A Hymn for salvation (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

rice lily

>>SUKUNA'S STORY GOT DELETED YOU CAN READ IT IN A03 LINK POSTED IN THE COMMENTS<<

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The love and curse of a rice lily

In Hanakotoba the Japanese form of the language of flowers, rice lily symbolizes cursed love

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(y/n) ) (l/n) did not have a family, rather she was given a temple fit for a king and loyal followers who hail the young child as the reborn goddess from a thousand years ago.
The winter of her birth was marked in history: to the shamans of a prophesied evil, to the church as divinity's coming, and none more so to the Gojo household as her breath gave life to the beloved child of heaven, Satoru.

Your blessed birth mother, ascended the position of the holy retainer, she was the nurturer who like the assistant mikos, your blood relatives, that have never left your side.
While your father, granted the position as the head of family and church, took to your much too early education and has stood as the substitute to a position that you would someday fill.
Both having acted more as a servant, than the parents that they were originally designed to be.

Even as young as you were, you knew that their touch was only of praise and awe. There was a foreign sense of emptiness within you as the child, their arms were devoid of love as your mother carried you to the ceremonial rooms and your father only spoke of praise to the goddess that was your title.
Not even the mikos, who assist your ceremonial clothes and have prepared all your items, the priest who teaches you of the rituals and prayers, nor temple children in training have looked at you as another child, as another human, who had need for affections.

To them you are a reborn goddess, it is your place to give rather than take.

Maybe that's why, no soul could console your cries, when the demon who haunts your bed comes to visit at night..
Maybe that's why, there was something that has urged you, since the day you took your first steps, to run. Because this throne you are seated on is built upon lies and lost stories of the past; that the people who will kiss the ground you may step on are delusional men and you are nothing more but a mere puppet controlled by their perverse sense of religion.
Maybe that's why you close your mouth and eat the words you choke on. You sit and stare, as they cry and confess the troubles of their soul without thought that it is but a mere child, who does not understand their woes.

They beg for deliverance on their knees and clasp their hands like chains that slowly tangle this small feeble body

You cry when you have come to realize that they are pitiful souls, eternally lost to the suffering of this world. Wretched are these men who cling to hope like a dog to a bone, to a point that they have mistaken your heart break as salvation of receiving your love.

To them you are the goddess beloved by every faction of the jujutsu society and even more, so you accept the script that is given and play it as they want.

The day you met Gojo Satoru, the beloved child of heaven that you have come to save from the grasp of death and gave life to, was like any other day in December.
The difference was simply made by him, specifically his blatant audacity to stare at your (e/c) ones.

With eyes that of a cloudless blue day when birds that sing, it is an oasis within a vast desert; he peers into your soul like no other has dared before. You don't understand why your father has let this happen idly bowing like he is supposed to beside the child, the incense that you have long accompanied with calming herbs and the winds chimes ringing like bells singing that this spring would be different, like no other, as long as there is a child with clouds in his head.