Okay I’m not a Baal stan but the idea I threw out about her taking her s/o’s vision……would not leave my mind….so y’all get

Okay I’m not a Baal stan but the idea I threw out about her taking her s/o’s vision……would not leave my mind….so y’all get a fic

Something has changed.

It’s only a slight change, but Baal is the goddess of eternity, and even the most imperceptible shift in the world around her does not escape her notice. Perhaps this is doubly so when it comes to you, her closest ally, her confidante, her love.

You’re distant recently. Your smiles are shaky, forced, and she has been planning to speak to you about it, but her duties as Archon and ruler of Inazuma have kept her from interacting with you long enough to properly discuss the matter.

But she has time now—she has made time, between her duties and yours, and had a dinner prepared. And so the two of you are alone, and she intends to resolve whatever is between the two of you, so the moment the two of you begin to eat, she says, “You’ve been acting strange recently.”

Your expression stays neutral, and your voice steady as you respond, “I have no idea what you mean.” Indeed, you could have fooled anyone with your demeanor.

Anyone but your lovely goddess. She takes a sip of her drink, watching over the rim as you lift the food to your mouth. She puts her glass down. “Your hands are shaking.”

You’re silent for a moment, then you smile, and it’s warm like it always was before. “Nothing gets past you, my love.”

She smiles back at you. “Now, tell me the truth.”

“I’m so tired lately. The resistance has been fighting tirelessly, and work keeps piling up.”

Baal hums, nodding slightly. “Yes, I understand that feeling well.”

“And worst of all is that I’m separated from you.” You finally look at her—really look at her, and your expression is so sad and genuine as you say, “I miss you.”

Her calculating, professional demeanor melts away, now that the root of the problem has been exposed. “Is that what this was about? I was worried I’d upset you. You need only have asked, and I would have been more than happy to give you my full attention.”

You clear your throat and glance pointedly at the servants in the room. “I think this conversation should be continued somewhere more private.”

“Yes. I think you’re right, my love.”

-

The conversation does not remain conversation for long, and that was to be expected. Baal had hoped from the beginning that whatever the matter was would be resolved and the two of you could end your night in her bedroom, something that hadn’t happened often recently.

Conversation turns to flirting turns to her lips on yours, your hands grasping desperately at her, and Baal can hardly remember what was being discussed, lost in the feeling of your touch and the warmth of your body—

Something’s wrong.

She can sense it. She doesn’t want to, not now, but then she parts from you and sees the glint of metal in the moonlight. In a flash, she seizes your wrist, her other hand ripping what you hold away from her.

A dagger.

She narrows her eyes at you, and your own are wide, terrified, staring back at her. She tries to force the ache in her chest out of her mind as she speaks. “Well, my love? Do you have an explanation for yourself?”

She wants to see anger in your eyes. Hatred. Disgust. She wants a reason to cut you down, because even if this was a shift in her world, a loss of something that should have been eternal, if you hated her, she could tell herself it was necessary. Berate herself for believing your honey-coated lies. Convince herself it would never happen again.

She sees only the same sadness from before. “Please,” you plead. “Please let me explain.”

“No.”

You don’t listen, and Baal doesn’t make an effort to stop your rambling because she wants to know. She wants so desperately to understand why. “My love—“

“Don’t call me that,” she growls, and she can hear her own heart shattering in the way her voice wavers, see it reflected in your eyes when she snaps at you.

You continue, softer this time. “You hurt so many people with this decree. People are suffering, losing parts of themselves, losing the ones they love for your vision of eternity. I didn’t want it to come to this. I tried…tried to find another way, but you’re so convinced of this mission that you’re willing to crush anyone who stands in your way.”

Through bared teeth, Baal says, “Enough. I’ve heard enough.

“I am willing to crush anyone who stands in my way. You are no exception.”

-

But you are.

Baal gave you to her guards while she decided what to do with you, what would be a suitable punishment for someone who earned her trust only to break it so completely.

And she finally settled on the only thing she could do.

She returns to you only a day later, and pretends not to care about the bruises that now litter your skin, pretends that she does not still feel the urge to embrace you, whisper to you that it would be alright. Her love for you cannot get in the way of her goal, and if you insist on standing in her way yourself, she will simply have to treat you as any other enemy of eternity.

“Baal,” you say, and she thinks you might reach for her if only your hands were free. As it is, your hands are bound and when you try to stand, a guard shoves you back to your knees. “Please, you don’t have to do this.”

She stops only a few feet away, her eyes never leaving you as she holds out a hand to the guard. “Give me the vision.” The guard is quick to obey, tearing it away from your hip and hurrying to give it to Baal.

Taking the power from your vision is the easy part—she’s done it over and over again, a routine that makes it easy for her to fall into the usual steps, to forget for a moment that it’s you she’s stealing the life from this time. To forget the ache in her chest that hasn’t left since the moment your betrayal was discovered.

When all is said and done, your eyes open with a dazed expression, like you’d just woken from a slumber. You blink, and make to move when you find your arms are bound. The panic is clear in your eyes as you struggle with your bonds for a moment, then look wildly around you, taking in your surroundings. “Where am I?” Finally, your eyes settle on her. “Who are you?”

For a moment, Baal falters, and while she always knew what taking someone’s vision did to them, it was different to see it, to hear it from the lips of someone she loved, to know that she was so entangled in your ambitions and visions of your world that memories of her could not be separated from memories of your aspirations. To know that she took something so precious to you, and that she was just as significant as that.

How bittersweet, to know now that it’s too late how important she was to you. She’s taken everything from you—and in doing so, taken everything from herself.

A divine cannot be divinely punished, but for a brief second, Baal wonders if this is fate’s way of inflicting karma on her for all that she’s done.