#there is no loyalty in this household 🤧

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away - N

I kinda want to write one shot of Reader X Agatha or Reader X Agatha X Rio. But gotta finish this first.

There might be typos or other mistakes, but I'm too tired to go over it again. 🤧

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part N | Part O&P | Part Q | Part R | Epilogue

Warning: Depictions of blood and violence may be disturbing to some readers

The city simmered with tension, its usual hum of life subdued under the oppressive presence of royal guards. Called upon by the spymaster himself, the guards patrolled the streets with visible unease, their sharp eyes scanning for signs of trouble. The spymaster had woven a tale of two foreigners—dangerous and unrelenting—kidnapping his granddaughter and attacking his household. The story seemed plausible to many in the city and the palace. After all, who would dare doubt the spymaster of the king?

Through the city gates, the foreigners in question arrived, their presence as commanding as a thunderstorm rolling in.

Agatha strode forward first, her flowing purple dress catching the faint sunlight. Her wavy hair framed her face, her expression a mask of calm that only made her glowing blue eyes more unsettling. Around her hands, purple sparks of magic crackled faintly as though impatiently waiting to be unleashed.

Beside her, Rio was a stark contrast. Clad in a tailored black suit, her dark eyes were sharp and cold, her posture exuding predatory confidence. Her hair fluttered slightly as though moved by an unseen force, and her aura pulsed with latent power. Together, they were a force of nature, their very presence turning heads and quickening pulses.

Rio and Agatha’s presence was impossible to ignore. The air seemed to hum around them, a faint shimmer of magic curling at their feet like restless shadows.

The guards stationed at the gates faltered as they approached. While the two women made no overt move to attack, the palpable energy surrounding them was enough to unnerve even the bravest of men.

"Stand aside," Rio commanded, her voice low but carrying an undeniable authority.

One guard stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. "You’re the ones we were warned about," he said, his voice wavering slightly despite his attempt to sound firm. "By order of the king, we’re to apprehend you on sight."

Agatha’s lips curved into a cold smile, her fingers flexing subtly as the violet energy around her hands flared briefly. "Apprehend us?" she repeated, her tone laced with amusement. "Do you really think that’s possible?"

The guards didn’t retreat. Their loyalty—or fear of the spymaster—pushed them forward despite the ominous energy crackling in the surroundings. One by one, they drew their swords, grimly advancing toward the witches.

Agatha’s sharp gaze flicked over the advancing guards, unimpressed. "Amateurs," she muttered, her voice cold and disdainful.

One guard lunged, his blade aimed directly at her heart. But before he could get within striking distance, Agatha raised a single hand, her fingers moving with a graceful, almost dismissive flourish.

In an instant, arrows of pure, crackling purple magic materialised in the air, shimmering with deadly precision. The guards barely had time to react before the arrows shot forward, their speed blinding. Each arrow found its mark and pierced the guards’ heavy armour as if it were made of paper. The enchanted projectiles struck true, piercing their chests and sending them crumpling to the floor one by one. The faint glow of her arrows still hovered around Agatha, ready to strike again if needed.

"Wasting their lives," Rio said coldly as she clicked her tongue, her voice devoid of emotion as she stepped forward. Her dark eyes, sharp and calculating, let out a low, humourless laugh. "If they surrendered, it would’ve been a simple job for me."

One of the remaining guards, emboldened or desperate, charged toward Rio with a fierce yell. His sword glinted in the sunlight as he raised it high, determined to strike her down. But Rio didn’t move. Her lips curled into a wolfish grin as she raised one hand.

The ground beneath the guard trembled, a low rumble that vibrated through the cobblestones. Before he could reach her, thick, jagged roots erupted from the earth, snaking around his legs and dragging him to a halt. He struggled and swung his sword wildly, but the roots tightened, lifting him off the ground by one foot. He dangled helplessly in midair, his blade clattering uselessly to the street.

"Pathetic," Rio muttered, flicking her wrist. The roots swayed slightly, tightening their grip on his ankle but doing no more harm. The guard hung suspended, his face red with effort as he tried to free himself. Rio’s sharp eyes swept over him, and a small, wicked smirk tugged at her lips. "You’re lucky I’m not here for you today."

She turned her attention to the remaining guards, her grin widening. "Anyone else?"

The others hesitated, their gazes darting between their helpless comrade and the crackling energy swirling around Agatha. Some began to back away, their courage faltering in the face of overwhelming power. Their retreat was hesitant at first, but as Rio took a deliberate step forward, her cold gaze boring into them, they scattered in fear, leaving their swords abandoned on the ground.

The spymaster’s estate stood silent under the glaring sun, the air heavy with anticipation as Agatha and Rio advanced toward the gates. The destruction they left in their wake painted a clear message: they had come for blood.

Agatha's magic surged around her, coiling like a living entity hungry for vengeance. Her eyes burned an icy blue, and the hem of her dress whipped violently in the magical storm she commanded. Rio strode beside her wife in her pitch-black suit that reminded her of death, her dark eyes sharp and unforgiving. The cobblestones cracked beneath her feet as the earth shifted subtly in response to her fury.

The gates to the estate were heavily guarded, but the spymaster’s forces might as well have been paper before the storm that was Agatha and Rio.

With a flick of her wrist, Agatha sent tendrils of glowing purple energy lashing out, piercing the guards' chests as if their armour were nothing. They dropped like leaves, their weapons clattering uselessly to the ground, creating a red river of blood.

Rio raised her hand, the cobblestones rippling like water before sharp vines erupted from the earth, coiling around the remaining guards. The screams of their enemies echoed across the courtyard, but neither woman flinched. They were past the point of mercy.

Inside the estate, the spymaster paced anxiously in his study, his sword in hand. He sneered at the muffled sounds of chaos outside. "Fools," he muttered. "They’ll regret stepping into my city."

But the doors to his study slammed open with a deafening crash, the wood splintering as Agatha and Rio entered. The spymaster turned, his face twisted in fury, but his expression faltered as he took in the terrifying sight before him.

Agatha’s magic crackled with unrestrained power, casting an eerie purple glow across the room. Rio’s dark gaze was colder than death itself, her presence suffocating as she stepped forward, her hand brushing against the hilt of her dagger.

"You dare bring your filth here," the spymaster growled, trying to regain his composure. "You think you can defy me? I am the spymaster of the king—"

"You were," Agatha cut him off, her voice sharp and venomous. She raised her hand, and purple energy shot forward, wrapping around the spymaster’s throat. He gasped, clawing at the invisible force as it lifted him off the ground.

Rio’s voice was quiet but no less menacing as she stepped closer. "You beat her. Hurt her. Spilled her blood." Her fingers twitched, and the ground beneath the spymaster cracked, jagged rocks jutting upward, grazing his dangling legs. "You thought you could take everything from her, and we would do nothing?"

Agatha tightened her grip on the magic, her gaze burning with hatred. "You call her a disgrace," she hissed. "But the only disgrace here is you." Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper as she added, "You don’t deserve to call yourself her family."

The spymaster struggled, his face red as he choked against the magical noose. "You think you’re better?" he rasped, his voice barely audible. "You’re nothing but monsters. Foreign filth who—"

His words were cut off as Rio stepped forward. Her posture was calm, but the air around her shifted, thickening with an oppressive weight. Her dark eyes glowed faintly as she spoke, her voice carrying an unnatural resonance. "You like to speak of disgrace and power," she said quietly. "Let me show you what true power looks like."

Agatha only glanced at her wife as Rio’s form began to change. The room grew colder, and the light dimmed as a black mist seeped from her body. Her once-perfect face twisted, revealing the truth beneath. The lower half of her face faded into bone, a grinning skull that glinted ominously under the dim light. The transformation was grotesquely beautiful, a reminder of the being she truly was.

The spymaster’s eyes widened in horror as he struggled harder against Agatha’s grip. His breaths became laboured, his body shaking as he tried to claw at the invisible force choking him, as though he could escape Death itself.

Rio’s skeletal hand reached out, her cold fingers brushing against his chin. The touch sent a visible shudder through his body, and he froze, his eyes wild with terror. "You fear me now," she murmured, her voice a haunting echo that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "You should have feared me then."

"Wh-what are you?" the spymaster gasped, his voice barely audible.

"I am Death," she said simply, her skeletal grin widening. Her grip on his chin tightened as she tilted his head, forcing him to meet her gaze. "I’ve come to collect what you owe."

Agatha stepped closer, her magic swirling more violently as her fury reignited. "You wanted to treat her like a pawn, a tool for your ambitions. Now look at you—powerless and pathetic."

The spymaster tried to speak, to protest, but Rio’s skeletal fingers dug deeper into his skin. The room seemed to darken further as she leaned in, her voice soft and chilling. "You will feel every ounce of pain you inflicted on her, every bit of fear and despair you caused. And then," she drawled deliberately, "you will die."

The spymaster’s screams echoed through the estate as Agatha and Rio unleashed their wrath. Agatha’s magic struck like lightning, searing through his body, while Rio’s vines coiled tighter around him, pulling and crushing with merciless precision.

When the end came, it was slow and torturous, his final breath a gurgling plea that fell on deaf ears. As his lifeless body crumpled to the floor, Rio returned to her human form, her dark eyes meeting Agatha’s.

"It’s done," Agatha said, her voice heavy with finality.

As Rio and Agatha turned to leave, their path was interrupted by F/N's father, who stood frozen in the doorway. His face was pale, his hands trembling at his sides as his gaze flicked between the lifeless body of his father and the two women who had so effortlessly ended him.

Rio’s dark eyes bore into him as she stepped closer, her voice low and unyielding. "Be a better father than the monster you served," she said coldly, her words sharp and cutting. Agatha followed, her piercing blue gaze snapping at him with equal intensity. "She deserves a family who will protect her, not one that will destroy her," she added, her tone dripping with disdain. "You have a chance to make amends for the years you failed her. Don’t squander it." The weight of their words hung heavy in the air, but before F/N’s father could respond, a panicked voice cut through the tension.

"You can’t take her," a young boy cried out, his voice trembling with both fear and desperation. He had been standing in the shadows with F/N's mother and sister, his wide eyes darting between the two witches. His voice shaking but firm. "I don’t trust you to take care of her."

Rio raised an eyebrow, a dark glint flashing in her eyes. Agatha, however, didn’t look surprised. She merely tilted her head, her gaze sharpening. "And why is that?" she asked, her voice laced with icy amusement. The brother hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously between them. "Because I’ve heard things," he said finally. "Purple shaman…you cursed her, didn’t you? You were called by another noble house—my friend’s family—to ruin her life. That’s why all this happened, isn’t it?"

Agatha’s hand twitched, a faint crackle of purple magic sparking at her fingertips. Though she didn’t move closer, the charged air between them was palpable. "Am I?" she asked smoothly, her tone unsettlingly calm. Her piercing blue eyes bore into him, making him falter and take an instinctive step back.

"I…" he stammered, visibly unsettled but still holding his ground. "You’re dangerous. Both of you. How do we know you won’t hurt her? How do I know you haven’t already cursed my sister by destroying my family?"

The sharp accusation hung in the air, and Agatha’s magic flared briefly before she reined it in with a deep, steadying breath. She stepped closer, her gaze icy. "Cursed your sister? Destroying your family?" she echoed, her voice dripping with incredulity. Her hand tightened into a fist, the faint glow around her fingers subsiding as she forced herself to remain composed. "And where were you?" she asked softly, her words cutting like a blade. "When was your eldest sister hurting?"

His lips parted, but no sound came out. Agatha’s eyes narrowed, her expression unreadable yet cold. "Where were you when your grandfather beat her when he stripped her of everything but her dignity? Where were you when she was crawling on the floor, protecting your second sister with what little strength she had left?"

"I…" His voice faltered, his resolve cracking under the weight of her words. He averted his gaze, shame flickering in his expression as his inability to answer became painfully obvious.

Agatha tilted her head, her voice softening just enough to be heard over the silence. "Your second sister—she stood up for her. She put herself in harm’s way. But you? You’re here now, questioning the people who saved her, who would die for her." She took a step back, her eyes still fixed on him. "Where was your bravery then?"

Rio, standing quietly until now, let out a low, mocking chuckle. "Seems bravery comes easy when the stakes aren’t as high," she said, her dark eyes gleaming as she crossed her arms. "But don’t mistake our restraint for weakness. If we were here to destroy anything, boy, you wouldn’t have the chance to stand there accusing us."

The young man’s face flushed with anger and humiliation, but he didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The heavy silence that followed was punctuated only by his sister’s sharp intake of breath and their mother’s muffled sobs from the corner of the room. Agatha's expression was unreadable, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed the storm she held within. Agatha took a deliberate step forward, her presence suffocating as she loomed over him. "The only danger she faced," she said quietly, her voice dripping with menace, "was in this house. From your grandfather, from your silence, and from your family’s failures." Her magic sparked again, brighter this time, but she stopped short of doing anything more.

F/N’s father, still standing frozen nearby, finally broke the tension. "Enough," he said, his voice hoarse. His shoulders slumped as he stepped forward, glancing at Agatha and Rio before turning his gaze to his son. "They helped your sister," he said softly, his voice steady but weary. "Let it go."

The young man opened his mouth as if to argue but faltered under his father’s exhausted yet resolute expression. His shoulders sagged, and he looked away, his frustration palpable but muted by the weight of the moment.

Agatha’s sharp gaze lingered on him for a beat longer before she turned her focus back to F/N’s father. Her features softened slightly, though the tension in her posture didn’t fully ease. "Wise words," she said, her tone still edged with steel. "I suggest you all heed them."

Rio gave a slow, approving nod, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of wariness and restrained anger. "The past can’t be changed," she said, her voice calm but firm. "But you’d do well to stop clinging to it before it drags you all down further."

The room fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the conversation settling heavily on everyone.

A softer voice cut through. "Am I never going to see her again?" F/N’s sister asked, stepping forward. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears as she looked up at Rio, then Agatha. "Are you taking her away forever?" Rio’s gaze softened for a moment as she glanced at Agatha. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air between them. Agatha pursed her lips, her expression conflicted as she looked at the younger girl. "It’s not our decision," Agatha said finally, her tone quieter now but still firm. "It’s hers."

The sister’s face crumpled slightly, her hands clasping together as if trying to hold herself steady. "Please…just tell her I love her," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Before anyone could say more, F/N’s mother stumbled forward, her tears flowing freely as she sobbed, "Leave us be! Just take her and leave us be!"

Agatha turned sharply, her piercing blue eyes flashing with contempt. "Leave you be?" she echoed coldly, her tone cutting through the mother’s wailing like a blade. "After everything you’ve allowed to happen to her, the only thing you have to say is 'leave us be'? Not even a single question about how she’s doing, whether she’s all right, or if she’ll ever recover?" Her words dripped with venom, each one striking like a whip.

The mother’s sobs grew louder, but she didn’t respond. The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of Agatha’s condemnation hanging heavy in the air.

F/N’s mother had always been a coward, too afraid to stand up to her father-in-law and too wary of her eldest daughter’s mysterious power over animals. Her fear had distanced her from F/N, leaving a chasm between them that only deepened over the years. While F/N’s father and siblings had tried in their own ways to protect and connect with her, the mother had kept her distance, retreating into herself rather than confronting the injustices F/N had endured.

Rio shifted slightly, her dark eyes narrowing as she observed the family. "The way she turned out is a surprise to me," she muttered, her voice low but audible enough to cut through the tension. Her tone carried a quiet rage, tempered only by the presence of her wife beside her.

Agatha’s gaze lingered on the family for a moment longer, her expression a mixture of disgust and finality. With sharp, deliberate movements, she turned on her heel. "We’re done here," she said flatly, her tone carrying the weight of a verdict. Without another glance, she strode toward the door, each step heavy with barely contained fury.

Rio followed her pace more measured but no less resolute. As she reached the gate, she paused, her dark eyes narrowing as she glanced back at F/N’s father. "Be better," she said simply, her voice quiet but brimming with unspoken weight. "For her sake, and for theirs."

The silence following her words was deafening. The family stood frozen, the sting of Rio’s statement cutting through the tension like a blade.

The witches strode away together, their departure leaving an indelible mark on the broken family. The room remained still, heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged guilt. The brother stood stiffly, his earlier bravado shattered, while the sister sobbed quietly, her trembling hands covering her face. The father, his shoulders slumped under the weight of shame, stared after them, the shadows of his failure etched into every line of his face.

As the door creaked shut behind the two women, the sister’s voice broke through the stillness, a whisper filled with trembling despair. "She’s really gone… isn’t she?"

No one answered. The mother’s tears flowed freely, but she remained silent, her guilt too profound for words. The brother’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tight with a mixture of anger and confusion. The father’s head bowed, his voice failing him as the full weight of what had transpired settled over them.

Outside, the witches disappeared into the distance, their path lit only by the flicker of fading lantern light. The echoes of their confrontation hung in the air long after they were gone, leaving the family to grapple with the scars left behind.

[adelalovesmadara]

I've come to see 'canon couples', particularly NH and SS, as people that happened to be in a marriage ― convenient marriage. They're not shown to be in a real relationship by the author Kishimoto Masashi.

On the other hand, I do see 🍥 and 🍅 as two people in a rather healthy relationship (partnership) after their second and last battle in valley of the end.

Just...

Think long and hard, do NH and SS have even just two of these qualities?

◉Mutual Acceptance

NH: *squinting* Eh. Debatable.

SS: *rolls on the floor* Hahaha, no.

◉Mutual Affection

NH: At least it's emotionally and physically absent... wait.

SS: UHM.

◉Mutual Appreciation

NH: ... uhm. One sided at best. Hinata seems to put Naruto on a pedestal more so than even Sakura does with Sasuke.

SS: Nonexistent. Sakura doesn't seem to appreciate Sasuke as a person.

◉Mutual Attention

NH: ...

SS: ...

◉Mutual Boundaries

NH: Hinata... uh... she's in the very background of the story...?

SS: Sakura doesn't take rejections well.

◉Mutual Care

NH: Lunch boxes from Hinata's side... absence from Naruto' side. Gosh NH is just.... ugh!

SS: 😴

◉Mutual Choice

NH: ... Naruto didn't. Hinata was chosen by... by 😬 the gods lol.

SS: Not found on Sasuke's side.

◉Mutual Commitment

NH: Nonexistent. One-sided commitment is one-sided.

SS: Nonexistent. One-sided commitment is one-sided.

◉Mutual Communication

NH: ... not... found?

SS: Not found.

◉Mutual Compassion

NH: One-sided. Or just friendly in nature?

SS: ... what.. is compassion in a relationship? - Sakura

◉Mutual Compromise

NH: Compromise on never really being around, more like.

SS: Bare... Nonexistent.

◉Mutual Consent

NH: ... Maybe? Seems to be reluctant on Naruto's part.

SS: Atrociously nonexistent.

◉Mutual Curiosity

NH: One-sided.

SS: One-sided.

◉Mutual Decision

NH: Well. They're in a marriage... it... it must... it must be a decision made mutually... right?

SS: Coercion. Full stop.

◉Mutual Devotion

NH: Naruto devotes his time to work and have secret meetings with Sasuke!

SS: Sakura devotes her time wearing the Uchiha clan symbol!

◉Mutual Equality

NH: ...

SS: Not found on Sasuke's side.

◉Mutual Freedom

NH: Hinata is free to make as many lunch boxes as she likes! And... Naruto is free to sleep at his workplace!

SS: Sakura is free, so free to show off the Uchiha clan symbol, anytime, anywhere❢ And ... 🙄🤧Well, at least Sasuke is free for around eleven years!

◉Mutual Friendship

NH: :(((

SS: :(((((

◉Mutual Honesty

NH: Rawrrrr

SS: Rawr

◉Mutual Inclusion

NH: Barely exist.

SS: Nonexistent.

◉Mutual Integrity

NH: 😓

SS: 😓

◉Mutual Interests

NH: Pfft.

SS: *coughing and gurgling* N-NO.

◉Mutual Intimacy

NH: ...

SS: One instance of Forehead Poke™ (that signifies lies and distance) is not intimacy.

◉Mutual Love

NH: A marriage doesn't guarantee love.

SS: A MARRIAGE DOESN'T GUARANTEE LOOOOOOOOOVEEEEEEEE!

◉Mutual Loyalty

NH & SS: Huh. Well, at least Naruto and Sasuke aren't cheating...🤤 (NH and SS marriages are the cheating ones)

◉Mutual Passion

NH: Naruto seems to have more planned dates with Sasuke more than he has with Hinata.

SS: ... Sakura is passionately dusting the cabinets!

◉Mutual Precedence

NH: ... Hinata prioritizes Naruto... uhhh

SS: ... Sakura... urghhh...

◉Mutual Respect

NH: A resounding 'yes' on Hinata's part I guess. So no, definitely not mutual.

SS: ＮＡＨＨＨＨＨＨＨＨＨＨＨＨＨ

◉Mutual Safety

NH: Hinata... 🙄 I guess.

SS: ❓

◉Mutual Strength

NH: ... Erm. Nonexistent.

SS: Non... Nonexistent.

◉Mutual Support

NH: I guess. Hmm. Not shown by Naruto.

SS: Support what?

◉Mutual Teamwork

NH: Raising children... managing a house... those things don't require teamwork yeahhh! Hinata Boruto is the boss of the household🤡

SS: ...

◉Mutual Trust

NH: Comrades! On the surface.

SS: Trust? ... Trust... Trust... 🤯

◉Mutual Understanding

NH: Superficial on Hinata's part.

SS: Shallow on Sakura's part.

◉Mutual Vulnerability

NH: One or two times... or three... but never starts with Naruto, at least not with genuine interest in Hinata as a person🤧.

SS: Sakura takes advantage of Sasuke's vulnerability... that time when he first woke up and started beating the Oto genin team... and that time when he's woken up from a coma...