#facing the wrath of my father for him i hope he’s grateful

[timblrdrake]

lmfao um careful there buddy. youre just gonna end up telling him arent you.

i have an iron will and my mind is a fortress. i have no idea what you’re talking about.

[searenbound]

This is a brothers Grimm inspired retelling of sleeping beauty and my first proper somno and noncon piece so please be gentle with me and give me some constructive feedback so I can improve!.

Warnings: somnophilia, noncon, afab reader with she/her pronouns, vaginal penetration described, oral(reader receiving), delusional/yandere!Todoroki, fantasy au, I feel like it's open-ended but could be left as a standalone one shot

Pairing: prince!Shouto Todoroki x sleeping beauty!reader

Our story begins with a prince who’s grown restless under his father’s strict control.

The prince known as Shouto went on many trips, all of which were under secrecy to avoid the wrath of the mad king Enji. For if he was discovered by his father, he’d surely be severely punished.

Maybe with a beating, or perhaps isolation, or worse his siblings would suffer for his actions.

He couldn’t risk the consequences, that’s what he told himself when had discovered an old castle in ruins.

‘You’ll be late’ he tells him as he examines the thick overgrowth of thorny vines that wrap around the aged and crumbling walls.

‘You need to return’ he reminds himself, cutting through overgrowth and forcing his way into the old palace, ignoring his better judgment in favor of his curiosity.

If he were truly honest, he was hoping to find whatever valuables were left behind so he could keep on the run and never return home. So he may dare to be selfish and not worry about anyone else’s ill fate, if he were honest that is.

Clearly whoever had owned this castle was long gone, old rotting furniture and aged paintings that were caked in thick grime and dirt.

He almost turned back, nothing here could possibly be of worth right? And yet, on some sort of fateful divine intervention, he felt compelled to look around a little longer.

For what, he did not know, he certainly could not have even imagined he would discover the perfectly preserved body of a beautiful young maiden.

She appeared roughly his age when she was put to rest, he thinks it such a shame that she must have passed young.

He steps closer to observe her better, shocked to witness her chest rising and falling. He presses a hand against her soft face, noting the warmth and softness of her skin.

He knows it’s insane, her clothes were dusty and the room around them was clearly aged decades, perhaps centuries, but she is most assuredly alive just asleep.

Certainly, this must be a curse and undoubtedly one he was destined to break. Why else would he be so compelled to go searching for her?

But how?

If the stories of witches and their evil deeds and tricks were to be believed, then a kiss should do. So with this in mind, he leaned down to capture her lips, certain that the spark he felt was a sign from the heavens.

Soon his princesses would awaken and she would be so greatly impressed and grateful that she would marry him without question.

He waits what feels like one, two, three, four whole minutes, and watches in confused frustration when she remains peacefully asleep.

‘Then a kiss is not enough’ he comes to realize ‘I need to do more, I have to show her she was meant to be my wife’. It made perfect sense to him, there was no need to question himself or his motives behind this because why else would a simple kiss not work?

Clearly, he needed to consummate this divine union.

He shuddered at the thought, the reality of the situation hitting him suddenly and making him unsure if this was all a delusion of grandeur.

Maybe he should reevaluate and deal with the creeping sense of disgust in himself, or maybe this deep and sudden desire for her was truly divine?

But this was unquestionably a sinful crime in any other circumstance, something a valiant and righteous prince like himself should never allow themself to indulge in.

But his urge to move forward must be a sign, it’s brought him this far, and he wouldn’t even be here if he had ignored it.

If he did follow his compulsion, the consequences would be well worth the actions right? Just a husband committing to his wife, that’s what this was.

It isn’t wrong for him to lay his hands on her sleeping body, positioning her to aid him in removing her old clothes, and laid his hot lips on the warm flush that was revealed.

Allowing himself to travel every exposed inch until he had her sex in close sight. He laved his tongue over it in curiosity. Humming in approval when he found her to secrete the sweetest nectar he had ever had the pleasure of tasting.

He lapped away at her as if he would never be allowed to again, no, as if he had never been fed. As if he had been starving for longer than he could remember and this would be the only meal he would have in who knew how long.

He found himself greedily pressing his fingers into her little hole, desperately trying to drag out more of her essence. Long slender fingers moving back and forth, dragging against her inner walls and unknowingly inching a dam of sorts closer and closer to snapping.

It almost startled him when she squeaked out a pleasant-sounding moan, practically pouring her heavenly nectar like a fountain for him. Her sex tightening and convulsing around his fingers, he finds himself enraptured by her involuntary response to him; assured he was right to think that this was the correct action.

He resettled himself between her legs so his sex was in line with her sopping wet warmth quickly. He would take his time to know her body properly later but for now, he would focus on introducing his body to her own.

He takes a breath, takes himself in hand, and rests against her entrance. Pausing to steel his nerves before pushing into her with a single thrust. Savoring how her wet warmth parted around him and held so tightly.

‘This couldn’t be wrong when it felt so heavenly’ he thinks, throwing his head back.

He hears a murmur of discomfort from her, he figures he must be her first lover. Good. This doubtlessly meant that the divines had been saving her for him.

She was meant for this, meant to be his love, to be the vessel for his seed.

So, there was no need to hold back on her until she’d taken it all in her womb, right?

He silences her involuntary whines with hot wanton kisses, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth and explore every bit of it. Uncaring of the lack of response, he has plenty of time to know what her kiss truly felt like once she awakens.

He lets himself indulge in her. Dragging his finger along the little pearl of pleasure that made her leak more of her essence. His hips slapped against her at a rough and quick pace, chasing a pleasure that was well worth the effort.

He wondered, would she accept loving this rough when she did wake? Would she want the way he was being so forceful or would she rather him be gentle and tender? He supposed he could be gentle.

It did sound rather nice, but he would honestly prefer this. He thinks maybe she would too, her sex twitched and spasmed so desperately around him in response to his actions. Almost as if to wring out his love, it’s hard to imagine she wasn’t or wouldn’t enjoy this.

He wondered if she would call his name loudly, he could imagine it clearly based on the sounds she was already making.

‘S-Shou! Oh, Shouto! Please!’ she’d cry out, on the verge of spilling over again and pulling him with her, accepting every drop of his white-hot love inside her.

He barely catches himself from clasping on top of her, he can feel himself starting to stir again inside of her. How must this look to her?

“W-who are you?! W-what are you do—!”.

He cuts her off with a kiss, frowning when she jerks her face away. Didn’t she understand that he was her husband now?!

“Your husband,” he says it calmly, almost coldly as his hips pick up speed again. It would seem he’d have to teach her this new role as his wife.

And this is where we leave, with a king and his queen. One will live happily ever after, the other has no option but to be “happy” with her new life.

Tag list: @when-you-are-just-done @justabratsworld @kkatsukiswife

[dirtytransmasc]

[mild tw for marital rape/forced 'consent' its only referenced a little, but it feels necessary to mention it]

imagine Alicent only standing up for herself when Aegon is in the picture. Imagine her talking her son to her chambers cause he's fussy and won't go down for bed and was asking for his mum, and she has him tucked close, blissfully asleep, and Viserys calls for her.

she knows she can't refuse, but she tells the servant he had sent to make him aware of Aegon's state. he still demands that she be brought to his chambers and that the babe go back to his nursemaid. she looks down at her baby, who's now woken due to the disturbance, who is staring up at her with soft tired eyes, a little yawn escaping him.

she doesn't want to go, she doesn't want to be forced to take her husband, to pleasure him at her own discomfort. she doesn't want to leave her son, to have him sent back to bed where he will remain restless and in the care of someone who is not his mother. she had never want to refuse more than she did in that moment.

she hesitates, her facade falters. Aegon is still looking up at her as tears well up in her eyes. he quirks his head at her, fingers reaching for her cheeks as if to comfort her. with a sudden conviction, she takes him in her arms, rising from the bed, requesting a robe and a blanket. when her servant looks at her in question, she clarifies that she will be taking Aegon with her and does not wish to rouse him in attempts to dress him. they look at her with shock, but don't voice the concern written on their faces.

they bring her Viserys's favorite robe. Alicent recognizes it from her time with Rhaenyra and Aemma. she's worn it before, Viserys has made sure the servants bring it to her every time he requests her. she hates the way it feels against her skin, knowing why he makes her wear it. she wraps aegon in his blanket, soft and royal blue, his hands beginning to play with its golden tassles as she tucks him inside her robe, pressed to her chest with care.

even as fear bites at her heels, anxiety churning her stomach, she walks to Viserys's chamber with her held high. she knows she is only asking for her husband's wrath; she knows she should just obey him, but she just can't. her son will not suffer a sleepless night and horrid following day all because her husband feels the need to use her body once more. he will not suffer at his father's hands tonight, even if she has to endure Viserys's anger for it.

she enters her husband's chambers, finding him in bed, in a white night gown, clearly ready to use her; he was never subtle when he asked for her, not even the first time.

she pauses in the doorway, pulling back the robe slightly, making him aware of Aegon's presence. she watches his face fall, barely muted anger. she holds onto Aegon tighter. part of her fears he may hurt her for this disturbance, but more of her fears he will hurt Aegon on her behalf.

"I told the damned servants to take him," his voice is warped and cruel, just an angry scowl of sorts.

"Aegon is not well, dear husband... I could not leave him," she admits before he can say anything else. she puts her foot forward as a mother, hoping to claim mercy from the man who made her one.

he mutters something in response, not quite loud enough for her to hear. she has a feeling she is grateful for that.

"what was it you needed, my dear?" she tries to sound sweet and kind, in attempts to abate his anger, "I'm sure I could still attend to it."

"you know what I wanted," he yelled. it had been the first time he'd truly raised his voice to her. she couldn't help but gasp, stepping back one step, than two, stopping when Aegon began to fuss, curling around him instead.

"Please Viserys, the baby." she ducks her head down to press her against his whispy white hair. her son his huffing, as if about to cry, and she's sure if she could see his face, his little cheeks would be red and his eyes would be crinkled and wet, his lip puckered. she begins to rock him slightly, still afraid to move.

"your'e dismissed," he grunts, but his tone gives it away. she knows he doesn't mean it, the if she leaves she will be in more trouble. she questions staying, calling a servant to take Aegon and giving him what he wants, but decides against it. he would not come before her son, not now, not ever.

"I'm sorry, my dear, another night, when I do not have Aegon to tend to," she forces some cheer into her tone, "he is still so young, so helpless. he needs his mother. I'm sure you understand?"

"he is not the only one in need of you." he had not lost his anger yet. not even for the sake of his son.

"yes, of course. forgive me. only he is not as understanding as you, my love." that wasn't the truth, Aegon was more kind and understanding at a year old, than viserys was in all of his years. "I will leave now. I am sorry for the disturbance."

she pauses for a moment, waiting for her husbands reaction. when he doesn't lash out at her, she breathes a quiet sigh of relief, feeling as though she has evaded a great beast. her heart calms in her chest, slowing from its fluttering and her stomachs stops its dizzing ache. she questions turning and running, fleeing from his presence before he can change his mind, but knows better.

she hurries to his side, eyeing him all the while, each step calculated, avoiding cracking any eggshells, until she is close enough to kiss his cheek. he allows it, and gives Aegon grace when he reaches out for him, letting him play with his finger a moment, before pulling it away, not even turning away fully before sneering. she takes that as her cue to leave, this one being much more genuine than the last.

"goodnight dear husband." he says nothing. she takes Aegon's little hand, waving it slightly, "say goodnight Aegon."

her son tries to imitate her, though unintelligible, as a toddler would. she continues to smile and coo at him even when his father ignores him, not letting him feel his father's scorn, quickly turning towards the door and back to her own chambers.

the second the door is close she feels herself sag, she would have fallen to the floor right then and there had there not been kingsgaurd watching. instead she holds her head high once more, walking calm and steady, like a queen should.

Aegon settles his forehead against her collar, giving a great yawn against her skin. she smiles at him fondly, kissing his brow, earning a tired little giggle from him. it hits her that he is unaware of the trouble he just saved her from. she feels equal parts relief as she does terror; she hopes he never knows, never understands, but is so so thankful for it none the less.

the second she steps into her chambers she pulls of the robe, setting it aside carefully despite the pain it brings her, respecting the memories it carried. she pulls back the covers before smothering her and her son amongst them. he's quick to curl against her, quite tuckered out after their harrowing adventure, even if he was unaware of its true weight. she herself still wanted to cry, but was similarly too tired to keep her eyes open for another moment. tomorrow, she tells herself, tomorrow will be difficult, but tonight you have your son, tonight you have a chance to rest.

so she does, she holds him close, tracing fingers over the gold threaded patterned of his blanket, feeling the shifting of his chest as he breathes and the tickle of his hair against her neck. all is well in that moment. she drifts to sleep at the thought.

[mistresswriter19]

His Prize Possession

Striker X Oc ( Requested By @scarlattobrightstar )

Author's Note: This is a very long delayed request I am so sorry about this one taking forever but I hope you enjoy. I'll definitely try not to keep others waiting like this. Really appreciate the support ^^

Mistresswriter19 X

Ellie eyes flutter with a blur using her claw to rub so she can see clearly she looks up

Ellie: Uhh I need a boyfriend…

Getting out of bed, Ellie went skip breakfast, taking a shower, putting her lovely dress on and tira with her dark green fluffy coat around her elegant Cinderella color blue dress top along with her white skirt that sparkles as she twirls with glee then opens the door heading out of the royal area because she was in a mood for a hotdog but of course if she says it in her area they would laugh and mock. Ellie had to go a different route: the area where the best hot dogs were was in " Not Mafia Town". She knew it was the worst idea to go alone so she called Blitzo to help her out.

Blitzo: Hey girl! How's it going didn't get any cock yet?

Ellie: Uhhh no…. I just wanted a hot dog and I knew going by myself would be dangerous.

Blitzo: Well you came to the right bodyguard girl I can grant ya full protection like this rifle, pistol, handgun, arrow, chainsaw, needles, and silencer really does work smoothly.

Ellie: I think I'll be happy whatever doesn't get me shot.

Blitzo: I got ya back babe~

The two imps enter "Not Mafia Town" one of the most dangerous places to enter in the ring of wrath. Everywhere you would go someone would be either shot, building would be burn into flames, deadly car chases, and torture. It made Ellie's skin crawl as Blitzo would cuss out a storm or shoot anyone that got near him or Ellie. For that Ellie kind of questioned Blitzo and his weird ways but she was grateful to trust him as a friend. Finally a nearby hotdog stand.

Blitzo: You think you can add cheese and hot sauce on that dog Senior ~

Hot Dog Imp: Sure I guess gonna cost ya more

Blitzo: Fuck it lay it on me

Ellie: One hotdog with extra mustard please

( BANG, BANG, BANG)

Blitzo: Are you fucking kidding me!?

Ellie look back to see a gang of sharks shooting there guns as one of them grabbed Ellie by the waist taking her in the car using rope and ducktape. Blitzo was fighting and shooting more of the Mafia sharks as he turns back to see Ellie kidnapped

Blitzo: ELLIE!!!!!! ( CLANK)

Crimson: That's for fucking shooting most of my men prick!

The head boss of the Mafia known as Moxie's father used a loaded gun to knock Blitzo out as he was dragged but in a sack being taken away like Ellie. In the car a good looking around as she sees a very attractive imp that wasn't like any others in the car who was looking the other side but Ellie kept her gaze on him he then look back as she turned away fast with her face turning into pink which made this rattlesnake imp chuckle. Ellie was already drawn to him but it seems strange how a cowboy like him can be involved with the Mafia gang.

Crimson: Alright cowboy show me what you got!

Striker: First of all I'm kinda rusty haven't kidnapped anyone for a while so this bastsrd I had to fucking deal with from the harvest moon festival and my lair of the ring of wrath!

Blitzo: OH YOU'RE THE SEXY ASS COWBOY!

Striker: And this pretty little thing is a royal which I despise but I think I wanna keep her for a while. She sparks my interest ( Place his claw caressed her neck)

Crimson: Good start cowboy, need more fuckers like you around come with me to the officer we have some discussing to do

Striker: Right boss, I'll be back with you later princess ~

Ellie: Uhhh…

In the office Crimson discuss the situation between why he wanted a royal because most of the royals are powerful compared to the mafia industry so what Crimson wants vengeance and goes out selecting a royal to experimented with no mercy this is when he calls on Striker and cowboy rattlesnake who would kill a royal in a heartbeat. However the Mafia crew is going to have a get together party once the party is finished at midnight Striker must exterminate the royal.

Striker: Some of your ways when it comes to dealing with royals makes me sick to my stomach

Crimson: I get my profit those bitches and fuckers stole millions from my industry and I want all of them to pay even for ones who don't know who the fuck I am

Striker: I always hated royals from all my years. I see some cry, some beg and some fight which makes me lose my temper to do the bidding and get paid .

Crimson: And this is why you're one of my most valuable clients who's a cowboy~

Striker: I'll kill the royal at midnight

Crimson: Good choice you can do whatever you want with her but when midnight comes it's off with her head.

Striker: Yes boss…

In the distance Ellie can hear Blitzo cursing once again a storm using anything to break but he keeps getting zapped causing him to knock out. Ellie was shaken and felt like a caged animal looking around seeing powerful shark gangsters with their guns, cigarettes, playing pool and drinking and talking as Ellie couldn't help but cry as she remembered she never liked being alone. She tried to calm herself down as she healed and exhaled while curled up in a ball. Suddenly Ellie hears the cage open and she looks up to see the cowboy that held her captive earlier in the car.

Striker: I brought you something to eat and some water. You're going to need it

Ellie didn't know what to do either if she should trust this rattlesnake imp or not but she had no choice maybe she can gain his trust. Ellie grabbed the water bottle off his claw and had the food he brought for her. She finished her white gloved hands tugged on her dress.

Striker: Please stop crying it makes my job harder…

Ellie: Why are you doing this?

Striker: Princess you do not want to interfere with someone like me.

Ellie: I can see in your eyes that you hate it… I just know

Striker: We had to make sacrifices and for me I made a ton didn't get me anymore but it get me some drinks or something to eat once in a wild I just can't think just do the thing.

Ellie: What if you don't want to

Striker: Have to suck it out like I always done

Ellie: You were flirty with me earlier but seems like you hate me to guts

Striker: It's just for show but truth be told you are a beautiful princess I laid my eyes on. I can't get attached to you

Ellie: What if you change, leave here and have a better life without the Mafia? They play really dirty and they're going after the royals like me.

Striker: There's nothing you can change princess about me

Ellie: I understand you just let me

Striker: NO!

Ellie try not to show fear when Striker tugged on her white glove hand. Ellie just stood still with the tears down her eyes Striker kept yelling at her to stop that because he will lose it. Ellie turned away but she felt her lips place into Striker's who gracefully kissed her full of passion. He laid her down as Ellie wrapped her arms around his neck. The bodied were close to each other Striker knows what he's doing is wrong especially to the royals. Ellie then also hugged him in between there passionate kiss. Striker let's her go but Ellie didn't want him to leave her.

Striker: I'll be back for you Ellie

Ellie: H…H…how did you know my name?

Striker: I know alot of royals but you the good ones.

Placing his finger around her face to hold Ellie's tear he gives her another kiss and he closes the cage and hops down to join Crimson. Ellie placed her gloved hand on her cheek still feeling warmth from Striker's touch.

Ellie: Striker…

In the party, the Mafia gang was using Blitzo as a pintia. Making Crimson laugh off a storm as Blitzo pretends to enjoys himself since he always gets into situations like this. However for some reason he's suppose to be torture but the Mafia gang seem to like him especially how he made drinks and this made Crimson piss more since he knows Blitzo is his son's boss he can be crazy but he's there for his crew. Something that Crimson never did for Moxxie as a father figure. Striker comes in drinking bottles of whiskey when he see Blitzo his blood boiled .

Blitzo: So came to talk dirty sex me

Striker: What the fuck are you saying?

Blitzo: ( Hiccups) I meant to say "saaaaaay you came to talk dirty about my suit.

Striker: I'm not gonna either bother

Blitzo: Alright fuck you then but listen cowboy your on my one night stand list!

Striker rolled his eyes he dropped his glass when he say the clock struck midnight with Crimson lighting a cigar and he went up to Striker.

Crimson: It's time cowboy go get the princess.

Striker sighs as he goes back to the wearhouse where he stares at the captive Princess for a long time she was singing and Striker thought it was beautiful. He felt like she was a true Cinderella or Belle. Striker opens the cage as Ellie looks back frighten which crushed Striker's heart.

Ellie: NO….NOOO NOOO AAHHH!!!! ( Covers mouth )

Striker: Just follow my lead darling. Your not going to die.

Ellie look back at him as she nods her head Striker then ties her with rope around her arms carrying her like a princess going up to Crimson and the Mafia Gang as they watched Striker carrying Ellie in his arms.

Striker: She wouldn't stop squirming so I held her to calm her down but doesn't know that she'll die.

Crimson: What a devious way of making her think. I love it!

Striker gives Ellie to Crimson as she's placed on a old beat up mattress. He takes the rope out of her arms and replaced it with rusty chains that go on bed post. Crimson lifted up Ellie's dress and threw her green fluffy coat aside she knew what was going to happen and wanted to scream but can she trust Striker.

Crimson: Since you been good with capturing many royals I decide this you can fuck her then kill her

Striker: My pleasure Crimson.

Crimson: If the bitch gives you any problems just shoot her.

Striker attends to walks to Ellie as she tugged on the rusty chains which lead to nothing her legs attend to shake. Striker's body went up against hers as she gasps he then kisses her with passion as she does the same with him behind his back Striker pulls out his pistol to shoot a Mafia shark down.

Crimson: THE FUCK GET HIM!

The Mafia sharks drawn there weapons and start to shoot. Striker shoot in between while protecting Ellie in his arms. Then out of nowhere Blitzo breaks free as he starts to fight and shoot up a rampage while chugging down leftover booze at the same time. Striker then breaks the rusty chains with his kicks and grabs Ellie managing to escape.

Ellie: What about Blitzo

Striker: Ehh I was going to kill him but maybe another time.

Ellie: Blitzo is my friend

Striker: Princess your making it really hard for me but I can't stand you being sad and not wanted.

Ellie: I'm no longer sad Striker, because I have you.

Blitzo had explosive as he plans to burn the place as he jumped out of the window as Striker dives down running from the flame as Ellie holds onto him, never letting go. They made it as they both panted as he then goes to bombproof pulling out his poncho wrapping it around Ellie to keep her warm and showing a way of comfort.

Striker: It will keep you warm

Ellie: Thank you

Striker: Your my prize possession Ellie

Ellie looked back and couldn't help but cry but this time she smiled and embraced her body close to Striker to two of them once again kissing showing their love and connection together. The two ride on Striker's horse as Ellie fell asleep into Striker's arm he rubbed her soft smooth magenta purple shade hair as they made it to the royal where Striker holds Ellie in place carrying her upstairs and putting her back to bed. He looks back at the sky where the colors purple and green form reminded of himself and Ellie. He attends to get up but Ellie tugged on his coat

Ellie: Please stay…

Striker: I'll stay for you my princess.

The two laid in bed together cuddling under the sheets slowly falling asleep together what a day it was almost being killed and shot but Striker knows for him he has to face it however someone like Ellie he didn't want her to face that danger side of anywhere she would go.

Striker: Blitzo made it because I like you so much your lucky I spared him .

Ellie turns to see a photo Blitzo posted on his Sinstagram he in the hospital with his crew and daughter with get well flowers and cheese and hot sauce on the table

Blitzo: I LIVED BITCH XO

Ellie giggle and was glad that her friend Blitzo was alive she then heard her stomach growl she forgot to eat anything.

Striker got out of bed to step out as Ellie lay there exhausted to do anything. She was happy to have someone like Striker she'll definitely help him change and be more loving and understanding Ellie has a good sense of that because compare to anyone in the royals she was always a devoted and kind princess. Striker return as be gives the bag to Ellie her eyes sparkle when she saw it was a hot dog with extra mustard that's all she ever wanted but maybe it was good because sure she got kidnapped but she finally went home with a cowboy who doesn't seen not so bad after all.

Ellie: Thank you Striker for everything

Striker: Don't need to thank me Ellie your life means more anything to me

Ellie: Your life matters too

Striker: I'll be by your side

~End~

[sword-is-bored]

A Change in Jobs

Link x Reader

(This is a concept for a new story I want to write? Idk)

“A Fathers Love” the prequel to this :)

Skyward Sword!

“Are you sure you’ll be okay helping me? I don’t want to put you in danger.” Link’s voice was weak as (Y/n) carried him. His arm was wrapped around their shoulder, their other arm holding him upright as they walked. Faron Woods had very few places for them to hide from the wrath of Ghirahim. Blood dripped down his side, and his face was messed up too. He was limping, one of Ghirahim’s daggers sticking out of his leg. (Y/n) dragged him to the Sealed Temple and set him down. “Even if I do get in trouble…” They said, propping him up. “I owe you the favor. You saved me. Besides, I’m more familiar with being in danger. I can handle it.” (Y/n)’s hand wrapped around the dagger in Link’s leg. They pulled, a cry escaping his mouth. (Y/n)‘s hand immediately pressed into the wound, applying pressure. Link hissed, his own hand coming to press the wound as well. “Good, keep your hand there.” (Y/n) said and tore off a strip of their shirt. They wrapped it around Link, keeping it tight but loose enough for circulation. Link released his leg and felt the ache begin to soothe. (Y/n) continued their work on patching Link up.

For a moment he didn’t see Ghirahim’s underling. He didn’t see the person who’d been tormenting him alongside the demon king. He saw the young adult who looked at scared as he was. The painted diamonds on their face to impress their demon lord. They worked hard to patch Link up, and even got him out of the fight. “Father! Stop!” Their voice had rang clear through the room, and Ghirahim was towering over Link. He did stop. His eyes flickered, and for a moment the red within them vanished. A soft blue hue hiding behind those eyes. (Y/n) had grabbed Link and dragged him out of the room as Ghirahim stared.

For months (Y/n) had been threatening to kill him all the same. Laughing at his pain, cheering on Ghirahim. (Y/n) pulled up Link’s shirt to reveal another wound. They began to apply a makeshift bandage as well. Link had watched as Ghirahim threw them in the way of a monster. One of his own monsters. (Y/n) had begged and pleaded for Ghirahim to save them, but he vanished. Leaving (Y/n) to die. Link had recognized this and saved (Y/n). Their face reflected the confusion and horror they were facing, but seemed grateful. They left to find Ghirahim as well. Link noticed they seemed more distant to the demon lord and well… now it made sense. (Y/n) was trying to repay him in some way.

(Y/n) looked up and sighed, pressing a hand to Link’s face. “Not much I can do about that. I’m sorry.” They said, sitting back. “It’s alright. I feel a lot better. Thank you.” Link said, pushing himself to stand. (Y/n) watched and stood as well, awkwardly looking into Faron Woods. “I should leave now.” Link said, shuffling to the door of the Sealed Temple. (Y/n) nodded and watched him carefully. Link realized something. “Aren’t you going back to Ghirahim?” (Y/n) bit their lip and turned back to the woods. “Maybe. I don’t know.” They said quietly. “To tell you the truth… I’m worried. He’s not the same man I grew up with. I’m concerned he’ll hurt me if I go back after what I’ve done.”

Link was confused. “Not the same man?” (Y/n) nodded. “He used to be a lot more kind. When the ground started shaking his skin and hair changed. He changed. From my father Ghirahim to… a Demon Lord. He’s never touched me before, but I know helping you survive will royally piss him off. I don’t think he’ll hold back. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go.” Link could feel the hope of escape radiating off of them. They were nervous about seeing Ghirahim again. “Would you like to come with me?” He offered. “There’s a safe place for you in Skyloft, and if you’d like to continue searching for my friend with me I know you’re skilled. And you have inside information about how Ghirahim and his army works. You can finally be yourself.”

(Y/n)’s harsh demeanor seemed to crack. Link saw a child underneath the walls they had built up. Their eyes widened and their shoulders relaxed. Their once stiff and tall stature shrunk in on itself. “I don’t know how I can repay you. I’ve been terrible the entire time, and you’ve been nothing but kind.” They said quietly. “Think of it as… a change in pace. A change in employment. Work for good instead of evil.” Link held out his hand. They took it and looked into his eyes. A smile crossed their face, lighting up their entire body. Link felt a blush creep on his face, a feeling within him wanted to see this smile more. “Alright, yeah. That makes sense. I’ll help.”

[mslanna]

Second-Hand Pain

Be My Guest chapter 17 now up at AO3

In which Tav's shape is on the menu again but for different reasons. Also devils may be very soft, they still be devils.

Tav wakes because their left arm hurts like hell. A moment later, pain shoots through their left leg as well. The fuck? They try to get out of bed, but stumble because everything seems to hurt even though they are perfectly fine.

They hit the ground with a groan and crouch for a moment taking inventory. But they are alone. The pain sears up and Tav screams. The room is soundproof but in that moment Tav regrets it. They want to call help. Raphael’s name comes from their mouth instinctively.

To their surprise, the devil answers. Raphael pokes his head through the door and vanishes again, wrath written over his features. Tav hopes he knows what he is doing. They feel no better. Having a body seems like an entirely bad idea.

Tav crawls to their stash of healing water, though they don’t know what it can do against phantom pains. Halfway there, they give up and curl around the blinding agony that shoots through their body.

It gets better some time. Tav doesn’t know how long they lay on the cold floor, but they can breathe again. The air grates through their lungs like dust and acid, but they can breathe. Every muscle hums with exertion. Their skin burns with the trails of a thousand fire ants.

When they try to raise their head, pain like a clamp crushes their skull. With a sigh, Tav just lies back, resigned to wait this out. The door opens again and shortly after, Raphael’s head appears over Tav. They try a smile but it falls short. The greeting doesn’t make it past a cough either.

The devil gathers them up in his arms carefully and puts them back onto the bed. Tav winces, but it is more a reflex in memory of pain that actual hurt. "You will be alright soon," Raphael assures them as he runs his hands over their body, checking for actual injuries. When he comes up dry, relief softens his face.

"What?" Tav gets out.

"Just confirming your suspicion." His mouth turns into a hard line. "Thanks to Haarlep, we know now that there are fiends indeed who would turn you in or into a corpse for the favour of my father. Soon, we will know them all."

"Haarps?"

"In better shape than you are, love." He takes Tav’s hand into his. "They are, after all, a fiend and more sturdy than you can ever hope to be."

While that is reassuring, Tav wonders what happened to the incubus and if they are indeed alright. And what in the nine hells Raphael promised for their cooperation. They take a deep breath. "Tell me?" Each word hurts, but they want to know.

Raphael cups their face with one hand. "If you insist. But it is not a tale for weak minds and stomachs." He waits and when Tav smiles and nods encouragingly, he acquiesces with a sigh.

"Unwise as ever. When usually you do as I ask when in bed." But he smiles as he says it and recounts the events from the moment, Tav mentioned that devils kept tabs on their whereabouts.

"As you can see, Haarlep is quite persuasive when they want to be, and very useful," Raphael ends. "And with the vanished fiends allegedly on a mission as reward for their actions, they will easily lure in the remaining conspirators. Unless I drag their names from the devils’ lips first."

For the first time, Tav sees actual malice in Raphael’s eyes. The idea to rip his prisoners apart slowly excites him. If the look of utter violence were directed at them, Tav would have been scared. As it is, they are merely unsettled about this side of their devil they haven’t seen before. Though it certainly always existed.

"You will torture them anyway, won’t you?" Tav asks.

"Of course." Raphael smiles tightly. "Nobody touches what is mine with impunity. Certainly, nobody touches you without retribution." His eyes are soft, as stark contrast to the harsh words. "They regret what they did. And they will have time to regret it even more."

"I thought I was safe here." Tav looks at their devil. "That's the whole reason for my confinement."

"You will not come to harm in my house," Raphael says, ignoring the current state of things. "Once the perpetrators are made an example off, copycats will think twice."

Tav doesn't doubt the fiends will think abut it. But what good will that do for devils more afraid of Mephistopheles? Or Asmodeus? They wince in their attempt to sit up and are immediately stopped by Raphael.

"You need to rest now," he insists. "We can show the devils that you are not afraid to walk these halls when you are fully healed."

Clasping his hand with theirs, Tav smiles. "Thank you." They kiss his fingertips. "I want to see Haarlep, though. They are in bad shape."

Raphael turns his hands as restrains, pressing Tav into the bed. "You cannot move without pain blossoming over your face. You will stay put."

"Can Haarlep come here?"

"No. I will not have them in this safe place."

"But if I feel bad, they have to be horrible."

I left them in the pool with the restoration fountains," Raphael says. "If they don't feel better, it is not my doing."

One day, Tav promises themself, one day they will take both devils and bang their heads together until they come to their senses. This toxic rivalry was helping nobody. Considering how long the history those two shared was it might wear out Tav’s muscles long before anything happened though.

"I am surprised they helped you at all," Tav relaxes under the gentle pressure of Raphael's hands.

"Haarlep is an incubus. Like all fiends, they can be bought." The devil moves his hands gently over their chest, warmth seeping from his palms into Tav's skin. The pain recedes and it may be Haarlep frolicking in the pool or Raphael's touch. "If they like you so much, maybe talk to them again about the price of their cooperation."

"Oh, Haarlep is going to milk this whole thing for all they can." Tav shakes their head.

"Of course. Which is why a word to beat down the prices would be worth a lot."

The levity buoys Tav out of their misery long enough for a soft chuckle. Then they grip the devil's hands and still them on heir chest. "Raphael. I'm scared."

In response, the devil drops a kiss onto Tav's head. "I understand." Then he stands, looking the human in his care over fondly. They risked their soul for this, for his war and rise to king of all nine hells. It is his responsibility to keep them safe at least.

The attacks on Tav prove that he is on the winning path. All he has to do is keep going. And he will. Soon enough it will be clear that the only way to get through this intact is ally with him. And until then – Raphael smiles. He has ideas how to ensure his human will survive the ordeal alive and most happy.

When the devil is gone, Tav takes inventory of their body again. Nothing hurts any longer. Not as such. But the muscles throb with the memory of pain, their whole body hums with the second-hand recovery. They lay back and sleep claims them once more with the promise of warm healing.

# # #

Tav wakes because something slips against their back – hot and broad. The air smells of Raphael, and his skins settles against theirs. Tav presses into him with a little sigh.

"You usually sleep through this." Raphael's words trickle down their throat and an arm cradles them tightly to the devil.

"Nervous," Tav mumbles. "Worried."

"No need for that." A leg and the rail wrap around the human before a wing settles over them.

Tav wonders, stomach vaulting, how often they missed Raphael getting a side of cuddles while they slept. How long did he stay? In their effort to stay awake until he leaves again, Tav drifts into sleep.

And when they wake alone, it isn't a melancholy thing any longer. Their devil doesn't have much time, but they get it all. The exhilaration overpowers the squirming of their stomach when Tav leaves the suite.

Outside, nothing changed in the House of Hope. Devils still mill around and disregard them. Tav still has to weave around large fiends that ignore their existence. But the watched feeling has a different taste now – more keeping an eye out than observing patterns.

As soon as they can, Tav visits Haarlep who has to suffer a thorough examination of their person. The incubus' left arm is patted down and scrutinised for scars and bruises.

"That's how to get you to your knees?" Haarlep teases, when Tav turns their attention their left leg. They spread indecently. "Let me help you."

"Stop playing, Haarps." Tav slaps their thigh. "I'm trying to see if you're really alright. That shit hurt. How, what-" they take a deep breath.

"Come here, mouse." Haarlep closes their legs and pat the mattress beside them. When Tav obeys, they put an arm around the paladin's shoulders and pull them against their side. "I am good. I am very good indeed. It was a delicious little game."

"He used you as bait." Tav tries to sound angry.

"That he did." Haarlep leans against the headpiece of the bed with a sigh. "And what good bait I was."

"They hurt you!"

"Oh yes. And then," the incubus' tone turns hungry, "then I hurt them. Well, we did. But I sank my nails and teeth deeply into infernal flesh. I tasted the blood of the hells and bathed in the screams of the falling. Raphael allowed me to heal them three times already. It is all very dreamy."

"They – they are still alive?" Tav shivers despite the heat of the fiend seeping into them.

"In a manner of speaking. They may still be of use. Raphael is careful." Haarlep presses Tav's face to their chest. "He will let me kill them when he is sure he has all of the conspirators. Which may be never, but more fun for me. And who knows what will drop from those desperate lips next time I get my hands on them. The line between pleasure and pain can cut so deep."

Tav falls silent, trying to ban lewd, sanguinary images from their mind. An incubus can make about anything arousing and the way Haarlep licks their lips, they contemplate dismemberment at the least. "Why did you agree to it?" they finally ask.

"Oh, I was compensated, no worries." Haarlep squeezes their shoulder.

"Yes, Raphael asked me to haggle for the price of your cooperation."

The incubus breaks into peals of laughter. "Oh, my sweet, I know how important your safety is to our dear cambion. I will not be bartered with."

"Thought so." Tav sighs.

"Cheer up. He is arch duke of three hells already. He can afford it."

"I'm glad I don't have to foot your bill."

"Me too. I already have everything you have to offer. Apart from your soul, but we all know you acted very stupid about that tiny piece of you. No matter." They push away from the human. "Let's do something fun. The atmosphere here is getting depressing."

"What was your price?" Tav asks as they follow the incubus to the lanceboard.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Haarlep grins. They start setting the pieces and Tav wonders if the game will be enough to pry their thought away from the gloomy speculations they circled.

[reapersbayif]

Commission for @stephschoices for her MC Teagan and Kai!

“Found you.”

You startle, the book falling from your hands and landing in a fluttering of paper on your lap. Glancing up, you find Kai grinning down at you, hands clasped behind his back like the perfect little retainer.

You sigh, blowing stands of hair from your face, “You always do.”

“You’re predictable,” They respond with a shrug, moving to sit across from you in the long aisle of books, their voice thick with sarcasm, “Wonder where Teagan could be? Not the library, of course.”

“Yet my other minders never find me,” You raise a brow at the young knight, “It’s as if they hardly pay attention.”

“I’m not your minder,” Their nose wrinkles at the thought, “And to be perfectly fair, the actual minders have their hands full with Adelaide.”

“Is she refusing her crown again?” You rest your chin on hand, fighting a smile, “She says the gems tangle her hair.”

“Ah, yes, of course. The gems.” Kai rolls their eyes, leaning their head back against the books, “So, are you in the mood for meeting foreign dignitaries on this lovely morn?”

“Not at all.” Your expression sours instantly, “They sent you to corral me?”

“Of course,” Kai answers, “Though I’m unsure as to why. It’s not like I attempt to be successful.”

“For that I’m grateful,” Your shoulders slump, looking up at him through long strands of hair, “I’d rather just stay here.”

They give you a wane smile, looking as if they’d already come to expect that answer, “I’ll hold them off, then. I’ll tell your parents I saw you in the gardens-“

“With you.” You continue, keeping your gaze glued to the unopened book in your lap.

Kai pauses, “With me?”

“They never put that much effort into looking for me, anyway.” You defend your weakening hope, “Mama knows I hate these things, so it wouldn’t put us in danger of discovery if you were to stay.”

“Alright.” Kai nods, leaning against the shelves behind them.

“You’ll stay?” You ask, probably more disbeliving than you should feel.

Kai always stays. They might be your retainer, a knight sworn to the crown, but they’ve always taken your word as law. Going above your parents, above their own, they’re the only one to have ever asked what you wanted beyond your status as princess.

Their dark eyes soften, “Of course I’ll stay.”

“Your father will lecture you again.” You remind them, a small smile flickering on your lips, “Are you sure you want to incur his wrath again?”

“His wrath is hardly something to fear.” Kai pulls their knees to their check, resting their chin there and simply watching you as you pick through your stack of books, “He mostly talks until he bores the both of us and we go on our way. He’s long since given up trying.”

“Wonder why?” You ask rhetorically, chuckling at the mischief is their smile.

Kai had been your best friend for years. It’s why they had decided to make them your retainer; the Martens family had a long history with the Royal House of Vailia, and your closeness in age had made them a perfect candidate. Unfortunately for them, they also happened to create the perfect pair of partners in crime with that action.

You set the books aside, standing and surveying the shelves once more. The fourth in the series you’ve been reading is nowhere to be found, your eyes darting across the shelves with practiced quickness.

Kai stands as well, looking at the towering shelves, “The author?”

“Frederick Garnier.” You glance over at them, taking in their profile as they scan the shelves as well.

An unblemished face is unusual for a knight, especially one who began training so young, yet Kai’s skin is polished and perfect. Their lips are tilted upward up just so, their face at ease and relaxed, and your heart trembled in your chest for the briefest moments.

You’re to be married. You’ve been engaged since you were born. It’s a fact you cannot forget, no matter how much you long to. The Tethan heir is kind, certainly, yet your hands long to be held by a more calloused pair.

“Here,” Kai reaches up to a shelf just out of your view, their height aiding them drastically, “Misplaced, that’s all.”

Their fingers brush yours as they pass over the leather bound book, and you could so easily sway forward into their space. Capture their lips, tell them how you feel-

It would be all for nothing. What would your parents say, should you beg them to break off the engagement that would bring peace between kingdoms? Perhaps they would, for they love you dearly, or perhaps they would think you a foolish girl who would bring war to her homeland for the sake of her own love.

Kai’s eyes flicker over your face, landing on your lips, before they tear their gaze away.

For them, you would face the scrutiny of your king and queen, the scrutiny of your kingdom. If they only asked, you would throw it all away.

They would never ask. This truth is one you know bone deep.

“Your birthday is soon,” Kai mentions with false nonchalance, “Fourteen.”

“Yes,” You say, ripping yourself from your thoughts, “Then you can stop claiming to be older.”

“Mm,” Kai quirks an eyebrow, “No, still older. By three months, actually.”

You shift on your feet, your gaze focusing somewhere over their shoulder because you simply cannot bear to look in their eyes.

“Will you be happy,” You ask, voice unusually heavy, “To follow me to Tetha? To be taken from your home?”

It’s quiet for a moment, your mutual little bubble of daydreams bursted by the harsh needle of reality. A warm hand softly meets your cheek, guiding your gaze to theirs.

“I will be with you,” They say, “And so I will be home.”

Your lips tremble and you think they mistake your sorrow for fear, for their thumbs gently brush the tears away.

“I’ll protect you,” They say with finality, “No one in Tetha would dare cause you harm.”

No, it is not anyone in Tetha you fear. Instead it is your own heart. Still, you place your hands atop theirs as they cup your face, nodding to appease their worry.

This will end tragically. That is yet another truth you know as surely as the sun rises and sets.

[flamechasr]

for as long as i could remember, music had always been a part of my life. it probably started during that stellaron disaster, when mom serenaded me and my brother. she had a beautiful voice that could move the emotions of anyone, and always calmed us down, even as the world was falling apart around us. i found music comforting that way. it was a peaceful escape for our little family. i don't even remember my homeland, my mom's face... but i would always remember her voice. i was too young when we were forced to leave, my brother holding me tight and covering my eyes. at that time, mom's music was stuck in my head. i could tune out the fear of pain and death as long as i held tight to that sound.

after gopher wood took us in, we grew up well and happy. i was grateful to him, but i couldn't truly see him as my father. he was someone that saved us, but i didn't even know my own father, so i guess i just had no understanding of what a father is or should be like. sunday did see him as one, though, and seemed quite attached once he got over the initial suspicion. i'm not sure what it was... maybe he had been hoping for a protective figure for a long time. while i had my brother, my brother had no one since mom.

growing up, i remember getting into a lot of little accidents. bruising my arm, scraping my knee, things like that. sunday always worried over me since i was just so clumsy and he said something about how he couldn't imagine leaving me by myself and, truth to be told, i really liked the sound of that. everytime i would get a little bruise and had my brother have to treat it, i thought that i wanted things to always be like this. not that i like having to worry my brother and it's not like i hurt myself on purpose, i just... liked to be taken care of. it also gave me a reason to attach to my brother, i think, and in turn he would also have to attach to me.

after some time, i decided to take up singing to be connected with my late mother, and to hopefully spread joy and peace like she did. gopher wood supported my decision, saying that i had a gift in music. he believed that i was chosen by the harmony. sunday was always by my side too. him throwing that "concert" in our room is my sweetest memory to date. i remember him having a go at a few instruments to follow along my music journey. pianos, violins... he really liked the violin. i thought he was amazing at it, but our "father" didn't think so, and quickly discouraged him from pursuing music, saying that it wasn't his place. i thought that made no sense and was ready to defend him, but sunday stopped me, saying it's okay and that he's right. i didn't understand that, but ever since then he no longer wanted to touch the violin or any instrument. even when i begged him to, he seemed scared of our father's wrath. although gopher wood always seemed to favor my brother in terms of attention, it was always sunday who got in trouble with him.

the incident with the charmony dove changed things up for us. sunday was chosen by gopher wood to be the next oak family head, and he was trained for the job. but everytime after he was called, he seemed kind of out of it. the scariest part was that i had no idea what gopher wood did or said to him. i just noticed that he stopped being very expressive and dropped a lot of his interests. he also developed a bad habit of pulling his feathers whenever he's frustrated as some sort of sick stress relief. perhaps self-inflicted punishment. i told him that he could always talk to me about anything, and he just smiled. it was clearly fake. practiced. i didn't really like it. he said that i just didn't understand, but how could i not understand my own brother?

the other thing was that we always shared a room and bed since it's easier to keep us together, and sunday always had to serenade me or i wouldn't sleep and all that. he stopped wanting to sing since he dropped music, and i mean that's fine, i wouldn't push him to sing for me since i wasn't a little kid anymore and i'd sleep anyway, but i couldn't really handle him not being there. i just remember my worst memory of him grabbing his favorite plushie next to my favorite plushie and trying to walk out the door while i pulled his sleeve, asking where he's going. "oh, father made a room for me, so i can sleep there and this room is all yours." "but why? it's not like the bed is too small for both of us." 'and i still want you here' went unsaid. he said something about how we both have to grow up and handle sleeping on our own but i wasn't really listening by then. i didn't understand why my brother was so insistent on leaving me by myself when all i could ever recall of him was someone who always wanted to keep me safe and close and never leave my side. i was confused and honestly didn't know what to say so i just watched him walk out. i didn't even think to chase after him, i just went to bed sad and angry and crying until i passed out tired. now that i think about it, gopher wood was always trying to pull us apart since it's just easier to manipulate my brother when i wasn't around him. i just didn't let that thought get to me at that time. i still thought of our "father" positively, despite everything.

life went on. when i decided to pursue my dream and leave penacony, sunday didn't try to stop me, and i thought that was for the best. if he was really meant to be the head of the family, he couldn't spend all his time looking after his sister. i also needed to grow up and be okay being with myself and all of that. he just wished me well and i told him that i'd come home sometime, but the truth is that my work kept me busy and so did his. i just saw him on screens while he delivered speeches or whatever it was as the spokesman of the family, and i thought that he had really changed and grew into himself, but at what cost? the smile he wore, he tone he used, it was all crafted. i know him, or at least i thought i did... over time, i also began to doubt myself and the sunday i knew. it's true that people change with time, but the cost was so great for him. the bruises he tried to cover, the feathers on the bathroom floor, the way he never told me anything about what's going on... i don't care if it was to protect me, it shouldn't come at the cost of his pain. did he really think i'm that stupid? then again, it was too late for regrets. i tried my best to just not think in that direction. as long as he was safe and doing okay, that was enough. i sent him letters and souvenirs from the planets that i went to, and he'd write back to me saying a bunch of nothing, as always.

at the end of it all, i just wanted my brother. i wish i told him- he didn't have to do anything grand, he didn't have to save everyone. and i never let go of our promise, but he shouldn't be the sacrifice. after everything, it's a fate too cruel for him.

[tofuiharbinger]

A weird question perhaps but which archon does tofu like most?/which archon likes tofu the most?

My... (sniffle)... my first ask...?

(holds you gently)

Don't worry! I love questions like these, thank you for asking! I also assumed you meant the child of Mama Tofu and not the Daofu alien (I should really write a differentiation soon).

Keep in mind that this is my interpretation of the Baby Tofu character. I'm not sure how many people noticed, but Baby Tofu and Mama Tofu are meant to be self-inserts for a reader and their presumed mother. Regardless, I hope you enjoy and please do not disclose my existence to Shiro.

Remember, reblogs help more than likes!

-Tofu Takes: Baby Tofu's Favorite Archon-

First Candidate: Venti

While both the Mini-Creator and their mother are introverts, Baby Tofu loves the tone-deaf bard! Aside from being their first five star ever, there’s a lot to like about him. His musical skills, his contagious playfulness, and of course, his cheeks! It’s a bit complicated, but Baby Tofu once saw that meme of Venti’s chipmunk face and they never forgot it. 

Being a hermit, Baby Tofu doesn’t often leave the Creator’s manor, even if they’re in Teyvat. Yet somehow, the tone-deaf bard repeatedly manages to tow them into the sunlight (Mama Tofu is grateful). Whether that’d be visiting the statue at Windrise and playing with the crystalflies, or having picnics at Starsnatch Cliff. Their favorite activity, however, is flying kites. Yes, Teyvat would naturally provide a nice breeze, though the personal blessing of Barbatos himself is by far the best. 

Overall, an 8/10! His outgoing personality is a bit too much at times, sadly. Baby Tofu secretly doesn’t like his storytelling style, but don’t tell him that. Shhh…

(Bonus Tidbit: Flying kites reminds them of Grandpapa Tofu…)

Second Candidate: Zhongli

Those of you who read Tales of Mama Tofu - Wrath of the Mini-Creator will know that Baby Tofu has a personal vendetta against the Geo Archon. Both for missing him on his rerun, and due to how he’s essentially their step-father now. Nevertheless, he’s the one who convinced them to download Genshin in the first place, and they must respect that. 

As his…stepchild? Baby Tofu really cannot bring themselves to snap him, despite their occasional temper tantrums. He’s just so patient and understanding, not to mention an incredible listener. They’d feel terrible if they ever actually yelled at him. Thus, Zhongli mostly acts as their anchor and confidant, especially when they and the Creator don’t see eye-to-eye. What neither of them notice, however, is that the poor man is suffering an internal crisis. Yes, it’s his duty to look after the Mini-Creator, but they’re also the only living soul in Teyvat who has the audacity to complain about their Grace? Somebody help him. 

For Baby Tofu, it’s an 8/10. They’ve found that a being as old as Rex Lapis has a special way of making them feel unintelligent. Other than that, he’s a cherished and reliable companion. 

(Bonus Tidbit: Mama Tofu trusts Zhongli, his meteors, and his shield the most when it comes to their child’s safety. Bodyguard Morax when?)

Third Candidate: Ei

The Electro Archon’s obliviousness to modern society is indeed adorable. Yet even if the Creator remains unaware of her sins, Baby Tofu is the opposite. The Sakoku and Vision Hunt Decree aren’t exactly the best foundation for a higher god’s favor. In fact, they’re not sure how they should deal with it altogether, now that Inazuma is real and so are the consequences…

Well, no use in concentrating on the past. Whenever the Mini-Creator is in the nation, they take the time to introduce some foreign items to Ei. The most prominent example being food, as they’re somewhat determined to teach her how to cook (and no, Baby Tofu is not a second Gordon Ramsay, sorry). Though, if that doesn’t succeed, then the two of them can at least have a nice meal together. Knowing that her Excellency, the Almighty Narukami Ogosho, God of Thunder (A/N: I recited that from memory, are you proud of me?) can be a normal person too really does wonders for the Mini-Creator’s sanity. 

A solid 7/10, they’re working on it together. 

Fourth Candidate: Nahida 

Ah, yes. The revered, sharp-witted, and powerful Dendro Archon. Baby Tofu truly respects her accomplishments and abilities. They’re not the most knowledgeable on Teyvat’s lore, but they do know that Nahida is the only Archon (as of current time) to be of significant help to the Traveler. Coupled with her resourcefulness, bravery, kindness, and curiosity, Kusanali has effortlessly won a place in the Mini-Creator’s favorites. 

Baby Tofu’s childhood dream of having a sister has been fulfilled. While they can’t always be in Sumeru, they love chatting with Nahida. The two often visit the Aranara to eat and have fun, as well as chat about whatever comes to mind. Once, they figured out a spectacular sandwich recipe on one of their escapades. It’s become their secret dish! Nonetheless, when the excitement settles and they end up lying on the grass, Baby Tofu loves to talk dreams with Nahida. Like a wise man once said, “logic can get you from A to B, but imagination will take you everywhere.” (Albert Einstein) Both the Dendro Archon and the Mini-Creator seem to agree with that statement!

Baby Tofu is proud to declare Kusanali a 9/10. They’re not the best with children, though it usually isn’t an issue since Nahida is so clever. 

(Bonus Tidbit: The Mini-Creator is absolutely jealous of Nahida’s magic swing. They’re the child of a high deity, why can’t they have one!? 🙁)

Final Answer:

It appears that Baby Tofu’s favorite Archon would have to be… Kusanali/Nahida! Congratulations, esteemed Dendro Archon!

(A/N: I might write about which Archon would like the Mini-Creator the most another time. Thank you for asking!)

[wackus-bonkus-maximus]

WACKUS YOU HAD ME TERRIFIED. I have to applaud you on the way you wrote LB attacking Gabriel - the constant reminders of his age, fragility, and powerlessness in the face of her murderous wrath. Is it weird that I feel like I can forgive Gabe now? I used to think I didn’t want him to die for Adrien’s sake but I didn’t really care what happened to him otherwise. But seeing the way he thought of his son to the end made me relent. It was worse because of the dramatic irony that we all knew he wasn’t Monarque - though he definitely did deserve some of that beating. But maybe that’s why I feel like can forgive him now? Because he got the beating he deserved and more, and because he still thought of his son. And his son, still, despite it all, despite holding his father responsible for everything, doesn’t want his father to die.

~also I hope you’re happy because the fact that you had Lila playing her usually I’ll tell Adrien what Gabriel won’t game and that Adrien actually believes her and on some level feels grateful for it had me feeling as sick as a cat on a ship. It’s absolutely chilling to see her plan to get in his good graces by using Gabriel as the villain and herself as the one on his side has actually WORKED even if only to a tiny, microscopic extent. I feel sick and violated~

Also loved the brief glimpse of Felix, my love ;-; I felt so bad for him after he snapped at Adrien not to tell him 😂 but also 😭.

I’m so tense now that LB knows —BUT SO RELIEVED Adrien dropped that line about only Lila being on his side so LB hopefully is less murderous against feligami my beloved— I don’t know how im going to wait a week seriouslt I feel all hyped up on adrenaline 😫

hehe thank you anon 🙏🏼💖 my intention with gabriel isn't for you guys to feel sorry for him, per se. it's just to show that he's old and pathetic now, and everything that he was afraid of happening to him/the people he loves has already happened. so, when ladybug shows up to kick him while he's down...we don't get a lot of satisfaction from it because ladybug's beatdown has nothing to add.

and yes, you're right about adrien's love for his father! it's a broken kind of love, because adrien is a broken man. just like how gabriel is a broken man who gave adrien only broken love. but it's still real and it's still love, and adrien was literally made from love to give love. he's the best kind of person out there, so we are not surprised to see his tenuous relationship with his father being so strained, yet the love so apparent anyway.

i'm glad you liked seeing lila's manipulation working on adrien 😈 she's only kept gabriel alive as her scapegoat/ red herring for moments like these, where she can shift the blame or the brunt of adrien's anger to gabriel rather than herself. of course adrien falls for it! he doesn't know any better! sick and violated are great words for it bestie, the desired effect has been reached 💖💖💖💖

oh felix, poor felix 😂 he's crying in the club right now. you're right though, at least ladybug's righteous fury isn't directed at him, for the moment!

thank you so much i'm so happy you liked this chapter ❤️

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

14th November >> Mass Readings (Except USA)

Tuesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time 

or

Saint Laurence O'Toole, Bishop.

Tuesday, Thirty Second Week in Ordinary Time

(Liturgical Colour: Green: A (1))

First Reading Wisdom 2:23-3:9 The souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God.

God made man imperishable, he made him in the image of his own nature; it was the devil’s envy that brought death into the world, as those who are his partners will discover.

But the souls of the virtuous are in the hands of God, no torment shall ever touch them. In the eyes of the unwise, they did appear to die, their going looked like a disaster, their leaving us, like annihilation; but they are in peace. If they experienced punishment as men see it, their hope was rich with immortality; slight was their affliction, great will their blessings be. God has put them to the test and proved them worthy to be with him; he has tested them like gold in a furnace, and accepted them as a holocaust. When the time comes for his visitation they will shine out; as sparks run through the stubble, so will they. They shall judge nations, rule over peoples, and the Lord will be their king for ever. They who trust in him will understand the truth, those who are faithful will live with him in love; for grace and mercy await those he has chosen.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 33(34):2-3,16-19

R/ I will bless the Lord at all times.

I will bless the Lord at all times, his praise always on my lips; in the Lord my soul shall make its boast. The humble shall hear and be glad.

R/ I will bless the Lord at all times.

The Lord turns his face against the wicked to destroy their remembrance from the earth. The Lord turns his eyes to the just and his ears to their appeal.

R/ I will bless the Lord at all times.

They call and the Lord hears and rescues them in all their distress. The Lord is close to the broken-hearted; those whose spirit is crushed he will save.

R/ I will bless the Lord at all times.

Gospel Acclamation Matthew 4:4

Alleluia, alleluia! Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. Alleluia!

Or: John 14:23

Alleluia, alleluia! If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him. Alleluia!

Gospel Luke 17:7-10 You are merely servants.

Jesus said to his disciples: ‘Which of you, with a servant ploughing or minding sheep, would say to him when he returned from the fields, “Come and have your meal immediately”? Would he not be more likely to say, “Get my supper laid; make yourself tidy and wait on me while I eat and drink. You can eat and drink yourself afterwards”? Must he be grateful to the servant for doing what he was told? So with you: when you have done all you have been told to do, say, “We are merely servants: we have done no more than our duty.”’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

-----------------------------

Saint Laurence O'Toole, Bishop 

(Liturgical Colour: White: A (1))

(Readings for the memorial)

(There is a choice today between the readings for the ferial day (Tuesday) and those for the memorial. The ferial readings are recommended unless pastoral reasons suggest otherwise)

Either:

First Reading Exodus 32:7-14 Moses pleads with the Lord his God to spare Israel.

The Lord spoke to Moses, ‘Go down now, because your people whom you brought out of Egypt have apostatised. They have been quick to leave the way I marked out for them; they have made themselves a calf of molten metal and have worshipped it and offered it sacrifice. “Here is your God, Israel,” they have cried “who brought you up from the land of Egypt!”’ the Lord said to Moses, ‘I can see how headstrong these people are! Leave me, now, my wrath shall blaze out against them and devour them; of you, however, I will make a great nation.’

But Moses pleaded with the Lord his God. ‘Lord,’ he said ‘why should your wrath blaze out against this people of yours whom you brought out of the land of Egypt with arm outstretched and mighty hand? Why let the Egyptians say, “Ah, it was in treachery that he brought them out, to do them to death in the mountains and wipe them off the face of the earth”? Leave your burning wrath; relent and do not bring this disaster on your people. Remember Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, your servants to whom by your own self you swore and made this promise: I will make your offspring as many as the stars of heaven, and all this land which I promised I will give to your descendants, and it shall be their heritage for ever.’ So the Lord relented and did not bring on his people the disaster he had threatened.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

OR: --------

First reading Deuteronomy 10:8-9 The Lord set apart the tribe of Levi to do him service

Moses said to the people: ‘The Lord set apart the tribe of Levi to carry the ark of the Lord’s covenant, to stand in the presence of the Lord, to do him service and in his name to pronounce blessing as they still do today. Levi therefore has no share or inheritance with his brothers: the Lord is his inheritance, as the Lord your God told him.’

OR: --------

First reading 1 Samuel 16:1,6-13 David is anointed by Samuel

The Lord said to Samuel, ‘Fill your horn with oil and go. I am sending you to Jesse of Bethlehem, for I have chosen myself a king among his sons.’ Samuel purified Jesse and his sons and invited them to the sacrifice. When they arrived, he caught sight of Eliab and thought, ‘Surely the Lord’s anointed one stands there before him’, but the Lord said to Samuel, ‘Take no notice of his appearance or his height for I have rejected him; God does not see as man sees; man looks at appearances but the Lord looks at the heart.’ Jesse then called Abinadab and presented him to Samuel, who said, ‘The Lord has not chosen this one either.’ Jesse then presented Shammah, but Samuel said, ‘The Lord has not chosen this one either.’ Jesse presented his seven sons to Samuel, but Samuel said to Jesse, ‘The Lord has not chosen these.’ He then asked Jesse, ‘Are these all the sons you have?’ He answered, ‘There is still one left, the youngest; he is out looking after the sheep.’ Then Samuel said to Jesse, ‘Send for him; we will not sit down to eat until he comes.’ Jesse had him sent for, a boy of fresh complexion, with fine eyes and pleasant bearing. The Lord said, ‘Come, anoint him, for this is the one.’ At this, Samuel took the horn of oil and anointed him where he stood with his brothers; and the spirit of the Lord seized on David and stayed with him from that day on.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 6:1-2,3-8 'Here I am: send me'

In the year of King Uzziah’s death I saw the Lord of Hosts seated on a high throne; his train filled the sanctuary; above him stood seraphs, each one with six wings. And they cried out to one another in this way,

‘Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of Hosts. His glory fills the whole earth.’

The foundations of the threshold shook with the voice of the one who cried out, and the Temple was filled with smoke. I said:

‘What a wretched state I am in! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have looked at the King, the Lord of Hosts.’

Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding in his hand a live coal which he had taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. With this he touched my mouth and said:

‘See now, this has touched your lips, your sin is taken away, your iniquity is purged.’

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying:

‘Whom shall I send? Who will be our messenger?’

I answered, ‘Here I am, send me.’

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 52:7-10 Rejoice, for the Lord is consoling his people

How beautiful on the mountains, are the feet of one who brings good news, who heralds peace, brings happiness, proclaims salvation, and tells Zion, ‘Your God is king!’

Listen! Your watchmen raise their voices, they shout for joy together, for they see the Lord face to face, as he returns to Zion.

Break into shouts of joy together, you ruins of Jerusalem; for the Lord is consoling his people, redeeming Jerusalem.

The Lord bares his holy arm in the sight of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God.

OR: --------

First reading Isaiah 61:1-3 He has sent me to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord

The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for the Lord has anointed me. He has sent me to bring good news to the poor, to bind up hearts that are broken;

to proclaim liberty to captives, freedom to those in prison; to proclaim a year of favour from the Lord, a day of vengeance for our God,

to comfort all those who mourn and to give them for ashes a garland; for mourning robe the oil of gladness, for despondency, praise.

OR: --------

First reading Jeremiah 1:4-9 Go and say whatever I command you and do not fear

The word of the Lord was addressed to me, saying,

‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; before you came to birth I consecrated you; I have appointed you as prophet to the nations.’

I said, ‘Ah, Lord; look, I do not know how to speak: I am a child!’

But the Lord replied, ‘Do not say, “I am a child.” Go now to those to whom I send you and, say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to protect you – it is the Lord who speaks!’

Then the Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth and said to me:

‘There! I am putting my words into your mouth.’

OR: --------

First reading Ezekiel 3:17-21 Warn the wicked man, and you will live

The word of the Lord was addressed to me as follows, ‘Son of man, I have appointed you as sentry to the House of Israel. Whenever you hear a word from me, warn them in my Name. If I say to a wicked man, “You are to die,” and you do not warn him; if you do not speak and warn him to renounce his evil ways and so live, then he shall die for his sin, but I will hold you responsible for his death. If, however, you do warn a wicked man and he does not renounce his wickedness and his evil ways, then he shall die for his sin, but you yourself will have saved your life. When the upright man renounces his integrity to do evil and I set a trap for him, he too shall die; since you failed to warn him, he shall die for his sin and the integrity he practised will no longer be remembered; but I will hold you responsible for his death. If, however, you warn the upright man not to sin and he abstains from sinning, he shall live, thanks to your warning, and you too will have saved your life.’

OR: --------

First reading Ezekiel 34:11-16 I will look after my flock myself and keep all of it in view

The Lord God says this: I am going to look after my flock myself and keep all of it in view. As a shepherd keeps all his flock in view when he stands up in the middle of his scattered sheep, so shall I keep my sheep in view. I shall rescue them from wherever they have been scattered during the mist and darkness. I shall bring them out of the countries where they are; I shall gather them together from foreign countries and bring them back to their own land. I shall pasture them on the mountains of Israel, in the ravines and in every inhabited place in the land. I shall feed them in good pasturage; the high mountains of Israel will be their grazing ground. There they will rest in good grazing ground; they will browse in rich pastures on the mountains of Israel. I myself will pasture my sheep, I myself will show them where to rest – it is the Lord who speaks. I shall look for the lost one, bring back the stray, bandage the wounded and make the weak strong. I shall watch over the fat and healthy. I shall be a true shepherd to them.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 88(89):2-5,21-22,25,27

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord; through all ages my mouth will proclaim your truth. Of this I am sure, that your love lasts for ever, that your truth is firmly established as the heavens.

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

‘I have made a covenant with my chosen one; I have sworn to David my servant: I will establish your dynasty for ever and set up your throne through all ages.

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

‘I have found David my servant and with my holy oil anointed him. My hand shall always be with him and my arm shall make him strong.

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

‘My truth and my love shall be with him; by my name his might shall be exalted. He will say to me: “You are my father, my God, the rock who saves me.”’

I will sing for ever of your love, O Lord.

Gospel Acclamation Mt23:9,10

Alleluia, alleluia! You have only one Father, and he is in heaven; you have only one Teacher, the Christ. Alleluia!

Or: Mt28:19,20

Alleluia, alleluia! Go, make disciples of all the nations. I am with you always; yes, to the end of time. Alleluia!

Or: Mk1:17

Alleluia, alleluia! Follow me, says the Lord, and I will make you into fishers of men. Alleluia!

Or: Lk4:18

Alleluia, alleluia! The Lord has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives. Alleluia!

Or: Jn10:14

Alleluia, alleluia! I am the good shepherd, says the Lord; I know my own sheep and my own know me. Alleluia!

Or: Jn15:5

Alleluia, alleluia! I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me, with me in him, bears fruit in plenty, says the Lord. Alleluia!

Or: 2Co5:19

Alleluia, alleluia! God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself, and he has entrusted to us the news that they are reconciled. Alleluia!

EITHER: --------

Gospel Matthew 9:35-37 The harvest is rich but the labourers are few

Jesus made a tour through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the Good News of the kingdom and curing all kinds of diseases and sickness. And when he saw the crowds he felt sorry for them because they were harassed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, ‘The harvest is rich but the labourers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send labourers to his harvest.’

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 16:13-19 You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church

When Jesus came to the region of Caesarea Philippi he put this question to his disciples, ‘Who do people say the Son of Man is?’ And they said, ‘Some say he is John the Baptist, some Elijah, and others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.’ ‘But you,’ he said ‘who do you say I am?’ Then Simon Peter spoke up, ‘You are the Christ,’ he said ‘the Son of the living God.’ Jesus replied, ‘Simon son of Jonah, you are a happy man! Because it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven. So I now say to you: You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.’

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 23:8-12 The greatest among you must be your servant

Jesus said to his disciples, ‘You must not allow yourselves to be called Rabbi, since you have only one master, and you are all brothers. You must call no one on earth your father, since you have only one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor must you allow yourselves to be called teachers, for you have only one Teacher, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Anyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and anyone who humbles himself will exalted.’

OR: --------

Gospel Matthew 28:16-20 Go and make disciples of all nations

The eleven disciples set out for Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had arranged to meet them. When they saw him they fell down before him, though some hesitated. Jesus came up and spoke to them. He said, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go, therefore, make disciples of all the nations; baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to observe all the commands I gave you. And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time.’

OR: --------

Gospel Mark 1:14-20 I will make you into fishers of men

After John had been arrested, Jesus went into Galilee. There he proclaimed the Good News from God. ‘The time has come’ he said ‘and the kingdom of God is close at hand. Repent, and believe the Good News.’ As he was walking along by the Sea of Galilee he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net in the lake – for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you into fishers of men.’ And at once they left their nets and followed him. Going on a little further, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they too were in their boat, mending their nets. He called them at once and, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the men he employed, they went after him.

OR: --------

Gospel Mark 16:15-20 Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News

Jesus showed himself to the Eleven and said to them: ‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation. He who believes and is baptised will be saved; he who does not believe will be condemned. These are the signs that will be associated with believers: in my name they will cast out devils; they will have the gift of tongues; they will pick up snakes in their hands, and be unharmed should they drink deadly poison; they will lay their hands on the sick, who will recover.’ And so the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them, was taken up into heaven: there at the right hand of God he took his place, while they, going out, preached everywhere, the Lord working with them and confirming the word by the signs that accompanied it.

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 5:1-11 They left everything and followed him

Jesus was standing one day by the Lake of Gennesaret, with the crowd pressing round him listening to the word of God, when he caught sight of two boats close to the bank. The fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats – it was Simon’s – and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking he said to Simon, ‘Put out into deep water and pay out your nets for a catch.’ ‘Master,’ Simon replied, ‘we worked hard all night long and caught nothing, but if you say so, I will pay out the nets.’ And when they had done this they netted such a huge number of fish that their nets began to tear, so they signalled to their companions in the other boat to come and help them; when these came, they filled the two boats to sinking point. When Simon Peter saw this he fell at the knees of Jesus saying, ‘Leave me, Lord; I am a sinful man.’ For he and all his companions were completely overcome by the catch they had made; so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were Simon’s partners. But Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on it is men you will catch.’ Then, bringing their boats back to land, they left everything and followed him.

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 10:1-9 Your peace will rest on that man

The Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them out ahead of him, in pairs, to all the towns and places he himself was to visit. He said to them, ‘The harvest is rich but the labourers are few, so ask the Lord of the harvest to send labourers to his harvest. Start off now, but remember, I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Carry no purse, no haversack, no sandals. Salute no one on the road. Whatever house you go into, let your first words be, “Peace to this house!” And if a man of peace lives there, your peace will go and rest on him; if not, it will come back to you. Stay in the same house, taking what food and drink they have to offer, for the labourer deserves his wages; do not move from house to house. Whenever you go into a town where they make you welcome, eat what is set before you. Cure those in it who are sick, and say, “The kingdom of God is very near to you.”’

OR: --------

Gospel Luke 22:24-30 I confer a kingdom on you, just as the Father conferred one on me

A dispute arose between the disciples about which should be reckoned the greatest, but Jesus said to them: ‘Among pagans it is the kings who lord it over them, and those who have authority over them are given the title Benefactor. This must not happen with you. No; the greatest among you must behave as if he were the youngest, the leader as if he were the one who serves. For who is the greater: the one at table or the one who serves? The one at table, surely? Yet here am I among you as one who serves! ‘You are the men who have stood by me faithfully in my trials; and now I confer a kingdom on you, just as my Father conferred one on me: you will eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and you will sit on thrones to judge the twelve tribes of Israel.’

OR: --------

Gospel John 10:11-16 The good shepherd is one who lays down his life for his sheep

Jesus said:

‘I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd is one who lays down his life for his sheep. The hired man, since he is not the shepherd and the sheep do not belong to him, abandons the sheep and runs away as soon as he sees a wolf coming, and then the wolf attacks and scatters the sheep; this is because he is only a hired man and has no concern for the sheep.

‘I am the good shepherd; I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for my sheep. And there are other sheep I have that are not of this fold, and these I have to lead as well. They too will listen to my voice, and there will be only one flock, and one shepherd.’

OR: --------

Gospel John 15:9-17 You are my friends if you do what I command you

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Remain in my love. If you keep my commandments you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my own joy may be in you and your joy be complete. This is my commandment: love one another, as I have loved you. A man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends, if you do what I command you. I shall not call you servants any more, because a servant does not know his master’s business; I call you friends, because I have made known to you everything I have learnt from my Father. You did not choose me: no, I chose you; and I commissioned you to go out and to bear fruit, fruit that will last; and then the Father will give you anything you ask him in my name. What I command you is to love one another.’

Or:

Gospel John 21:15-17 Feed my lambs, feed my sheep.

Jesus showed himself to his disciples, and after they had eaten he said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?’ He answered, ‘Yes Lord, you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He replied, ‘Yes, Lord, you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Look after my sheep.’ Then he said to him a third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter was upset that he asked him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ and said, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep.’

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[thebitchbehindtheslaughter]

The Heart Everbeating

Hi! This story has been in The Works for about a year now, so I hope you enjoy! Warnings for death, Christianity/Catholicism, and everything going wrong in the MC’s life 

When one man falls for another, they say God, himself, shudders in disgust. Two men peacefully exchanging whispers betwixt the oxeyes and the late eve silence could send all of Heaven into a rage, wheels of flame and feather burning bright with divine wrath. The Spirit scoffs at the embrace of palms, The Son weeps at the embrace of arms, The Father recoils at the embrace of lips. All three were above any such mortal woes and so the Holymen and Holywomen would leap from their confessionals and morning prayers, setting down their scriptures and rosaries in the name of mallets and chains to purge the world of any threat to perfection’s untouchable paradise, for the loving whispers nestled within the daisies—promises to forever support, protect and adore, were far too demonic for the cotton ears of the immortal, immoral Shepard. Yet even once sentenced to the depths of The Nine Rings, no pretend border could halt the sweethearts’ yearning for one another, no prideful god fully capable of stopping the pounding of deep love’s heart; The Devil himself knows of and tries not to prevent honest admiration. Layers of wood, of rust, of ash, of soil, could not cease the fire within one man’s soul as he plucked at the freshly bloomed oxeye, near delirious with his burning desire.

     A trail of ‘he loves me’s spiralled on the wind as the fiancé limped through the aisle of wrought iron and forsaken stone, his veil of moonlight bathing one man and his wilting bouquet in sensations of ethereal glamour. Hums of melodies yet to be played bounced off the flitting wings of the Calyptra groomsmen all the while, holding back their hunger in the name of the beloveds’ special day. The one man tied back his long, dark hair with the red ribbon his beloved had gifted him, hoping to enchant just as he’d been at their first meeting, continuing his pursuit without so much as a stumble. At the mere thought of meeting once more one man’s mind was overrun with his deepest desires, burning through his ice-coated flesh and igniting the spark which had never truly died, his own wrought iron fence of bone becoming the grates of a roaring coal furnace and as such granting him ample energy on his seemingly endless journey. Truly, one man was ever so far from the halfway point—a little black house overrun by only the sweetest of alleycats—but moments spent alone do slide unto the doorstep of eternity when one is used to moments with his beloved, so one dared not to pause to collect the rapidly disappearing petals, or to pluck fresher flowers, or to feed his dear groomsmen as they continued their song. Instead he chased after the growing stronger aura of his beloved, his darling, as he slowly neared the town gates.

     If the ring of charcoal iron he left behind were to act as a church hall’s supposedly welcoming doors, then the buildings were certainly the rows of family and friends who arrived solely to bare witness to the beloveds’ moment of union as they leaned in close to admire the unearthly beauty one man found himself in possession of, the dewy mist which still hung in the evening air bringing the idea of tears to the candlelit windows that lit up his path. So attractive he felt as he walked the aisle he’d always dreamed of traversing, the scent of his beloved still rested in his lungs and it grew ever stronger the closer he was to the town square. The petals of the oxeyes he had gathered fell less on his gloves and more on the wind, his limbs moving faster the closer he sensed himself getting, one man’s mind growing equally as desperate for the face he so longed to hold once more, when one of his guests spoke and broke him from the trance he willing entered; “My old friend, is that truly you before me? My, you’re in that beautiful suit! Are you finally to be wed to your beloved?” There upon the porch stood a woman, the patches which crawled across her cheek marking her familiar in appearance, but the silver hair which clung to her head like spiderwebs struck her down as the grandmother of a friend who lived within those exact walls, but certainly she had passed long before one man’s eyes had closed? “Come in, my friend! It is poor manners to arrive to any wedding with an empty stomach!” So dearly did one man wish to see his beloved, to hold, to cherish, to kiss and recover the year that was lost between two meters of wood and mud, but as he always knew her granddaughter to be his old friend’s grandmother was most certainly correct. “Oh, my friend, I must lend you a bottle of perfume, as well. Tell me, would you prefer to smell of roses or daises?”

     Traditionally, receptions were to be held once vows had been born and welcomed to the new world, but perhaps tradition could take a knee for the beloveds’ celebration. Only for the moments spent within the old and rickety house, of course, as after the cake was cut one man would return to the aisle and greet his beloved with promises written in a heat of passion and longing. With heat of passion mentioned, one man found it quite impossible to miss how warm the air surrounding the dining table truly was, though that could be blamed on the Battenberg cake and Earl Grey tea that was set before him with unsteady hands. “Dig in, my friend!” The older woman sat in the chair across from his own with a smile lined in childish giddy, reminding one man that all the town was abuzz with excitement for the evening that had just arrived, all because he had insisted on paying patronage to a small tailor shop many moons ago. Yes, he remembered that year as if it had played out just moments ago, the one where he slowly fell for the charming tailor’s son who knew his figure better than he did. He remembered the first time they spoke, how he had thanked the young man for his service and complimented his handiwork, and of course, he remembered the shy and flattered smile that offered as response. Certainly, if his mind still held to those magical moments within a small, family shop, then it held what led to the beloveds’ arrival to the small, isolated town. He wished it would forget—prayed, even, but it held steadfast. Lavender. He despised that colour more than anything, for once upon a time it had infected his life and forced him to the tailor’s shop to be suited for a tux in that very shade. Although, one man would never forget the generosity of the woman in the matching dress, one who shooed them away and took all fault for their escape. He hoped her and her bride would be wed one day. “Goodness, my friend, you’re going to be quite late!” One man’s untouched cake and well-stirred tea were carried off into the depths of the hot house, just as he began to feel… sick. He hadn’t a clue he could feel sick once his body was beyond death, but as the older woman had exclaimed he had not a moment to ponder. “Take care, my friend!” She called as he shuffled out the door, his groomsmen having awaited his return upon the porch; it would be his night and his night, alone, for only a few minutes longer.

     Then came a buzzing, swirling spirit that twirled through him like wine in the glass of a nobleman, one born of unadulterated anticipation. For simply, he had twirled past the house he had known to be infested with cats but, to his surprise, had then been infested with vines and flowers. He could not find himself time to pause, however, so simply he continued on, the waltz in his step. Four steps at a time led him through an enthusiastic daze of sorting through crowds to meet his beloved at the ballroom’s centre, his own, personal history of wandering grand celebrations providing him and his movements great expertise. Oh, my beloved, his mind had pleaded as he stumbled from one side of the road to the other, his undead heart begging to pound in the pattern it knew so well. One man tightened the knot of the ribbon he’d so carefully laced into his hair, then a memory of how said ribbon had come to be teased him with visions of his beloved; he had been questioned as to what his very favourite colour was and, his gaze locked upon the eyes of the tailor’s son, he had simply said what he saw: Red. Red was a difficult colour—though nowhere near as difficult as indigo—so all that was offered was a red ribbon. His beloved had apologized in only a most sincere manner but he, oh, he had known that shade oh-so-well, and so, had giddily taken the gift and laced it into his long hair for the very first time. Oh, he would give almost anything to see his beloved’s flustered expression once more, how his red eyes had widened as if to show off all their glittering glory, his glasses falling down his face to assist in their unveiling. One man could not resist then, and had asked if he may. His beloved said yes. Such a beautiful memory had caused his dance through the streets to grow wild and desperate as he near cried out in love and admiration. Delirious, just as he was once he reentered the Ertha’s domain, though that time he was nearly at his beloved’s side, just stood at the edge of a true and real crowd. He could see the red through the shuffling shoulders. He ran for it. One man embraced the figure so tightly that he could tell instantaneously that it was not his beloved in his arms.

     “Let go of my daughter.” Hands rough from the wear and tear of time grabbed at his suit jacket and mercilessly pried him away from the young woman whose face was alight with fear. He knew that face, well—well, perhaps only certain features. The puff of her bottom lip he knew he’d kissed before, the batting of her eyelashes he knew he’d felt flutter against his cheek before, the beauty mark at her jaw he knew he’d gushed over before—though certainly it had moved sides—and the red. He knew that particular shade of red far better than he knew anything else, and he despised how natural it looked when combined with the new shape of her jaw, point of her nose, and texture of her straight hair. That hair always curled when grown that long, though it rarely had a chance to grow past the shoulders. Perhaps his beloved’s sister had appeared in town to comfort him? Oh, he hadn’t even considered the existence of his beloved’s grief! Yes, his dear sister must have appeared to stay the past two years with him and assistance him in his recovery! Then why, he questioned as he could not comprehend the answer, did a woman with the exact new features of the girl appear at that moment, stood beside the younger, and took on the appearance of mother and daughter? Hesitant, terrified yet morbidly curious of the truth in hiding, did one man turn to look at the man who still held him by the shoulders. His fear was proved to be founded in fantasy, for he knew that face and its every detail, instantaneously. “… My love?” Delirium once again ignited within one man’s shaking chest, and caused him great ecstasy which guided his limbs about his beloved’s shoulders, pulled the two men close together, their bodies perfectly tailored to the other’s just as they were in their younger years. His pined for those lips like he never had before in all his years of love and admiration for the taller, desperate as he had been all that night without his beloved by his side, and pushed himself to the tips of his toes in a reach that lasted all of three seconds. He closed his eyes and anticipated the warm—near burning sensation of gentle love he’d come to know so well, but he was met with the pin-pricked fingers of a tailor’s hands. “M-My love, I…” Those gorgeous red eyes darted to the two women at their side for truly not a reason, at all, as his beloved had never been the least bit cautious when it came to expressing their undying affection—at the very least, not in that town. “You must understand my hesitation,” he whispered as if some godly fear had been implemented into his untainted soul; perhaps by that woman who had yet to learn how rude it was to stare? “You’ve been gone—dead! For thirty years, so how am I to react to seeing your face again?” In response to such words rife with sorrow and conflict, for the very first time in that moonlit evening one man could not think at all.

     “Goodness, my love, I… I watched you die in that field of oxeyes! I held your shaking body, I watched the life drain from your eyes—the blood, as well! Y-Your own father shot you dead and I was the only one who mourned! Now, suddenly, three decades later you return to me? Why so long? Why must you have waited until I had finally moved on and healed?” His own mind was hardly aware of itself in that moment, as it drifted freely in the town square, inquired what the bystanders were thinking, and even what the woman and her daughter were thinking, but he could not bring himself to consider his beloved’s thoughts for he had to have been lying, though that was so far from something he would do especially in such serious situations as the one they were currently in. “My love… I’ve married another.” One man, his body shivering with horror, slowly followed that red gaze that instinctually filled with true love, though not for him. The woman and her daughter stared back… equally as horrified. “I didn’t believe you were coming back—How could I believe that? My wife she—she taught me how to recover, took her time to heal me, fully. Our daughter is sixteen, now. We are happy.” His beloved squeezed his arm and just as it always was, it comforted his aching heart. “I’m sorry, my love, but if you came back just to see me again, I’m afraid I’ll have to cut your return, here. My love?” For the very first time in his twenty years of life, one khan ignored the words of his beloved in favour of approaching another. He pulled the precious treasure from his hair and took the woman’s wrist, where he then placed it in her shaking palm and turned to the younger woman, to whom he offered the wilting oxeyes to, continuously numb despite her gratefully taking it.

     Then, with a final look to the beloved and his beautiful family—with the additional press of a handkerchief to his one functioning tear duct—one man quietly left the village.

[red-dead-do-over246]

Hello!! Love your work so much. I was so excited to see you also write for Kieran!! Can I pretty please get prompt #66 and 82 for Kieran and f!reader? Thank you ❤❤❤❤❤

Sure thing! He’s adorable XD💖I hope this scenario is okay

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Forbidden Feelings

You are Dutch’s daughter, which happens to be the worst situation for Kieran.

#66 “Did you just kiss me?”

#82 “I think I’m in love with you and it terrifies me.”

He was where he always was, with the horses. Ever since getting out of Colter, Kieran can be thankful for one thing.

A place in the gang? Some food? Maybe he’ll finally get some water?

No. Warmer weather.

Even though he saved Arthur’s life, apparently that wasn’t enough to gain the trust of everyone. Granted, he understands the hatred from some, but he still didn’t think that being part of the O’Driscoll's gave Dutch permission to threaten to geld him.

Speaking of Dutch, Kieran never knew that he had a daughter. 

It was needless to say that Kieran had a type. Smart, beautiful, and sweet was something he wanted in a woman. Perhaps it came from his hard lifestyle and wanting some gentleness from that. Whatever the case may be, he can’t help but fall deep into Cupid’s pit whenever the case arises. 

So, he couldn’t help but fall for you, which was a problem.

Dutch was your father and would absolutely shoot him if he ever had the courage to confess to you. So, Kieran has tried to suppress his feelings, but he was such a hopeless romantic that it was hard to do so. 

Kieran just did what he does best. He stayed quiet and admired from afar. However, he didn’t take into account that you would come and talk to him.

“Hello Kieran. How’s H/N?” You one day came up to him one day, asking about your horse who had an injured knee from jumping. However, the sound of your voice nearly put the man into cardiac arrest.

“Sorry!” You said quickly, knowing how easily he frightens. Kieran composed himself quickly before calming the horses that spooked at his reaction.

“I-It’s alright, Y/N...just a little jumpy around here is all...um, H/N is doing a lot better! I hope it’s alright that I gave her a couple treats.” Kieran said, and you nodded happily. Then, you got this look on your face that sent his heart rapidly beating.

“You’re always so kind to the horses, Kieran...it’s adorable. Thank you for taking such good care of H/N.” You mused, not even realizing how much those words had power over him.

“Um...Well...I...” Kieran was at a loss for words as he tried to think of some way to diffuse the situation and change topics. However, as he struggled with his anxiety, you moved forward and placed a grateful kiss on his cheek.

That sent Kieran to space.

“Did you just kiss me?” He asked in complete shock, looking around wildly in case someone saw. You found his reaction both cute and worrisome. Did he really get that scared of the gang?

“Yeah...is there something wrong with that?” You asked him, eyeing him carefully. Kieran was still in a panic.

“What if your father saw?” He asked in a whisper, fearful of Dutch’s wrath. To his surprise, you just started to giggle a bit, making Kieran even more nervous. He was about to say something, but you beat him to it.

“My daddy won’t do anything to you...not if I can help it.” You said sweetly, moving a bit closer to him, biting your lip. He backed up until his back hit the hitching post. 

“W-What do you mean?” Kieran asked, confused by your statement. You innocently moved to fix his neckerchief and brush out his shirt. Then, you gazed up at him, nearly causing his heart to stop.

“You tell me.” You said to him, staring him in the eye.

It was at this moment that Kieran realized he had a choice before him. You clearly knew something was up and was waiting to see if he would reveal it. Kieran didn’t keep secrets well, and his feelings were obviously eating him up inside. He knew he should say something, tell you the truth, even if it got him killed.

Lying was impossible with him, so he was left with no choice.

“I think I’m in love with you and it terrifies me.” Kieran confessed shyly, playing with hands. You slowly removed your hands from his chest, giving him a look that he didn’t know how to read.

Then, without any warning, you kissed him.

It lasted for less than a second, so no one took any notice. However, for Kieran, it felt like a whole new world. It was too short for him, but once you pulled away, he realized where he was and felt all small again.

“It seems I’ve fallen in love with you as well...” You told him, causing his heart to soar.

“B-But...how...” He started to say as you placed your hands back on his chest.

“We’ll make it work.” You promised him before moving to rub one of his arms in a loving manner. Kieran could only smile a bit before you turned to leave, not wanting anyone to get aggressive with Kieran for talking to you. Which they would, no matter what you say.

Kieran just watched you, feeling a bit safer in camp for the first time in forever. You returned his feelings, and he could finally stop having them eat away at him. Kieran moved back to the horses, feeling oddly calm for some reason.

Then a voice brought all the tension back.

“Son, we need to talk.”

[spice-chan]

Yandere warrior Bakugo’s x servant reader??

Scrub the blood away, but stay.

Barbarian!Bakugou x servant!reader

Warnings: Barbarian Bakugou, very thorough cleaning of him but no other NSFW content.

Word count: 1K

You washed Katsuki’s back, delicately running over his scars, washing away the sweat and grime.

Katsuki leaned towards your touch, sighing in comfort at the gentle treatment of your delicate hands. It’s not as if he doesn’t enjoy the rush of adrenaline as he butchers everyone in sight. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy blood spattering over him and drenching him. But it’s not too bad to have his favourite maid fuss over him, and gently clean him of the hardship of today's victorious battle. It’s a contrast to everything he enjoys, you’re a contrast to everything he enjoys.

But he can’t help it when he falls in love with your gentleness more and more every day. You’re so meek and pliant in comparison to him, yet a spitfire in your own right. You’re blunt and honest with the people around you, yet your touches are anything but blunt, your treatment of Katsuki is featherlight soft. He sighed as he lifted his arm for you, feeling you lather it up with soap and warm water, cleaning the ridges of muscle off any impurities coating it.

Your fingers looked so small on his arm, it was almost laughable. The tower of muscle dwarfed it.

“Hah, havin’ fun?” You squeaked when the previously silent and relaxed Katsuki addressed you, smirking at having caught you ogling his arm.

“Uh-um. No, my wrath. I’m sorry.” You flushed under his intense gaze, sputtering out anything in mind to get you out of the situation. He cackled, a boisterous and loud sound, making you freeze up in shame. You continued washing him in silence, cheeks feeling flamed.

You were about to move on his other arm when he called your movement, wet hand holding your wrist and red eyes boring into yours.

“What’s with that look? Do you want to be somewhere else or somethin’?” you froze again at that, feeling every bone in your body tense. A clear contrast to his flaming own, which now looked ready to erupt.

You shook your head rapidly, the movement making you feel as if you were about to dislocate your neck.

“No, my wrath. It's an honour to be here bathing you” you urged a smile to spread across your complexion, you didn't know it but that smile alone made butterflies erupt on his bloodied, bruised and scarred stomach.

What you said was both a lie and a truth. When your father gave you to his tribe to be a servant so he can freely roam the land without the excess baggage, they took you in as one of their own. A part of their family. Although you were grateful, you couldn’t overlook the bloody nature of your ‘family’ though. Your loyalty came with so much guilt, why did they have to butcher people?

Why did they have to be murderers?

“Enough of that,” Katsuki spoke with a mischievous glint in his eye. “What would you like me to do?” you asked innocently, not expecting his hand to guide yours down south.

“Something else needs a lil scrubbin’ too.”

You felt all the blood rush to your face as you registered the implication of his words.

“You--you want me to clean you down there?” you asked the question in a whisper, hoping, but not too hopeful that you misunderstood.

“Yeah, yer’ too shy to clean it every time. No more o’ that.”

With a shaky hand, you started to move the sponge, disbelief etched into your very being at having to do this. You avoided looking at him due to the humiliation of your actions, but he never looked away once. You wished you could tell him to clean it himself and scurry out of the bathing chamber, but you can't…

And he knew it, it gave him a rush knowing how your tongue ached to spit out the truth of what you felt, but you can't disobey him.

You were afraid of pressing too hard and rousing the wrong kind of reaction, afraid of scrubbing with too much speed as to not provide too much friction, but it seems that was all fruitless. Your shy, virginal movements roused him up either way.

“M-my wrath, should I stop now?”

He was completely red, hands gripping the bath so tightly that his knuckles were white, every breath escaping him resembled the steamy breath of a dragon before firing off flames.

Still, he looked like he wanted to laugh after noticing your immense embarrassment, but he bit his lip, holding it in, but not enough to hide his sneaky grin. You were so fun to tease.

He nodded at least.

“Bit more and I might do something reckless. Can't be doin’ that just yet, even though you're cute.

Your heart hammered at his words, cheeks never having a rest when he's around, it seems. But when you registered the latter part of what he said, your eyes widened in fear.

“Just yet?”

Katsuki smirked at you, caressing your cheek with his wet hand that had so many callouses, that it made your heated cheek feel baby soft. It also reminded you how much stronger he is, his hand alone looked as if it could have no trouble snapping your neck in mere seconds.

“Ya’ know, when we came back, my mother asked me what I wanted as a reward, seein’ as I'm going to be the head soon and blah blah” you nodded, urging him to continue, but apprehensive of what he could be getting at. Your sweat felt cold as you waited with bated breaths, his merciless pausing not doing your nerves any favour. Neither did his intense, unrelenting, blood-soaked gaze.

“I said I wanted you.”

You gasped, but he didn't seem perturbed in the least. Instead, he continued grinning that familiar grin he always seemed to sport around you.

“We wed on the full moon.”

[yinses]

vertigo.

the one where toji is still a hitman and somehow remaining a dad albeit terrible one and you become more than just a neighbor to both father and son

rating: t wc: 3.6k+

a/n: this will be a super slow process as i'm still working out the kinks. but this was my follower event way back and i finally have the first part done!

it should be cliche. you know that trope where your neighbor knocks on your door asking for a grocery item and then the meeting spirals into a series of events that draw you together.

that could have been the plot line, if you were looking for romance between the responsibilities of maintaining a job and a roof over your head.

would have been the catalyst, had the figure standing in the entrance of your doorway not been three-foot-tall and looking like he already knew who to blame for this predicament.

and of course he did, because you’d both been here before.

“can i borrow some milk, please? dad forgot to pick up some.”

again.

last time it was the cereal.

the time before it was toilet paper.

there were a list of necessities your deadbeat neighbor never seemed to have around his apartment, leading his nine year old to trek across the hallway to your door.

megumi fushiguro had been a rather independent child since you’d known him for the better part of two years now. upon moving in, you would see him in glimpses: carefully taking the stairs up and down from the mailroom or dragging trash from one end of the hall to the next.

you would have thought he was the sole resident of apartment 2B if not for his lacking age.

it wasn’t until your fateful meeting after watching him struggle against the weight of a laundry basket full of clothes that you’d interjected yourself into his life and this met his father.

toji fushiguro.

you were hoping for a mother. albeit a bit stressed soul, too overcome with accountabilities to micromanage every daily task for her child. there was room there for you to offer your assistance without coming across as too threatening or invasive. you didn’t have a child but you could see how time could slip away from you. for a week you managed to forget detergent after numerous sticky notes and phone reminders.

so imagine your surprise when you’d balanced the basket to your hip, much to megumi’s annoyed but grateful huff, and knocked on the door.

the man that greeted you looked about as perplexed as you were, not expecting his son or anyone else to require entrance.

“and who are you?”

you knew that he had to have seen you, because all at once he was very familiar. a figure in passing that you’d seen slipping in and out of the apartment building at late hours. it was hardly a surprise that you found yourself seeking him out more often than not. he was a man made from pure steel and silk; muscled, back broad with a cut of a smile.

you figured he just had a night job not that he was neglecting his son.

“your neighbor,” you explain shortly, somehow garnering the confidence to thrust the basket assertively into his arms. the man doesn’t even stumble from the added weight. frankly you don’t think he would have cared if the contents went tumbling down.

“care to add in why you’re carrying our laundry?”

'sure bud, right after you explain why your six year old was doing it first.'

it what you thought echoed in your own head. you didn’t realize the words had bubbled past your lips before the man’s eyes narrowed.

you were met by a brief spark of uncertainty. you were frustrated, but that didn’t mean you were ready to face the wrath of your neighbor. but the impending scrimmage never came.

in fact, he laughed.

in your face.

to your right, megumi scowled further before squeezing past the two adults, pushing the door further open and giving you a glimpse of their home.

you were astonished a second time.

no, you didn’t feel like an asshole who imagined a debilitated flat with cracked tiles and peeling walls. that kind of damage wouldn’t do well with your landlord. the price that you paid for every month came with the expectations of mid tier living. it wasn’t a penthouse but it was quality arrangements.

which made you wonder why someone who could afford a 4K tv couldn’t be bothered to hire a proper housing service for his son. you could only get a glimpse of the living room from your view but what you summed up amounted to better arrangements than you could afford.

the man obviously wasn’t concerned with style but knew how to shop apparently.

just not for the necessities it seems.

“megumi likes to do things on his own,” he explains with a careless wave of his hand.

there was nothing wrong with encouraging independence in an adolescent but not to the point where it was detrimental to their health. megumi wasn’t the most social boy but he was far too young to be interacting with strangers without parental supervision.

your voice is flat and void of interest in coddling the lousy father, ‘’he’s a child.”

the man only hums with a curl of his lips that lets you know this isn’t the first time it was brought to his attention and certainly wouldn’t be the one that marks a change in anything. his heel kicks at the door, pushing it wider in invitation. but your gaze doesn’t travel further than the doorway, too taken with the way his gaze lingering on you instead.

“you’re welcome to come in and try to take the reins from him a bit. i’m sure we can squeeze you in somewhere.”

your face runs hot at the audacity of the man.

indignant but refusing to stomp your foot, you point to megumi and then your door. “if he needs something tell him to knock on my door. that way if you ever have to write a police report at least you know we’re to start. “

and then you turn on your heels, all too aware of the pair of eyes burning against your backside until your door slams shut.

it took some time for megumi to take you up on your offer, certainly not with any encouragement from his father. eventually it seemed that he accepted more advantages to faults leading him to start making small requests as if gauging your competence.

or consistency.

and you did your best to meet his expectations. you couldn’t have possibly imagined what could have come from this rudimentary arrangement but you recognized a child in need and rose to the role.

upon reaching your kitchen, you go for the cabinets first, pulling out a box of his favorite cereal. megumi doesn’t question the offer, already climbing his way onto the stool by the time you circle back around with a bowl and milk.

“toji’s sleeping?”

you don’t insult him by trying to pour either ingredient.

“yeah.”

“i took the time to make a list. even imported it onto that grocery app for him. he literally only needed to check out.”

“yeah.”

the roles should have been referenced. but megumi seemed fine letting you be his voice box of emotions. he’d already met his quota for wasting them on his deadbeat father.

you still didn’t know what toji did for a living, only aware that it was enough to provide when needed. he didn’t always remember to put food on the table but at least there was one in the house, among other expensive amenities.

leaning forward against the countertop, you find yourself contemplating the lingering mystery. while it had plagued your mind for the longest, it had never made its way to your lips. whether or not you would get an honest answer managed to stay your tongue.

there was obviously more to be added to their story, starting with his mother.

“why are you staring at me like that?”

he looked almost comical, bed hair still awry with milk dripping against his chin. despite his scowl there were moment like this that reminded you that he was still very much a child.

smiling, you leaned in closer. “just wondering how much taller you think you’re going to get when all you eat for breakfast is that sugary confection.’’

the boy looked back down at his bowl then at you. “ i get it from your house, so maybe i should ask you.”

the spark of laughter died as quickly as it came as your brow twitched. “i’m going to stuff you in that box, brat. then we’ll see how much you’ll grow.”

megumi didn’t laugh but the soft smile that graced his face was volumes louder.

despite his protests, you still escort megumi to the bus stop. you manage to guise most of it as a small detour of your own venture to the store, distracting him momentarily by adding his own request to your list. you'd grown into a habit of stocking your kitchen for two instead of the single household you lived in.

it was a more expensive way yo live, but the cost of duality over loneliness beat out any cost. ultimately, your ploy worked long enough until the squeak of breaks edged towards the sidewalk. unable to resist, you sneak a quick kiss to his cheek and wave eagerly as he trudges off with warm skin. it only takes a few moments for his face to appear in one of the windows, wave reluctant but present as the bus takes off.

presumptuous as it may seem, you like to think that you made his mornings a little better. he surely improved upon yours.

fingers snapping at the idea, you assigned a new task to your agenda. "a bit of change of plans, but i think he'd enjoy some ginger pork." you'd yet to understand the boy's obsession with ginger, but learned that he loved dishes that complimented it well. if anything it brought some variety and diversity to your culinary skills.

when you started towards the garage, however, you realized your pockets were missing the distinct jingle of keys. in your rush to see him off, you must have forgotten them by the door. megumi must have been to busy scolding you to notice as well, completely forgetting his chance to get on you about forgetting to lock your door.

"an easy remedy," you quipped, taking two steps at a time to the third floor.

your door was unlocked, but thankfully closed as you popped in quickly to snag your keys from the nearby table. you barely took note of the second door closing in unison with yours.

"megumi's gone already?"

you considered ignoring him. you back was already turned and there was nothing stopping you from just unlocking your door and going back inside. dinner was still a ways away as it was. it was truly a wonder how one fushiguro could ruin your day so quickly after it was made.

"yes with breakfast. you're welcome." unable to resist the jab, you pocketed your keys and made your way back down the hall. you hardly made it past the next unit before his footsteps echoed your own. you cursed whatever devil rumbled under his bed to wake him this early.

"it's not as if we don't have food. i know i saw poptarts last night."

"he wanted cereal."

"pretty sure there is that too. or he didn't look hard enough."

against your better judgement, you rounded on him. "and the milk i added to your shopping cart? with all the other groceries you failed to purchase?"

jesus christ when had he gotten so close? you had to take a step back just to keep your nose from brushing against the cloth of his shirt. toji wasn't overly tall, maybe average at best to keep him from towering over you at excessive length. as if his build wasn't enough. even dressed in soft sweats and loose shirt, the man couldn't hide definition.

"the cart should still be there. with my card information attached. nothing was stopping you from checking out on your own."

except reason. despite his son connecting the two of you, there wasn't enough history for you to be comfortable spending his money freely, even with permission. you would rather eat away at your own bank account to provide for the boy.

you'd done the work, setting up his account for him and saving the login information on your own device to create his carts. you even set up a favorites list for different occasions. it all call with quick and easy delivery, as long as he completed the checkout process. something he managed to forgo every time.

"are you a child?" you asked with a bitter laugh. the man made it easy to assign megumi as the responsible party of the house.

the man in question only grinned at the jab, skin around his scarred lip pulling but gave nothing else. he didn't really need to justify it with an answer when the evidence was so blaring.

"heading to the store now?"

you didn't want to question why his guess was so accurate.

against your better judgment, you confirmed. "yes, i'm making megumi ginger pork for dinner."

"you spoil him."

'you don't nearly enough'. come to mind but you resist the urge. instead you carry on all the way to the parking garage, hoping at some point the man would lose interest and stray away. but he continued to pursue until you reached your vehicle.

when your brow raised in question, he only waved his phone as if it was enough.

"i have the list here. might as well knock it out. i'll even buy the ingredients for this special dinner."

shopping with toji fushiguro seemed like more trouble than it was worth. but the man didn't leave much up for argument as he descended down the hallway.

"fine."

it wasn't as if the man seemed capable of accomplishing it on his own.

he offers to drive, but you feel more comfortable behind the wheel as he clambers into the passengers seat. ultimately, it appears that your worries were your own as the man makes himself at home, head resting back against the seat while his legs take up any available space.

toji doesn't make small talk or fumble with the radio, just watched the passing traffic with that neutral smile of his. in fact, the entire ride was underwhelming uneventful. an odd take to have when you shouldn't have been expecting much in the first place.

eager to get started, you pulled a cart free of the cage and made you way down the first aisle. whether or not toji decided to follow closely behind at this point was beyond your care. this was your opportunity to properly stock megumi's house with some of his favorite, something that would easily overshadow ginger pork in the grand scheme of it all.

"looks like milk is first on this list."

how ironic.

toji didn't appear to have strayed far at all, lounging comfortably at your side with one hand holding his phone with the other stuffed in his pocket. his thumb slide across the screen as he worked his way down the list.

"you really think he needs all of this? seem like most of it would go to waste."

milk was two aisle over, but you could start with the rice and other grains available here. you followed the brands with you gaze in search of your preferred.

"whatever you don't want to buy i can pay for toji, it's not that complicated."

the man gave you a looked that could have been offended if he'd put enough effort into it, "i can afford whatever you want, doll."

hauling the bag of rice to the cart, you deposited it and resumed your way down the path. "good. then i shouldn't hear any more complaints."

did he ever stop grinning?

you shrugged and the motion caused your shoulder to brush against his arm. toji took it as a silent gesture to make way and step aside. one by one, you mentally crossed off another item from the list. every now and again, you'd add something fresh—all for megumi's benefit of course.

deciding that toji was indeed a resident of the house too (and the sole buyer), you reasoned to ask him for any of his own preferences.

humming through his though process, the man runs a hand through is hair and props his elbows on the side of the cart. "i did notice your list was devoid of anything particularly spicy. worried about a little bite?"

in truth, the blandness hadn't been intentional. when making lists for others, you tried to be as generic as possible. that was back when you had exceptions s that the man would simply check out when prompted to. you hadn't really considered specialized tastes. most of what you purchased for your own home was catered to megumi who never mentioned enjoying heated dishes.

"didn't know that was your thing. do you want to pick out something then?"

you found it impressive how civil this whole venture had become.

toji shifts his gaze away briefly before returning with an uptick of his lips, "i'll leave it to you."

or could have been.

with a huff, you go to steer the cart, forcing the man to right himself to avoid getting run over. rather than complain he just files back in behind you as you move from aisle to aisle.

you end up focusing more on spices then specific foods, already cataloging different dishes from your memory to take a shot at. its too early to tell if toji would actually appreciate the gesture, but fortunately there there was little that you wouldn't eat as well.

unable to resist, you snatched a few snacks and savory treats as well. toji eyed the selection with amusement but didn't comment on the spontaneous choices. maybe you actually picked something he liked or more likely he didn't care.

as surprising and albeit pleasantly non-confrontational this trip had been, you were aware of how long you'd already been in the store deemed it enough for the time being. least toji didn't binge through the entire cart, megumi would hopefully be able to enjoy some of it. though part of you still wished he would stop by just for company sake.

it was hard not to get attached to the boy.

as you brought the cart to the end of the conveyer belt, you turned to make a witty comment about helping unload, only to find the man ahead of the game with a few items already in tow. toji even nudged you away from the cart with an impatient hand.

"are you two together?" the question came from the far end of the conveyer belt where a young women waited with a scanner in hand.

toji replied neutrally, "i'm paying."

you watched as he made a show without effort. despite his lazy attire, he made it work for him shirt stretching and lifting to expose slivers of promise. a small tug against the cart still in your grip, pulled you from your observance as toji sent you a knowing look but didn't comment.

the same could not be said for the poor cashier still quite taken.

though you couldn't blame her, you'd been the same before you had the privilege of meeting him. if she was lucky maybe this would kickstart his own desire to finally come to the store and do his own bidding. then she could make the most of whatever she was after. likely nothing good for her.

your impatience bit into your kindness as you urged her own," i really need to get back home if you could please."

startled but easily composed, she managed a strained smile throughout the remainder of the process.

"come again!"

you take off the moment the receipt is in hand. your grumbling didn’t cease as you began unloading the bags from the cart. “she could have at least taken up our time after ringing us up.”

you jumped at the presence by your ear. toji collected the remaining groceries with ease and stored them away. “believe it or not, some people actually find me attractive.”

the problem wasn’t seeing or believing. you could do both of those well enough.

“it’s a shame then that i had to meet your personality first.”

against your better judgement, you decide that while megumi has a nice smile, his father has a pretty nice laugh.

remaining true to his new helpful occupation, toji carried the majority of the load to the building. where you would have taken the elevator to off set the weight, he confidently took the stairs. though the task seemed less daunting with two bags to his six.

"hang on."

toji paused by his door while you quickly rummaged through the bags and collected what you would need for dinner later. it was still early, but it would do good to marinate the meat in the time being.

he called out to you as you worked the key into your lock.

"now what?"

replying over one shoulder, you pushed open the door with the other. "now you go do whatever it is you do while i handle some other chores during my day off."

when you turned around, he was still there waiting, bags in hand. "sure you don’t need my help?"

you'd already spent more time alone today than you had in 2 years. it was unlikely that there was more that he could offer that you couldn't handle on your own.

"no, toji i think I’m good"

he studies you for a bit before shrugging.

"alright see you for dinner then."

unable to help yourself, you took the bait blindly. "i never invited you."

toji wiggled his fingers, "i paid. i invited myself," and snapped the door shut between you.

[sukirichi]

earned it [05]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. domestic abuse, car accident, slight angst, sexism, suggestive scenes, unedited and my naoya simping is obvious with this one, 

notes. TEAM NAOYA LET’S GOOOO *sighs* finally got this out from my drafts. anyways, here’s an earned it update while i recover from migraines because my schedule was so hectic last week and i’m so tired, might be sleeping a lot these days hence the hiatus :( also ik i keep saying this but future chapters will finally be more...UH SPICY AND MORE DRAMATIC, I guess? this is mostly an angst fic btw so please don’t expect too much fluff of heartwarming romance. there WILL be romance,,,it just takes some time hehe, anways ENJOY...or not :)

series masterlist

Women were weak. Trained to be voiceless, compliant, and unable to fight – Naoya found them weak.

His own mother was the perfect epitome of that. For years, he’d watched her leave his father’s room with dried tears, wiping them away with the back of her sleeves. When she saw a little Naoya standing at the edge of the hallway, she’d immediately usher him back to his room, her tears replaced with a smile so convincing Naoya wouldn’t have believed she’d been crying if he hadn’t seen it for himself.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. How could he be when day and night, he’s surrounded by tutors, expected to take over his clan and lead them all to a brighter future?

How could he be stupid when he can’t sleep at night, for the screams and cries of his mother, the sound of palm hitting cheek resonating just from the other room, accompanied with the insults directed her way by his own father?

How could he be so stupid when he looked up to his mother – who he believed was the only source of light in the rather desolate walls of their manor – only to see that her beauty faded with each passing day, the brightness of her eyes now filled agony, with pain, with fear? She no longer smiled; not even for him. She no longer came around his room to read him bedtime stories no matter how much Naoya pleaded because he’d gotten tired of reciting scriptures and poetry. She no longer kissed him on the forehead as a morning greeting, opting to stay in the sidelines with her head bowed, acting as if she was a servant and not his mother.

Naoya wasn’t stupid. As the future leader of the Zen’in Clan, it was his duty to hear and see everything, to be wary of everyone around him and to observe. He knew his father abused her. He knew his father hated her, looked down on her, stepped on her at each moment he could. And as if that wasn’t enough, Naoya found out they weren’t married in the first place.

She had been nothing but a mere concubine whose role was to birth an heir. Now that Naoya had come to life, her purpose to live ceased to exist. And people who had no role in the Zen’in estate had no reason to stay any further.

“Mother,” Naoya cried out, tugging at his mother’s sleeve. “Mother, please don’t go, don’t leave me!”

She was crying again; he wished she’d stop doing that, that she’d stop being so weak. He wanted his mother to be strong and fight back, but she’s not even attempting to wipe her tears away this time, displaying her vulnerability and meek self to him. Had his father been there, she’d be scolded again, claiming that Naoya shouldn’t be exposed to behaviors of surrender and weakness.

His mother cupped his face, trying her best to keep the younger version of himself from dangling onto her robes; the expensive, silk material the last evidence she’d ever been a part of them.

“Naoya, baby, it’s okay. You need to grow up strong and be the clan leader, okay?”

“But why do you have to leave? Why do you never fight back?”

“I’m sorry, dear...” was all she said, finally kissing him on the forehead like she’d failed to do so for the past months. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better. Instead, Naoya’s cries grows louder with each minute, loud enough that he caught the attention of his manservants who paled at the Young Master’s wails that was sure to displease his father locked inside his study. His mother sent a glance their way that expressed messages he couldn’t yet understand due to his innocence. Strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame until they dragged Naoya away from his mother, the sight of a luggage behind her turning him weak in the knees.

“Remember, Mother always loves you.”

“No!” he fought against their hold. His servants did all they could to not harm the Young Master’s skin, but Naoya was too strong, too desperate that they were unable to hold him back.

Naoya kept running and running, uncaring of the fact his loose robes hindered him from going at full speed. He didn’t stop, even as his servants had trailed after him, desperate pleas for the Young Master to come back falling into deaf ears. His mother had arrived on a nearby bus from the open roads that led outside the Zen’in Estate’s outer gates, her hand frozen on the doors with her head slightly tilted to the side.

That slight moment of hesitance – to look behind or leave everything behind – was what made Naoya stop in his tracks. He breathed hard, sweaty palms on his knees as he silently prayed to the divine beings to bring his mother back, for her to look at him one last time.

But she didn’t.

And Naoya was frozen in his tracks, everything colliding into one crash and burn that he failed to make sense of everything. He stood there and watched his mother hop into the bus, her decision to leave him behind final and irrevocable. What had rung louder then? The way his heart shattered into pieces, or the loud honking of an incoming car that not even his skilled team of guards could protect him from?

Naoya figured it must’ve been the muffled cries of his mother behind the windows that rung the loudest even if he hadn’t heard it.

Until now, he carried the mark his mother left behind; a gnarly scar running inches from his kneecaps that throbs until now. It reminds him every day what could happen to someone once they’re weak, once they’re vulnerable, the horrifying consequence of not being strong enough to face in this world like a huge slap in his face. In a way, he felt grateful for the scar; at least it was proof he’d done his best to run after his mother, and this injury just taught him it was best to face things head on instead of running away.

This scar would always tell him that running away was never the option, and that was why Naoya felt so strong, so disappointed when he met you. Naoya saw much potential in you – the wrath firing in your eyes and the will to fight back is what pulled him in on the first place – and yet you were already trembling on the ground, your sweat dripping on the floor.

“Stand up!” he demanded, tapping his cane on the ground as he wobbled to his feet. “Do you really think being weak will make you survive in this world?”

“I’m trying!”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” he spat out, matching the intensity of your glare. Had you been any lesser of a woman, a servant, he’d have your eyes gouged out. But to him, you were a vessel of hope, an embodiment of strength he could help you hone that he let you off. Still, he felt extremely let down that he expected so much from you, and you’ve been pathetic so far.

Naoya shook his head as he left. “You’re going to die the moment you step out of here. And to think I actually had high hopes for you. As expected, you women are weak and pathetic. Each one of you is useless.”

He didn’t get very far when his injury throbbed again. Naoya fell to his knees and immediately bit down on his lip to conceal his groans, but it was too late. You’ve rushed to him in an instant, already pulling his slacks upwards to get a good look at his knee. Worry is painted all over your features still drenched in sweat and exhaustion, and he pried your hand away, a frown deep on his lips.

“Get away from me. I don’t need a woman’s help.”

“You’re so uptight, you know that?” you rebutted with a roll of your eyes. Naoya watched as you skipped to the nearest medical kit he always kept in his training grounds (which he rarely used) and popping out painkillers to hand to him. “Just shut up and let me take care of you. Unlike you, I don’t walk around calling people weak, and you having this injury never made you weak in my eyes, but you’re not impotent either,” scoffing at him, you pushed the bottle of water to a very annoyed looking Naoya. “At least let me take care of you every once in a while.”

His whole life, Naoya knew nothing but the familiar bitter cold. Being served tea, scaring his servants with his mere presence, the toxic view that everyone was below them drilled into his own head – that had been his life, and his feelings about it were neither hot nor cold.

To him, it was just the way he’s supposed to be.

But the warmth of your hands, the tenderness of your touch to his scars not because you found him weak but rather you cared for him…it tugged at his heartstrings. That had been at least five years ago and Naoya still remembered that moment very clearly.

He couldn’t understand whether he hated his inability to run away or not, because to be around you confused him to no end. One moment, he saw you as nothing but his one way ticket to fortune, but when he was alone with you, he was beginning to see you more as a woman rather than a pawn to his game. Soon, you became more than that, and nothing had terrified him even more that he let someone in his heart just like that.

Did he love you? No, most definitely not. A man like him didn’t know how to love. But with you – every time he saw you – Naoya is confident to admit that he could somehow understand what love meant.

It had been a hellish trip – one he’d never admit it out loud that he wished to never go on again. He was just happy to be home before he laughed, because home? He’d never thought he’d ever say that, yet there he was, beaming at the sight of you pushing your weight off the limousine.

You looked as stunning as usual, running up to him even with your heels before wrapping your arms around his neck. Usually, Naoya didn’t like public displays of affection since it could greatly deter his reputation, but everyone knew both of you weren’t each other’s weaknesses that he didn’t care whether his people could see their leader grinning as his wife welcomed with a kiss. Naoya balanced himself on his cane to encircle a hand to your waist, pulling you closer and burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” you mumbled with your head buried in his shoulder.

Naoya’s smile wasn’t any less affectionate. “I missed you more.” And he did – a whole lot. Even as you both made it inside the limousine, the tablet passed to him per the usual to update him on what happened on the few days of his absence, Naoya couldn’t keep his hands to himself. His cane balanced between his knee and the door, while his free hand intertwined with yours, mindlessly caressing the matching rings that symbolized more trust than love.

“How did it go?” he brought your knuckles up to his lips and kissed it, his attention still focused on today’s stock market. “Did you convince him to lend us the lab?”

“Yes, my love, everything is under control. I told you I had it.”

“Cunning little minx,” he smirked at the confidence and triumph dripping from your voice. Naoya shut his tablet off with a click, hauling you until you were resting on his lap. Giggles erupted beautifully from your lips as you pressed your forehead to his, both your smiles equally mischievous. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No. Satoru is still hopelessly in love with me, so it didn’t really take much to push him to the edge with a few tears and white lies,” you smiled at him, soon dropping from your face when Naoya’s eyes darkened with an unreadable – no, unfamiliar hint of worry behind them. “Naoya,” you caressed his leg, “I don’t care about him anymore, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I just want to survive and put everything behind,” you cupped his face and forced him to look you in the eye, making sure he heard every bit of sincerity in your voice. “You know I love you, right? I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. Him coming back doesn’t change a thing.”

“I know that,” he said, although deep down, in the dark recesses of his heart, something agonizing stirred within.

You were a smart woman – too intelligent that he may have feared you had he been any lesser – who could easily read through him, but Naoya wanted to be a step ahead of you that he caught your lips to stop you from seeking beneath his soul already. He knew that if you looked a little too close, you’d see everything, and that would be the last thing he wanted.

Snaking his tongue past your lips, he greedily swallowed your moans. Naoya’s touch was possessive as he gripped your thigh, seconds away from ripping off the material of your dress. He only stopped once he saw his driver pale in awkwardness, and he chuckled to himself, squeezing your hips to stop you from grinding on his thigh.  

“You’re always so good for me,” he praised, “I might just reward you once we get home.”

Home. Prior to meeting you, home had been nothing but a word in his extensive vocabulary. Home had been nothing but something that carried a meaning but no significance in his living, but now that he’d met you, home felt familiar. Home smelled like rose-scented shampoos, it resonated of bubbly laughter and curious hands finding its way to its belt. Home…you’d just given him something to lose.

As per the plan, you managed to sneak past Satoru’s defenses. Naoya had once said that your secret weapon was not your tempting nature as a woman, but rather your intelligence that sometimes put his to shame. He’d shamelessly announced his plan to use you again with the goal of taking matters into your own hands, looping Satoru into the picture until you have him wrapped around your finger again.

It turned out to be easier than expected. Truthfully, you wanted to refuse. It wasn’t because you were worried you’d beat yourself in your own game and fall for Satoru again, but because it felt so uncomfortable to hold him like that, to kiss him like that.

Each second you spent with him just served as a painful reminder of how he’d mindlessly pushed you to the side from a failed plan of ‘protecting’ you.

However, you couldn’t complain nor deny Naoya’s wishes. He wanted to use your abilities to the fullest of its extent and bring out your potential. Besides, you trusted him wholeheartedly that you’d never question his motives, even if it included seducing Satoru with crocodile tears and a faux broken heart to get him to bend and move at your will. After all, your will was also Naoya’s, and that was what made the both of you so dangerous together.

Standing here now in Satoru’s laboraty, sending him phoney desperate glances as you clutched your husband’s hand, the game had just begun.

He was giving you both a tour of what you could use from his laboratory, and Naoya had kept silent the whole time. The whole drug manufacturing was more your expertise than his. He simply observed everything with watchful eyes, his gaze darting between Satoru’s longing ones and yours. It was a play pretend of push and pull, everyone in the room except for Satoru unaware that soon, you’d bare your fangs to rip his neck apart, and then you’d stand aside and let Naoya finish the business.

You would’ve laughed had Naoya not tightened his grip on your hand. Both you and Satoru paused as Naoya desperately shushed you up, his eyes wide and floating from one corner to another.

Suddenly, a loud explosion came out of nowhere. The blast crushed half of the building to bare rubble and concrete and you saw nothing but black, inhaled so much smoke that your lungs quivered. The ringing in your ears didn’t stop as you wobbled to unsteady legs, waving the smoke away and coughing whatever filled your system. Satoru was right beside you, his long limbs quicker than yours before he hauled you up, checking to see if you had injuries but you were too scared, too desolate to care for his worry.

For your husband laid under a pile of rubble, an arm and his head the only parts of his body saved from the explosion.

“Naoya!” You screamed and pushed Gojo away, taking your heels off before darting straight to where he was. Jumping from broken debris to one another, your feet scraped and burned with each contact, the ringing in your ears growing louder along with the pounding of your heartbeat.

“Naoya, baby, no!” you tried to pick up the heavy slab of concrete that had crushed his body, tears blurring your vision until Naoya’s blond hair swiveled with his dark clothes. “Don’t leave me, don’t leave me, don’t you fucking dare-”

“Gojo,” he choked out blood. You fell to your knees as you cupped his face and grasped his hand all the while, your entire body shaking. His name kept falling from your lips as you asked him to stand up but he pushed your hand away, not sparing you another glance as he glared at the shock still man behind you. “Take her someplace far – somewhere he won’t find the both of you. It’s T-Toji.”

“No, Naoya, please! I’m not leaving without you!” It was too late. Satoru had easily carried you and threw you over his shoulder, running away from the scene because that was what he was best at. You pounded at his back as the smoke enlarged and covered the entirety of the building that had fizzled with chemicals inside, your husband starting to disappear from view. “Satoru, let me go! We can’t just leave him there!”

“Listen to your husband! He knows what he’s doing!”

As the smoke cleared for a split second, your world stilled. Naoya’s face was smothered with dirt and stains, pain evident on his twisted features, and yet – he was smiling. “Go,” he mouthed, hands outstretched far enough for your matching rings to glint under the sparkling lights. “Live.”

You slumped into Satoru’s arms. It was too late.

You couldn’t comprehend the events that happened afterwards. Satoru had pushed you inside his car before taking off to who knows where. All you knew was that you’d left your husband behind, and you stared emptily at the streets that flashed by, unable to feel or understand anything. It wasn’t until Satoru dragged you out by the wrist and a plane whirring before you snapped you back to life, your feet turning heavy as you plant yourself on the ground.

Satoru looked back at you.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you shook your head, “I’m not leaving him behind, Satoru, he’s all I have. I need to save him – even if it means I die.”

“You’re not going to die,” he starts off slowly. Satoru moves to place his hands down on your shoulders as if to brace you, even going as far as to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you couldn’t really listen, not when the plane hummed to life and remnants of the explosion still clung to your skin.

“Listen, Naoya is a smart man, okay? You know that yourself. He’ll survive, you just need to trust that he’ll make it. Now we have to go before Toji catches up to us and we end up all dying here!” he shook you back to life when your sobs overpowered his speech that fell on deaf ears, and you cried harder, much less like a little girl who quivered in his arms. Satoru sighed, perhaps just as broken from seeing you this way. “He told you to live. Naoya isn’t asking you to die for him, he’s asking you to live and if you don’t get on the plane, we can’t fulfill his wish,” he convinced, but you only bit your lip, still looking back at the car. You could steal it – one punch to his nose and you could easily get away, get back to Naoya, until he said, “You love him right? So respect his wishes.”

You love him. You love Naoya. He would’ve wanted me to live. He asked me to live.

That was the only consolation you could give yourself as you allowed Satoru to take you inside. His right hand man, Geto or something, quietly closed the cabin doors behind you. He was making sure his boss was situated, who in turn was fretting over you. All it took was one last warning glare sent Satoru’s way before he backed off, raising his hands in surrender and falling back to his seat.

Sooner than you’d like, the plane had took off, leaving your heart right behind with each passing second. The higher you flew up in the air, the number you became.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a base in Italy. We should be safe there for a while. Gather resources, plan our next move, contact friends...we’ll be fine,” Satoru pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard to believe things would be fine when he too seemed restless; whatever happened between him and Toji must’ve really left a scar; not that you cared. You huffed away from Satoru and stared outside the windows instead, your heart dropping the farther Japan was becoming. “Hey. You should get some rest. You’ve had a long day.”

“Whatever,” you snapped at him. You couldn’t stand his voice, not even if he’s saved you.

The only thing that mattered now was living up to Naoya’s wish, and as much as you hated it, Satoru was right. You had to hope he would survive.

The chances of him making it out were low, but knowing Naoya, low chances weren’t zero. As long as he had a little bit of something, he would keep pushing. You just had to place your trust in him.

Kissing your dusty ring, you wiped away your tears one last time, eyes shut tight as you chanted over and over, live, live, live for me! Live! Naoya couldn’t give up that easily. You both had a long way to go, still so many places to travel, thousand more enemies to conquer and defeat. He promised you the fun was just beginning and that you’d get your revenge soon, and Naoya never broke his promises. So you had to trust, had no other choice but to believe that soon he’d be right beside you. He may not be able to completely walk anymore, though none of that mattered. You just wanted to be with him again.

You didn’t realize you’d fallen asleep until Satoru’s hushed whispers woke you up. Sitting up straight, you saw him scowling to whoever he’s talking to on the phone. He looked grim, long, slender fingers caressing his forehead as he sighed. Whatever he heard, it couldn’t have been good, and curiosity got the best of you before you could help it.

“What is it?” Satoru stilled at the sound of your voice, having not expected you to be awake. He refused to meet your eyes as he shut his phone. It angered you further and you stalked his way, slapping a palm down the table before him. “I said, what is it?”

“It’s Naoya...” he said through clenched teeth, still refusing to look you in the eye. “He didn’t make it.”

notes. team naoya...let’s go...cry 😭 when I said I would write more gojo x reader scenes and that they’re still the pairing, I meant it, I just had to take a dark route anyways DO YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHY IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO UPDATE THIS, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS TO NAOYA BAE 😭 but on the bright side, italy arc is gonna be SHEESH

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