your Grace...what did you mean by watch? By torture?"

His azure watery eyes were somewhat visible by his blonde locks as he looked at you. You just smiled at that silly question of his as you said "you'll see"

With a snap of your fingers the room became deathly quiet. The 4 men waited for anything; a sting, a cut, your men in waiting to lunge at them in a blink of an eye heck even for the ceiling to come down on them but nothing happened.

At first they thought you were showing them mercy, that you pityed them, they were about to say thank you until one of them broke into a frenzy. It was the young blonde who was the last one to question you.

He started to writhe in pain while his blood currled screams echoed off the walls. The other 3 watched in horror as anxiety wracked their bodies waiting for whatever he was experiencing to take them as well. It wasnt long until the whole room filled with their screams. It was a grotesque way of dying to be frank. You didnt want to watch but you had to see it through. All of the men squirmed on the floor, drool mixed with blood hanging from their mouths almost to a foam, hot tears streaming down their cheeks as their skin bubbled from the inside out. Eventually these bubbles boiling began to burst. It was like watching a pot of hot water boiling. Screams turned into muffled cries which then finally came to a halt. To them it probably felt like an eternity but it was only a good 2 mins until they were nothing more then a pile of fleshy mush.

The room was quiet once more except for the slight sizzling of the 4 men's flesh. The smell was pungent to say the least which didnt help the pit in your stomach from forming. The rest of your followers didn't know what to say or do, heck some didn't even realize they were holding their breath.

You brought yourself to look away and towards the small crowd who looked at you with mixed reactions.

You were at your limit, you couldnt keep this up any longer. The way everything made you sick from the smell, the way they died, the way their faces twisted and contorted made you want to puke.

You had to get the rest of your followers out, so with the little strength you had left, you turned to them once more with a pitiful smile no less. You waved your hand to dismiss everyone except your most loyal subjects. Even though they must've had questions for you they followed suit one by one out of the room. You were afraid though of what they were thinking. You thought to yourself of all the possible things they could be thinking, you were lost in your own thoughts.

(Do they hate me now? Did everyone who left find me disgusting or are terrified of me?)

It was the loud thud from the door closing that made you get out of your head however that just made you realize how exhausted you were.

You finally crumbled into yourself feeling that pit in your stomach now wanting to be released. You could feel the hot bile rising in the back of your throat, the taste slowly creeping towards the fron of your mouth. Covering your mouth as your breathing became short and heavy in response to the sick feeling.

You never wanted to use your blood like this but you knew you had to set an example especially after hearing rumors of some followers wanting to hurt you.

The ones left beside you tried their best to comfort you. Now all that echoed in the room was your muffled cries as you covered your face.This facade you had on the whole time crumbled and you only allowed your trusted acolytes to see you like this.

They knew you were kind, pure and gentle with everything you touched not some fearsome being who brought suffering to others. Even though their comfort was welcomed and appreciated, you still feared that they wouldn't see you the same way anymore after today.

MIRACLE ALIGNERS

Featuring— neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: none ! ⤀ summary: the melusines play matchmaker a/n: do they need an ideal mother

Your relationship with fontaine’s melusines started when you took on the menial task of helping menthe tailor the sleeves of her too long cuffs, and was solidified after your wholehearted support for aeval’s aquabus tour. In such a small community, word travels fast and your popularity skyrockets when mamere paints your portrait as her muse of choice. 

It’s not like you mind, as they’re quite easy to get along with—very sweet, if not a little naive—and you do enjoy their company when they greet you on the streets or invite you to tea. Still, it comes as a bit of a surprise when a few approach you, absolutely convinced that you’d be a great companion to their ‘very lonely, very human friend.’ 

…Which is how you come to find yourself seated at cafe lucerne, impatiently tapping your fingers at this supposed ‘friend’ who would be so rude as to make you wait more than 30 minutes past the designated meeting time. You take a deep breath to keep your irritation at bay, convincing yourself that any friend of the melusines, especially one they speak so highly of, must be a good person.

As you continue to wait, one table away, something very blue crosses your line of sight, and you look up to discover that it’s none other than the esteemed iudex himself, the chief justice who radiates such an air of refined elegance that you cannot help but sit up a little straighter in his vicinity. Seems this day just got a little more interesting as it’s not everyday you run into the notoriously elusive monsieur neuvillette just out and about on the streets of fontaine.

You yourself have been to your share of trials at the opera epiclese, seen him from his seat up above, looming over the courtroom, high and mighty. Up close, he’s still all sharp lines and perfect etiquette, the very personification of grace, but you can’t deny the fact that he’s so much more handsome in person. 

He casts a glance towards a nearby clock, and while his expression remains largely neutral, his violet eyes dance, perturbed. Perhaps he’s also meeting someone here? You deduce that it must be so, judging by the fact that he’s seated at a table clearly meant for more, and since you obviously have the time, you might as well play detective, which now begs the question: who could he be meeting?

You highly doubt it’s lady furina, so perhaps another official? Except an outdoor cafe is hardly the place to conduct such business. Besides, the average fontainian would be much too intimidated to dare keep someone of such high regard waiting. Maybe a friend, then? 

Your head tilts as you think through your observations. At least outwardly, monsieur neuvillette is…cold. He presents himself the same way in and out of court: untouchable as the sun, but with none of its warmth. He’s private and stays out of the public eye, only ever seen interacting comfortably with the archon and…the melusines… 

You lean back in disbelief at the way it all clicks. Impossible. The friend the melusines so adamantly wanted to introduce you to is…monsieur neuvillette? What a ridiculous notion to even entertain. Besides, it’s public knowledge that he’s much more of a father figure to them… although it does explain why they seemed so tongue-tied describing this so-called ‘friend.’

And…he does look quite forlorn sitting there, face blank and fingers laced together. You make a mental note to remind your little friends that as amiable as he may be with them, they cannot just blindside you with the chief justice of fontaine. Still, a meeting is a meeting, and it’d be terribly rude of you to just up and leave.

“Um, pardon me monsieur neuvillette but you wouldn’t happen to be meeting anyone here, would you?”  

Neuvillette blinks. What a pleasant surprise; not many approach him of their own accord. “As it happens, I was supposed to meet a few melusines for tea.” He gestures to the evidently empty table, though his sharp ears catch the faint whispers amidst the rustle of leaves to his side. 

“However, I suspect they may have forgotten to inform me of their change of plans.” He clears his throat, tilting his head towards a nearby bush where the tips of a few very colorful pairs of ears wiggle in excitement.

The corners of your lips quirk into the beginnings of a small smile. “That’s funny—a few melusines insisted that I meet a very human friend of theirs, though he’s yet to show up.” For obvious reasons, you decide to drop the fact they called him lonely behind his back.

Ah. So you were the kind individual his melusines often spoke so fondly of.

“Perhaps he attended the trial this morning. It did run longer than anticipated.” Yes, you knew there must have been a valid explanation to the tardiness. 

“Well, maybe we can keep each other company while we wait?”

Neuvillette gestures at the empty chair across from him and you swear the sun seems to shine a little brighter. “I would very much like that.”

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© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: you contemplate gojo's existence on a roof, at night, alone (or so you think). wc: ~1.7k genre: mostly fluff, a tiny bit of angst at the beginning warnings: some jjk manga spoilers, talks about geto, talks about death i listened to "moon song" by phoebe bridgers while writing this so you could say it's loosely inspired

gojo satoru is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer alive.

that isn't an opinion, it's a fact so widely accepted that the higher-ups have begun sending him on increasingly dangerous missions. you're unsure as to whether it's an attempt to end his life or if they're just taking advantage of the fact that there is no curse strong enough to beat him.

a sigh escapes your lips as you lie down, your back pressed up against the ridged shingles of the school's roof. it's neither uncomfortable nor comfortable, but you don't know if it's because of the architecture or if you're just numb.

you've been feeling numb pretty often lately.

things have changed in the past few years. there's an emptiness that seems to live within you, created by geto's defection and somewhat filled in by the presence of fushiguro megumi. you hope that the more time you spend with him, the easier it gets.

(it's hard when he looks so much like his father).

you think about megumi in an attempt to stop thinking about gojo, and you wonder if he knows how it pains you to take the boy in. you also wonder if it's some sort of self-inflicted punishment for him; saving the son of the man he murdered. it sounds like something gojo would knowingly put himself through.

the moonlight is bright as you force yourself to focus on the sky, your eyes studying the stars scattered about in a weak attempt to locate the few constellations you know. you shut your eyes almost immediately, sucking in a deep breath as you remember it was geto who taught you everything you know about constellations.

you wonder if gojo thinks about him often. (you know he does).

there's a brief moment where you wiggle around uncomfortably before sitting up, your hair blowing in the soft breeze as you bring your knees up to your chest. sleep has been evading you for quite some time now, but it's always worse whenever gojo is gone. you claim your insomnia stems from a place of concern, but shoko argues that it's because you have some sort of codependent relationship with your blue-eyed friend. you wonder if she's right.

it isn't long until you notice his presence, and you know that he knows that you know he's there. he doesn't move for a few minutes, and neither do you, content to keep staring out at nothing. it isn't until a stronger breeze blows, making you shiver, that he finally comes to stand next to you.

"cold night," gojo comments, one hand in his pocket. there's a bundle under his other arm, and you barely spare him a glance as you answer.

"you're back early," you mutter, identifying the bundle as the woven blanket you tend to keep at the foot of your bed. "i thought it was a five day thing."

"you know how it is," he says in response. you hum in return because yes, you do know how it is for gojo. for him, a five day mission can be completed in a matter of hours if he really tries, and you're all of a sudden reminded of just how powerful gojo satoru is.

his birth changed the balance of the world and yet, the holder of the six eyes, user of the limitless technique, and master of infinity leans down to wrap a blanket around your shivering form. you feel his fingers brush against your arms.

you stare at him for a few seconds as he adjusts the blanket, the sunglasses perched on his nose making you frown. they look frighteningly similar to the ones he wore back then. you think they might actually be the same pair. there's little hesitation on your behalf as you reach out, gently grabbing them and plucking them off of his face. his eyes are trained on you the entire time, and without the protection from the sunglasses, you are forced to bear the entire weight of the stare from his six eyes.

as you stare into bright, endless blue flames, you think it's not so bad.

the satoru from back then was bright and bold, as unforgiving as the summer sun as he developed into a formidable sorcerer alongside his best friend. you think the one you're seeing now is more like the moon; still bright and impressive but just a little less intense. he's more bearable, slightly matured by the highs and lows of being a caretaker to a grumpy child, but just as out of reach as he has always been.

you presume geto's sun died the day he left.

nothing is said as gojo takes a seat next to you, his knee bumping against yours as he tries to mimic your position. next comes the brushing of his pinky finger against yours, and you wonder if something happened on his mission. the tenderness of his touches is unusual but not unwelcome. it's something you don't think you'll ever get used to.

"here," you say, unwrapping the blanket from around yourself and extending one arm towards gojo. he looks at you, bewilderment clear on his face. you don't do anything but send him a tired smile, motioning for him to scoot in even closer. "it's big enough for both of us."

gojo listens without complaint, pressing himself up against you until you're able to rest your head on his shoulder. there's something comforting about having you close, and he knows it's because you bring him a sense of relief that he doesn't think he's felt since geto suguru left him behind.

left both of you behind.

"do you think about him?" you ask, breaking gojo out of his thoughts. he stays quiet, but you know that he knows who you're talking about. you've started to avoid saying his name out loud but its all you can hear in your head as you wait for his response. geto, geto, geto.

it soon becomes abundantly clear that gojo refuses to answer, and you keep speaking in desperate hopes of trying to finally get rid of the emptiness you feel inside. you think that'll never happen.

"because i do," you admit quietly, your chest tightening as you trace random shapes on your knee. "i think about him all the time and i just wonder where i went wrong because we were so happy, satoru. i think about all those late nights where we stayed up with shoko, laughing and pretending for once that everything would be fine. we knew our lives were dangerous but when we were together it didn't matter because we were together."

gojo pretends not to hear the soft crack in your voice as you get increasingly louder, cutting yourself off with a gasp before taking a deep breath and continuing.

"why did he leave?" you ask quietly. your words ring loudly in gojo's ears and for once in his life, he doesn't have anything to say. "i keep thinking about that day and i don't get it. why didn't he come to us? there was no reason for him to have left us just like that, is there? i thought he loved us. i know he loved you. and i can't make sense of his actions wit--"

"is that what you've been losing sleep over? that's stupid, you shouldn't be concerning yourself over this. and he loved you too, y'know? a lot," gojo says softly, cutting you off before you can spiral even more. there's a pregnant pause as he reaches out, grabbing your hand and bringing it closer to him as he toys with your fingers. you look up at him when he intertwines his hand with yours, eyes widening when you see him already staring at you. his free hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb softly stroking the area right under your eye. you're sure your eyebags are looking worse than normal. "and so do i."

it takes you a moment to process his words, the silence growing as you think back to what he had said before initiating physical contact with you. when you realize what he has admitted, that he's in love with you, you feel your face begin to heat up under his hand.

"what?" you squeak, eyes wide as you watch his face. you see amusement dancing in his eyes, the corner of his mouth pulling up slightly at your response.

"i am in love with you," he admits quietly, eyes darting down to your lips when they part open in shock. "and i would really like to kiss you right now."

gojo is rewarded with an answer when you lean forwards, your lips connecting in a clumsy kiss as you do your best to remain still on the roof. his hand disconnects from yours in favor of joining his other in cupping your face, deepening the kiss as he does so. your hands come up to grab onto his forearms, and you find yourself shifting onto his lap in an attempt to get even closer to gojo.

"in case it isn't clear, i'm in love with you too," you murmur softly once you've separated. your arms drop to wrap around gojo, and he lets go of your face in favor of hugging you close to him.

"well that's a relief!" he says in his usual teasing tone. it makes you happy to see him happy and for the first time in a long time, neither one of you are thinking about geto suguru in that moment. you giggle when gojo leans back, lying down on the roof as he forces you to cuddle him. you rest your face in the crook of his neck, letting your eyes drift close as he hums.

"you know you don't need to worry about anything, right?" gojo asks, his words uncharacteristically soft as he runs his fingers through your hair. "you have me, and i can do anything to keep you safe. in fact, i will to whatever it takes to keep you safe and happy and i hope you know i'd give you the moon if you really asked me to."

you snort at his cheesy words, your heart feeling lighter than it ever has as he joins you in your laughter. you lean up to press a kiss to his jaw before settling back into your previous position, wrapping the blanket more tightly around the two of you.

"i don't need the moon, satoru. i just need you."

he smiles.

reblogs are appreciated <3