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“I tire of this,” Satoru drawls, casting a disinterested gaze across the courtyard. “It bores me.”
Several of his worshippers are engaged in a drunken orgy in his name. Their sweat-glistened bodies move in tandem to the rhythm of a silent song only known to the participants. As the sole captive audience he has long given up on trying to decipher the melody. If he were interested he could; he could enter their minds and discover it for himself. However, as he has made clear, he is dreadfully bored.
Initially, the spontaneous orgy piqued his interest because he did not ask it of them nor did he express a desire to see it unfold before his eyes.
They simply felt compelled to do it. Something about his godly presence made them overwhelmed with emotion. Lust just so happened to dominate those emotions.
Satoru was summoned here to the temple by his followers. Without him noticing, they constructed a great place of worship made of marble and stone on top of one of the largest mountain ranges in the realm. Even he must admit it is a feat; for a mortal, of course.
Tonight they gathered here, drunk on wine and reverence, and their combined chants reached his ears. He will applaud them for this as he has gone eons ignoring prayers and summons yet they managed to move him.
For only a moment.
“Shall we bring more people in,” the head priest asks, falling on his knees before the dais where Satoru is seated. “Perhaps the cattle from my farm?”
Curiously, Satoru tilts his head. “Cattle?” he asks.
The small action makes his worshippers quiver with ecstasy. He is regarded as the most beautiful and divine being in existence.
The blue of his eyes and the white of his hair inspired the sky and clouds that hang above the earth. His magnificent body, made of only muscle, is what every athlete aspires to. His voice is what minstrels desperately try to recreate with their instruments.
“Yes, Kami,” the head priest says, “Perhaps your godly appetite will be sated that way?”
Satoru is the prototype for all things as he is the God of All. The skies, the earth, and the land below. Beauty, love, music, and poems. War and strategy, knowledge and agriculture. Every concept and idea is a gift from him to the mortals he thought into existence.
Over time he has created deities to overlook certain regions and areas of expertise though he allows the mortals to believe they have some power over that as it is amusing to do so. The mortals he created have reproduced and passed down their knowledge and culture to their offspring, creating an endless stream of worshippers for him in turn.
It appears the mortals have also developed peculiar habits. What does the head priest mean to say about his perceived godly appetite? What purpose would cattle serve in this orgy?
Satoru has a look inside of the head priest’s mind to find his answer because he is impatient. Once he sees the perverted thoughts, he scowls, his beautiful face twisting into a dark mask. A shadow is cast upon the room, the manifestation of his disapproval.
The orgy suddenly halts as the worshippers bow their heads and plead for forgiveness.
“You dare defile the livestock I gifted you to provide nourishment to your frail bodies?” Satoru asks, his voice deathly cold, detached, empty of warmth.
“I meant no offense!”
Satoru raises his hand, and the head priest drops dead, the life he gave to him is drained and returned to the earth so that a new, more deserving life can flourish.
Slowly rising to his feet, he changes his size right before the eyes of the remaining worshippers.
Originally, he was the size of a normal man, now he threatens to destroy the temple with his gigantic height and body mass but he makes himself large enough for his head to brush along the mosaic ceiling and nothing more. His eyes are electric blue, his expression empty of joy.
In an iron tone he says, “Speak of what you witnessed here tonight. Tell all that you meet that the All Knowing does not condone such vile acts.” He allows the disgust to be heard in his voice. “All who participate will die.”
With that, Satoru disappears from the temple in a cloud of gold dust, returning to his manse in the sky.
To further express his anger, he creates a thunderstorm that encompasses the realm for six days and six nights.
Every prayer for a reprieve is gone unanswered.
How is it that his greatest godly creation has turned into his greatest regret? The mortals have the tools to be brilliant as he has witnessed with the evolution of farming, cities, and the arts. Yet there are those who devote their time to such frivolous and deprived acts.
Satoru has half the mind to obliterate the earth. It would be like crushing a duck egg in the palm of his hand.
In the end, he retires to his throne room and broods.
That is the night he swears to never visit the mortal realm again, to allow the pathetic mortals to carry on in their mundane existence. They may rule and govern themselves for all he cares.
And in the blink of an eye a century passes.
For a being like Satoru, time is as shapeless as the rain in how it dissolves into itself. Lifetimes come and go, new generations rise as the old ones fall.
Nevertheless, he remains the absolute creator, meaning all of the praises are delivered unto him.
Millions of prayers have reached his ears. Millions have gone ignored. His creations have disappointed him beyond repair, and they should be fortunate that he hasn’t sent a cataclysmic disaster to wipe them from existence.
The humans will continue to squander away the many gifts he bestowed upon them and they will be their own ruin. He doesn’t even taint his gaze by taking a peek at the mortal realm. Any entertainment he once sought from them is sought elsewhere.
The deities — the few he likes — pays him visits during each solstice which is as far as his socialization goes but it is enough to appease his boredom, albeit temporarily.
Another solstice soon arrives, thankfully.
Satoru hosts the banquet in his heavenly manse made of marble and gold. Above their heads is an open ceiling that grants a spectacular view of the stars and galaxies that gave birth to him. Through the clouds down below, he can peek at the mortal realm and see every corner of it if he so chooses.
Deities from all corners of the world come to celebrate the wondrous occasion with him. Per their customs, they bring gifts; delicacies from the regions they govern, and Satoru gives gifts of his own.
Enlightenment is the most sought after as it grants the deities more spiritual abilities. Mortals can only offer them a certain amount with their worship whereas Satoru has an endless supply.
Winter is the season when the prayers triple in quantity. People pray for their family, their crops, and their livestock more often during this time.
Throughout the banquet, his head is filled with the incessant noise of millions of mortals begging him for something. As old as he is, he has learned how to simply switch it off. So, he does. He drinks his fill of ambrosia and joins in on the merriment.
Many of the deities wish to be his consort. None of them interest him as much. During his green years as a godling he fucked whoever he could get his cock into as the new experience was thrilling. Sadly, all good things come to an end. That can be true for everyone, even a god.
Satoru is admiring a new porcelain vase when he hears a desperate cry for help.
“…Kami-sama, please hear my prayer!”
Despite Satoru turning that mental flip off, the voice rings clear inside his head like a bell. Unbothered, he turns the switch back off. He drinks from his goblet and takes a seat on his throne to watch a dance performance.
“Kami-sama! Please, your humble servant needs your strength!”
Not only did someone’s voice get through without his permittance for the first time ever. The same person managed to do it twice. A mortal’s prayers have managed to breach his mental barrier. How is that possible?
Satoru’s curiosity is piqued, he has to admit.
From his very conception, he has been curious and fascinated by any anomaly he encounters. That is the only reason why, after a century, he takes a peek at the mortal realm.
The source of the voice is found in an instance, in an unremarkable village surrounded by a range of cloud-piercing mountains.
Seeing a young pup struggling to help a lamb out of an icy river, he nearly looks away out of disappointment. His attention is held when the pup bravely plunges into the water and grabs hold of the lamb.
The pup uses his feeble strength to swim the lamb to the bank, struggling against the rough current that is flowing in the opposite direction. Ice blocks threaten to knock him under the surface yet he preserves.
“Fool,” Satoru whispers as he continues to watch from his throne, “you will drown.”
Death is surrounding the pup on all sides, Satoru can see the abysmal shadows lurking in the nearby foliage, servants of the death dealer he created eons ago when he decided that life and death must play a vital role in the existence of mortals; they become stagnant when they have less to fear.
Satoru could disperse the shadows with merely a thought. He could do a lot of things to spare this pup’s life. Yet he hesitates.
There should be no hesitation. He should have looked away a long time ago and carried on with the festivities. Death is the only certainty for mortals. It does not matter to him.
The pup is determined; Satoru will give him that. He even succeeds in helping the lamb onto land. But as expected he used all of his energy saving the lamb, leaving none for himself. The pitiful creature begins to sink. Mortals die on a daily basis. It matters not to him.
“…as long as the lamb is okay…” the pup thinks as the air empties from his small lungs.
Nostrils flaring, Satoru outstretches his hand and plucks the pup from the watery depths. “You did manage to surprise me,” he says, laying the pup on the bank, next to the lamb that licks his face until he awakes, coughing up water. “You may carry on with your insignificant existence.”
Immediately, Satoru turns off his omnipotent gaze, planning to go another century ignoring the mortal realm. It angered him to hear the pup worry about the life of a lamb over his own in his final moments, though, he doesn’t know why that angered him. He dares not sully his mood further by contemplating it.
As the banquet is drawing to a close and the dawn of a new day is approaching, Satoru hears that voice in his head once more.
“Thank you, Kami-sama!”
The pup is called Suguru.
He is rather scrawny for his age with hair the color of spilled ink, stopping a breath above his shoulders. His honey-hued skin is a rarity in the region where he dwells, and so are his violet eyes. He is one of the many omegas Satoru created in order to allow the mortals to reproduce with one another.
During the conception of alpha and omega he was convinced that omegas would sit at the head of society as they are essential to mankind’s existence.
Imagine his disappointment to learn that it is the other way around; more reason to have lost hope in mankind.
Suguru, along with his mother, spend their days doing housework while the head of the household — Suguru’s father — is off fighting in another senseless war, and his elder brother tends to their meager farm. They are a typical family of small means living in a village that is half a day’s journey from the nearest city.
Usually, the comings and goings of mortals bores Satoru to tears but he finds himself tuning into Suguru’s daily life with apt interest.
Suguru rises with the sun, beginning his day by assisting his mother with the morning meal, and they clean the abode together and begin their chores.
Sometimes, depending on the weather, Suguru will go into the woods to pick berries. He is often distracted by whatever bug or bird he encounters, and he likes to pick up twigs and pretend they are swords. For a non-combatant his footwork is decent. He would die in battle, certainly, but Satoru believes he could last long enough to be labeled a warrior.
Before supper every evening, Suguru visits one of the many temples that have been constructed in Satoru’s honor. The temple near their village has seen better days. It appears that when the war broke out, this was one of the first places that was plundered. The ceiling has a hole in it right above the statue that is meant to portray Satoru’s likeness. Suguru cleans the statue diligently and lights incense.
After supper is had, Suguru and his mother bathe in a stream behind their abode. Satoru turns his gaze away each time.
By that point he knows he has spent too long peeking at the mortal realm. He only takes another peek when Suguru lays down for bed because the pup cannot seem to sleep without thanking Satoru for blessing him and his family with another day.
Suguru is a devout worshiper of pure heart, Satoru concludes after a fortnight of observing.
For that reason alone, he intervenes here and there. He sends fortune Suguru’s way in the shape of faster crop growth so that he may sleep with a full belly for a change, and he persuades the winds to be gracious on the days when the sun is overbearing.
Whenever Suguru doses off for a nap in the woods, Satoru wards off predatory animals so that the pup will sleep without worry.
Satoru begins to influence the world outside of the village as well. One night, Suguru dreams about his father, and the following day he is somber because he misses him dearly. So, Satoru locates Suguru’s father on a battlefield leagues away and he puts a swift end to the war by plaguing the opposing army with famine.
He is filled with a feeling he cannot explain months later when Suguru is reunited with his father. A small smile is brought to his face when the two embrace.
Unfortunately, his interference does not go unnoticed.
“Your servant kneels before you,” Sukuna, one of the first deities he created, says as he kneels before his throne. He represents war and calamity. “May I ask what drove you to pick a side in my war?”
Satoru rests his face on his fisted hand. His expression is nonplussed. Inwardly, he is cursing himself for being careless. “Need I explain myself to the likes of you?”
“Of course not. However, I do find it odd how you have found no interest in the affairs of mortals yet suddenly you bless an army with your favor.”
“You will have plenty of wars, Sukuna. A new one is brewing as we speak.”
“That is not the point.”
“Then what is the point? Hurry. Get to it so that you may leave. I tire of your face.”
Sukuna is ancient. Nearly as ancient as Satoru. He is one of the few otherworldly beings who has witnessed the rise and fall of many nations. No one understands the darkness of the hearts of mortals quite like Sukuna does, however. He sees humans at their absolute worst, and he knows the different forms of desire all too well.
“Who are they?” Sukuna asks. He clarifies, “The mortal you lust for. Is it one of the warriors?”
“Pardon me?”
“You could have stolen them from the battlefield and fucked them, had your fill,” Sukuna says, disregarding the scandalized expression on Satoru’s face. “Are you that much of a romantic that you have to put an abrupt end to a war I had been planning for years?”
“How dare you throw such baseless accusations at me, your sire!” Satoru rises from his throne and slowly descends the marble steps. “There is no mortal that I lust for! It is absurd!”
“You have never behaved this way,” Sukuna says, looking as disgusted as he is fascinated. “To care so much for the lives of mortals as to intervene…you have always preferred to simply watch. Who are they?”
Satoru scowls. “Quiet.”
“Male? Female? Alpha? Omega? Who has caught your eye.”
The conversation is beyond infuriating because while Satoru will reluctantly admit that he did intervene in that war for the sake of a singular mortal, he in no way lusts for Suguru. He is a scrawny pup with a forgetful face. He is naïve, weak, and uninspiring.
Satoru does not desire him now, and he will not desire him when he is older.
His irritation becomes apparent when a bolt of lightning strikes the earth below. It is loud enough for half of the world to hear it.
“Struck a nerve?” Sukuna asks, grinning. “I was beginning to wonder if you had an appetite for earthly pleasures at all. Happy to know that deep down you are just like the rest of us.”
“Hear me clearly, Sukuna, I am nothing like you or my other creations. Lust, love, desire, and despair are emotions I will never know. That is why I am superior.”
With that, Satoru waves his hand and Sukuna is dismissed from his sight.
No more, he decides at that moment. No more will he be bothered by the happenings of the mortal realm, especially in regards to Suguru. The brave pup caught his interest for a moment.
Now his novelty has worn off.
Satoru turns his gaze away from the world from that moment on. Whenever Suguru’s voice breaks through his mind he ignores it. Nothing dire occurs. Suguru just speaks to him quite often. He tells Satoru about his day, his hopes and dreams, but he never asks for anything. Even on that fateful day his prayers were centered around the lamb, not himself.
The pup is selfless and optimistic. He will do well in life without Satoru’s interference and Satoru can return to his own boring existence.
Time passes yet again.
Satoru doesn’t keep up with it. He enters a voluntary slumber out of severe boredom, only waking for the Solstice and then going back to sleep once it has passed. For the short time that he is awake, that voice is ever present but he succeeds in ignoring it.
Until one day, he can hear the voice even in his sleep.
“I do not wish to go through with this, Kami-sama…”
Try as he might to disregard Suguru’s prayer he cannot sleep any longer. He is forced out of his slumber and out of his bedchamber by an unseen force that dwells inside of his chest where a mortal’s heart lies. That part of him is absent yet now it thuds as though he has a heart as well.
It is irritating, and it is exciting.
Sitting on his throne, Satoru peers down at the mortal realm. Twice now Suguru has managed to draw his attention and make him break his vow to never do this again. That is commendable and deserving of his attention. It is the only reason he goes through with this; at least that is the excuse he creates for himself.
Locating Suguru is done in seconds. He still lives in the same village. A lot has changed in the few years that have passed. More abodes have been built, the population is larger, and the farm lands have expanded.
Without the war bleeding the resources dry the people have thrived as well.
The greatest change of all is Suguru who is no longer a pup, but a maiden.
A beautiful one at that.
That hollow part of Satoru’s chest thuds again as he marvels at Suguru's development.
Could this truly be the same scrawny lad whose tunic was always two sizes too big?
The garment he wears now fits him well, accentuating his omegan curves and the subtle muscle in his form. His hair is full and long, cascading waves toppling down his delicate shoulders to stop above his backside. The roundness in his face is gone yet his features are still soft and joyous. Even as they are twisted with unrest.
Suguru calls out again. Judging by his tone, his needs are dire. He is at the temple, kneeling in front of Satoru’s statue, violet eyes glistened with unshed tears.
For a reason Satoru cannot explain, he morphs into a form he has not worn in a very long time. Leaving his heavenly manse behind, he visits the mortal realm.
“…I understand that you are busy protecting the earth—”
“Yet you still bother me with…what exactly do you want again?”
Snapping his head up, Suguru looks around the temple to find the source of the voice. He looks frightened but instead of making a move to flee, he has a fist raised as if he intends to protect himself from what he perceives as an intruder. He is brave as ever.
From behind the statue, Satoru smiles. “I stand before you, Suguru,” he says in amusement. “Do you not recognize the voice of your god?”
Suguru stares up at the statue’s face. “Kami-sama?” he asks, gasping. “Are you…inside of the statue?”
Satoru laughs a genuine laugh; the first one in centuries. “Is that what you mortals think?” Seeing that he is in a benevolent mood, he steps around the statue to reveal himself. “This statue looks nothing like me.”
“It is you…” Suguru’s face becomes flushed and his heart skips a beat as he drinks Satoru in. “Are you truly here?” he asks in disbelief.
“Truly.”
Because he just has to know what Suguru thinks, he reads his thoughts. Naturally, there is doubt. This is a rare occurrence, after all. But there is astonishment, happiness, adoration, and attraction as well. The latter is what Satoru was looking for though he doesn’t know why.
Of course he is attractive. He is well aware. In this form, he has the stature of an alpha and the physique of a warrior. Even still, he is abnormally bigger. He is wearing a garment similar to Suguru’s but one side is open, exposing parts of his chiseled chest and torso. He is barefoot, and adorned by gold earrings and necklaces.
Suguru’s stares at his bare skin but looks away out of shame. He blushes and lowers his gaze.
Satoru moves closer to him. “Now, why have you disturbed my slumber?”
“Forgive me!” Suguru lifts his head, startled to find Satoru squatting in front of him. He cannot look away now that their eyes are locked. “I have met you before, haven’t I?”
“I have not visited this plane for centuries. You are mistaken.”
“You saved me from drowning once. I felt you lift me out of the water.”
Satoru’s face gives nothing away while internally he is at a loss.
That memory should be wiped from Suguru’s mind, and regardless he did not physically do that. He did not jump into the river and save Suguru from sinking. To any onlookers, it would have appeared as if an invisible force pulled Suguru out of that river. Yet Suguru knows that it was his doing. He even remembers the incident clearly.
“I save a lot of mortals,” Satoru says, shrugging. “You lot are often in need of me. Now, tell me what you require or I will leave.”
Despite his denial Suguru does not believe his excuse. He is very stubborn, and oh so beautiful. Satoru cannot take his eyes off his face.
Suguru is not one to test the patience of a god. He doesn’t waste another second. “My father has given a suitor permission to marry me!” He covers his face in despair. “Lord Gakuganji’s son is said to be handsome but I cannot marry a man I do not know!”
Marriage?
Satoru supposes that makes sense. It is the natural order of things for mortals. Suguru is no longer a lamb. He is a sheep now, meaning he must abide by the rules of his society. Alphas and omegas are meant to partner up and procreate. Satoru shouldn’t be shocked by this news; he shouldn't be upset either.
And yet he is both of those things.
“Is he grotesque?” Satoru asks, masking his discontent. “Be honest. You claim to not care for his appearance but you are ungrateful for a good match. The son of a Lord will be a Lord some day and you, the Lady of his Manse. Do you not wish for more than farm life?”
Suguru stares at Satoru, no longer bashfully looking away. Startling him, Suguru takes his right hand and places it over his chest.
“Gaze into my heart, Kami-sama,” he says with a gentle smile. “I dare not deceive you.”
There is no need, Satoru wants to say.
The contents of Suguru’s heart have been known to him from the very start.
He knows that Suguru is sincere and caring, that he appreciates the simplicities of life and holds great respect for all aspects of it. He is devout. The roof of the temple has been repaired and it is obvious that he ensured the task was done. He is pure and virginal, and he is loyal.
It matters not if Suguru’s betrothed is grotesque. As long as they are good, Suguru will accept them. But as it stands, he knows nothing about Lord Gakuganji’s son. That is the issue.
“I have seen your heart,” Satoru says, dragging his hand down Suguru’s chest, glossing it over a pert nipple that can be felt through the fabric of his tunic. “You are truthful.” He moves his hand to Suguru’s stomach, smirking when he hears his breath hitch. “Your womb is healthy and your hips are full…”
Once Suguru opened the door to physical contact he made a grave mistake. Now Satoru cannot take his hands off of him. He marvels at the softness of his body as though he has never touched another before and vice versa.
This is somehow different. It is better than any other encounter.
“Your face is…” Magnificent. “…acceptable,” he says instead. Removing his hand, he rises to his feet. “You can marry whomever you choose. They will pay a handsome dowry for your hand.”
Suguru stands up as well. Absently, he touches his stomach in the same place Satoru touched. “The options are slim around here,” he says, eyes hooded.
He is aroused. That touch aroused him. How exciting.
“I can bring the suitors to you.” With great reluctance. “No matter how far or wide they must travel, I can make it so.”
“That won’t do. Regardless, the courting ritual is too short. How am I to know someone after two days?”
“Then what is your solution?”
“I do not have one,” Suguru pitifully says. His sadness returns. “There is nothing to be done. Centuries worth of tradition cannot end for my comfort.”
Satoru isn’t surprised in the slightest by this conclusion. He is accustomed to mortals being gluttonous. They care nothing for tradition unless it suits them. Suguru remains a singularity.
“You summoned me here for nothing,” Satoru says, feigning annoyance.
Smiling, Suguru bows his head. “Forgive me. I only wanted to speak my mind on the matter and you’re the only one I can talk freely with.”
“We have never spoken before.”
“That is true but I know you always hear me.”
It would be easy to tear Suguru down, to deny his claims. Satoru cannot find it in himself to do so.
Instead, he says nothing, allowing his silence to serve as his answer. He is no longer needed here, one could argue that he wasn’t needed at all, but he cannot find it in himself to view this venture as a wasted one. He should return to his manse, however.
“Is there more you desire?” Satoru asks as a way to justify him being here longer. Perhaps he would also like to tempt the maiden. “To be visited by a god is a once in a lifetime blessing. You have only one chance to ask anything of me. Riches beyond your wildest dreams, and all that you have ever hoped for are within your reach. You need only ask.”
Suguru becomes lost in Satoru’s eyes that are no longer blue but a sea of swirling stars. There is desire in Suguru’s heart; it dwells inside of every mortal. What separates the worms from the dragons is how far they will go to appease their greed.
“I only wish for a happy union,” Suguru says, blinking himself out of the trance. “I doubt there will be love between Lord Gakuganji’s son and I but I would like for us to get along.”
“That is what you desire in all the world?”
“Yes.”
That is not true.
Not entirely. Suguru does not desire a happy union with the lord’s son. He wishes to be happy and loved in general.
“How dreadfully boring,” Satoru says, turning his back to Suguru to mask a smile. “Nevertheless, I will make it so.”
“Thank you, Kami-sama! I am most grateful!”
Satoru departs in a wisp of gold dust. However, he does not return to his manse. Using his godly senses, he finds Lord Gakuganji’s estate.
The wealth and prestige the lord possesses is prominent, and admittedly the lord’s son is not too terrible on the eyes. His heart and mind are absent of evil intent as well.
This match is the best that a milkmaid like Suguru could hope for. With time he may even grow to love this man.
There is nothing left for Satoru to do.
It should make him happy to be done with the mortal realm yet he returns to his palace above the clouds with a sour disposition.
At the very least he can finally wipe his hands clean of Suguru.
Of course, Satoru watches Suguru the very next day.
The wedding will take place in six days. Three days are set aside for the preparations and the following two days are designed for the young couple to converse and become acquainted. On the sixth day they will bind their souls.
Satoru doesn’t have an excuse for his actions any longer. By all means, he should be bored of the happenings of Suguru’s life yet he cannot pull himself away. He sits on his throne from sun up to well past sundown, observing Suguru’s every move.
Most of it is mundane yet his attention is unwavering. Shamefully, that is especially the case when Suguru goes to the stream every evening for his bath.
The first time Satoru saw his naked body he began to understand his infatuation. Being no stranger to the desires of flesh, he recognized his lust for Suguru though he has yet to understand the severity of it.
That doesn’t become apparent until the final day of preparations.
On the morrow, Suguru and his family will leave their farm and travel to the Lord’s estate for the wedding. Seeing as this is the last night in his childhood home, Suguru goes for a walk in the woods to say his goodbyes to the furry creatures he befriended in his youth. He stays in the woods well after sunset, and finds a lake to bathe in.
Satoru’s breath is taken away every time Suguru undresses. Already he has mapped out every line and curve of his body with his eyes. There are deities who are herald for their beauty and enticing charms yet Suguru puts them all to shame. He is lean, but soft in the places an alpha would —even a god — would appreciate.
While Suguru swims and bathes in the lake, Satoru thinks about his upcoming union. Once his husband marks him he will no longer be Suguru, his devout worshiper. He will be the wife of an heir, soon-to-be lord. His body, heart, and soul will no longer belong only to Kami-sama.
It is the way it should be and yet Satoru cannot quiet the unrest that lies in the hollowed space in his chest. He begins to wonder if he truly has a heart after all or if Suguru somehow created one for him.
Is that even possible?
“Kami-sama,” Suguru sighs in his sleep.
Hours of deep contemplation have breezed by. Satoru did not realize that that one question would rattle him. He can see that Suguru is lying on his futon now dressed in a small cotton tunic. From the sounds of it he is having a sweet dream.
Satoru peers into his mind, and what he sees makes him immediately morph into his usual “wanderer” form and go to where Suguru is. He cloaks his appearance to ensure no one can see him as he kneels beside Suguru, staring at his flushed face in awe.
Somehow, Suguru is dreaming of him.
More precisely, he is dreaming of the day they met inside the temple when Satoru touched his belly. However, in the dream, they both are nude and Satoru’s hand does not remain on Suguru’s stomach for long. It moves between his thighs, settling there.
As soon as it occurs in the dream, Suguru gasps and slides his hand under the covers to touch himself as well. This is the first time Suguru has had a dream like this. Satoru knows because he has been observing every aspect of his life, even his dreams.
It is also the first time Suguru has pleasured himself.
With a wicked grin, Satoru slides the covers down and lifts Suguru’s tunic to better see his clumsy movements. His thighs are clamped around his wrist, depriving Satoru of a clear view but he sees enough; more than he should be allowed all things considered.
Suguru is betrothed to another, and by the customs of these lands his body is for his husband’s eyes only. Yet Satoru does not abide by earthly laws. Besides, it is his name that Suguru whispers into the night. It is his visage that arouses him.
“Allow me to guide you,” Satoru whispers, ghosting his hand over Suguru’s hand to show him how to touch himself. “Your pearl needs all of your attention…”
Thighs parting a fraction, Suguru responds as though he can hear Satoru in his sleep. He starts rubbing the place that requires his attention most, panting and moaning as he writhes on his cot. Leaning closer, Satoru places his lips over Suguru’s ear.
The next time Suguru moans “Kami-sama” Satoru whispers his own name into his ear. It is a name no one knows, not even his deities.
“Satoru…” Suguru whimpers, clutching his thighs together as the pleasure intensifies. “Satoru…”
Closing his eyes, Satoru nods. “Yes, I am here.” He ghosts kisses along the curve of Suguru’s jaw and down the column of his neck. “How long have I desired this and did not understand it?”
This development is fairly recent. When he learned that Suguru was promised to another, he could only think about how Suguru belonged to him, no one else. It isn’t until now as he helps Suguru pleasure himself that he recognizes his true intentions.
Somehow, some way, he has developed a heart that only Suguru occupies.
Due to his inexperience, Suguru finishes quickly. He falls deeper into his slumber following that sweet release. His skin has a faint glow to it and his high cheekbones are flushed. He looks absolutely ravishing.
Satoru pulls the sheet up and tucks him in. He intends to leave but cannot find it in himself to do so.
Instead, he lays beside Suguru, on his side, watching him as he sleeps. In that moment it occurs to him that this is the first time he has laid down next to another.
Usually whenever he fucked someone he did not linger, and there was never a prelude to the encounter that required such an action. Admittedly, he has had a very lonely existence, and he thought that was simply the way things should be.
But now he is beginning to crave this contact more. Perhaps Sukuna was right in some regard.
At the time, Satoru did not lust for Suguru, but he longed for him in the way humans often long for companionship. Then that feeling evolved into the lust that consumes him now without him realizing it until he was trapped. Love is not an emotion he thinks he can ever have, however.
Then again, Suguru was the one person who could make himself heard when Satoru did not wish to listen. He was the one person who captured his attention, not for a moment, but for a lifetime.
Half past dawn, the Geto clan begins the day-long wedding procession to the Gakuganji estate.
Dressed in a pure white gown made of the finest materials the family could muster with his long hair adorned by flowers of the same color, Suguru makes for a beautiful bride.
Unlike most brides who are carried inside of a palanquin for this special occasion, Suguru is mounted on a mare. He maintains a brave face for his family but underneath that cool mask his heart beats like the wings of a hummingbird.
He has resigned himself to his fate though there is a large part of him that is restless.
In the past, Suguru would pray to Satoru without hesitation, but he is hesitant today. He wants to rely on his own strength in order to survive this unknown territory. There is also the fact that he believes that Satoru, the god who he has diligently served all of his life, will do everything in his power to ensure his union with the Gakuganji heir is a happy one.
That may have been the case before Satoru realized that he is more like his creations than he ever cared to admit. Desire, despair, lust, and love all exist within him, and only Suguru has brought forth those emotions.
Satoru cannot allow another to have Suguru, and he cannot allow Suguru to eventually wither away and die the way all humans do. He must immortalize him, he must claim him for eternity.
Once the decision is made, he abruptly acts.
Everyone in the procession looks around in terror and confusion when they hear what sounds like a stampede heading in their direction.
Riding on top of a white stallion, Satoru breaks through the trees, galloping up to where Suguru is waiting for him.
As soon as Suguru sees him, his face lights up and he outstretches his hands knowingly. Disregarding the cries and pleas of Suguru’s family, Satoru snatches Suguru off the mare onto his stallion, placing him in front so that he has to secure his arms around his waist to grab the reins again. He waits a second for Suguru to wave goodbye to his family out of faux courtesy and then he rides off into the sky straight to his heavenly manse.
This moment will forever be remembered as the day Kami-sama whisked away a beautiful maiden to his palace in the sky. Songs and stories will be written to honor the occassion but none of them will capture the truth nor the full capacity of how much Satoru adores Suguru.
“…I knew it!” Suguru gasps into the heated kiss. “I knew you would come for me!”
Desperately, Satoru tears at Suguru’s gown. The palace sits at their backs just a breath away for someone like him yet he could not wait any longer. As soon as they breached the clouds, they dismounted and he carried Suguru to the open field and all but pounced on him.
Now he has him laid out, hair and gown in disarray, breathes ragged as he tries to keep up with the kiss. Suguru may be virginal but he is far from docile. He matches Satoru’s fervency and intensity, his desire is so strong Satoru can smell it in the air.
“You…you were there in my dreams!” Suguru moans. He drags his nails along Satoru’s scalp to fist his hair as Satoru sucks over the vein on his neck. “I felt your presence all of my life…”
All of this time Suguru knew he was watching over him. Not in the empty way that all mortals believe their creator is watching. Suguru knew without a doubt. That means the years when Satoru was avoiding him must have been noticed as well.
If that is so, Satoru will make up for that. From this moment on, he will never deprive Suguru of his attention.
Satoru leans back, staring at Suguru’s flushed face. Some of the flowers have spilled from his hair and are now on the grass above him, his gown is torn yet pieces of it cling to his otherwise nude body. His body — is Satoru’s greatest creation to date. Ghosting his hand over Suguru’s chest, he marvels at his lovely brown nipples until his hand lowers to his flat stomach and then his plump thighs. The fine hairs on his cunt are wet with nectar.
“Beautiful,” Satoru breathes. “Unknowingly, I crafted you solely for me.” Lowering his head he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping it, lavishing it with attention. “You were mine from the start.”
Every part of Suguru receives this level of attention as well. He sucks each nipple until they are fat and tender, moving to Suguru’s stomach next to leave marks all over it.
“My wife is sensitive,” Satoru remarks amusedly when Suguru climaxes from only having his stomach licked and sucked on.
Suguru’s eyes are glazed and his thighs are glistening but he is eager for me. He cups Satoru’s face, pulling him up for a searing kiss. “And my husband is gluttonous,” he says.
Groaning, Satoru ends the kiss with a soft peck and moves to Suguru’s thighs. He loves how confident Suguru is. A god has taken him for a wife yet he does not tremble in fear or ask silly questions about the validity of their union. Suguru knows in his heart that from his conception he was made to be Satoru’s bride.
Suguru’s thighs, though plump, have definition. Minutes are spent groping them and admiring every inch of flesh. Suguru’s sun kissed skin is nothing Satoru has ever seen before yet it mystifies him all the same. For a milkmaid who has spent his youth working, Suguru’s skin is akin to a blank canvas in its purity. Even his hands are soft instead of calloused though Satoru believes he would have accepted Suguru in any way. Be it marred skin or rough hands, he would have loved him the same as he does now.
The appraisal of Suguru’s thighs gives him the reprieve he needs so that by the end of it he’s eager for another taste of the ecstasy that only his godly husband can bring. Satoru gets right to it, sucking the tender flesh of Suguru’s inner thighs, sighing as his joyous cries ring out across the clearing.
Suguru cries out his name, “Satoru! Husband, I cannot bear it!” He sits up on his elbows, panting heavily, writhing as his pleasure rises.
Reluctantly, Satoru moves away. A constellation of love bites are imprinted on Suguru’s skin, serving as visual proof of his obsession. Even how his tongue aches to have another taste.
“Are you exhausted?” Satoru asks, caressing the side of Suguru’s face with the back of his hand. “My love you must keep up with me.”
Suguru removes the remaining pieces of fabric, allowing them to fall on the grass. He then sits up and circles his arms around Satoru’s neck. They share a kiss. Satoru will never tire of this either. He wraps his arms around Suguru’s waist and pulls him to lie on top of him. Suguru is the kind of lover who observes and then reciprocates. He kisses Satoru’s lips, his chin, and all over his face as though worshiping it.
“I have many forms,” Satoru says, closing his eyes and enjoying the affection. “Some are ghastly.”
He is not always beautiful and benevolent. His deities can attest to that. They have seen the horrors he is capable of.
“I will love every one,” Suguru says, sliding down Satoru’s body to pepper kisses on his chest. He pauses at his pectorals to lap at one of his nipples curiously. “Will you show me someday?”
Satoru cups the back of Suguru’s head, petting it fondly. “Yes. I wish for you to know every aspect of my being.” His eyes close when Suguru begins sucking his nipple.
Suguru’s curious exploration is relatively tame though he does undress Satoru as he goes. There isn’t much to remove either. Aside from the tunic there is jewelry that Suguru carefully removes. Once he’s done, he lays his head on Satoru’s chest and caresses his arm. As brave as he is, he is still a maiden, and this is his wedding consummation.
“Let us retire to our chamber,” Satoru says as he transports them from the lawn to the bed in mere seconds.
The astonishment on Suguru’s face is overlapped by arousal because Satoru wastes no time returning to that space between Suguru’s thighs. He kisses his pearl before sucking it into his mouth, groaning when that sweet nectar spills. Like a shameless glutton, Satoru laps up every drop, returning his attention to his wife’s pearl again. Suguru is screaming now, and gripping the silk sheets. He’s digging the heels of his feet into the mattress, trying to run away from the overwhelming pressure that is building in his gut.
Satoru refuses to let him run from this. He grabs him under his thighs, clamping his hand down to hold in his place. Placing his entire mouth over Suguru’s cunt, he alternates between his pearl and the gushing hole he is eager to sink his cock into.
Suguru is sobbing now. Tears streak his reddened face as he arches his back and fills the chamber with melodic sounds. The more he cries for Satoru to stop, to show mercy, the more Satoru feasts. He has always had a sadistic streak, and although he will never gravely harm his beloved, he cannot exempt him from this aspect of him. His wife can withstand it. He says ‘stop’ but the way he rolls his hips, pushing his cunt further into Satoru’s mouth, means that he wishes for the opposite.
Even when Suguru erupts like a geyser, wetting the bedding with his juices, Satoru continues his actions.
“S…Satoru, please, make love to me…” Suguru’s eyes are heavily lidded and his voice is hoarse from screaming. “I wish to be yours in body and soul.”
Satoru cannot deny such a sincere request. He will have eternity to devour Suguru as much as he pleases. With that in mind, he removes his mouth. Because his wife is exhausted by this point, Satoru gathers his thighs in his arms, pressing them back without delay. His cock is bigger than the average alpha so he does not brutally impale Suguru as he would like.
He sinks his cock in slowly, allowing those tight walls to suck around it and gradually expand as he sinks deeper. Suguru digs his nails in Satoru’s arms and silently screams as his body tries to adjust. He is beautiful and determined in the way that he sniffles and nods when Satoru asks him if he is fine.
“That is good,” Satoru groans as he thrusts his hips, watching as his cock slowly disappears into pink guts. “I fear I cannot pull out now. Suguru, you are splendid. Taking my cock so beautifully.” He leans forward, pushing his cock in even deeper, watching as Suguru’s eyes bulge. “One day you will carry a god’s seed…”
And from this day forward Suguru will be the first goddess in existence. The first and only wife of the All Knowing.
Satoru cannot hold back any longer once that occurs to him. This one mortal has bestowed him with true purpose; has bestowed him with a heart that beats proudly for him and him only.
“Satoru…wait, husband!” Suguru touches Satoru’s lower stomach to try to push him back. But his attempts are weak, lacking in spirit.
Chuckling, Satoru grabs one of Suguru’s hands and kisses the back of it as he plows into him. “You were made for me, Suguru,” he says, repeatedly hitting that delicious bundle of nerves that are designed for pleasure. “Your mother and father did nothing, I molded you with my own hands, created you for my own enjoyment!”
Suguru gives up his false fight, fully embracing the ecstasy his husband gives him. He nods vigorously, agreeing with Satoru’s statements. “Yes, Kami-sama!”
That is not the name Satoru wishes to hear from Suguru’s lips now that they are one yet he does not stop Suguru from shouting it over and over. If anything he’s more inspired to fuck him with vigor. Suguru tightens his legs around his waist and scratches up his back and ass as if to mark him. His eyes take on a possessive gleam as he stares into Satoru’s eyes.
Satoru falls deeper in love at that moment.
Dropping his head, he buries it in the crook of Suguru’s sweaty neck and spills his seed inside of him. He is a god so it is a lot, so much so that Suguru’s stomach bloats and the excess spills out.
Suguru orgasms from being bred so intensely, walls tightening around Satoru’s cock and filling it with renewed vitality. While still buried inside of Suguru, Satoru’s cock hardens again and the marathon begins.
•
•
All throughout heaven and earth the sounds of their consummation can be heard though to a mortal’s ears it sounds like distant claps of thunder.
To Sukuna’s ears, it sounds like once again he was right.