#the fluffiest

[lemon-berri]

A Side That Only You Get to See

Most people know Satoru Gojo as the strongest sorcerer. A formidable force, renowned for his power. Respected by sorcerers and feared by curses and curse users alike. To those who do not know him, he's paramount to a legend. Untouchable. Unreachable.

While the people who work closely with him know another side. The irreverent, goofy sorcerer who fools around on the job and plays pranks on his colleagues. They're all too familiar with his boisterous laugh and unconventional ways. And while his students still respect him, they're comfortable around him like they might be with a friend, or a family member.

That's who he is. A warm personality that lights up a room. Someone who cares deeply for those around him, even if his ways of showing it are unusual. Someone who wants to improve the world around him.

But nobody knows the Gojo you do.

The one who comes home in the early hours of the morning, just to rest in his partners arms. Who's sometimes late to work because he cannot bring himself to let you go. He's enraptured by your touch, lulled into peace by your scent. He's quiet at home, a stark contrast to his usual personality. But he prefers to bask in your presence, to listen to your voice as you tell him about your day, or whatever new interest you've picked up.

The sorcerer who comes home from missions a day early without telling anyone so he can steal some more time with the one he loves. Who plans elaborate surprises, cooks for you and buys you a fresh bouquet every week. He prefers a quiet night at home rather than going out. That way he gets more of your attention.

The Gojo who's easily bored, because he's naturally good at everything, but still takes part in your hobbies and interests. He lets you teach him things he already knows, and sometimes pretends to mess up just so he can see the passion in your eyes as you explain where he went wrong. His cerulean eyes light up whenever you  show him something you've created, and he'll buy you all the supplies you need, if only to see that smile.

Your Satoru, who's love language is physical touch. Who, before meeting you, had kept a barrier between himself and the rest of the world for so long that he'd become afraid to let it down. Who now clings onto you whenever you're home. He gets pouty if you're in sight but not touching him - so make sure to pay extra attention to his facial expressions.

Truly, if anyone else saw him like this he wouldn't care. He's not ashamed to show the world how much he loves you. But a part of him likes the way things are. Its like a secret, between just the two of you. As if your home exists in a world of its own, away from all the curses and higher ups and daily stress. So for now, he'll save his soft side, just for you. A side that only you get to see.

Soooooo I sorta went MIA for a few weeks.. but as we already established I do not have a post schedule so it's okay (right?).

Thank you guys for reading this! As usual it's not proofread and if you point out my spelling mistakes I'll leave and never come back.

Ily all 🩵

[wdclando]

[bretzkysbs]

[the-lonelybarricade]

If you're taking prompts. How about Rhys teaching Nyx how to be a proper ruler or to harness his powers? 😊

Thank you for the prompt lovely!! I hope you enjoy this little scene I whipped up during my lunch break!

Rhys Week - Day 2: High King

“As High King, I sentence you with treason against the crown.”

“Treason?” Cassian balked. “That's hardly—”

“Silence,” Nyx roared, fury glinting in his deep blue eyes. He raised his fists into the air. “Any last words?”

A smirk twitched at the corner of Cassian’s lips. “Behind you.”

Nyx turned, just in time to be met with the snowball hurtling through the air. He stumbled backwards as it smashed against his face, appearing momentarily stunned as the ice crystals fluttered away from his chin.

Two deep sets of laughter rumbled through the air, one from Cassian behind the boy and the other from Azriel, who watched in amusement as Nyx shook off the excess snow.

Rhysand could track the very moment the fun transcended into something darker. Nyx wiped his hand across his face, discarding more than just the layer of snow. Something shifted in his eyes as he surveyed his howling uncles. A look that offered enough warning for Rhysand to throw a shield around his brothers, around the cottage, around Nyx himself.

Every snow-built fortress and soldier exploded into a mist of frost, eviscerating their hours of work, along with Azriel and Cassian’s laughter.

The world went so still for a moment. 

Nyx stood at its center, marveling the carnage. Azriel and Cassian watched him warily, faltering somewhere between protecting their nephew and protecting themselves.

Snow crunched underfoot as Rhysand stood from his now demolished cover. He was the first to brave that heart wrenching realization dawning on Nyx’s face.

“Nyx,” Rhysand said softly, crouching before his son.

Tears glistened in his eyes, and he aimed them anywhere but his father’s face.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffed.

“Talk me through what happened.”

His bottom lip began quivering. “I got mad.”

“And then what?” Rhys prompted.

Nyx glanced around at the empty field of snow and let out a wet sob. “Then it all exploded.”

“On the outside, yes,” Rhys murmured. He pressed a hand to his son’s chest. “But you felt it in here first, didn’t you? Felt your magic building up?”

“It happened so quickly,” he said, eyes wide with a fear that Rhys felt like a knife in the gut. “I didn’t—” he sucked in a harsh breath . “I didn’t mean to—” 

“Come here,” Rhys murmured, pulling his son against his chest. Nyx stuffed his face into his father’s shoulder, and like a blockage in a stream being cleared away, the tears began flowing in earnest. Rhysand rocked him gently, giving him a moment to release all that emotion before he gently prompted, “Did you know that sometimes, I’m afraid of my power, too?”

His small voice was muffled against Rhysand’s tunic. “...You are?”

“And so is your mother.” Rhys soothed a hand over Nyx’s long, dark scruff of hair. He had been growing it out to be more like his uncle Cassian. “And mistakes like this, they are all a part of learning. They remind us why it’s so important to learn control. So that the next time your magic builds up, you can manage it safely.”

Nyx pulled away, tears still shimmering among the constellations in his eyes.

“Remember your lessons?” A tendril of night drifted from Rhysand’s palm, snaking around Nyx’s shoulders. It nudged him affectionately against the cheek. “What’s an example of a safe way to release magic?”

Nyx held out his hand, and that same star-kissed power released from his palm, lifting into the air to twine playfully with Rhysand’s. His heart tugged at the sight.

“You know how it feels now, when your magic needs to be drained. You’ll get better at recognizing it, but now you have an idea of your threshold—and what happens if you go beyond it.” Nyx nodded, absently feeling at his chest. Rhys knew the phantom ache he felt there all too well. “What do you do the next time you feel it building?”

“I release it,” Nyx said, with newfound determination. “So that no one gets hurt.”

Rhys smiled proudly. “That’s right. Now, what do you need to go say to your uncles?”

With a closed fist, Nyx hastily wiped away the remaining tears from his cheeks before marching over to where Azriel and Cassian stood, watching with poorly hidden concern. 

Shoulders set with an earnesty that was entirely Feyre’s doing, Nyx met each of his uncles in the eyes and said sincerely, “I’m sorry for losing control of my magic.”

“Hey, we’re all okay, aren’t we?” Cassian said warmly, clapping an affectionate hand onto Nyx’s shoulder. 

And what else, Nyx? Rhys prompted silently. What else do you have to say to your uncles?

He had circled around, so that he could see the sparkle in his son’s eyes, the mischievous tilt to his lips that felt almost like looking in a mirror. 

“One other thing,” Nyx said to them, sounding much more elevated now that he could see the way Rhysand knelt to the ground and plunged his hand into the cold snow.

Nyx couldn’t help laughing as he said, “Behind you.”

[illiana-mystery]

He likes to hear himself talk, but I like to hear him talk too. 😅

[littlescaryinternetguy]

It's so cold here in this cavernous space, where everything is metal and concrete and black rubber. Huge shapes that suggest animals crouch in the dark. You were terrified: would the pack of ice weasels find you in here? You cursed your tiny stature, and the terrible shrinking virus that only shrank men, leaving women in charge of what would soon become the One World Government. Your kind... the Dudes... had been hunted, put on display, used as loofahs. Forced to sleep fitfully in shoes and slippers. No, you did not like that, little man. Suddenly, the lights came on, blinding. They stand in the doorway, silhouetted, an ice weasel in each hand. They bonk their heads together and toss them over their shoulders. The figure steps into the light, in a suit of bright yellow. "You don't have to be scared any more," he says (yes! a him! so tall!). "Let me fix you a hot breakfast and a cool drink." He kneels and you feel no shame in the tears you shed as you run towards him.

[sofarraway]

(๑ºωº)b (๑ºωº)b (⊙ᴗ⊙ •) d(ºωº๑)d(ºωº๑)

[kookieswan]

Imagine cuddling with Jungkook at 3am in your soft shared bed. The window would be cracked, the musky fall air flowing through and chilling the room as the curtains sway. He’d pull you closer, letting you snuggle into his side, head on his chest as you pull the freshly washed fluffy blanket over your nose, the smell of fabric softener mixed with his cologne lulling you to sleep. He’d run his fingers up and down your back, mumbling sweet words, the whispers of “I love you…” echoing through the room as you fall asleep in his arms …. Yeah….