#now that’s pillar-box red

[the-busy-ghost]

Thank GOD, we really dodged a bullet there, can you imagine if the UK had to host Eurovision in this day and age

#No offence to the UK act I mean well done to them for getting as high as they did but second place is respectable #AND we don't have to witness the horrid spectacle of a UK Eurovision #It's a win win #Honestly just breathing a huge sigh of relief right now #It would be terrible #There would be so much Buckingham palace-red pillar box-London bus-corgis and tea shite #And it's not like they'd ever hold it somewhere like Edinburgh or Harrogate like they used to- even Birmingham might be a stretch #No it would be London and yet not even the real London like a stereotypical London that could serve as a party political for government #Hosted by Rylan and idk Paloma Faith or someone #Our interval act would be some Beatles tribute probably

[headspace-hotel]

There, in the sunlit forest on a high ridgeline, was a tree I had never seen before.

I spend a lot of time looking at trees. I know my beech, sourwood, tulip poplar, sassafras and shagbark hickory. Appalachian forests have such a diverse tree community that for those who grew up in or around the ancient mountains, forests in other places feel curiously simple and flat.

Oaks: red, white, black, bur, scarlet, post, overcup, pin, chestnut, willow, chinkapin, and likely a few others I forgot. Shellbark, shagbark and pignut hickories. Sweetgum, serviceberry, hackberry, sycamore, holly, black walnut, white walnut, persimmon, Eastern redcedar, sugar maple, red maple, silver maple, striped maple, boxelder maple, black locust, stewartia, silverbell, Kentucky yellowwood, blackgum, black cherry, cucumber magnolia, umbrella magnolia, big-leaf magnolia, white pine, scrub pine, Eastern hemlock, redbud, flowering dogwood, yellow buckeye, white ash, witch hazel, pawpaw, linden, hornbeam, and I could continue, but y'all would never get free!

And yet, this tree is different.

We gather around the tree as though surrounding the feet of a prophet. Among the couple dozen of us, only a few are much younger than forty. Even one of the younger men, who smiles approvingly and compliments my sharp eye when I identify herbs along the trail, has gray streaking his beard. One older gentleman scales the steep ridge slowly, relying on a cane for support.

The older folks talk to us young folks with enthusiasm. They brighten when we can call plants and trees by name and list their virtues and importance. "You're right! That's Smilax." "Good eye!" "Do you know what this is?—Yes, Eupatorium, that's a pollinator's paradise." "Are you planning to study botany?"

The tree we have come to see is not like the tall and pillar-like oaks that surround us. It is still young, barely the diameter of a fence post. Its bark is gray and forms broad stripes like rivulets of water down smooth rock. Its smooth leaves are long, with thin pointed teeth along their edges. Some of the group carefully examine the bark down to the ground, but the tree is healthy and flourishing, for now.

This tree is among the last of its kind.

The wood of the American Chestnut was once used to craft both cradles and coffins, and thus it was known as the "cradle-to-grave tree." The tree that would hold you in entering this world and in leaving it would also sustain your body throughout your life: each tree produced a hundred pounds of edible nuts every winter, feeding humans and all the other creatures of the mountains. In the Appalachian Mountains, massive chestnut trees formed a third of the overstory of the forest, sometimes growing larger than six feet in diameter.

They are a keystone species, and this is my first time seeing one alive in the wild.

It's a sad story. But I have to tell you so you will understand.

At the turn of the 20th century, the chestnut trees of Appalachia were fundamental to life in this ecosystem, but something sinister had taken hold, accidentally imported from Asia. Cryphonectria parasitica is a pathogenic fungus that infects chestnut trees. It co-evolved with the Chinese chestnut, and therefore the Chinese chestnut is not bothered much by the fungus.

The American chestnut, unlike its Chinese sister, had no resistance whatsoever.

They showed us slides with photos of trees infected with the chestnut blight earlier. It looks like sickly orange insulation foam oozing through the bark of the trees. It looks like that orange powder that comes in boxes of Kraft mac and cheese. It looks wrong. It means death.

The chestnut plague was one of the worst ecological disasters ever to occur in this place—which is saying something. And almost no one is alive who remembers it. By the end of the 1940's, by the time my grandparents were born, approximately three to four billion American chestnut trees were dead.

The Queen of the Forest was functionally extinct. With her, at least seven moth species dependent on her as a host plant were lost forever, and no one knows how much else. She is a keystone species, and when the keystone that holds a structure in place is removed, everything falls.

Appalachia is still falling.

Now, in some places, mostly-dead trees tried to put up new sprouts. It was only a matter of time for those lingering sprouts of life.

But life, however weak, means hope.

I learned that once in a rare while, one of the surviving sprouts got lucky enough to successfully flower and produce a chestnut. And from that seed, a new tree could be grown. People searched for the still-living sprouts and gathered what few chestnuts could be produced, and began growing and breeding the trees.

Some people tried hybridizing American and Chinese chestnuts and then crossing the hybrids to produce purer American strains that might have some resistance to the disease. They did this for decades.

And yet, it wasn't enough. The hybrid trees were stronger, but not strong enough.

Extinction is inevitable. It's natural. There have been at least five mass extinctions in Earth's history, and the sixth is coming fast. Many people accepted that the American chestnut was gone forever. There had been an intensive breeding program, summoning all the natural forces of evolution to produce a tree that could survive the plague, and it wasn't enough.

This has happened to more species than can possibly be counted or mourned. And every species is forced to accept this reality.

Except one.

We are a difficult motherfucker of a species, aren't we? If every letter of the genome's book of life spelled doom for the Queen of the Forest, then we would write a new ending ourselves. Research teams worked to extract a gene from wheat and implant it in the American chestnut, in hopes of creating an American chestnut tree that could survive.

This project led to the Darling 58, the world's first genetically modified organism to be created for the purpose of release into the wild.

The Darling 58 chestnut is not immune, the presenters warned us. It does become infected with the blight. And some trees die. But some live.

And life means hope.

In isolated areas, some surviving American Chestnut trees have been discovered, most of them still very young. The researchers hope it is possible that some of these trees may have been spared not because of pure luck, but because they carry something in their genes that slows the blight in doing its deadly work, and that possibly this small bit of innate resistance can be shaped and combined with other efforts to create a tree that can live to grow old.

This long, desperate, multi-decade quest is what has brought us here. The tree before me is one such tree: a rare survivor. In this clearing, a number of other baby chestnut trees have been planted by human hands. They are hybrids of the Darling 58 and the best of the best Chinese/American hybrids. The little trees are as prepared for the blight as we can possibly make them at this time. It is still very possible that I will watch them die. Almost certainly, I will watch this tree die, the one that shades us with her young, stately limbs.

Some of the people standing around me are in their 70's or 80's, and yet, they have no memory of a world where the Queen of the Forest was at her full majesty. The oldest remember the haunting shapes of the colossal dead trees looming as if in silent judgment.

I am shaken by this realization. They will not live to see the baby trees grow old. The people who began the effort to save the American chestnut devoted decades of their lives to these little trees, knowing all the while they likely never would see them grow tall. Knowing they would not see the work finished. Knowing they wouldn't be able to be there to finish it. Knowing they wouldn't be certain if it could be finished.

When the work began, the technology to complete it did not exist. In the first decades after the great old trees were dead, genetic engineering was a fantasy.

But those that came before me had to imagine that there was some hope of a future. Hope set the foundation. Now that little spark of hope is a fragile flame, and the torch is being passed to the next generation.

When a keystone is removed, everything suffers. What happens when a keystone is put back into place? The caretakers of the American chestnut hope that when the Queen is restored, all of Appalachia will become more resilient and able to adapt to climate change.

Not only that, but this experiment in changing the course of evolution is teaching us lessons and skills that may be able to help us save other species.

It's just one tree—but it's never just one tree. It's a bear successfully raising cubs, chestnut bread being served at a Cherokee festival, carbon being removed from the atmosphere and returned to the Earth, a wealth of nectar being produced for pollinators, scientific insights into how to save a species from a deadly pathogen, a baby cradle being shaped in the skilled hands of an Appalachian crafter. It's everything.

Despair is individual; hope is an ecosystem. Despair is a wall that shuts out everything; hope is seeing through a crack in that wall and catching a glimpse of a single tree, and devoting your life to chiseling through the wall towards that tree, even if you know you will never reach it yourself.

An old man points to a shaft of light through the darkness we are both in, toward a crack in the wall. "Do you see it too?" he says. I look, and on the other side I see a young forest full of sunlight, with limber, pole-size chestnut trees growing toward the canopy among the old oaks and hickories. The chestnut trees are in bloom with fuzzy spikes of creamy white, and bumblebees heavy with pollen move among them. I tell the man what I see, and he smiles.

"When I was your age, that crack was so narrow, all I could see was a single little sapling on the forest floor," he says. "I've been chipping away at it all my life. Maybe your generation will be the one to finally reach the other side."

Hope is a great work that takes a lifetime. It is the hardest thing we are asked to do, and the most essential.

I am trying to show you a glimpse of the other side. Do you see it too?

#american chestnut #hope #climate change #biodiversity crisis #climate crisis #trees #plantarchy #learning to imagine the future

[novalizinpeace]

Remember when you explained the hierarchy of the heretics? I really love this pyramid. It was made in such a logical way, but seeing this pyramid brought this question to my mind. Is there a hierarchy system (pyramid) of those on the Prototype's side? So, for example, creatures like Catnap and Huggy Wuggy are on the side of the Prototype, if I understand correctly. So do you have a hierarchy system for them?

(Personally, I think Catnap would be at the top of this pyramid. But I would like to hear your opinion more)

yup, i actually had it at the same time that the other one, but i was waiting for someone to ask for it.

Just so you know, all classifications and stuff like that was made by Alba, she like to keep track of everything, incluying the other side of the factory. Since she know the cult has a strongly religious view, she decided to classificate them in a ''religious'' way

1- The prototype ''Lucifer''

''Never had fully she him, but we all know his image is more that our eyes could deal with, forming himself with everything he can found, there's no limit for the creature that call himself the owner of the true. I know his intentions weren't wrong at the beginning, but now... I can't call him my saviour nor my angel, no when he has become blind with pride, just like the one that create us all''

2- First PJ ''Lilith''

''There's a reasons Play.co started to make all experiments genderless, they try to give reproductive organs to a experiments once, and the result was Lilith, a Pug-a-Pillar that only need Poppy serum to survive, but that instead of grown would produce new ''baby pjs'' that came from eggs similar to a kinder surprise. It was a success in the beginning, they thought she was the answer to the financial problem, and the possibility to sell the babies as pets was even in paper, but... she start to morph, the babies start to come out bigger, hunger, and dangerous. She was caged underground without serum in hopes to stop her transformation and the egg production, but after the Hour of Joy the prototype broke a Pipeline and create a source of food for her, making her grown to the point she's now. Yeah, we all get to eat the babies to survive, but the idea of her existence under us is even scary that the own prototype.''

3- Catnap ''Paimon''

''So loyal to his superhero, that he's unable to see all the crimes the prototype has send him to commit in his name. His claws are dirty with children blood, and that something nobody can come back, but... I think there's still someone inside him, someone that Nell also know, but i don't know is theres even a way to reach to that child, a child that is deep sleep in the red smoke''

4- Candy Cat ''Beelzebub''

''The only reason we hadn't a Pug-a-Pillar infestation in the factory, he's so big but at the same time is till able to get into place he's not supposed to be, i guess is a cat ability of sort. He eat everything, no matter what, no matter if is ally or enemy, he just eat. Somehow, he eat a full beam from the playcare construction, said beam broke his skin from his stomach, and still, he's alive. No sure what can kill this beast.''

5- Boxy Boo ''Leviathan''

''The gatekeeper of the prototype's room, he's more intelligent that it show, an actually dangerous predator, he knows how to be really quiet, to the point of make you release that you're fucked when the music box start, but luckily, he's also only like human prey, so is weird to see him attack us. Daddy was a idiot and tried to show off by dare him into a fight, he thought that would impress Mommy and make her interesed in him (she wouldn't, he was too chatty and weepy in her eyes), what a way to make Mommy a ''widow'', but Boxy was a good winner at least, just taking Daddy body and leaving us alone.''.

6-Miss Delight ''Astaroth''

''The only reason she's still alive is 'cause Catnap feel pity for her, and 'cause we found her useful, since she know where are all Play.Co documents, and is full of random information that has help us more that in one ocassion. Her mind is completly gone, but by just giving her a piece of food she become docile. Just for the note, never mention or ask for Barb, 'cause she would speak for hours about her, to the point of force you to speak with Barb and follow the ''conversation'' she affirm the pointy shit is making with you. Nell make the mistake once and was enough to never make him put a foot in the school again, and that was 6 years ago, and Delight keep saying ''where's the doggy coming back? Barb want to resume their talk with some tea'', i can't even tell him without laughing.''

7- The followers

''they're just hungry, and desesperate. The Pjs were born in the cult, and are blindly loyals, while the rest are just broke enough to don't give a fight, they just follow the prototype and hope, pray to be the next sacrifice to stop their misery, to stop the hunger''.

#i take big inspirations in ''aliens Vs predators'' for some things here #poppy playtime #smiling critters arg #ask #nova say

[stories4thepack]

The vampire bites the Physic

Wednesday Addams x vampire!reader

(Requested)

Warnings: blood, injury, stabbing (yeah!)

“No!”

You scream, the power of your words scratching the back of your throat like it were the dagger thrusted into Wednesday.

you can smell the blood before you see it

Crackstone twists the blade with a grin. You can hear the sickening tear of Wednesday’s flesh. Your want to run to her side, protect your girlfriend. Yet, the way your mouth waters at the scarlet, stained, school-shirt reveals how much of a danger you are right now.

Laurel Gates strides over to you, a silver dagger in her hand. You know she is going to kill you, plunge it into your heart while wearing that cruel, psychotic smirk.

“Stop,”

Crackstone hisses, his semi-rotten voice box doing little to aid his speech

“Let the leach finish of Goody Addams. “

The cuffs around your wrists are suddenly released, causing you to fall onto your knees. As well as smelling Wednesday’s, you feel your own blood flowing down the side of your head. A result of the beating you had suffered. You hear Wednesday slip to the floor, amazed she hadn’t yet screamed out.

“Bye Bye Wednesday.”

Laurel giggles, tailing Crackstone out of the Crypt. You crawl to the goths side, ignoring the way your chest burns with hunger. When you reach her, you lean against the pillar, exhausted by the pain from your own attack and the hunger flowing through your veins.

“Your going to be alright Wednesday.”

“Is your vampiric Vision impaired? I’m dying!”

You attempt to chuckle but the hunger that is making your vision scarlet and tightening your throat, makes the sound come out as more of a hiss. You’ve learnt to push the hunger down, and continue on with the day, but with more and more of Wednesdays blood flowing from the wound, it becomes increasingly difficult.

“I should put pressure on it, right?”

You manage to force out of your mouth, the words strangled but hopefully understandable. Wednesday doesn’t say anything.

You quickly crawl to your knees, placing your hands over the wound and pushing down hard. The goths face scrunches up in momentary pain. You smile, trying to help as much as you can

but then you look down.

Her blood flows over your fingers, decorating your skin a dark, red. You breath catches in your burning chest, your eyes fading into a dark, deep scarlet. You can not hear Wednesday speaking to you, trapped in your own hungry thoughts, before her hand wraps weakly around yours.

“I can read your face as if you were one of my murder novels, I find your intentions humorous.”

She mumbles, a tiny smile on her face, which is somehow growing paler than it usually is. You look back to the wound, your fingers have unintentionally curved slightly into it.

“Proceed Y/L/N.”

Wednesday mutters, your head snapping towards her face once more. You want to argue, to resist but the single, weak, curt nod she gives you is enough to make your shove away any form of doubt.

You carefully lean forward, your heart flutters as Wednesday lifts her head slightly, allowing you full access to her throat. You brush her messy hair away, unable to fully understand what you are doing. That is, until your lips press against her cool skin. You can feel her heart beat slowing with every second and suddenly, you know what you need to do.

You pull away, ignoring the confused look on Wednesdays face at your action. You place both hands on the Handel of the blade, forcing back your hunger as much as possible.

“This is going to hurt.”

You say, before yanking the dagger out of her body. You hear her hiss, see her eyes close and perhaps imagine a tear hiding beneath her eye lid. You bring your wrist to your mouth, tearing your fangs hastily into it before bringing it over her wound.

You allow a few drops of your blood to fall into hers before bringing your wrist up to her mouth.

“Are you going to turn me.”

You shake your head, you would need to drain her completely for that, and have a few candles and a spell book around. Wednesday manages to open her mouth slightly, enough to allow the blood from your own bite to fall into her mouth. You pull away, crouching beside her as her heart slows to a stop-

Suddenly she sits up, gasping for air. She looks at the palm of her hand before feeling her forehead, searching for the wounds your blood has now healed.

“Your a vampire, how is this possible?”

“The curse of being awesome Wednesday.”

You mutter, lying back against the pillar as Wednesday runs out, going to save Nevermore

———————————————————————

“You alright Wednesday?” You ask, watching as she paces around in her empty side of the room. Her stuff is still gone and her bed has been made with plain white sheets, nothing smells like her anymore, it feels so unfamiliar. She continues to pace…

“Wednesday, Crackstone is gone! Laurel is dead! What has gotten your pigtails in a twist?”

She pauses briefly to throw a sharp glare at you before continuing her pacing. You sigh, realising that calling her name again was useless. So you stand up, walk over to her and place both your hands firmly on her shoulders

“What are you doing Y/n?”

She demands, turning slowly with a scowl on her face. She is met with one of your cocky grins.

“Come one Wednesday! What is bothering you?”

Your voice bounces with playfulness, an attempt at calming the obviously adrenaline rushed girl. Wednesday pauses and you can see the way her jaw tightens as she decides whether to tell you the truth

“Y/n”

She finally says, looking up slightly to meet your bright eyes. There was something missing, she noticing, realising that she disliked the lack of burning, scarlet hunger. There was something about that side of you, a killer, someone who could match how dangerous she herself was, that she found incredibly beautiful

“Last night, at the Crypt-“

“If your gonna ask how I healed you, I honestly have no idea myself. Somewhere down the line I had a wizard for a great, great grandfather or something.”

Wednesday waits until you are finished, deciding the best way to ask is directly (as usual)

“Would you have bitten me.”

It sounds more like a statement but the words are enough to make you freeze. You hate the way your eyes snap to her throat, and you know for certain that she saw the short action.

“Is my blood that tempting for you?”

She asks, stepping closer, deep eyes never leaving yours. You swallow nervously, your hands feeling suddenly very sweaty.

“Yeah, you are.”

Another step, her head tilts upward for you. Instinctively, you brush her pigtail over her shoulder, finger carefully trailing her jugular. Wednesday watches as your glowing eyes darken into that scarlet and she adores the way they look into her own.

“Sorry, I should have my sunglasses o-“

She cuts you off by pressing her lips to your, the gentleness of the action surprises you but soon you are kissing back, hand grasping her throat as if it were a life line.

You pull her by her shoulder, guiding her over to her bed, making her sit down on the edge of it. You decide to sit behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“I assume you are going to bite then?”

She questions, her usually monotone voice sounder so much sweeter now. Your lips press against her cool skin, feeling the light shiver that ripples through her body at your touch. You can both hear and feel her heart beating and feel the warmth of her blood. It is all too tempting

You bite down, fangs breaking through the soft skin as if it were nothing. You feel Wednesday stiffen and lean backwards into you as you begin to drink. Her blood the most incredible you had ever tasted. Your hand grasps the other side of her head, tilting her further to the side to give you better access. No other blood would compare to this, no one’s and nothings.

When you finally tear your head from her throat, she turns around, kissing you again and no doubt tasting her blood on your lips.

You fall back against her bed, head sinking into her pillow. Your surprised, nearly shocked when Wednesday lies beside you, your hands touching each other lightly.

“We are going to do this again? Right?”

She doesn’t hesitate with her answer, and moves her head a centimetre to look into those scarlet eyes once more

“Yes, Mon Cher, we will”

#Wednesday x vampire #jenna ortega #wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #enid sinclair #fanfiction #wednesday addams #vampire #requests #Vampire Wednesday #vampire bites

[thexxxthdoctor]

Highest Honour

**WARNING - Over 18s Only**

Summary: You and the Doctor have saved a planet from destruction, earning the highest honour their culture offers. You soon learn that this more than just tea at the palace…

Short story with the 10th Doctor and female reader. Features consensual sex, vaginal sex, public sex, masturbation, oral sex, anal play, cum play, fantasy, light spanking, voyeurism.

Against all odds, in the face of deadly threats and pure terror, he had done it again. Another planet, another people saved by this man, this Doctor. Your Doctor.

He reached his hand out to you, helping you to your feet as the remnants of the invading fleet burned in the atmosphere above you. The electricity of his touch sent your mind at once back to the first time his fingers had gripped yours, pulling you away from a Dalek’s blast, saving your life and countless more before rewarding you for your help with a trip in the impossible blue box he adoringly called his TARDIS. As you stood, now, your adrenaline fuelled eyes meeting the sad, ancient depths of his own, you wanted him even more than you had that first time; his pin striped suit torn and battered, his tie askew and the sweat of his exertions cradling his thin face in perfect imperfection.

“You were brilliant today,” he told you, his voice warm and sincere, “thank you.”

Until meeting him, confidence was not something you had felt flow through you, but he had helped you see the strength inside you, and draw on it, and alongside him you had saved worlds together, facing down galactic warmongers and timeless threats. You and your Doctor. And yet, despite all you had faced, what still reduced you to putty was a compliment from this man you yearned for and who, you knew, would never even think to look twice at you, at least, not in that way.

“It was nothing,” you stuttered, your nerves overflowing, infuriatingly, your eyes pulling away from his for fear of them betraying all you felt and wanted to say to him. Instead, you stayed silent, cursing yourself for your cowardice and hoping to just get back quickly to the TARDIS, where you could retreat to the safety of your room and put the fingers now clasping his to better use, giving yourself the pleasure you wanted to feel from him. You’d lost count of the times you had watched, out of his sight, concealed by coral pillars as he stood lovingly by his Time Ship’s console, rubbing yourself to muted frenzy, jealously wishing that the touch with which he deftly operated the controls was working its magic on you instead. You felt foolish and at yourself for being envious of a machine, but deep down you too knew that the ship was far more than just a tool, and that the Doctor’s bond with it was greater than any he would ever allow himself to feel with you, or any of those that had come before you. Your feelings could only ever be fantasy, but if fantasy was all you could have, you resolved to enjoy yours to the full, as you approached the battered blue box, standing outside the entrance to the congressional chamber of Planet Carnalia. Soon, goodbye’s would be bidden and your Doctor would whisk you away to new adventures, but your mind, and fingers would spend the journey to wherever, in ecstatic reverie.

“Doctor, wait!”

The voice belonged to Torlosia, the Planet’s leader, and you both turned to face her, as she hurried to catch up with you. Dressed in flowing robes of red and gold, her turquoise skin glowing in the silver light of the twin moons above, her beauty seemed to reach inside you, demanding your attention, and you felt the tingling of a blush on your cheeks as she stood before you, smiling in gratitude.

“Doctor, we cannot thank you enough, both of you,” her glance to you deepening the redness in your face, “thanks to you, our people will live and thrive again.”

“Oh, it was nothing, Prime Minister,” the Doctor grinned, enthusiastically, “all in a day’s work! Now, we really must be getting off.”

“Where to this time?” asked Torlosia.

“Anywhere,” you answer, trying both to impress him and make sure he didn’t suggest it was time to get you home to your own time. “How about Saturn?”

“Nah, it’s boring,” the Doctor answered, “and anyway, Saturn’s not it’s real name.”

“Oh?” you quizzed, “what’s it’s real name, then?”

“Trevor.”

“Trevor?”

“Yeah…”

“The Planet Trevor?”

“Well, why’s ‘Saturn’ any better?” he said defensively before grinning at you, “I suppose we could go and ask which they prefer, if you like?”

You smiled your acquiescence and turned to bid farewell to Torlosia, only for her to step forward in earnest.

“Before you do that,” she began, “we cannot allow you to just slip away after saving so many of our lives. Not without showing you the depths of our gratitude, first.”

“Oh, really, there’s no need for all that,” protested the Doctor, “and I’m not sure my friend here would really be into all that…”

“Into what?” you ask, innocently.

Torlosia’s hand reached out to stroke your face, butterflies setting loose in your stomach at her touch. “Our very highest honour,” she answered simply. Turning back to the Doctor, she reached up to stroke his cheek, too, a glint of what looked like seduction in her eye, scattering the butterflies in you and replacing them with a pang of jealousy. “One we have afforded the Doctor and several of his other friends in times past, when their help has warranted it…”

“Other friends?” you interrupted, the familiar pang of jealousy you always felt at mention of your Doctor’s past companions, stabbing at you. “So, these ‘other friends’ have been up for this ‘highest honour’ have they, Doctor?”

You spoke the words accusingly, your eyes burrowing into his, and he shrugged, as flustered as you could ever recall seeing him.

“Well…,” he began, but the usual cacophony of words that followed didn’t come, and, for a moment, you almost thought he looked embarrassed, before Torlosia came to his rescue.

“Of course,” she answered, with a strange eagerness, “our gratitude to the Doctor always extends to the friends he relies on so much, and we insist on honouring them too. It would be our pleasure to extend those honours to you… our deep, and lasting pleasure.”

Her eyes were magnetic, her voice as sweet as honey, and in that second, you couldn’t imagine turning down any honour this beautiful woman desired to bestow on you. The Doctor though, looked nervous, as if for once in his centuries long life, words would not come to his rescue.

“It’s incredibly kind of you, Prime Minister,” he began, softly, “it’s just…”

“The Cabinet is assembled, Doctor,” she gently interrupted, “the choice, of course, is yours.”

With that, she turned and walked past the TARDIS, down the passageway, into the chamber. You looked up at the Time Lord, whose face had turned pale.

“We should go,” he whispered.

The expression he wore was one you hadn’t seen on him before, even when facing down Cyber armies and Sontaran squadrons, and you raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” you asked, the desire to follow Torlosia through the tunnel almost overwhelming you. “What harm can their ‘highest honour’ do us? A cup of tea with the planet’s rulers, a handshake for the cameras and maybe a badge and a souvenir pen, if we’re lucky. We’ll be back in the TARDIS and off to Satur…, sorry, Trevor, before you can say ‘photo opportunity’.”

He looked down at you with his big, ancient eyes, the smile you loved so much beginning to break through his nervousness.

“You really want to go through there, don’t you?”

“What? Tea with the Prime Minister?” you replied, reciprocating his smile, “who wouldn’t?”

He reached out and closed his fingers around yours, and began to slowly lead you through the tunnel through which Torlosia had vanished.

“Tea,” he mused, as you strode. “In your culture, everyone wants to go out for tea all the time. If you saved the Earth, and we’ll probably end up doing that sooner or later, you’d likely get an invitation for tea with the King, or dinner at the White House because eating and drinking together is the ultimate expression of social nicety and civilisation and sharing that with the people in charge is a huge honour. But that’s not the case everywhere in the universe…”

“No?” You asked, intrigued. “So, what are some of the other universal niceties, then?”

“Well,” he began, his vocabularic fluidity returning, “on Decahedron Twenty-Three, they have an honour’s ceremony every year, where recipients all stand on a stage and blow their noses in unison.”

“What?”

“It’s a little odd at first but you soon get used to it,” the Doctor explained, “or at least you would do, if the people of Decahedron Twenty-Three didn’t have twenty-three noses each… but even that’s better than Frectagrangion Twelve…”

“Why, what happens on Frectagrangion Twelve?”

“Let’s just say that while people on Earth like to get around a table and eat together, their social interactions are planned more around the other end of proceedings.”

“Oh, God, you don’t mean...?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, without elaborating further. “But the point I’m trying to make is that this is going to be a bit different to tea and a handshake.”

“So, what’s it going to be?” you asked, your hand gripping tightly to his as you approached an ornate alcove at the end of the tunnel and stepped through, the butterflies in your stomach unleashed anew, as you took in the sight before you.

You and the Doctor emerged into the centre of a dark, cavernous auditorium, the polished metal floor you stood on, humming with a vibrant energy and slowly rotating clockwise. Before you could open your mouth to ask where you were, a voice came from the shadows around you.

“You have chosen to join us,” the voice was Torlosia’s. “We are most gratified.”

Far above you, lights at the top of the chamber began to bleed through the darkness, revealing to you and the Doctor the full truth of your surroundings. In a circle around you, draped across grand, bejewelled chairs, were a dozen of the most beautiful people who had ever lain eyes upon in your life, six men, six women, each of them resplendent in nakedness. Torlosia, her finery discarded, stood before the largest seat, the beauty of her perfect, disrobed body demanding your attention and causing you to squeeze tighter still on the Doctor’s hand, your confusion matched only by your arousal.

“Here,” the Doctor whispered into your ear, “the primary social interaction is sex and physical intimacy.”

You gulped hard, words failing you at what you had walked so blindly into.

“She…, she wants to sleep with us?” you asked, forcing your voice through your reluctant larynx.

“Not quite,” the Doctor softly intoned. “They want us to make love. You and me. They’re here to watch. It’s the highest honour on the planet for people being rewarded to make love to an audience of the Prime Minister and Cabinet, while they, er.. they pleasure themselves.”

A gasp, small, uncertain, escaped your mouth, the situation overwhelming you. Making love… fucking the Doctor, was all you had dreamed of for so long, but to an audience? Your mind raced to pluck a sentence, any sentence from the word salad running through it but none would come, until eventually it reached to mask your shock with humour.

“For God’s sake, don’t let Boris Johnson here about this…”

“It’s ok,” the Doctor whispered, your obvious discomfort troubling him, and he stepped forward to address the naked assembly.

“Prime Minister Torlosia,” he began, “I cannot begin to express the gratitude we feel for you offering this honour, but my friend here is of a different culture…”

Once more, your friend was standing up for you, protecting you, and you wanted him all the more for it. These people wanted to honour you and likewise, you yearned to honour him with your all, and to have him reciprocate. This was no alien threat to be protected from, this was your chance for all you had desired. You stepped forward, in front of the man you adored.

“Prime Minister!” you called out. “Though I am from another culture, I was raised to respect and cherish those of others, and travelling with this man has made me appreciate that even more.”

“Are you sure?” the Doctor quizzed, “you don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to,” you answered him, turning back to the disrobed dignitaries. “I accept this honour and will play my part.”

Torlosia smiled at you with warmth and sincerity, lowering herself onto her grand chair, her hand reaching at once between her open legs, and her fingers beginning to play with her perfectly trimmed pubes.

“Then, let the honours commence,” she said. “Please disrobe and begin.”

Around you, the dozen beautiful figures began settling into position, their eyes on you and the Doctor, and their hands beginning to stroke and caress themselves in eager anticipation of what was to come. You turned back to face the Doctor, who reflected your own nervousness in his face.

“Are you really sure?” he asked again. In response, you gripped the seam of the top you wore, and pulled it over your head, dropping it to the floor as his eyes fell to the bra, cradling your breasts.

“Does that answer your question?” you grinned.

Unleashed from his self-restraint with your words, he returned your grin and began at once to pull at his clothes; the long, brown overcoat crumpling to the polished floor, followed quickly by shoes, suit jacket, trousers, tie and shirt. Slower than him, you kept your eyes on the growing bulge in his shorts as you peeled off your leggings and unhooked your bra to the stifled moans of your audience. Finally, after seconds which felt like millennia, he shed himself of the last piece of material clinging to him and stood before you, naked and yours.

Nervousness and desire were waging war within you, and you stood, hiding your breasts with your arms, and your legs closed, ashamed to go further but desperate to do so, watching your man, your Doctor, standing before you, his nakedness all you had imagined it to be. You could already feel the dampness in your knickers as his eyes feasted on you, his dick hardening in anticipation.

“Don’t be shy,” he softly said. “Show yourself to me.”

“There was an authority in his voice that belied his delicate inflections, and you knew you would obey whatever he asked you to do. Shyness still raging inside, you stood straight and dropped your arms to your sides, allowing him to take in your breasts, the stiffness in your nipples mirroring that in his rapidly thickening cock, as you waited for the command you knew would come next.

And it did.

His hand reached down, his fingers closing around his erection, slowly, gently beginning to stroke it, just as you had fantasised that he might, those nights in the TARDIS, when you dreamed of him climaxing to the thought of you, just as you were doing to him. His eyes moved to your waist, and your blush grew deeper, nervous but yearning for his orders.

“Pull them down.”

His voice was a whisper, almost as delicate in tone as it was hypnotic, and at once, you felt your hands slide up to your hips, your thumbs slipping into the waistband of your underwear as you prepared to obey. Around you, the flurry of stroking, rubbing and fingering from your audience increased and you felt your shyness begin to crumble against a sudden, unexpected, spark of confidence. These people were watching you, enjoying you, and you knew from the look in his eyes that the man who you had ached for, for so long, wanted you. This man. This Doctor. Your Doctor.

You cherished the moment, bending over as you shed yourself of the last of your modesty, relishing the gasps of pleasure from the assembled spectators as you stood straight, naked and ready for the Time Lord. His hand began to move quicker as his eyes drank you in, and you felt your own begin to twitch in response to the throbbing you felt in your freshly exposed crotch.

“Play with it,” he ordered. “Like you do in the TARDIS, when you think I don’t notice. Play with it for me.”

You felt your embarrassment return and threaten to engulf you, the mortification at the knowledge he had seen you, perhaps every time, almost overwhelming. But, the spark of confidence not only remained, it grew, and without any resistance, you moved your fingers to your wet lips, teasing yourself, and him, until your clit compelled you to oblige its call. The movement at the edge of your vision spurred you on as your audience settled deeper into the show, responding to their breaths and squeals by moving your other hand to caress and gently squeeze your breasts. But your focus remained on him, and the joy he was finding in you.

He stepped forward towards you and you kept your fingers moving as he moved closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck. Raising his hands to your face, he began to trace your features with the tips of his fingers, the yearning in your pussy deepening with each stroke of his finger. Stepping into an embrace, you felt his hand slide under yours and you let out a grateful moan as his fingers, finally, replaced yours in teasing and massaging your clitoris. You reciprocated, replacing the hand stroking his hard dick with your own, as though the thought of anyone else, even himself, touching it was enough to drive you into a jealous rage. He moaned his appreciation into your ear as you stroked it, working the shaft with your fingers and rubbing your thumb and forefinger over the head, relishing the sensation of his pre-cum, as it leaked onto them.

Repaying the favour, he increased the speed of his own fingers, slipping first one, then another between your lips and deeper, deeper inside you, the sensation building until your spasmed in pleasure, drenching his expert fingers as your body contorted against his and your moaning crescendoed, loudly around the chamber. Your other arm clasping tightly around his shoulders, he leant down, sucking and nibbling on your breasts as his fingers teased out every vestige of joy from your orgasm.

“That’s only the beginning,” he said, as he raised his head back up, and pressed his lips against yours. “Lie down.”

The metal, rotating floor was cold, but you didn’t care. Rolling his overcoat into a makeshift pillow, you allowed him to lay you down, as his mouth went greedily to work on your body. Around you, the moans of the watchers, each one of them pleasuring themselves, feverishly to you, sounded, and you leaned your head back to take them in, gripping your breasts as the Doctor worked his magic on you. Those hands, fresh from exploring your intimate sex, had reached around to lift your hips while his tongue, with the experience of centuries, worked your swollen clit into still another climax. You lifted your head, seeing the aching strain in his dick and knowing he wanted it inside you as much as you did. But it was his turn, and you wanted him somewhere else first.

“Stay on your knees,” you told him, as you wriggled from under him, and though his eyebrow raised, as if he wasn’t used to following orders, he did as you bade, shifting himself to an upright position, his knees on the floor. On all fours, you crept towards him, your arse pressed high into the air, relishing the expectation on his face. His dick was inches from your lips, its sweet scent in your nostrils and you could tell how desperately he wanted you to touch it, so for a mischievous second you let him wait. Running your tongue up and down the shaft, you savoured his groan as you finally opened your mouth wide and took him in. More gasps and moans came from the watching nobility, and from the wide grin on his face as you looked up to him, your mouth full of his cock, you knew he enjoyed the audience as much as you.

He leaned forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and as you relished his taste, you felt his hands spank down on the cheeks of your arse, gripping them in a tight squeeze before releasing them and spanking down again. Your squeal of surprised agreement was muffled in your full mouth, but you wiggled your approval, wordlessly begging for more, and he readily obliged, spreading your cheeks open to the audible appreciation of your admirers and spanking each cheek again.

“Bad girl,” he muttered, as you squealed your appreciation. “Masturbating in my TARDIS?”

You were guilty as charged and you gleefully moaned your admission.

“People who play with themselves in my TARDIS need to be taught a lesson, don’t they?” he said as your left cheek was spanked again. And again, you murmured your agreement, as another spank landed on your right cheek.

“Stay like that,” he ordered, as he pulled himself from your mouth. “Stick it up in the air, higher.”

You pressed your face closer to the ground, pushing your backside up for him, and the audience to admire, as he moved to kneel behind you, easing his still rock hard dick into your soaking wet pussy. Gently at first, then faster and harder, the Time Lord thrust himself into you, his hands reaching up to your breasts as he fucked you. The crowd moaned their approval and you knew they were nearing the edge of an intensity from which nobody could pull back, but this fuck was yours and the Doctor’s to enjoy.

He was thrusting faster, each stroke sending reams of pleasure through your whole body as you felt his hands move again; your tight arsehole clamping around the thumb he pushed into it, while the fingers of his other hand went to work once more on your clit, until you reached the apex of your pleasure once more, screaming out your gratification for the universe to hear.

“Where do you want it?” he asked, desperately, as though he needed your permission to finish. On any other day you would have been happy to feel him cum inside you and relish the sensation of his pleasure within you. But right here, right now, you wanted to taste it, to see it.

“Stand up,” you ordered, and he obeyed, sliding out of you and struggling to his feet, his hand grasping his cock for fear of losing a second of sensation. You knelt in front of him, pushing your sweat glistened breasts together.

“Right here,” you urged him, opening your mouth and inviting his stream onto your tongue.

You watched, your pussy wet and aching, as he pulled himself furiously to his climax, his eyes never leaving yours. With a cry of agonised bliss, the Doctor’s hips buckled and streams of cum flew from his dick, landing hot on your face and tongue, and you grinned in eager appreciation.

Around you both, the assembled thirteen cried out as one, an orgasmic chorus sounding out around the chamber in simultaneous honour of the display before them.

The Doctor, his breathing heavy and his legs shaking reached down to you, pulling you up to your feet before leaning forward and kissing you, his cum passing between your lips as you embraced tightly in post-coital contentment.

You didn’t know how much time passed, but you held tightly to your Doctor, not wanting the embrace to end, for fear it may not happen again. Finally, a voice called from the assembled spectators.

“Thank you both,” Torlosia said.

You turned to see her standing, unsteadily, her hand still gently playing with that perfect pussy, eking out the last throws of her pleasure.

“It was an honour,” the Doctor breathed, heavily.

“The highest,” you confirmed, happily.

“Again, you have our thanks,” Torlosia answered, with a smile. “Farewell on your journeys and go with our love.”

The Doctor gently broke your embrace and stooped down to pick up his discarded clothes, and you followed his lead before walking back down the alleyway towards the TARDIS. The intensity of your experience began to slowly subside and you felt your excitement start to give way to a curious disappointment. The Doctor, you knew, was a private, haunted man, and away from this arena and this culture, you knew you would not experience this side of him again. Could you ever go back, you wondered, to just being friends who travelled together? Your desires relegated once more to feverish but unfulfilled masturbatory fantasy?

Together, you reached the TARDIS and the still naked Doctor fished in the pockets of his crumpled clothes for the key, opening the door for you as you held your own clothes against you in sudden modesty.

“I suppose we’re off to Planet Trevor, then?” you asked, barely hiding the disappointment in your voice.

“Sounds like a plan,” the Doctor nodded, “unless…, nah.”

“Unless what?”

“Well, you know we were talking about other planets and other cultures?” he said, a mischievous glint returning to his face.

“Yeah?”

“Well, three or four hundred years ago, the people of Centuri Seven abandoned the concept of clothes. We could pop over there first, if you like? Given we’re already, erm, undressed for the occasion…”

“You grinned and nodded, stepping into the magic blue box with this man. This Doctor. Your Doctor.

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who smut #tardis #the doctor #10th doctor #david tennant #tenth doctor #doctor who fans #sexy content #watch me masturbate #doctor who imagine

[riacte]

Life Series False manifestation from HC10 False [UNSERIOUS] [clownery]

Open up the clown tents! I was going to give up after October 2023 but y’know 🤡 if you watch certain parts of HC10 False with your eyes closed you can pretend it’s the Life series 🤡🚦

I know this is 95% stretching. I know this is unserious and a pipe dream from 2021 fueled by two clips from False and half of a clip from Martyn (of all people). But whatever, we’re having fun 🎪

1) Fun little red name display? 👀

False’s HC10 E1 starts off with a quick explanation of the new Demise game. And there’s this screenie which is basically identical to what a life series player would show the audience to introduce the lives gimmick. But we all know Demise is Life series 2.0 and Life series is Demise 2.0. Still, visually, it’s a nice little touch.

2) Interactions with red name Ren

False E1 33:45. False said Ren’s red name suited his outfit and then she said about herself:

“Reckon I can get a different colour, yellow, to match my hair?”

Ren, damningly enough, said in reply:

“Sure! That would be cool!”

And then False repeated “that would be cool”.

— Which, I know, I know, means nothing. Yellow is just coincidentally a colour of a life in Life series and also the colour of False’s hair. And it would be cool. Like, hypothetically.

Ren then suggested killing False to bring her down to yellow, which is not how it works in Demise because yellow doesn’t exist, but it’s okay, his brain is stuck in Life series, we get it. And I know this means nothing, but for a second, Ren’s brain thought of False in the Life series in which it was possible to get her to yellow.

Then False, Stress, and Iskall tried to lure Wels in for Ren’s red kill and got extremely disappointed when he failed. This is not the first time False has brought Ren human sacrifices. She was also really good at it during the cursed burning box segment with Ren and Martyn.

I think this got cut from False’s ep, but there’s a bit more in Ren’s E0, 1:11:57.

False: While you’re red, you need to be using it to your full advantage.

Ren: That is true.

False: Threaten people, you could have someone else do it for you.

Ren then discussed his killing choices with her. If you close your eyes, this is basically a convo between a green name and their allied Boogeyman / red name. False is even coming up with fun red name strategies even though she’s not a red. And giving Ren advice while standing on her pillar of safety.

(There are also some nice parallels between Ren sorting resources at the hillock while being bullied by everyone + green person comes up to him // Ren doing enchanting stuff at a hill while being bullied by everyone + green person comes up to him.)

Regardless, you can tell False’s put thought into this whole death game / red name thing, and in a hypothetical situation, it “would be cool” to see her strategies / alliances go down in Life series.

3) Irrational fear of salmon Pearl

Going into full stretching territory now. In False’s E1 29:30, (white name) Pearl comes by, armourless but with a salmon head.

False: Pearl is still not wearing any armour.

Pearl: You didn’t have to call me out like that, False!

False to Stress and Iskall: Guys, don’t move, she might not have seen us

[Hermits chuckling]

Pearl: Thanks, that’s fine!

False: Don’t move. If we don’t move, she won’t attack, guys. Stay calm.

…

[Pearl runs away]

False: We stood still enough, she’s run off. We’re almost safe. Okay, we’re safe, good.

…

False: She was AFK on top of a tree, watching us, getting ready to go caving! I don’t know what was going on!

Iskall: It’s kind of scary.

False: It’s kind of freaky, yeah. I feel like I’ve made an enemy now if Pearl’s name turns red.

…

False when Pearl gets close to Iskall: She’s a dangerous being, don’t move, just don’t move Iskall, you’re fine.

And this bit about False being randomly scared of Pearl and warning others about her goes on. Which, at least to me, is strangely reminscient of everyone being scared of Double Life 5am Scarlet Pearl for no reason. Something wicked this way comes indeed.

Anyways, does any of this mean anything at all? Probably not. But it’s a fun bit of clowning 🤡 like it’s as realistic as HC Martyn.

#hermitcraft #falsesymmetry #ria.txt #long post

[silverynight]

The Sun hashira

Yoriichi has been lonely for a long time; his brother pays him a visit every now and then in the Sun estate, but it's not exactly the same.

However, one day he meets the Kamados; he helps the sick father carry charcoal from his house to the village and sell the contents of his basket. When he walks him back home, the man's wife is so grateful she invites him to have dinner with them. Yoriichi is about to refuse when a toddler with big, red eyes manages to stumble his way towards him and make grabby hands in his direction.

"Hug," the toddler says, with a kind voice.

His mother, Kie, looks embarrassed, but Yoriichi assures her it's fine and takes the little one in his arms. When the tiny redhead chuckles Yoriichi stops feeling lonely for the first time in years and he tears up a little bit.

"Tanjirou, don't!" Kie scolds him lightly when the little one grabs a bunch of Yoriichi's hair.

"No, it's fine," Yoriichi assures her again, pulling the toddler closer. "It's alright."

Then he meets baby Nezuko, and Yoriichi decides to keep coming back to the Kamados; he wants to help them as much as he can.

It's difficult to find free time to do that considering he has a lot of responsibilities as the Sun hashira, but he makes an effort.

Time passes and the two eldest start calling him Dad Yoriichi and their father just Dad, however, the Pillar tries to correct them every single time, even though it makes him feel warm and fuzzy every single time.

"It's okay," both parents assure him. "We don't mind."

Then their father dies and Yoriichi does his best to comfort all the kids, especially Tanjirou, Nezuko and a little one called Rui.

He tries to visit them more often to bring them money, even though Tanjirou assures him he's old enough to work now.

Yoriichi is very proud of him, but he's constantly trying to remind him that he doesn't have to do everything by himself, that he can ask for help.

When the new generation of hashira is complete (they're nine at the moment) Yoriichi decides that it's time for him to retire and help his family.

Ubuyashiki understands, but the slayers and some of the Pillar are confused (especially because Yoriichi never told anyone, except Ubuyashiki, about his children).

However, when he comes back, he realizes it's too late; a demon has killed the Kamados and turned Rui and Nezuko into demons.

Only Tanjirou remains; he's eighteen years old now, but he looks younger as he sobs for his family and does his best to restrain Nezuko and Rui.

Yoriichi blames himself; he should've retired long ago, that way he would've been able to protect his family from the demon.

He'll hunt the demon down later and make sure they don't hurt anyone else. But not right now, because his oldest son needs him.

He knows he should free Nezuko and Rui of their curse, that it's dangerous to keep them alive, that they could hurt an innocent person.

However, with one desperate look, Tanjirou begs him, he stares at Yoriichi like he's death himself; he can't stand it. Instead, he improvises two muzzles with bamboo and makes sure the demons have calmed down. The amazing thing is that they seem to be very protective of Tanjirou.

"It's okay," he promises and swears to himself he'll do anything to protect them. He kneels on the snow next to Tanjirou and pulls him into his arms. "I'll keep you safe."

He keeps Nezuko and Rui in a box and carries a very broken and devastated Tanjirou back to the Sun estate.

After sending a letter to Ubuyashiki explaining his situation and promising to do what's necessary if Nezuko or Rui ever hurt an innocent person, he decides that Tanjirou needs training. Yoriichi has promised himself to never keep him out of his sight from now own, but he also wants to make sure his son is capable of taking care of himself.

Everything goes mostly fine; Rui and Nezuko are very attached to Tanjirou, but it's that attachment what brings back a little bit of humanity into their hearts. They seem to be fine, as long as they have plenty of sleep; they don't remember their lives as humans, but they seem to love Tanjirou anyway.

Yoriichi starts training Tanjirou most of the days and goes back to the hashira headquarters to train the new Pillars too, at least when they need to. But they're curious; Yoriichi has noticed that they're dying to ask him about what he does when he's not training them, but he's not ready to share any information about his family at the moment.

Everything seems to be fine, except for the nights he wakes up to Tanjirou sobbing in his room and Yoriichi has to stay there with him and hug him until he falls asleep again.

He just wants to erase his son's pain, but he knows he can't. The only thing that makes Yoriichi feel a little bit better is that Tanjirou hasn't lost his kind heart nor his sweet smile.

They get used to their new life; both of them can only spend time with Rui and Nezuko at night, but they manage to be a family, an unusual one, but a family nonetheless.

Michikatsu starts paying them visits, and although he calls Yoriichi crazy when he finds out two of his children are demons, he softens immediately as soon Tanjirou explains the situation to him.

He turns into a very protective uncle in no time and Yoriichi finds himself smiling again.

At least until the current hashira decide to pay him a visit.

***

Knowing his two siblings are safe in the Sun estate makes Tanjirou feel a lot better. The loss of his family still hurts, but at least he has his Dad Yoriichi and he's willing to teach him everything he knows about being a slayer. They have talked about it a couple of times and they have decided they'll find a way to make Rui and Nezuko human again.

"Tanjirou, how are you feeling today?" Yoriichi asks, ruffling Tanjirou's hair with his fingers.

"I'm fine. I think we should start training."

However, one kakushi arrives and after them there are nine people Tanjirou has never seen before, but they all look and smell very powerful.

"Oh, hi!" He beams. "Are you the hashira?"

Yoriichi has talked about them a couple of times if he remembers correctly.

However, they don't answer right away, instead they just stare at Tanjirou for a while. He gets a little bit worried when he realizes they're not blinking.

"You have a very nice voice." The tallest comments, smiling kindly.

"Thank you! I'm Kamado Tanjirou, it's a pleasure to meet you."

They introduce themselves with a little bit too much enthusiasm as they start getting closer to Tanjirou, at some point Yoriichi starts growling.

However, before Kocho can take the redhead's hand, the wind hashira mentions something about sensing demons and rushes towards the wooden box with his katana in hand.

Seeing red for a moment, Tanjirou manages to get in the middle before Shinazugawa actually does something and headbutts him in a way that makes the Pillar collapse on the ground immediately.

Yoriichi is at his side in the blink of an eye, looking dangerously angry too; he explains the situation to them in a rush and Tanjirou wonders if that'll be enough to stop Shinazugawa or any other Pillar to try something like that again.

However, none of them look like they want to attack the box anytime soon.

Then, the wind hashira gets up and Tanjirou tenses immediately, until the hashira strokes his own forehead with a smirk on his face.

"I like you," he blurts out, looking at Tanjirou directly.

The redhead blinks in confusion that quickly turns into shock after the wind hashira apologizes to him.

There's a heavy silence in which the other Pillars stare at the feral white haired one like they can't quite believe it.

"Let's have breakfast together, my boy!" Rengoku says suddenly, taking Tanjirou's hand.

"There's a nice place in a village nearby that sells delicious food," Kanroji adds, fluttering her long eyelashes at him.

"Uhh..."

"I'd like to introduce you to my wives, if that's okay with–"

"NO." Yoriichi takes a couple of steps forward before pushing Tanjirou behind himself.

Tokito pouts as Iguro and Kocho try to explain that they'll be more than happy to take care of Tanjirou and protect him too.

Honestly, he has no idea why his Dad looks so irritated, that sounds really nice. Maybe they could help him find a cure for–

"I know what you're trying to do and let me tell you already: I don't approve of you. Tanjirou is too good for you. Now, get out!"

"Dad!" Tanjirou blurts out, surprised. "At least let them stay so I can offer them something to eat."

"It's okay, Tanjirou," Yoriichi tells him, turning around before smiling sweetly at him. "They have a lot of things to do, they CAN'T STAY."

"We do have to go, unfortunately," Himejima says then.

"But that doesn't mean we won't be back," Tomioka adds, purposely ignoring Yoriichi's murderous glare so he can smile at Tanjirou instead. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"They seem nice," Tanjirou comments after they're gone.

"They are not," Yoriichi growls. "I hate them already; I think it's time to send a message to your uncle Michikatsu, I'm sure he'll love to help me with this..."

Tanjirou is a little bit confused, but he still hopes he can see them again.

***

Next--->

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#demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #yoriichi tsugikuni #michikatsu tsugikuni #tanjiro kamado #nezuko kamado #sanemi shinazugawa #shinobu kochou #kyojuro rengoku #giyu tomioka #tengen uzui #muichiro tokito #obanai iguro #kanjori mitsuri #gyomei himejima #kyotan #giyutan

[thehighpriestess1]

August : 13

Summary : Y/n learns more about Gojo's past as she tries to fix what had been broken. A ghost from the past comes to haunt Gojo.

Pairing : Gojo x y/n

Genre : smut, angst, fluff. 18+ only!

Warning : mentions of blood, death, physical and mental abuse. Extreme smut. Curse words. MDNI!

Masterlist : Previous

Ask box

Blood..there was so much of it. It was in your hands. On your dress. On your palms. Pooled at the bottom of your feet. But who was hurt? You couldn’t see. The smoke was too thick and your eyes burnt from it. There was a fire. You knew there was one even if you couldn’t see it. Somewhere in the dense gray fog someone called for help, a familiar voice, You coughed and covered your mouth. You stumbled forward and tried to hold onto something, anything. The room was familiar. The place was familiar. The golden pillars and velvet curtains, you had seen it all before. But where? You turned around and tried to call out but your throat was filled with dense smoke. You rested your palm flat against the white wall and walked forward smearing a red streak on the wall. Someone was hurt, someone close to you, someone you wanted to save. But who? As you got out of one room and entered another, you saw him, standing in the middle of the room. A faint apologetic smile on his face. His crisp white shirt now stained with the same red that covered your hands. You struggled to breathe and stumbled forward to stand in front of him. His eyes red with smoke looked into yours begging for forgiveness. His pale skin flushed and scarred. His arctic hair that swayed everytime he walked was now matted against his head. 

“Satoru…”. You whispered, mustering up every breath in your lungs.

“Y/n..”.

Your eyes darted down to his torso where the red spread, “No..no..”. You muttered to yourself.

“I’m sorry, love”. 

“Don’t..no..you can’t”. You tried to press against the wound. “...can’t leave me..no..stay..please”.

“Next..next life..I..I’ll wait for you”. He said, softly, with all the gentleness of this cruel world. Then he closed his eyes.

Your eyes shot open and the first thing  you saw was the dark ceiling of the bedroom. For a few moments you couldn’t move. You were sweating, crying, heaving. You raised your hands in front of your face and sighed when you found them clean. It was a dream. You turned your head slowly to your left and saw Gojo sleeping with his mouth slightly open. His one arm lay lazily over you and he was clean too. It was a nightmare. It should have calmed your nerves but it didn’t. Your heartbeat picked up once again and the tears started streaming down your face. You got out of the bed gently lifting Gojo’s hand and made your way to the balcony. 

The fresh air brought some relief. But your heart felt heavy. Why would you have a dream like that about Gojo? You didn’t want him to die. You didn’t want to hurt him. You didn’t hate him. Then why? You felt guilty. Did you kill Gojo in your dream? Who did? With each passing second the details of the dream were getting blurry. You gripped the marble railing tightly and shut your eyes. Why? Why did he die in your dream? You bit your lip to not make a noise as you let the tears fall onto the railing. For the longest time you kept counting forward and backward to ten. But nothing helped. You tried to think of things around you, feel the cold marble under your palms, you tried to ground yourself into reality and shake away that omen of a nightmare. In you stressed, sad, state you realized that only he could fix it. Only he could help you come back to reality. Should I wake him up? You thought to yourself, no. What will you even say? That you killed him in your dream? Maybe you wanted him to die? No. He cannot know. 

.

.

.

“Y/n?”. 

You opened your eyes immediately as you recognized the voice. You wiped your face with your hands and took a deep breath before turning around. “Hey”. You spoke meekly, looking at your reflection in the glass behind him. Your eyes slowly went to his torso, his white night shirt was crumpled but clean. 

“What..”. Gojo couldn’t think of words. The look on your face was enough of an answer for him. 

Your heart still felt heavy and before Gojo could ask anything you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. You needed this. You needed to hold him. To remind yourself that he was here. You buried your face in his chest and took a deep breath, taking in all of him.

Gojo didn’t know for how long you had been here. All he knew was that he opened his eyes and the spot next to him  was empty and for a few brutal moments his worst nightmare seemed like a possibility. You were not really here. But fortunately the crib next to your side of the bed reminded him that you were here, just not next to him. Which seemed even worse. He got out of bed and ran to the bathroom to look for you but found it empty, then the silver silhouette of your night dress caught his eyes. 

Gojo’s one arm snaked around your waist and the other gently rubbed the back of your head. “It’s alright love. Everything is fine”.

You nodded but didn’t let go. You needed another minute or two or maybe a lifetime or two with him. Gojo frowned when your arms tightened around him. You definitely had another nightmare. But what triggered it? Did he do something? Or someone else did? Or was it simply the past haunting you? He continued to rub the back of your head and let you sob in his arms. He was going to get to whoever or whatever made you cry.

He could feel your body tremble with fright in his arms and he closed his eyes and held you with all his life. Like he was trying to absorb all of your pain and nightmares. He would rather it be him waking up in cold sweats than you. He had been here, in the same situation, he knew how it felt, how helpless and lost it felt, he hated that you had to go through it. 

Only when he felt your body relax did he loosen his hold. He looked around the lawn over your head, scanning for any potential threats, anyone who would try to take advantage of you in your vulnerable moment. He relaxed when he found no one and looked down at you, still holding him with your life. Now your skin had started to feel cold and Gojo got worried that maybe staying out for too long in this weather was not the best idea. 

“You ready to go in?”. He asked in a hushed tone.

You couldn’t speak but you nodded your head. Gojo smiled and scooped you in his arms. Under any other circumstances you would have resisted but now you snuggled against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. You didn’t say anything when Gojo kept you softly on the bed like you were made of glass. You didn’t say anything when he handed you a glass of water. You didn’t say anything when you lay under the covers. You didn’t say anything when Gojo slipped under the covers and looked at you. He didn’t demand an answer or an explanation. His question was evident from the look in his eyes, Are you okay?

You didn’t have it in you to give him false reassurance right now. “Satoru..”.

“Yes?”. Gojo intertwined his hand with yours.

Gojo chuckled, “Are you okay?”. You asked. 

“I should be the one asking that”. 

“Please..tell me. Are you happy? And healthy?”. 

Gojo hummed in contemplation. “I am the happiest I have ever been. Healthiest too”. He smiled widely.

“I am serious right now”. You warned.

“I am too. You make me the happiest person in this world. You and our son”. 

You nodded your head in response and looked down at the space between the two of you. “Just..stay safe…for me..and Keisuke”. 

Gojo frowned. “Is everything o-”

“Please! Just promise me!”. You cut him off. You looked at him, pleading. 

Gojo pulled you into him, “I promise I will stay safe for you and Keisuke”.

“Thank you”. 

Those three words that Gojo longed to hear, lay idly on your lips. So close to falling out. So close to being buried forever. But Gojo didn’t know that. All he knew was that you were scared and he was angry. Though you hid it well, the shiver in your body the moment you wrapped your arms around him told him everything he needed to know. You were scared because you didn’t feel safe. He failed to make you feel safe, he failed to give you the sense of security you needed. As you drifted to sleep once again, Gojo lay awake. Protecting you. Holding you. So that if you wake up again, he will be there. If anyone comes for you, he will be there. 

-X-

It had been two days since the nightmare. Gojo, fortunately, didn't bring it up and neither did you. But His behavior shifted just a little. Like he knew something was troubling you, like he was in on your little secret. He came home to you earlier than usual. He spent extra time with you in the morning and before going to bed. He joined you on your evening walks with Keisuke. On these walks the two of you would hold hands, look at each other with love, talk about everything under the sun, you'd roll your eyes at his jokes and he would fake gasp at your sarcastic comments. Yet there were things about him that lay buried securely under the happy exterior. He was happy, he assured you. He was  not just pretending to be a good father and a husband but he was genuinely a good one. But there was this feeling inside you that maybe you didn’t know the whole of him. He showed you the light side but you wanted more. You wanted to dive into his past and understand the root cause of his anxiety. You wanted to know what made him weak, what made him vulnerable, what made him human and not the god everyone treats him to be.

Jerry had been busy after your last conversation with him and you have been keeping an eye out for any free time you could get with him. The sensitive nature of your conversation with him demanded long hours and secluded places. Sure everyone in the house was a trusted person but not everyone knew what you needed to know. When Keisuke was asleep in the afternoon you would leave and explore the grounds of the estate on your own.  There were rooms that had been locked for years and no one had the keys. There were wings that were forbidden for everyone except Gojo. You were sure that if you'd ask Gojo he would give you a convincing excuse for which you would not have a reply. But you didn't want a convincing excuse, you wanted to know the truth.  

Then there was Hiro. You felt like you were running out of time. There was so much going on in your head. Gojo’s past, Hiro, the forbidden wings, locked door, one month time limit. You didn’t know what to prioritize. 

You were awake now, you could hear Gojo talking and Keisuke giggling, you opened your eyes slowly to see Gojo walking back and forth with Keisuke in his arms. But the scene that should have made your heart swell gave you butterflies. A whole garden of them. Gojo, who was usually in his PJs at this time of the morning was now in black track pants that hung low with his upper body bared to your sleepy eyes. You could see every muscle from his broad shoulders to this tapering back. You let out a shuddered breath when he turned around and you saw just how buffed your husband was. You wondered if this happened overnight or you didn’t notice before? But how could you not notice that you had been going to bed with this adonis of a man?

“Look! Mama’s up!”. Gojo squeaked when he saw you staring at them.

You shook away your thoughts and smiled. You tied your hair up and walked towards the two of them. Keisuke saw you and stretched his hands out to indicate that he needed a change of parent. You chuckled and took him in your arms and cuddled him. You were getting used to sleeping without him next to you but every time you held him in your arms cursed yourself for letting him sleep in a crib. He was growing and so were his chubby arms, legs and cheek. 

“Morning my munchkin!”. You peppered him with kisses. 

“Morning, love”. Gojo wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his face on your shoulder. 

You bit your lip nervously, this was the worst time for him to get all cuddly with you. Though he wasn’t at fault, your own attraction annoyed you.

“Go away”. You shrugged and walked away from him.

‘“Ouch, Why?”. Gojo asked as he ran his hand through his possibly wet hair.

You glared at him. “Because you’re annoying”.

“Why am I annoying?”. Gojo chuckled. He knew you didn’t mean it but he was having fun at your expense.

“Because…”. You bit the inside of your cheeks. How dare you look like that?! Who looks like that?! Either stop being a respectful husband or put on a damn shirt!. “.....Because you hogged all the blankets last night”.

“That’s not possible”. Gojo shrugged. “You were in my arms the entire night”.

His choice of words, the structure of his sentence, frustrated you more. You didn’t want to say anything else because you knew that he knew you too well and he would pick up on it.

“Nevermind, are we meeting the nanny today?”. You asked, untangling your locket from Keisuke’s hand.

Gojo picked up the water bottle and walked over to the bed, he sat down with a plop and took a sip. “Actually, I asked the agency to send us the profiles so we can go through it and then call the ones we like for an interview”. 

You nodded your head. “Okay. We can do that. I gotta go shower now so do you mind holding him?”.

Gojo leaned back on his palms, “I was going to go for a shower now as well. Maybe we can go together”. He smirked.

You gave him a pressed smile, “And who will look after Keisuke then?”.

“So you don’t mind us taking a shower together?”. Gojo teased you further. 

"Satoru!". 

Gojo chuckled. "I'm just saying that you didn't say no". He shrugged sarcastically.

"You're a menace!". You scoffed. Keisuke, as if he could understand your banter, started giggling. "See, even he agrees!". You added. 

Gojo got up and took Keisuke from your arms. "Fine then. You can go wash up first. I'll use that time to turn him on my side!". 

You smiled and took Keisuke back from him. "You need to go to work so you can go first". 

Keisuke looked at the two of you wide eyed. 

"I am not going to work today". Gojo added and took Keisuke back. 

"Why not?". You asked.

"I don't want to". Gojo smiled. 

"Satoru…".

"Yes?".

"Go wash up and go to work". You folded your hands over your chest.

"Why can't I spend some time with you?". 

"You can. Once you come back".

"But I don't want to go". Gojo whined. 

"Satoru". 

"What will I get if I go to work?".

"You'll get your work done". 

Gojo rolled his eyes and spun Keisuke around. "Boooorrrriiinnnggg". 

You sighed and closed your eyes. "Fine. If you go to work then I will…make…waffles for you in the evening".  Gojo had mentioned  that he misses the waffles you used to make every Sunday and though it was not a Sunday you thought it would be a good bait. 

Gojo looked at you and weighed the offer. He then looked at Keisuke who seemed to be contemplating the offer as well. "should I take it?". He asked Keisuke. Keisuke looked at you and then at him and gave Gojo a gummy smile. 

"That's a yes!". You pointed at Keisuke. "You know that's a yes!". 

Gojo groaned and handed Keisuke back to you. "You're a meanie". He said and walked past you. 

"Do you want those waffles or-".

"You're the best wife in the whole world and I love you so much!!!". Gojo yelled as he walked inside the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

You turned around in the direction Gojo had just walked on and started at the closed bathroom door. "I love you too". You whispered to yourself and Keisuke. 

-X-

You sat on the couch in the living room and flipped through the file containing profiles of all the available nannies. 

Gojo sipped his tea next to you and watched you read every single detail. He had purposely canceled his meetings for the rest of the day so he could do this with you. 

"Ummm did you get my message in the bathroom today?". Gojo asked, watching you amusingly. 

You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, "I did". You smiled and went back to reading Ms.Iwazumi's details. 

"Sooo … do you have something to say about that?". Gojo bit the inside of his cheeks. His palms were sweating and his heart was beating out of his chest. 

"Actually…. Half of the message got fogged up so all I read was 'Do you'". You smirked. 

You had read the message written on the bathroom mirror. It was sweet and had multiple small hearts around it. It was childish and humorous but it was Gojo in every way. It simply read, 

                Do you 

      want to go on a date

              with me?

Gojo scoffed. He knew what you were up to. "You did read it, didn't you?". 

"Like I said, all I read was 'do you', do I what Satoru?". You spoke without meeting his eyes. 

"Y/n..".

"Yes?".

"Look at me". Gojo said, keeping the teacup on the table. 

You turned your head towards him and raised an eyebrow promoting him to go ahead. 

Gojo smiled widely, he knew you knew. You were teasing him. Your cold hard exterior was melting. His y/n, was now seeping through the cracks of the wall. "Love, Do you want to go on a date with me?".

You pressed your lips together to hold the smile, it was funny to see a grown man, getting nervous to ask his wife on a date. "Yes. I will". You gave him a short smile and went back to the file. 

"How about him?!". You asked wide eyed and pointed to the photo of a man.

"Him?". Gojo frowned. There was no way he was going to let another man be anywhere near you. Especially anyone who is under 50!. 

"Yes! He has good credentials and references".

"He's not even that good looking". Gojo commented with a scowl. 

"Satoru, this is not a pageant selection. This is a nanny selection".

"Mmmhmm". Gojo nodded and read the profile. It was good. He could work. 

"And he is not that bad looking".

"Absolutely no!". Gojo scoffed and took the page off from the file and crumpled it only a ball and tossed it on the table. 

"Satoru!".

"He was just…not good enough. We need someone with more experience". Gojo said. 

You frowned but moved onto the next one. "Ummm okay, how about him?"..

"Another him?!". 

After arguing back and forth you had gone through the entire file and not selected a single one. Some were not experienced with toddlers, some did not have good referrals and some were just…men.  

"What do we do now?". You asked as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"We ask another agency". Gojo said flatly. 

But you had other ideas. Better idea. You turned towards Gojo and smiled. You took his hand in yours and tried to come up with the right argument to support the case. Truth be told, you didn't need any of that. Gojo was already on your side the moment you held his hand. 

"How about we ask Jerry to be Keisuke's nanny? He practically raised you, and I want him to raise Keisuke too. He has experience and he is family". 

Gojo hummed. "I mean if…he agrees then sure. That's a great idea". Gojo smiled. You smiled eye to eye and hugged Gojo. "Thanks!". 

Gojo chuckled and rubbed your back. "You're adorable". 

You realized what you had done and immediately pulled back, clearing your throat. “I..There is also ..uumm another thing”.

“What thing?”.

“I have to take Keisuke for his health check up this friday. I have already made an appointment for 10:00 AM so if you want..or if you’re free…you can..come”. 

Gojo Scoffed. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”.

“It's just his regular checkups so I didn’t want to bother you with-”.

“Bother me?!”. Gojo’s eyes widened. He pressed his lips and stood up running his hand through his hair. 

You watched him silently with your mouth hung open. He was angry. “Satoru calm down”. You got up and tried to hold his hand but Gojo was spiraling. You could see it. The  gears were turning behind his eyes and even though he stayed silent you could tell he was thinking of a thousand different things right now.

“Satoru..please calm down”.

“I thought..I thought you trusted me now”. Gojo spoke, looking not at you but a distant point on the wall behind you. “And now you are telling me that I CAN come! I am supposed to be there!”.

“Satoru..I do. This has nothing to do with..with anything. I really just thought that-”.

“That I’d be too busy to show up for my son?”. Gojo cut you off. He looked at you with an helpless look of a man who had failed and failed and failed. 

You were at a loss of words. You didn’t mean to hurt him. “No..I just..Satoru..”. You pressed your lips together and sucked in a sharp breath ”I just didn’t think much of it. I have been doing this ever since he was born so it was really just out of habit. If I didn’t trust you then why would I even ask you to come?”.

Gojo let out a sigh and nodded his head, “Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to ask me anything. You tell me. You tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it. I could have made the appointment and I could have handled everything, I can do it y/n! Just..tell me what I need to do”.

“Satoru..you already have so much on your plate. I have seen your schedule and I-”.

“Y/n!”. Gojo cut you off with a frenzied state of mind. “That is work! That can wait. Don’t even think for a second that I would ever…ever put work before my family. Even if it's something as small as going for a walk, you tell me! ”. 

"Satoru, it's not like I was hiding it from you. I told you didn't I? So why are you trying to make a huge deal out of it?". You retaliated at the same pitch Gojo spoke.

Gojo scoffed and bit his lip. "Huge deal? Y/n you never mentioned that we need to take Keisuke for regular check ups!". 

"That's because it's common sense!".

"Not.to.me! Everything, all of this is new to me! You have been his mother since the day he was born and I have hardly been a father for a month so I would need you to tell me these things".

"I did tell you. Right now! I just made an appointment that's all". 

"God y/n! You can't just make an appointment in any random hospital! Did you even look into the doctor? Did you even check the hospital's track record? Do you really want to take your son to ..to some random doctor?".

You let out a chuckle which made Gojo frown. "Satoru, it's just a regular pediatric check up". 

"Well not to me. I want to make sure that my son gets the best doctor there is! I can't just take him into a random clinic! As a mother are you not concerned about the kind of care he needs?". 

You took a step back. "Are you saying that…I don't care enough for him? That I would just take him anywhere?". 

Gojo pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "I just want what's best for him. I have missed out on so much and-".

"Whose fault is that?". You blurted out. 

A heavy silence took place where anger had been. As soon as the words left your mouth you wished you hadn't said anything at all. You didn't intend to remind Gojo of the past and you certainly didn't want to use it against him.

You could see him struggling to hold back his tears. Something as small as this triggered something big inside him and this time you had a faint idea about what it could have been. It hurt you to see him like this, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn't mean it”. You muttered and held his shaking hands. 

Gojo stayed silent.

"Satoru…I didn't mean it". 

“It’s alright”. Gojo let out a heavy breath. 

You swallowed painfully. There was nothing you could do now.You can't mend anything right now. “I’ll..I’ll go talk to Jerry”.

“Okay”. Gojo pulled his hand back and slid them into his pocket. 

“See you in the evening”. You gave a curt smile, hoping to ease the  tension.

Gojo nodded blankly and walked out first. You stood there and watched him disappear around the corner. You turned around slowly and sheepishly made your way to the bedroom. Maybe he just needed some space and time and then he’ll be..he'll be fine. Right?  

-X-

You carefully added the chocolate syrup on the waffles like a chef on a cooking show. Gojo could be here any minute and after your last conversation you wanted to make him happy. So here you were decorating each waffle to perfection. A smiley face, A cloud, and a heart. You contemplated the heart but then decided to just go for it. 

You placed each of them on a rectangular tray with whipped cream and cut strawberries on the side. You stood back from the kitchen counter and admired your work. He would like it for sure and maybe then he'll forgive you. 

You sat on the high chair on one side of the kitchen island and waited for him to walk through any minute. The clock above the entryway indicated that Gojo should be here in 3 minutes at exactly 5:00 PM. He was always so punctual. 

Jerry rocked Keisuke gently in his arms. He has agreed to babysit him happily. He loved Keisuke and he knew you needed a friend too. He had seen you try and talk to other people but no one opened up to you. He had seen this happen before and maybe this time he will be able to change the fate.

You got off from the chair and pace around the kitchen. "He will show up, right?". You asked nervously. 

You had told Jerry about your fight, he knew both of you were at fault but at least you were trying to extend a peace offering, as far as he knew Gojo, he had his doubts. "Mr.Gojo must be caught up with work. How about you have some tea till then?".

You shook your head, "I'll have it with him". You checked on the plates and adjusted them so they were in a perfect line. Anything…anything to keep you busy until he comes. Every passing second felt like an hour. 

Gojo was 5 minutes late, but that's normal, you thought. You sat in the chair and prepared a monologue about how to apologize to him. Next thing you knew it was 5:30. Gojo was not there and the waffles had turned cold. You started making another batch to serve him hot ones when he comes.

You were trying hard to control your tears, making excuses as to why he couldn't be here. Meeting? Work? Maybe he wasn't in the house and was stuck in traffic? Same smiley face, cloud and heart with chocolate syrup. 

You checked the clock, it was 5:55. Gojo was not coming. You looked at Jerry and took a deep breath. "He isn't coming, is he?".

Before Jerry could reply, a man in black suit walked into the kitchen. He turned towards Jerry instead of you and offered a curt bow, "Mr.Gojo says he won't be coming. He is busy with work. He will be here for dinner".

Jerry looked at you helplessly. He wanted to offer you words to stop the tears running down your cheeks but your sad smile told him that his words were of no use.

"Excuse me?". You called out to the man. He turned towards you and bowed curtly. 

"Yes ma'am". 

"Can you please give these to him? I can pack it right now". You said and pulled out a glass container from the shelf. You carefully placed each waffle inside along with whipped cream and strawberries. 

"Uhgh…sure…I will". He took the container from you and left with another curt bow.

"I guess I'll see him at dinner then". You shrugged and took off the apron.

You fed and put Keisuke to sleep. Jerry stayed with him in the bedroom while you waited for your husband in the dining room. You watched as the chefs put dishes on the table. You took a sip from your glass and bit your lip nervously. Deep down you doubted that he would show up. But you're wishful thinking got the best of you. You were upset that he didn't send back any message about the waffles. Did he like them? Did he even eat them? How can someone be so busy? You let out a frustrated sigh. 

He was 30 minutes late. You knew he wasn't coming but you also didn't have it in you to leave. You wanted him to come. You were begging him to come. To just show up, have a meal with you and then get as mad as he wanted. "Please.." you whispered to yourself as you folded your hands in a silent prayer. An hour passed as you sat silently. You looked up and looked at the chefs, waiting for your order. 

"Can you please check with Mr.Gojo to see when he will be coming". You asked a guard. He nodded and immediately pressed a button on his walkie talkie. 

He entered the room a few minutes later and the apologetic look on his face gave you your answer. "Mr.Gojo has already had dinner in his office". 

You nodded your head and got up. "You can leave for the day. Thank you". You smiled at the kitchen staff and walked out. 

You took deep breaths on your way to the bedroom to control the flood of emotions. You thought you masked it well but as soon as you entered the bedroom and saw Jerry you broke down. 

Jerry was on your side in a second, helping you stand up and walk you to the bed. He handed you a glass of water and a towel. 

"He didn't come, Jerry. I waited …but…". You hiccuped. "..I didn't mean to hurt him. I swear I didn't. I…don't know what to do". You sobbed.

"It's alright. I know you didn't mean to. It's going to be fine".

You nodded and wiped the tears off of your face. 

"Did you have dinner?". Jerry asked.

You shook your head.

“I’ll get something for you”. 

"I've lost my appetite. I'd like to sleep now. I don't feel good". 

Jerry sighed and nodded. He helped you get in bed and took his leave. Even when he closed the door behind him he could hear faint sobs and hiccups.

He should have gone to his quarters and retired for the day but the look on your face haunted him. You made a mistake but who doesn't? So here he was walking into Gojo's office, determined to stop the past from repeating itself.

Gojo looked up from behind his laptop and smiled, "Hello, Jerry".

"Hello Mr.Gojo".

"How may I help you?". Gojo asked, shutting his laptop off.

"May I ask you something, sir?". Jerry asked in his polite manner with his hands behind his back.

"Sure". Gojo leaned back in his leather chair.

"Do you love Ms.Y/n?".

Gojo stared at Jerry for a few moments. "I do. You know I do".

"Did you promise her that you'd see her in the evening?". 

Gojo sighed and looked down. "I did..but we had a..fight".

"Did you give her your word that you'd show up for dinner?".

Gojo looked up, "it's not that simple Jerry. Her words hurt me. I have done everything I could but it's not enough for her. I can't erase the past for her. I would if I could but I can't".

"What did she do that upset you in the first place?". Jerry asked. 

"She booked an appointment with a doctor for Keisuke's check-up without asking me first".

"Why should she have to ask you? Is she not his mother?".

"She is! But I can have the best doctor for him".

"Which doctor would you have booked Mr.Gojo". Jerry's calm tone sent a shiver down Gojo's spine.

"Mrs.Iwazumi at Tokyo met hospital. She is the best pediatrician in the country".

Jerry smiled. "Do you know Mr.Gojo that Ms.y/n had booked the same doctor. In fact she had made an appointment the day the three of you left for Tokyo".

Gojo's mouth opened and then closed. "No. I…I didn't know that".

"Did you ask her about it?".

"I didn't. Okay? That was my fault but she-".

"Mr.Gojo you do realize that you implied that she is a bad parent? The one that cannot take care of their child. When you know very well the sacrifices that she had made to protect master Keisuke".

"I didn't mean to. I.. I really didn't mean to". 

"Neither you nor I could ever be mother's so it is not up to us to decide who is a good mother.  She left her village to be here with you and Keisuke, do you really think she would have done that had she been a bad mother? Do you think it's easy to uproot your life and move away from friends and family all for the sake of your child?".

Gojo swallowed painfully. He could see where he was wrong now. While you had pointed out the truth, Gojo had accused you of being a bad parent. He undermined your capability to take care of Keisuke. 

"Today she spent hours making the perfect waffles for you to make up for her wrongs. Do you think she would have done that had she not loved you?".

Gojo looked up with wide eyes. He didn't know what to say.

Jerry continued, "I watched her count each minute waiting for you, making and remaking waffles".

"I needed some time". Gojo spoke in his defense.

Jerry smiled, "Did that help you Mr.Gojo? Or did that only push you two apart?".

Gojo stayed silent. He knew the answer.

"Did you have your dinner Mr.Gojo?". Jerry continued.

Gojo nodded. "I did".

"Ms.Y/n waited for over an hour for you in the dining room".

"Jerry I-"

"And then she cried herself to sleep. So I really hope you enjoyed your dinner Mr.Gojo. I may not be an expert on marriages but let me tell you this, she did not deserve to cry herself to sleep".

Gojo's stomach dropped. He couldn't imagine putting you through something like that. "Jerry, I swear I had no idea that she was waiting. I didn't think she would".

"You underestimate her. She is a good woman. Now if you'll excuse me, it's way past my shift time. Goodnight Mr.Gojo".

Jerry bowed and left Gojo's office. 

Gojo sat silently, replaying the conversation in his head. He had no idea it would escalate this much. He thought about the waffles that his guard brought in, the call on walkie talkie asking about him, he should have known then. He was so blinded by his anger that he couldn't see the signs. "Fuck". Gojo muttered and ran out of his office. 

He prayed for you to still be up, reading, standing on the balcony, anything, he wanted to talk to you, beg for your forgiveness, grovel at your feet. He would do it all and then do it again a thousand times. 

He barged in through the door and walked inside the bedroom. You seemed asleep. There was silence. Keisuke was asleep too. He walked over to the bed and saw you sleeping in the dress you had worn that day. He could see your tear stained cheeks and red nose. He didn't know what to do. Should he wake you up? Or let you sleep? 

He slid inside the duvet removing his shoes and socks. He didn't want to waste another second. He caressed your cheeks and could feel the stickiness on them. 

"I'm sorry", he whispered, but it was too late now. He was scared to hold you, to invade the space you had created for yourself, a space that he had lost access to. 

He lay wide awake, replaying the whole day. He pictured you waiting for him and it broke his heart. He replayed the conversation in his head and winced at his own words. He wished he could take back everything he had said. It really wasn't a big deal. He should have asked you before blowing things out of proportion. He didn't know what to do. When it came to you and making up for his mistakes he was clueless.

Gojo got off the bed and walked into the kitchen. He had sent back the waffles in anger and now they were laying in a corner in the same container you had packed them in. He opened them and smiled when he saw the faded smiley face, cloud and the heart. They were cold and soggy, the strawberries had started to darken but Gojo brought the container to the kitchen island and ate the soggy waffles. They didn't taste how they were supposed to and he had to chew with all his effort but he finished every last one of them with tears in his eyes. He sniffled, thinking how he lost out on a happy memory with you all because of his anger. He didn't even deserve these soggy waffles, he didn't deserve anything. He was a terrible husband. What kind of a husband lets his wife cry herself to sleep? What kind of husband puts his wife through so much pain? He didn't deserve to be called your husband. He didn't deserve you. He felt pathetic and small. But regardless he ate all off the waffles and cleaned the container afterward. 

When he walked back in, he saw that you had faced the other way but you were still asleep. He sighed and slipped in next to you. Keeping his distance.

Your eyes opened when you felt the mattress sink behind you. You had woken up a while ago and when you didn't see Gojo next to you you turned the other way. Was he returning now? This late? You were still hurt and as much as you wanted to turn to him and talk to him about what happened you weren't sure if he wanted the same thing. What if he was still mad at you, nothing you could say would make any difference because it was clear to you now that you were here only because of Keisuke. Gojo loved you as the mother of his child. 

You felt his arm drape over your waist and it triggered something, if he wasn't going to love you for who you are then he had no right to love you at all.

You kept your hand on top of his and yanked his hand away.  You got off the bed and made your way towards the wardrobe to change. 

"Y/n". Gjojo got up, surprised. You were awake. He followed you in quietly but once both of you were inside he grabbed your wrist and turned you around. The movement had you bumping against his chest. "Please..i just want to talk". 

You tried to break free but his grip remained firm. "There is nothing to talk about. Let me go!". You spoke In hushed tone. Worried that you might wake up Keisuke.

"Y/n, Please. Give me a chance to explain".

“Let me go Satoru!”.

“Please  just hear me out once and then you can be mad at me but please please just hear me out”

You stopped struggling and let out a quivering breath. Your heart was aching and it was getting unbearable. "What do you have to say?".

Gojo was surprised at your agreement. But he took what he got. "I'm sorry. I was angry and I took it out in a very bad way. I am really sorry for everything that happened today. I didn't mean to call you a bad parent and I didn't mean to treat you this way".

"Okay". You replied with a sad smile. You could feel the hurt spreading from your chest to your arms to your stomach. It was everywhere. You didn't want to fight. You just wanted this day to be over. You had lost the battle already. 

"What?". Gojo frowned. No it cannot be right, he thought to himself. 

“Okay, fine you didn't mean to treat me this way. Got it.”.

Gojo opened his mouth then closed it. You didn’t believe him, he thought. You were only saying this to get him off. “You don't believe me?”. He asked.

"I..". You took a deep breath. "..said it's alright". You tried to pull away again but Gojo didn't let you go.

"No. What do you mean it's alright? Aren't you mad at me? Get angry at me. Yell at me". Gojo struggled to keep his voice low. 

"Why?..why..". You stuttered. ".. should I? You…you you don't owe me anything". You looked up at him and gave him a sad smile. 

 "No. That's not why I'm doing this. Y/n, I am really sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I swear I didn't". Gojo owed you everything, he owed you his life, he owed you every happy moment he has ever had. He owed it all to you.

"I said it's fine". 

Gojo shook his head. "It's not. I don't know why you're saying it is but it's not".  

"What do you want me to say? Satoru I know what I said wasn't right but I tried to make it up to you. I … I waited for you. If you didn't want to see me..if you..needed space then you could have just told me. I…You say one thing and then you do another..I..I don’t know what to feel anymore. I feel empty..stupid and..just..hollow..I don’t mean anything". You looked down and could feel the tears rolling over to the edge of your jaw and then only the carpet below.

Gojo placed his index finger under your chin and tilted up your face. He could see the damage he had done. This wasn't the first time you had waited for him and he had failed to show up to only show up when it was too late. He could see it written clearly in your eyes that you were thinking about that time and he knew you wouldn't bring that up. You didn't have to. He knew. He had no words. He had no explanation. He could see that you were really not mad at him but you were hurt. No words could fix it. You were right, you had no reason to trust him. Your words brought out a buried memory and an icy chill ran down his spine. 

“I..I’m not a bad mother Satoru. I care for Keisuke. He…he is the reason I live. I'd do anything…anything for him. I'd go through all the bad days for him so I don’t care how you treat me anymore, Kiesuke love..loves you so long as you’re a good father to him..I have..I have no-”.

Gojo's face turned pale, like he had seen a ghost or maybe reminded of onel. No no no no, Gojo thought to himself, this can’t be happening, there was now ay this was happening, the same words, the same look on your face, he had turned into the monster he hated the most. His head was spinning, he was not going to let history repeat itself . He had no words, no excuses,so he leaned down and pressed his lips onto yours.

Your initial reaction was withdrawal but when he pulled you closer and molded his lips to yours, you caved in. Your hands that were resting against his chest now we're wrapped around his neck. 

His one hand wrapped around your waist and the other tangled in your hair. He couldn't believe he was doing this. He had expected you to push him away but as soon as your arms wrapped around his neck he was alive again. This was not a dream, this was not a hallucination, this was real. The warmth of your mouth and the softness of your lips were all real. The curve of your waist and the suppleness of your breast pressing against him was all real. He needed you, he needed your every breath. He wanted it.

Your lips moved in perfect rhythm. Gojo bit your bottom lip asking for more and you gave it to him. You moaned into each other’s mouth and clung to each other with absolute desperation. You fisted his shirt and he tangled his hands in your hair. Your noses bumped against each other and his one hand pressed your lower back to push you into him. You could feel the warmth of his hand and how big it was. You felt like a delicate bird in the hands of a gentle giant. Both of you were a moaning, panting mess. Each breath was exchanged and each whimper met its match.Both of you were tired, tired of fighting, tired of arguing, tired of proving yourselves. This…this was a passionate outlet, a means to communicate what words couldn't and heart longed for. Gojo nibbled and sucked on your lips, the kiss was sweet and salty. It tasted of want and anger. Your teeth clashed and tongues collided. The two of you were fighting and when your hands tugged his hair Gojo knew he had lost but God did it feel good to lose. 

When you broke the kiss both of you were heaving for air.Hair mess, body sweaty, but neither of you let go. You held onto each other. "I'm sorry..Y/n..love I..I’m so sorry..please..please. It's not just about Keisuke. I know I fucked up but please just know that I need you. I need you to be here, to be here with me". Gojo muttered against your lips, eyes half lidded, breath heavy with desperation and lack of air. He pressed his forehead to yours and his tears mixed with yours and rolled down your chin. “..I can’t live.. without you..so curse me out as much as you want but don’t think for a second that you mean nothing”.

You realized what had just happened. "I..let me go". You whispered and tried to walk away but Gojo didn't let you. He held onto you with his life. He was not going to let you believe that this was nothing. This was everything for him. 

"No no no no. Don't say that. Please..please.. don't say that".

You sucked in a sharp breath. "Satoru…It’s alright". You put your palm flatly against his chest and your eyes widened at the rapid beating of his heart. Sure your heartbeat had picked up too but you were sure Gojo was either having a panic attack or was on the verge of having one. His hands that cupped your face trembled and when you put your hand over his, he let out a shuddered breath, worried that you were pushing him away, but you didn’t. You held his hands firmly in yours. 

“Satoru..are you alright?”.

Gojo remained silent for a few seconds taking in deep breaths to compose himself. “I love you. You are my whole life y/n. Not just a part of it”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, "We're fine. It was just a bad day". You tried to calm his nerves. To another person Gojo would just seem Gojo, but you could feel his pulse, his ragged breath, how his lips quivered as he tried to maintain his composure. A part of you wanted to tell him to let it all out. To cry as much as he wanted because you were there to hold him but you knew he wasn't ready yet. You gave his hand a light squeeze and tiptoed to kiss his cheeks. "we are more than fine Satoru".  

Gojo chuckled and sniffled and then pulled you into him."I love you y/n..I do..I really fucking do. I promise this won't happen again". 

You pulled back with your arms still around him and stared at him for a few seconds and then gave him a short smile. You wanted to tell him you loved him but the words just won't fall out of your lips. “Okay”.

“No more bad days”, he smiled sadly and caressed your cheeks with his thumb. “Why don’t you go wash up and I’ll see you outside”. He gave you another short kiss on the lips and walked out smiling. He was happy that he could kiss you now. Whether it meant kissing in the storm or kissing in the comfort of his home, he would take all of the kisses. 

-X-

"Hey Jerry, can I ask you something?". You asked as you watched Jerry put Keisuke in a stroller after getting him ready for your walks. 

"Anything ma'am". He smiled. 

"Why is the left wing of the house closed? I tried going in but the guard told me that no one is allowed to go there except Satoru".

Jerry took a deep breath. "Ms.Y/n…". Jerry paused searching for words.

"Please Jerry. I can't ask Satoru and I…I might have triggered something in him a few days ago..I mean I think I did…I don't know..". 

Jerry frowned but silently pushed the stroller and walked next to you. "Ms.Y/n I am sure that whatever it was Mr.Gojo would never blame you for it".

"I know I just..I want to know about his life. He hardly tells me anything and sometimes I feel he is comparing himself…or the situation with something or someone. Like all of this is a bad Deja Vu for him. I don't know how to explain it".

But Jerry knew what you were talking about. He contemplated for a minute. How much did he have the right to tell you? You were right, Gojo would never bring up any of this. He looked at you, you were worried about him. 

"Ms.y/n. Mr.Gojo's life has not been a cakewalk. If I may speak freely, this is the happiest I have seen him since the day he was born".

You frowned."Why? What happened? Please Jerry. I need to know". You pleaded.

Jerry sighed. "Mr.Gojo had a tough life. He was not born as a son but as an heir to the Gojo group. The family initially inhabited the left wing of the estate where Mr.Gojo spent most of time with his mother. He was really close to her but deep inside evidently he wanted his father. He would wait for hours outside his father's office with his toys and would throw a fit when he was picked up by the guards and taken to his room. He was treated unkindly by his father and every time his mother stepped in between she suffered the same consequences".

“What do you mean unkindly?”.

Jerry sighed, “His father was an aggressive person and anyone who came in his way suffered his wrath both mentally and..physically”.

“Jerry…that..cruel. That’s abuse!”.

“It is Ms.Y/n. But our hands were tied”

"What happened to his mother? He never talks about her". You asked as you came to a halt near the gazebo.

Jerry kept the stroller to the side and sat opposite to you. "When Mr.Gojo was 9 his mother came to be with a child. It was surprising to all of us but Mr.Gojo was happy that he would have a sibling to play with. His mother suffered greatly during her second pregnancy. She couldn't  bear to bring another child into this life. So she left".

"Left?".

"Yes ma'am”.

“You mean, she ran away?”. 

“Yes ma’am. She did not want her child to be a part of this world. But his father saw this as an act of defiance and his guard brought her back after a week. Mr.Gojo saw it all. The way his mother was dragged to the office and how she pleaded with his father to treat her kids fairly and kindly regardless of how he treated her. I tried so hard ..to take Me.Gojo away but he didn't move. Sadly she passed away during childbirth. Mr.Gojo was there at the hospital, excitedly waiting for his sibling. He even carried his favorite toys to share. But neither of them survived".

Your stomach dropped. Suddenly everything made sense. His paranoia, his fears. Gojo never brought up any of this and always gave a pretense of having everything he wanted. You could imagine him being a 9 year old waiting outside the room with his favorite toys and getting the news. It broke your heart into a million pieces. You realized the weight of your words and felt small. Maybe you didn't have the most financially secured childhood but you had a happy family. You parents loved you and loved each other. You knew what love looked like. You were never forced to marry someone. You were never physically or mentally abused. Your parents tucked you in at night and helped you with school work.

You let out a sigh and rubbed your forehead. "How can….how can a father let his child go through so much?". 

"Not everyone is fortunate to have good parents Ms. y/n".

You swallowed harshly. The part about your pregnancy that you so carefully hid to save yourself from looking weak now seemed like a threat to Gojo's sanity. It was history repeating itself and to think Gojo was witnessing it all for the second time made bile rise in your throat.

"If I may ask Jerry….how did his mother..I mean what happened?". You asked hesitantly.

"Hemorrhage. They couldn't resuscitate her after the bleeding stopped". 

Your heart skipped a beat and color drained from your face. You were frozen. You blinked slowly as the world seemed to halt around you.

"Ma'am? Are you Okay?". Jerry asked with a hint of panic in his voice. He was about to call the guards but you stopped him.

"No. I'm.. I'm fine". You reassured him and gulped down the glass of water. Jerry sat down hesitantly and re-filled your glass of water. "Did his father…mend things after?".

"No ma'am. He didn't. When he passed away Mr.Gojo permanently closed off the left wing of the estate. Everything was bought new and this wing was set up for him". 

You nodded and gave a curt smile. "That makes sense"

"Ms. Y/N, I have been with Mr.Gojo for most of his life. He can be difficult to be with but he is a good man". Jerry gave a fond smile.

You saw Jerry's smile and felt relieved knowing that Gojo had someone like him. 

You let Jerry leave for the day and carried Keisuke in your arms back to the room. Everything that Jerry told you lay heavily in your mind. You wished you could undo the past for someone. You wished you had someone to get angry at. Someone to yell at. But you didn't. 

Gojo was sitting on the bed scrolling through his phone when you walked in. He smiled fondly at you as he kept his phone away. But now you could see the wounded child behind the kind smile. You could see the tiredness on his face and how well he tried to hide it. 

You walked over to him and Keisuke immediately extended his grabby hands to indicate that he wanted his father. Gojo cooed and took Keisuke from you and peppered kisses over him making the little one giggle. You sat down next to him on the bed and rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped one arm around his bicep. You weren't pitying him, you just wanted to be close to him. 

"Everything okay?". Gojo asked, raising a suspicious brow.

"Mmmhmmm". You replied with a smile. 

Gojo leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead. 

"Satoru…". You kept your chin on your shoulder and looked at him. 

Gojo turned his head towards you. "Yes my love?". 

You smiled. "Do you want to bathe him today?". 

Gojo's eyes lit up. "Absolutely I do!". He tickled Keisuke "Guess who's having bath time with daddy today!!". Keisuke bursted into a fit of giggles. 

"Go ahead, I'll bring his clothes in". 

Minutes later you walked in the bathroom to see Gojo in the bathtub with Keisuke leaning on his chest. Gojo wiped his back with the sponge and you can tell both of them were enjoying it. Suds covered part of Gojo's naked torso and your breath hitched every time his bicep flexed. 

Gojo saw you standing at the door and smiled. "I decided to join in".

You walked over to them and kneeled near the tub. "I can see that". 

Keisuke turned his head towards you and gave you a gummy smile when you rubbed his back. "You having fun, baby?". For some reason known only to him he started sighed happily. Gojo followed suit and you watched two of them. Gojo dipped Keisuke's feet in the water and he kicked the surface , splashing water on you and Gojo. 

You closed your eyes and winced back. "Such a menace!". You said as you wiped off water from your face.

Gojo looked at you with a smile but it faltered when he saw the trail of water drop starting from the side of your face and rolling to your jaw and down the neck and stopping right at your cleavage. His heart raced and he gulped harshly. You had changed into a baby blue silk nightdress and the water made it stick to your skin leaving little for Gojo's imagination. His skin felt hot and his breath ragged. He sucked in a sharp breath as you tilted your head back exposing your neck and patted around your neck and breasts with a towel. He tried to divert his thoughts but with each splash of water it got harder for him to concentrate on anything else. All he wanted to do right now was put Keisuke to sleep and devour you with all his life.

"There's two of you". You said. 

"What?". Gojo asked, snapping out of his thoughts and looking at you.

Your gaze drifted from his face to Keisuke's.

"There's two of you. You two look …exactly the same". It was true. Both of them looked the same. Same wet white strands plastered against the forehead. Same cerulean eyes that widened every time you spoke. Same arched lips that pouted when you scolded them. 

Keisuke's eyes widened as if he was shocked at the relevation. Gojo hummed, picked him up and brought him to his face. "My baby looks like me. Are you going to my daddy's baby or mommy's?". Gojo asked. 

"He is always going to be my baby!". You pulled his cheeks gently. 

"We'll see about that when he is a year old".

You widened your eyes and turned your head towards Gojo. "You want to bet on it?". You asked, biting your lower lip.

"Absolutely I do".

"What are we betting then?". You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gojo hummed and then smirked. "How about….another kid?". 

You opened your mouth to say something but your words died down. 

"If he turns out to be a daddy's kid then we have another baby". Gojo continued and kissed Keisuke's cheeks.

You bit your lip. "Fine. But if he turns out to be a mommy's baby then…no more kids". You chuckled. 

Gojo fake gasped and looked at Keisuke, "Did you hear what she said? No siblings for you!".

Keisuke looked at him wide-eyed and then at you. 

You giggled at them "sometimes I think that he can understand exactly what we're talking about".

"I know!". Gojo agreed. "Our baby's a genius! Daddy’s baby is a genius and a menace just like daddy".

-X-

The timing could not have been more off. You chewed on your bottom lip as you saw the near empty suitcase. All your outdoor clothes were in the laundry. But that wasn't the cause of your concern. You had to leave for Keisuke's appointment in 30 minutes. "Fuck". You muttered under your breath and rummaged through what little clothes you had. How could it happen? How can all your clothes be in the laundry at the same time? You had one pair of jeans and PJs. Sure you were surrounded by clothes from every high fashion designer in the world but your mind was fixated on your stupidity.

"Y/n you okay?". Gojo came out from his side of the wardrobe and leaned sideways on the wooden shelf containing dresses with his hands in his pocket. He was dressed already in navy blue trousers and white Ralph Lauren Polo t-shirt. His hair was in perfect shape, as if it's ever out of shape, and he has his signature Patek Philippe watch on. 

You turned around and felt embarrassed at your situation. Sure if it was just you, you would have put on one of the old t-shirts and your jeans but you cannot do that now and walk next to someone who was dressed like THAT. "I…".

Gojo straightened up and walked towards you with his hands still in his pockets. "Everything alright?". He asked. He knew why you were flustered after all he had planned it.

"I don't know how but all my clothes are in the laundry". 

Gojo looked at you with his mouth slightly open. You were actually concerned about that. "Y/n, look around". He suggested.

You looked around hoping to find one of your shirts or tops and it took you five seconds to understand what he meant. "Oh".

Gojo chuckled. "Just pick anything. It's all yours". He meant it. It was yours. He bought it for you. 

"I…I can't". You muttered.

"It's all yours y/n. Whether you accept it or not, no one else is going to ever wear any of this". He gestured to the rows of clothing with an open palm.

You considered his offer. On one hand you were desperate but on the other you had another problem, "I understand but.. I'm not sure if I'll fit into it. My body is not the same as it…was". You admitted begrudgingly.

Gojo frowned. "Why don't you try something on and then we can decide". 

You swallowed and checked your watch. You had less than 20 minutes to get ready. You took a deep breath and accepted your fate. "Fine but I don't know what to wear". 

Gojo smiled and intertwined your fingers. He led you to a rack full of dresses. "How about we start here?". He said and pulled out a sleeveless cream coloured tweed dress with blue and red belt and matching bow around the neckline. You weren't a fashion expert and certainly did not have time to think about the price tag. You took the dress by the hangar and nodded your head. 

"Okay I'll try it on and I'll call you". 

Gojo sighed and turned around. "I swear I won't peek".

You shook your head and turned the other way. Even his presence made you conscious about your body. You quickly slipped into the dress and then it dawned. The zipper was at the back and hidden under the seams and you couldn't reach for it. You huffed and contorted your hand to get a good grip but failed.

"Satoru…".

"Yes?". Gojo asked, still turned away from you.

"Need help". You groaned. 

Gojo turned around and saw you struggling with the zipper. He chuckled and stepped closer. "I've got it". He said and looked down. His breath hitched when his knuckle came in contact with your skin. He pulled the zipper up slowly and silently. "Done". 

You let out a heavy breath and turned around, "Do I look okay?". You asked. 

Gojo stared at you dumbfounded. Okay? You looked beautiful. "You are the most beautiful woman in this world. How did I get so lucky?". He said in all seriousness.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. "Let's go, we'll get late"

But Gojo wasn't done yet. He pulled out a matching coat to protect you from the cold outside and pulled out a pair of matching heels along with it.

"Satoru…I don't have time to doll up".

"Just the coat and heels and we're done" he said and handed you the items. You sighed and quickly on the coat. 

"Let me". Gojo said and kneeled down with your heels in his hand. 

You looked down and bit your lip as you slid your one foot in the heels and watched Gojo strap it in. He did the same with the other one and stood up with a satisfied smile.

"Shall we?". He asked. 

You shook your head and nodded. "Yes. Done. Let's go".

Keisuke was strapped in between you and Gojo and had Mr.Carrot next to him. You looked outside at the city and smiled thinking about the time when you were just like people outside. Rushing to get from one place to another. A part of you missed that life. It also reminded you of Hiro. You might have settled in your life with Gojo but there was hardly a day when you didn't think about confronting Gojo about him. 

Gojo had said that he had nothing to do with Hiro's death and though you didn't believe him completely there was nothing you could do. You looked at Keisuke and then at Gojo. They were a set and suddenly you felt like a third person. You wondered if there would ever be a time when you would let yourself be a part of Gojo's family as y/n and not as Keisuke's mother. But that bridge can only be crossed once you find out who killed Hiro.

"You okay?". Gojo asked, reaching for your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

"Yeah". 

"You were thinking about something" Gojo added. 

You winced at how easily he could read you. "Just reminiscing".

"About?".

You took a deep breath, "The time when I used to live in the city".

Gojo nodded his head. Were you thinking about Hiro? Why were you thinking about the time when he was not in your life and someone else was? Did you miss Hiro? He bit the inside of his cheek harshly. 

The car came to a halt in front of the Hospital entrance and Gojo picked up Keisuke before you could. He held your hand with his other free hand. "If you want to move into the city then we can. I'll need  a couple of weeks to arrange everything". He said as he led you in. Four guards clad in black walked behind you and it only made you more conscious of your presence.    

"I mean it y/n". Gojo said sincerely as you stepped in the elevator leading you to the pediatric department.

"It's alright Satoru. I'm happy where we are". 

"You sure?". He asked.

"Yes". 

Gojo smiled and brought your hand up and packed a chaste kiss on your knuckles. 

You stepped outside and made your way towards the doctor's cabin. 

"Y/n?". A voice called out.

You and Gojo turned around at the same time.

"Hoshi?!". You dropped Gojo's hand and jogged to hug your old friend. 

Gojo frowned as he saw you wrap your arms around his neck and the way this unknown man in white coat wrapped his arms around your waist. 

"Oh my god! You're here!". You said.

"Yes. I moved to Tokyo a week ago. How are you? And what are you doing here?". He asked, still holding your hands.

"I'm here for Keisuke's monthly check ups and-". Before you could finish Gojo stood next to you towering over the man. "Hi, I'm y/n's husband". Gojo said, smiling sweetly.

Hoshi looked at you and then at the tall man holding Keisuke.

"Hi, I'm Hoshi, y/n's friend". 

You could sense the tension and chuckled nervously. "Hoshi was my neighbor back in the village and also one of the best doctors".

"You flatter me mia". Hoshi said, scrunching his nose. Gojo winced at the nickname. He didn't know you were close enough to have a nickname for each other.

"Please! You were the one who took me to hospital in the middle of the night! I can never thank you enough Hoshi". 

Hoshi smiled and went to caress Keisuke's cheeks but Gojo moved his shoulder away, "He's sleeping". Gojo warned. Hosi laughed nervously and turned towards you.

Gojo frowned and looked between you two. So he was there for the entirety of your pregnancy? If he was the one who took you to the hospital then does that mean that  he was there when Keisuke was born.

Hoshi shook his head. "Are you regular for your check-ups mia?"

You opened your mouth to say something but Hoshi read your face. 

"Knew it. You're so careless with your health. I'll make an appointment for you next week and I will pick you up if I have to but you're coming".

"She already has an appointment for next week". Gojo interrupted. "She might be careless but I can't let my wife skip a check up. Shall we go now….love?".

You looked at Gojo, confused, when did he make an appointment for you?

"Right we should get going". You said and turned to give Hosi a parting hug. "It was nice bumping into you".

Hoshi handed you his card. "Call me if you need anything. Even if it's the world's best coffee". He winked, making you laugh.

"Sure. I will. See you later Hoshi".

Gojo intertwined your hands and gave Hosi a warning smile and turned around. He stayed silent as Hoshi walked away. "You never told me about your friend". Gojo said dryly. He could feel jealousy spread inside him like a wildfire.

"Yeah I mean he moved to Osaka a month after Keisuke was born".

"Was he there when Keisuke was born? I mean…with you". Gojo asked, avoiding your gaze.

"Yes he was. Luckily. I was so scared". 

Gojo hummed and stepped inside the room. 

Dr.Iwazumi was a renowned child specialist and it was indeed difficult to get an appointment with her. But the Gojo family was a patron of the hospital and the new medical center so for him it was just a matter of a phone call. 

"Hello Mr.Gojo". Dr.Iwazumi got up and extended an arm to shake Gojo's hand. She bowed to you curtly and you bowed back.

"I looked at Keisuke's file and I must say that he is a very healthy baby. You must have been really cautious during your pregnancy" she smiled at you.

"I tried my best doctor". You said, nervously.

Dr.Iwazumi picked up Keisuke gently and put him in a cushioned crib. She pressed the stethoscope to his back and nodded her head. She then proceeded to measure his weight and smiled. "He is perfectly healthy. We'll just give him his shots which will be completely painless". 

You have been through this before. You had held him when he got his first vaccine so leaned and whispered to Gojo, "Do you want to hold him?". 

Gojo didn't smile and nodded plainly. You pulled back and wondered what was going on with him. He would usually be happy and give you a smile. But you dropped it and watched Gojo hold Keisuke snugly as he got his vaccine. 

Gojo remained silent during the entire car ride and it raised suspicion. 

"Satoru are you okay?".

"Yes".

You held his hand and he let out a sigh. "Did you just sigh at me?". You scoffed.

Gojo pouted and looked at you. "If you were so close to Shiro then why didn't you tell me about him?".

"It's Hoshi and there is nothing to tell. He is a friend. I am sure you have many friends too".

"But I don't give them nicknames". Gojo retaliated with a hint of jealousy evident in his voice.

"It's nothing" 

Gojo sucked in a sharp breath. "It's not nothing when a stranger clearly knows more about my wife than I do". 

"That's not true".

Gojo stayed silent and turned to look out the window.

"Satoru, it's not true. He only knows what happened in that one year and you have known me for years". 

Gojo hummed. You were right but the feeling stayed. He could not get over how freely that lowly human hugged you and rested his arms around your waist like he had any right to touch someone like you. If Gojo was not trying to be a good person for you he would have ripped Hoshi's arms off. How dare he touch you? How dare he hold your hand? How dare he give you a nickname? How dare he look at you like that? 

Gojo took his phone out of his pocket and dropped a quick text to one of his "friends" at the hospital.

Gojo : How long has Dr.Hoshi worked at the hospital?

Mr.Iwazumi : Few months sir. Is there any issue? How was your visit? I hope everything was according to your needs.

Gojo : The visit went well. I think Mr.Hoshi is a good doctor but his services are not required at the hospital.

Mr.Iwazumi : You are absolutely right sir. We would be happy to transfer him to our regional branches.

Gojo : I think he would be best suited to lead our volunteer program in south Africa.

Mr.Iwazumi : You are absolutely right sir.

-X-

Keisuke was fast asleep and was going to sleep for another couple of hours as Dr.Iwazumi had told you. You walked in the wardrobe taking off your earrings and Gojo walked behind you. 

"You need help with the dress?". Gojo asked.

You turned your head back and smiled. "I do".

But Gojo had other plans. He grabbed your wrist and spun you around and crashed his lips onto yours. You stumbled on your heels but Gojo balanced you by the waist. You moaned into the kiss when he pressed you into him. The kiss was different from the previous one. It was more desperate and filled with dark lust. Gojo kissed you like he would die without feeling your lips on his.

"Sa.." before you could take his name he sucked harshly on your lower lip making your eyes roll to the back of your head. "Fuck…". You murmured when he let go of your lip and trailed kissed down to your neck. You could feel the heat rising in your body traveling in waves all the way down to your core. Gojo sucked on the sensitive point on your neck and your knees almost gave up but Gojo's grip on your waist strengthened , pulling you into him and gently rocking your bodies together kept you standing up. Gojo wrapped a strong arm around your waist and lifted you up like you weighed nothing.  

"Satoru…".You were gasping when you pulled away. "you were supposed to help me with the dress". You spoke with your lips still brushing against each other.

Gojo chuckled. "I can still do that". He slowly brought his hand up and unzipped the dress. The cold air made you shudder. But soon the cold was replaced by Gojo's warm palm pressing flat against your back.

Gojo gently nibbled on your lower lip, teasing you. Like he was reminding you that what you wanted was right here and all you had to do was let go of your doubts and reach for it. "Let's get you out of this dress". Gojo smirked against your lips and put you down. 

You blushed as he kneeled in front of you and started sliding the dress up your body kissing every inch of exposed he could. You were on your way to heaven but then reality dawned on you. You put your hand over his and stopped his moments. 

Gojo looked up at you worriedly. "Y/n…". He said. He didn't know what to say. Did he move too soon? Were you mad at him?

"I…I don't..I look different than I did before".

Gojo smiled and kissed the exposed skin on your right thigh. "The only thing I'll.be thinking about when you're out of this dress is where do I put my mouth first". 

You gulped harshly as Gojo slid the dress past your waist. You pulled up the fabric and took it off completely like ripping off a bandaid. Gojo stood up and looked at you in your matching white set with his mouth agape. "You're so fucking beautiful you have no idea". He pulled you towards him and crashed his lips on yours. 

Your hands tugged on his polo shirt and Gojo broke the kiss for a second to take off in one swift motion.  He moaned into the  kiss when he felt your hands drag over his torso. He gripped your waist and ran soothing circles on your skin. Just the feeling of your skin on his sent his brain into a frenzy. He had never felt more alive, his hands shaking out of desperation. He wanted to devour you but savor you at the same time. 

In one swift motion he picked you up by the back of your thigh. Your breath shuddered when he wrapped your legs around his waist. Your mind went blank, all you could think and feel in the moment was Gojo. His scent, his breath, his voice intoxicated you. You opened your eyes when your back came in contact with the wall and Gojo's lips traveled down to the column of your neck. You sucked in a sharp breath and tugged his soft white hair. "Sa….toru …fuck". You breathed out. Gojo grinded into you and you had to bite your lip to suppress the moan. You wanted him badly. You needed him. You could tell how hard he was by the way he was masterfully rolling his hips against your clothed core.

Gojo's lips traveled down further leaving red marks on its way. He nibbled on the flesh of your breast and you pulled on his hair making him groan.  Gojo looked up at you, smiling like a child who had won the trophy. 

"God y/n". He breathed out and kissed you gently. "Tell me ..tell me what you want".

"Satoru…". You said and gulped hard. You knew what you wanted but felt guilty for wanting it. 

"If you want me to stop then just say the word". Gojo looked at you intently. 

"Sa-".

"Say my name one more time and I won't stop y/n. If you take my name one more time then..". He looked into your eyes then at your swollen lips. ".. I'll have you for myself". 

Your heart skipped a beat as he said those last words brushing his lips against yours. You closed your eyes for a second and then opened them again, "Satoru…". 

Gojo smiled devilishly as he kneaded the far of your butt. "fuck…". He muttered as he trailed another line of kisses down your neck but this time instead of moving down he moved to your shoulder and took the strap between his teeth and yanked it off your shoulders. He did the same with the other one and carried you to the leather bench between the two parts of the wardrobe. 

The kiss turned aggressive as he laid you down. It was filled with pure want and both of you were high on each other's touch. "Don't hold those pretty sounds for me. I have waited too long to hear it". Gojo said as he continued kissing down your torso tugging down your bra and underwear in lieu. 

"B..but…kei-".

"No one can hear you from this side". He kneeled down on the carpeted floor and pulled you to the edge locking your legs around his shoulder. 

Before you could even question it his mouth was on your core and your words died between your moans. It had been so long since you had felt this way and you had never wanted any man other than the one kneeling between your legs. His tongue swiped up and down and you were already reaching the peak. 

"Fuck!!". You screamed when he sucked on your bud making your legs twitch. "Oh fuck toru!!". Your back arched off the maroon couch and your nails dug in the plush leather.

Gojo was starving. He realized how starved he was when he got to taste you. It was a miracle how he lasted a year without this. He wanted so much more. Your moans and screams were music to his ear. Every time you took his name he got motivated to do better. He sucked and slurped like a savage man not letting a drop go by. All of this was meant for him. All of you was meant for him and this time…god save those who dare take this away from him. 

His tongue darted inside and his thumb played with the bud for its own pleasure. You opened your mouth as you felt the tidal wave washing over you. This feeling was beautiful and within seconds you were transcended into another plane where only pleasure existed. You threw your head back and heaved as you came back down but Gojo had other plans. More like he had no plan on stopping as continued ravishing you.

As soon as your essence touched his tongue he let out a heavenly moan. The room was filled with the sinful slurping noises and Gojo went back in for more. His brows scrunched up in focus, eyes lidded in pleasure, lips covered in your essence, he was going insane. The insanity, the dark side, that he has hidden so well from you was now on the surface. You were his. He didn't care how many rules he had to break but you belonged to him and no one could take you away. Not his past, not your doubts, not even god. 

He could feel you tighten around his tongue and smiled like a maniac as he wrote his name on you. He moaned and tightened his grip around you when he felt you cum again. Only he can do this. Only he can make you cum like this. Only he is worthy of this. Only he has the right to do this.  

When he stood up, the sight in front of him made his heart beat faster. Your body glistened with a thin coating of sweat. Your hair is splayed out by your face. You were heaving with your eyes closed and brows knitted together. 

He took his pants and boxers off on one go and hovered over you with his one knee digging in the couch between your legs and the other firmly on the ground. He leaned down with his hands pressed by your side and bent down to kiss the frown line. "You okay, love?".

You opened your eyes slowly and nodded your head. But you were not completely okay. You were faced with a situation you had never faced before. Gojo brought his one hand and caressed your cheek, "Do you want me to stop?". He asked. As much as he wanted this, nothing came before your pleasure and happiness. 

You looked at him, "No.. it's just…". 

Gojo frowned, something was bothering you. Now. "What is it? I'll fix it for you". 

You blushed. "I…my…I haven't..". You closed your eyes and opened again."... I didn't feed Keisuke so my…I mean I feel…heavy". 

Gojo smiled as he understood what you meant. "I'll take care of you. Just let me okay?".

You nodded your head and Gojo slid your hand up and held both of your hands above your head. He kissed you and spread your legs further with his knee. He kissed the valley between your breasts before attaching his lips on the left one. As soon as he took the perked up bud between his lips you felt you whimpered. Gojo was gentle but his gentleness made your brain go numb. He let go of your hand and wrapped his one arm around your waist and massaged your other breast with the free one. 

"Ngh…toru!!". You purred as you felt a little pressure ease.

Gojo was lost in his own pleasure. He never knew he could be this close with you. He didn't want to stop. Didn't want to let go. He looked up at you through his pearly white lashes and felt a wave of satisfaction take over as he saw your mouth open wide and eyes closed too lost in pleasure. 

He let go with a pop and kneeled between your legs. He bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself. "You are so addictive". He whispered against your lips as his tip prodded your entrance. 

"Satoru!". You winced. 

Gojo cooed, "I'm right here. It'll be fine. Just look at me love". 

You looked at him and sucked in a sharp breath as Gojo let you feel every inch of him. Your nails dug in his shoulder and the pain turned him on. He molded his lips to yours in a slow sensual kiss. He couldn't believe you were trusting him so much. You were letting him…allowing him to love you. To worship you. He felt honored. 

This wasn't your first or even the second time having sex with Gojo but you could never get used to his size. He was hardly half way but you already felt so pleasantly stretched out. But he was going too slow for you so you broke the kiss and took his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged on them letting him know that you wanted him and you wanted him now. 

Gojo got the message when he saw you with his lips tugged between your teeth and your doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes. When you let him go he smirked. "You're going to be the death of me". 

He bottomed out and let out a groan when he felt you wrapped snugly around him. He stayed still for a while, letting you get used to him.

“Please…”. You whimpered.

Gojo smiled and started with shallow strokes. Your nails dug red crescent in his back. It was getting hard for him to maintain his composure. He picked up his pace and moaned in the crook of your neck. Moved down and attached his lips to your perked up tits. He sucked harshly and kneaded the other one as he continued to snap his hips against yours. It was too much, his lips on your full tits relieving you of the pressure, his perfect rhythm, his groans and moans. The room was filled with squelching and slurping noises mixed with moans and cuss words. The stimulation was driving you crazy.

"You taste so sweet". He said as he switched to the other one. He meant it when he said he was going to have you for himself. He could have cum right then and there sucking on your heavy tits.

Gojo was convinced he was in heaven. His back was decorated with red lines and nail marks, he could feel you tighten around him and moved up and held both of your hands above your head with one hand and supported himself on the other one. Your back arched off the leather couch and Gojo changed his pace to a more brutal one.

“You’re mine”. He spoke through gritted teeth. “All mine! Fuck! I won’t let you leave. No one else deserves you”. He confessed.

"ngh!!! Yes!!". You whimpered.

You were so close and so was Gojo. Gojo looked down at you, “Stay with me! Fuck please love! I..I fucking love you. We’ll make a perfect home! I’ll give you as many kids as you want! Oh god..I..grow old with you! I need you.. I need this fuck ”. 

“Satoru! Oh God!” You screamed as you came but Gojo didn’t stop. He continued to pound through your orgasm and moaned your name as he felt your juices coat his cock buried deep inside. 

You were still recovering when Gojo picked up pace again. “One more..”. He whispered. 

“I..ca..can’t”. You choked out. 

“Yes you can”. Gojo bent down and kissed your forehead. A sweet gesture to make up for his brutal pace. A new kind of pressure built up inside you. “See. such a good girl for me. He smiled. “Wanna feel you cum around my cock love. Missed this. Missed you”.  

You gritted your teeth as your body moved in a perfect tandem. You looked at him, hair sticking to his forehead, washboard abs flexing every now and then. His biceps all pumped up and the veins of his hand popping up every time he flexed his arm. He was truly the most handsome man you had ever seen and he was here. With you. In you. You were sure that compared to him you looked like a hot mess but how could you talk down to yourself when he was muttering the most sinful and beautiful praises for you. Of course you could cum for him again. His thick length pumping inside you made your gut churn. He was so deep you could feel him in your stomach. "...missed you too". You confessed. "Fuck…you're…so fucking good oh god!". 

"Yeah? I'll be good for you. My beautiful beautiful wife!". Hearing praises fall from your lips gave him added motivation to fuck you so good that you everytime you even looked at another guy all you would think about was him. He bent down wrapping a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Cum for your sweet husband, yeah?”. He said as his pace faltered. He was close too.He looked down to where your bodies connected and gritted his teeth. He was one with you. He was your Satoru and you were his y/n .His new pace and dirty words opened the pleasure filled flood gates coating his entire torso with your juices. “Fuck yeah. That’s right. Squirt for me baby". He relished that moment. You were screaming his name, chanting it like you were lost in clouds and only he could bring you back to earth. With every snap of his hips more of your juices splattered into him. 

"Fuck you’re so beautiful! Gonna fill you up good. ”. He muttered and sucked on your sensitive spot near your neck as he came inside you with a shudder. 

Both of you stayed like that, relishing in the moment. His hands ran over your body as he continued tracing kisses everywhere he could. He wanted to extend this moment a little longer. 

"You okay?". Gojo asked, pulling out slowly but still hovering over you. Peppering kisses on your forehead and nose. 

You giggled. "Yeah". 

Gojo smiled and got up to fetch a towel for you. You sat up straight and sighed at the mess the two of you made. Your cheeks flushed thinking about everything that happened seconds ago. 

Gojo wrapped the towel around you and scooped you in his arms. "Whatcha thinking about?". He asked as she carried you to the bathroom. 

"We made a mess". 

Gojo chuckled. "You think too much. Let's get you cleaned up". 

Your back rested against his chest as both of you sat in the bathtub. Gojo's arms were wrapped around you as he peppered kisses on your neck.

His one hand trailer down to your core and teased you. Gojo smirked against your skin when he felt your breath hitch.

"Satoru..". You murmered and craned your neck at the same time to give him more access.

"Stop teasing me" you whispered.

"Love...". He smiled as he gently nibbled on your ear lobe.

"I'm not teasing you. I'm just appreciating my wife".

You smirked and slid your hand under water to gently stroke his semi hard cock.

"Aah... who's teasing now?". Gojo hummed as he brought his hand down to gently squeeze your tits.

"I'm just appreciating my husband". You could feel him getting hard and smiled when you felt him whimpering against your neck.

"Fuck fuck. Stop teasing". Gojo mumbled when your thumb grazed the slit.

You pouted, "I told you I'm not teasing. Just appreciating my husband".

Gojo's hand moved from your core to your wrist and yanked your hand away. His other hand traveled to the front of your neck and he wrapped his fingers around it gently. Before you could say anything his tip was prodding at your entrance and in one swift motion Gojo had bottomed out. You grabbed the edge of the tub and choked out cuss words. Gojo's one hand wrapped around your waist and the one around your neck travels down and wrapped around your tits.

"You want to appreciate your husband?". Gojo cooed near your ear as he started moving slowly.

"Y..mmhmm yes". You whimpered.

"Then be my good little wife and let me feel you cum around my cock". He kissed your cheeks and picked up his pace. Water splashed down the sides but Gojo didn't care.

"Tell me you're mine. Tell me only I get to do this with you! Please!". Gojo winced when he felt you clench around him.

"I'm yours. Yours. Only ...only you can..fuck me ...ngh...like this!". You breathed out .

Gojo increased his pace and within minutes you were cuming with Gojo ."You look so beautiful". He said as he slowed down his pace. "I'll give you the world y/n". He kissed your cheeks softly.

-X-

You put your arm over his and snuggled into him. "I just want us to be safe and happy".

The whole day went by like a blur. You didn't remember a moment when Gojo did not have his arms around you. He didn't let you leave the bed. Whatever you wanted was brought to you. There was something different about him now. He seemed more frantic. Scared. Eager. Yet composed at the same time.  

Gojo watched you fall asleep snuggled in his arms and he had never felt more powerful. He could watch you be you all day. The remnants of the morning's shenanigans evident on your neck and Gojo soothed it with his thumb. He replayed the moment in his head for the hundredth time that day, your monas ringing loud and clear in his head every time he rolled his hips into yours. But one thing is certain about power, that it doesn't last long.

His phone chimed indicating that he had received a message. He would have informed it but it was too late to be receiving any work related message. He rolled over partially with his one hand under your head and reached for the phone on his nightstand with the other one. 

Yuri's name flashed on the screen. Gojo frowned. There could be no good reason why she would be texting him now. He opened the message and his eyes widened with shock. It was a photo. Of him and Yuri in the same bed, seemingly naked and He had his arms around her the same he had around you. Gojo's heart dropped. He got out of bed carefully and walked to the balcony. 

He called her but she didn't answer. He called again and the message went straight to the voicemail.

Gojo cursed under his breath. The photo was fake for sure or was taken without his consent and was staged. But if by any chance it reached you then it would all be over. 

Gojo : What do you want?

Yuri : I got your attention now

Gojo : The photo is fake. You know it!

Yuri : Is it? 

Gojo frowned at the message for a while. Yuri sent him a video next and Gojo hit play with shaking hands. His mouth hung open as soon as he saw it. It was him and Yuri. He was asleep with his arms around her and she was taking a video of her kissing him on the cheeks. He was naked and she had the white silk sheet wrapped around her exposing only her bare shoulders. 

Gojo : what the fuck is wrong with you! This never happened!

Yuri : Will y/n believe it? Should I send it to her now or deliver it in person?

Gojo stormed inside the bedroom and picked up your phone from the nightstand. He unlocked it and saw a message from the same number. 

Yuri : Gotcha toru!

Gojo gritted his teeth and went back out. He called Yuri again but she cut the call.

Gojo : What do you want? 

Yuri : I just want y/n to know the truth ,toru. She is such a sweet woman and it hurts me that her husband is lying to her. 

Gojo closed his eyes and tears rolled down his cheeks. He collapsed on the chair and bit his lips harshly. 

Gojo : Nothing happened between us and you know it. Why are you doing this to me?

Yuri : Are you sure nothing happened between us? You were heavily medicated at that time, maybe you just don't remember :) 

Gojo : Stop playing with me and tell me what you want. 

Yuri : I also have proof that Hiro shot himself. 

Gojo's eyes widened. 

Gojo : you're lying. 

Yuri : Am I? Or did Hiro say for love before blowing his brains off? 

Gojo stared at the text. 

Yuri : I give you two options. 1) Divorce y/n then prove to her that you didn't kill Hiro. 2) Stay with her but I'll send her the video. 

Gojo : I can't lose her. You know I can't. 

Yuri : You'll live. You can always call me ;) 

Gojo : I can have you killed right now!

Yuri : You can keep her phone and cut her off but you know that I'll always find a way. If I die then she dies. 

Gojo clutched the phone tightly in his hand and hung his head. He was well aware of what Yuri could do. She can hurt you. He can't let that happen. 

Yuri : If you even try to move her away I will either kill her and that baby of yours or I will send her the video. It all depends on how charitable I'm feeling.

Gojo : You have a problem with me. Do not bring y/n and Keisuke into this. If you try to touch a hair on them I will have you skinned alive. 

Yuri : Whatever you do to me I'll do to her. You have one week to decide :) 

@hiqhkey @chemtrails-club @simplyrosesxr @foggyperfectiondragon @sofi786 @vesta-ro @kimvmarvel @mykyoon @shintin @attackonsimpp @pyschopotatomeme @lilith412426 @shuxjodie @sagejin @cloudsinthecosmos @hecateria @froggylust @lightblueexorcist @watyousayin @creolequeen11210 @s13nnnna @shartnart1 @the-crane-wives @musababy @loquia @ackerstain @allofffmypeaches @regalillegal @erintaro @commandertorinshepard @gojo-sunglasses @tspice283 @iam-mia9 @screwyou3 @denypipa @smolkazumi @winter-bearv @mc-reborn @pangolynnn @sindela @daintyazra @purpleguk @iam-mia9 @sammyiguess @ritsatoru @5seos @kirby-star @vr00m-vr00m @qualitygiantshoepsychic @littlemochabunni

#gojo satoru #august✨ #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru smut #gojo Satoru fluff #gojo fanfic #gojo fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfic #yandere gojo #ceo gojo #yandere gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut

[roseofhybrids]

He he he hoo hoo hoo I can get the higher quality screencaps now, time to mess with the levels

The mineshaft We have some human skulls and rib cages (I count at least 3 of each), shovel, lantern, supply box, Indiana Jones hats, cloth roll. Your normal every day mine stuff. Oh, and the weird growths, of course. I thought this was like the red vines we saw in the manor, but these seem to be coming forward and off the rocks a lot more while the ones at the manor seemed to stick flat. They remind a lot of deer antlers.

Next we have the goobers in the cathedral Lottsa pillars, unlit candles, some sort of beam or bench knocked over in the back, a pile of furniture I can't quite make out (one in the front maybe a piano?), and a barrel. Your normal every day church stuff.

N getting dragged to hell hard to make out much in this. Looks to be more bones and goo. I recall someone saying the object N is grabbing looks like Uzi's hat. Hard to say for sure, but the size and texture does seem to match.

The outside of the cathedral Complete with a gravestone/pillar with a pickaxe and miner's helmet, chained up dingoes, and a giant lab space for rent sign. A few ends and nulls written on the skull and stone.

Nori's door, before and after (presumably) Tessa slams it shut. There's no other humans we know of around the place. And I believe that shape in the bottom left is her bow. Not much else to say about these ones. It's too dark to actually see anything inside the room. Though, I will say that the lighter edges we see along the frame when it's open seems a little strange. Like there might be something solid blocking the doorway.

More of the cathedral Another pillar (love those), some sort of entrance in the back, looks like a staircase to the right. Also, Uzi has yellow hand lights

N helping Uzi up Nothing to see after adjustment other than floor

ow Not much the adjustment tells us here either, just get a slightly better view of N getting his fingers broken

It is worth noting that her hand is back to purple here. But in the scene where her hands are yellow, she is not holding the crucifix.

So either the yellow was temporary / comes and goes. Or it turns yellow after the last shot and the scene we saw earlier in the trailer comes later in the actual episode.

I'd thought that maybe that shot of them turning came right after the hand crushing, but you can't see the staircase in that shot. That and the wooden ladder-like supports don't match up with the single one we see in the scene where her hand is yellow.

#murder drones #trailer #md episode 7 #md episode 8 #trailer analysis

[accio-victuuri]

RANDOM CANDIES 💌

I’ve been seeing some old candies being discussed around weibo and they are not long enough to require their own post. but these small ones can all live in this one space. 🫶🏼

a good number of these are fake rumors so keep that in mind. i cannot elaborate on them because that’s what these are, small hearsays and stories.

• While filming the scene in the waterfall, wyb told xz to call him “husband”, xz thought he meant to call lwj that but wyb said “call me.. not him.”

• OP said that when was on the set before, XLS would pout occasionally, it may be a subconscious action. Then WLS would say that XLS is so cute, He will say that every time, if XLS is tired, it is as good as if he is not because of WYB.

• Recently there was a kiss that looked like the two of them. They saw it and then WLS said if he hadn’t been there with him ( XLS ) he will believe that it’s true 😂😂😂

It’s allegedly this photo :

• i really don’t know how true this is, but it’s a fake contribution so just chill. OP said for the eleme commercial, there was a part that WYB’s character was supposed to draw something, he did but it was edited. because what he made was a “rabbit” and it ended up being just a person with a smiling face. and well, we know who the rabbit is — xiao zhan. 💟

• wyb said this to xz : “be cruel to others, leave your cuteness to me.” LOL.

• during cql days, XLS ordered KFC for everyone but realized he didn’t order enough so he just got one box and asked others to eat. So he started eating his chicken wings, WLS then said he wanted some too. Then he took bites from the same chicken wing XLS did. HAHAHAHAHAHA! The food sharing between them is just 👀 — they have no boundaries on that.

• i’m not really a fan of cpns that say they see something in xz’s eye. i just feel like it’s reaching too much. but this one is pretty sus cause i actually see it. who knows. 👁️👄👁️

the photo of wyb looks like the one reflected in his eyes.

• a rumor of XZ going through the bjyx st, because for 520 he mentioned that there is an art he really liked and praised it. saying that it’s of a beautiful couple and there is a red plum blossom. it is allegedly this art below. awwww. wangxian! we all know XZ loves them and he is an artist who has an eye for these things. didn’t expect to like the more scandalous type of art tho 👀

• apparently the filming of “drunk lwj” was chaotic, xz was first asking wyb if it’s okay to carry him and wyb said he is light. xz asks, how light? then wyb replied that he didn’t weigh himself recently. there was talks of xz carrying a sack ( wyb ) and them being asked to walk in an “s” direction, not in a straight line cause lwj is supposed to be drunk. they were stepping on each other clothes, hitting the pillar and just laughing the whole time 😂😂😂

• the fact that wyb once gave a wedding gift to a friend and it’s from wedgwood. now, xz is endorsing the brand.

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #happy long weekend to those who are off for memorial day ~

[ms0milk]

𝟒 | 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐎𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"His glowing red eyes try to kill you, to set you on fire like his mother’s do and he must succeed– someone succeeds– because the campsite goes up in one searing blue pillar of flame."

cw wrestling bkg to safety for 4k words, and so so much protective worry. fire-related injuries, incredibly brief reader panic sequence (overthinking). reader does not get to enjoy her first time seeing the ocean. someone is trying very hard to kill you (and doing very well) 4.8k

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Bakugou doesn’t much care for carriage rides. He gets nauseous easily tucked away in those glorified jewelry boxes and would always rather be on horseback. It’s been that way since he was little. It's too stuffy and he needs the fresh air.

Where is he now? Is he riding?

It feels like he’s being carried to bed by his father after a late party. It feels like he’s dying.

The ground whizzes rough underneath the pair of you and at the rate you’re driving this horse, all three of you will be dead before you can even make it inside the city walls. The prince’s hands are clammy when they reach out for nothing around you. You’re gasping, retching and dripping with blood.

“Highness– please– please hold on to me!”

It’s your fists wrapped in the sprinting horse’s mane, not his, and he thinks that’s strange. Bakugou is slipping out of consciousness against your back and you’re trying to figure out how one man alone could cause so much destruction.

The prince’s bloody hand tightens around your waist when he tries to pull back beside the campfire, but you hold him in place by not budging an inch. Does he know what’s coming? You level his sword to the danger ahead. 

“I know it’s you Master,” the ghost sings from deep in the trees. His voice reverberates from every direction. Grass tips flicker with fire in a perimeter around the campsite. The chill of the naught-winter wind shivers through branches, bringing the voice closer and closer to the clearing like he’s lighter than air.

A blue glow flickers between tree trunks and no one breathes when the apples beside you hiss, scream, and whither, and then bake into ash. Not a soul.

Kirishima looms across the clearing shielding his companions with anticipation more successfully than you’re managing the prince, and Aizawa crouches in the carriage nearby with his bow drawn.

“How was Aldera?” That haunting voice hums again. The blue din is closer now.

The prince snaps, growling, and leaps out from behind you towards the treeline and you don’t need Shinsou’s screamed warning to drop the sword and dive onto his back.

Another arrow whizzes under your arm as you tie your leg between Bakugou’s and use his momentum to smash you both, skidding, into the dirt. You land above him like this on your knees and it’s silent again. Shinsou and Sero watch back to back in horror as little fires dance in the trees in a circle around you.

You shouldn’t have let the caravan stop at the river today, you curse– you curse Aizawa– and curse the prince for the fight he’s putting up now trying to get you dislodged from his torso. Though, you wonder how he hasn’t gotten free yet– why he hasn’t turned you into a firework.

Furious shouts go up around you, but the prince, the only thing you need worry about is pressed to the ground between your thighs and his ashen hair clings to his forehead in a cold sweat. A sick sweat. His glowing red eyes try to kill you, to set you on fire like his mother’s do and he must succeed– someone succeeds– because the campsite goes up in one searing blue pillar of flame.

“Welcome home!”

Through the fire a slender black boot emerges over the treeline.

“Kids, run!”

In a flash Bakugou has the same idea as you and for a second ahead of the flames he’s no longer struggling against your grip. Screams and the smell of burning hair kick to life around you and before the air becomes too hot to breath the prince tugs you into his chest, you grab the edge of his cape, and kick the campfire irons hard enough to roll the pair of you up in the thick red fabric amid the fire.

If you survive this mission you won’t ever be able to return home and look your master in the eyes, let alone the queen. You’ll be stripped of your titles, your apprenticeship, your place in the castle, and you’ll deserve it. You’ll wander and no one will mourn you.

“Highness, up!” You shout into the tiny space between your bodies in this fireproof cocoon you’ve made; it isn’t just for show that Alderans are known as dragon-tamers.

Your forehead presses against his and the sweat slick makes it hard to move well. He’s cold. The fire outside whistles without much by way of kindling to stick to and you know you have to run before another wave erupts, “Up, now!”

Kirishima balances his friends in his arms and on his shoulders, and what parts of them he can’t cover are shielded by a viscous gray screen. Mina shouts your name from where she dangles around his neck when you throw the prince’s cape open, but she’s not fast enough to warn you. A man runs dark and lithe through the clearing in a zigzag that would be difficult to follow even if you were paying attention to more than the limp prince caged between your arms.

He isn’t rising with you, “Your Highness! Prince Bakugou!”

He groans, flushed, against the ground without any more wounds than the slice he got across his palm when he caught the arrow meant for you. He growls when you rip open his vested furs in a panic.

He must have been struck– did he hit his head? Is it a burn? You’re frantic on your knees beside him while you look from his twisted face to the blue hell around you and back down again, and try to picture your escape without ever stopping fully to process. Horses are screaming. The prince’s hissing melts into groans and he slips his elbow against the ground to sit up while you’re trying to locate a weapon– figure out why your halberd isn’t in its sheath on your back– try to locate the nobles and Aizawa and the Champion and–

You whip back around when Bakugou’s golden hand tugs at a piece of your hair, alight in blue flames and smothers it in his fist.

He bares his teeth at you, “get…away.”

“Me or her?” The ghost whispers coolly from behind.

You gasp as his rough cheek brushes yours, and he muffles your snarl when you turn to strike him, with one horribly leathery hand. A hand that grips the edges of your face hard enough you think you’ll pop before you’re able to claw his fingers from the divots they’ve made of you.

He’s crouching now and his other hand comes up to pry your jaw open so you can’t bite off the two fingers that have found their way into your mouth.

Hats off to dying. Of all the things to fear in the world, closed spaces, big crowds, exams, introductions, the flu– dying like this is fear unimaginable. The man rots visibly in sections across his body, his face. He wears clothes like they’re gauze and steams from his horrible stitches. He also lets you go. 

More accurately, you are thrown from his grip before he can roast you alive when Master Aizawa flies through the man’s head with his knee. You’re knocked away rough against the ground from the impact. It’s so horrible you want to cry laughing at the fact Mina thought you might be a flame mage, that someone like you could wield magic like this, just three days ago.

“Y/n!” Aizawa seeths when he lands and charges immediately for a second attack against the magician before he can fully rebalance. There’s no new fire for now. He shouts over his shoulder to you, “Due east, Y/n! Get Bakugou to Takoba!”

Master Aizawa must sleep as much as he does to recover from fighting, because the man moves like a panther. Hair in his blood red eyes, bandages wrapped around his fists, he fights faster, strikes violently harder, than your eyes are able to keep track of. Two blows to the mage’s throat, one caught in a fist and the other landing just below a collarbone. A handspring back to dodge a knife and a flourish to ensure he lands facing his opponent. A sprint that turns into a double boot kick sending both him and his opponent crashing through the clearing.

In the second he gets from the distance, Master Aizawa pulls a canister from his belt and throws it into the air. With a hiss and a whistle, it bursts open and a single blue light screams straight up miles into the sky, into the stars, and out of sight leaving nothing but the bright glow above you.

“Get a horse!” He again shouts to you, dazed at the edge of the clearing, “The flare is an or–!” The scarred mage is up again, noticeably free of fire, and charging the guard. You’re pulling yourself together.

“It’s an order to open the city gates!”

In the center of the clearing, Bakugou wants to roar. If he could it would be loud enough to splinter the earth but something locks his sparks and his anger away. Denki cries out a little ways behind him, Sero and Kirishima are shouting instructions to each other, and no one seems to see him.

The prince, with great effort, rolls over. First onto his face and then with a white knuckled fist in the dirt, onto his forearms. With a trembling effort he pulls his legs underneath him and finally he swells up to a kneel. Something has lit every dry surface, every leaf, hair, scrap, and cloth, on fire. Blue fire. He would feel the peeling burns on his bare shoulders and back if he wasn’t so fucking cold.

To his right, Sero releases great lengths of ribbon into the trees whose canopies are lost to flame, “The fire will spread! Slow it down!” Kirishima tugs the ribbons hard enough to break trunks and to uproot dead saplings.

To his left, Denki is slouched against Mina’s chest in a singed tunic and blood smears stain their clothes in errant patterns. Shinsou’s close-by, freeing the last of the horses.

The carriage is a white wicker lantern, gone, gone, gone, silver trim, chandeliers and all, up in smoke. Bakugou staggers to his feet when Shinsou tries to lift Denki’s limp body from Mina’s arms, but he doesn’t have a drop of strength left in him, let alone a spark, let alone a step or an arm to use to carry his injured friend out of the fire to safety. But you can.

You can do it. You finish shaking your brain straight after that hit and rip your horrible fucking riding cloak off of your horrible fucking tunic before the fire that’s eating it eats you up too. Aizawa’s a little ways ahead of you throwing punches and blocking kicks and keeping the flame mage from showering your group with any more fireballs, but he still let this happen and so did you, and you’re trembling with anger.

They’re safe with me.

You snatch one of the mage’s arrows out of the ground from where it missed you and charge.

You have to get the prince out of here, you have to return to the queen in one piece so you can see her just one more time and then you’ll surrender to death, you promise the stars right now they can take you as long as you can go back home just one more time, I swear!

Not that you’re much of a bargaining chip now. It’ll just have to do. It has to be enough because the prince is stumbling blindly through flames ahead of you. From this distance he bends like a broken mirror in the heat waves and patches of fire crawl up his furs, barely upright.

You launch into the fight without your halberd or anything even resembling armor and land like a koala onto the flame mage’s back with only that little arrowhead in your fist to anchor you there.

When he shouts, you dig its point as deep into his shoulder as you can manage before the shaft snaps in your fist and then you grab a fistfull of his hair to replace it. Aizawa balks when you kick off the mage’s back like a springboard and yank his head down as you fall to the ground in front of them. The second your feet tap the dirt you’re off.

You wish you had seen the mage take Aizawa down with him. So you could piece together the Master’s magic before the mage crushed his head in the dirt to keep his eyes covered for an opening.

Bakugou is not going to stay upright for much longer. Without a destination he crumples back down to his knees. He wants to lay down and fly all at once, but he’s simply slipping away. Backwards into the dirt. Before he falls flat into the flames you throw your legs out underneath you from a sprint and slide behind him in time for his torso to land in your lap.

He’s drenched in a sickly sweat that reeks of burnt sugar and general sour. His golden chest heaves with effort under your fingers. You cup his cheeks in your dirty hands. He looks angry unconscious and still there is no feeling like finally holding him safe in your arms.

He could hate you all he wanted, fire you, banish you, execute you– no matter. He could burn holes through your armor with his ruby eyes and sear your skin with his magic, he could shout if he wanted to. He was permitted to strike you, challenge you, but you were not going to let the queen’s son die.

“Duck!” Mina’s voice is a surprise when she pushes your head down from behind and leaps in front of you. She lands on her knees and waves her other arm in an arch between your bodies without a second to spare in blocking the incoming pillar of fire. A thick gray wall spreads across the air like she’s painting it with a brush and flames burst to life around you, diverted by her shield. She whips her head back, “Are you okay?!”

These flames are weaker than before, and don’t singe you from proximity alone.

“I–”

A large rough hand snatches your waist from behind at the same time as the fires die down and Aizawa’s growls echo from the other side of the wall. The hand is Kirishima’s and he’s pulling you to your feet in the same fluid movement he makes to toss Bakugou over his shoulder.

He’s running, pulling you and speaking to you all at once over the sound of the burning forest, instructions maybe, leading you to a lone white horse at the edge of the trees. His pull on your wrist doesn’t keep you from reaching back for Mina with a gasp, but she’s already running in another direction, towards Shinsou with a limp Denki in his arms in an all-dirt part of the clearing that isn’t drinking the fire.

“Don’t stop!” She cries when she sees you reaching, and disappears with her injured friend and the Takoba guard, into another section of the forest past the clearing.

You must be truly exhausted, because your feet aren’t on the ground anymore and you aren’t putting up a fight. Kirishima hoists you onto the horse’s bare back with more shouted instructions. Bakugou is tossed on next.

Kirishima does not look gentle anymore. With firelight illuminating his back, his cheeks are cracked. His hands are tearing and savage.

“Y/n!” He grabs your cheeks in one of those rough hands from below and keeps Bakugou upright on the horse with his other. He points to the sky and thrusts your face upward, and following his sharp finger you can see a blue flare going up in the distance, between the thick canopy of leaves.

“Takoba answered Aizawa’s call! The gates are open!”

On your other side, Sero uses Bakugou’s singed cape to tie the two of you together and wraps a length of his sticky white ribbon around your torsos for good measure.

“What about you?!”

“There’s only one horse left, just go!” 

You don’t have the time to argue. With the prince in such a state on your shoulder you barely wait for Kirishima’s response before you’re digging your heels into the frantic white horse and wrapping your fists into her mane while she bolts, quickly far, far away through the trees towards her home.

Castle on the sea doesn’t even begin to describe the scene ahead when your horse bursts out of the forest.

Your breath only comes in wheezes now. Your bones aren’t broken but you’re not processing enough information to feel them even if they were. The prince’s face between your hands in the clearing– that’s what you’re processing. You don’t even know what’s wrong. You don’t know where his injury is– you wish you were the horse racing your prince to safety, so that you could do more than just cling to him with every ounce of strength in your body to keep him from falling into the sand.

You have to take hold of his hand when it reaches again limply past you to nothing and you try as hard as you can to wrap it into the horse’s mane like touching anything other than you will remind him that he’s alive, and to please just hold on.

You think of the little blond boy, your same age, sneaking off to the library in the middle of the night by the light of a single candle. And of you sneaking off behind him to peek at his magic from behind the cracked library door. He used to hunch over a different book every night at the great wooden table (books so big he had to carry them with both hands) and blow the candle out once he read his fill. Like clockwork, the second your eyes grew wide in the dark, his little sparkles trickled into focus, springing up from his fingertips in pinks and purples.

Bruises that same color bloom atop his thigh now, the thigh nestled right behind yours. If you had talked to that little boy maybe this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe he could have taught you magic before it was too late and he would trust you now to stand between him and danger. Bakugou groans against the back of your neck. You have to focus.

Takoba is not just a castle, it’s a city on the sea– on a hill– a mountain– a cliff. It’s a city your horse might not survive the climb to at the rate you’re driving it. Polished stone walls reach up over the buildings and homes inside effectively enough that the only thing you can see behind those protective walls is the white marble castle at the very top, craning up towards the stars in spires. There’s nothing at all behind the city– behind the castle– except for black water. 

You tug the prince's cape to keep him flush to your back against the waves of the horse’s gallop. It pulls his broad shoulders around yours and a mumbled curse drifts in his breath across your cheek. You’ve made a promise to every person you’ve spoken to in the past four days, and every single one has been to protect him.

You are safe with me, I swear. You are my only mission so please, just hold on.”

There’s nothing but grass and sand between the edge of the forest and the beach, which means there’s nothing but distance between your horse and a Takoba hospital bed. A flash of red whips through the air in your periphery and if you looked back for a single second, you would see smoke and the growing blue of fire in the forest not even a mile away. But you choose instead to focus on the city gates coming into focus dead ahead.

Kirishima was right. In an arc at the center of the walls, the city gates are open wide and lined with guards who are only dots in the distance now, but become more and more detailed the closer your horse sprints to their post.

“Prince of Aldera!” You scream into the sea air to try and announce yourself before entering the city.

The chain of guards in front of the open gateway aren’t making a space for you to pass through as you approach so you call to them again. The prince’s full body shudders as you scream his name and when he tries to lift his head he only gets as far as your ear before his cheek is flat against your shoulder. You clutch a hand to his head to keep him close to you,

“Aldera convoy! Clear the way!”

These guards don’t wear seafoam lace or shiny pearls. They don’t break formation and they raise their weapons straight ahead in warning. You think of Jeanist. You apologize to Jeanist.

“Y/n what would you say are the qualities of a diplomat?”

“Patient, sir.” Your voice was shaky because you were only seven years old when you had your first geography lesson.

“Anything else?”

This specific day you walked through the West Wing to pick peaches. So the sun shone warm over your cheeks while you thought. You squinted your eyes tight and spoke confidently, “Probably a little boring.”

Now you apologize to Jeanist again, for good measure. Because the closer you get to Takoba’s city gates, the more armed guards there are fortifying the line, shouting things that you can’t make out– and it’s obvious you are not cut out to be a diplomat.

“Aldera Royal Guard!” With one hand on the cape tying you together, you use the rest of your strength to lean deep and close to the violently bobbing neck of your horse and bring the prince forward with you.

Through a mouth full of mane you scream, “Stand down!” and toy soldiers become fully grown not 500 feet uphill from you, 200 feet– 50 feet– and you apologize again to the queen, your companions, your master, this poor fucking horse– to the prince cradled in your hand you just say, stay.

With a final drive of your heels, the horse launches over the soldiers without slowing and clears the line with four echoing hooves crashing down on the cobblestone of the city square.

Only a few stray guards catch your last syllables, the white of a Takoba horse, and a glimpse of the prince’s blond hair shaggy against your back, but it’s enough for a chorus of ‘don’t shoot!’s to go up in their ranks. 

This horse is not going to stop until it reaches the edge of a cliff, so with one fist full of its mane and other full of the prince’s cape you drive through the sleepy square and up the main street to the castle sitting fat atop the hill.

Late-night straggling citizens drunkenly jump out of your war path into gutters and shopfaces. Horseshoes against cobblestone is a much better warning sound than you’d anticipated and you’d grin at your luck if Bakugou wasn’t very nearly flying to the ground from all your jerking ministrations. An arm wraps around your waist with a deep gasp in your ear as the prince clings to someone in a dream.

“Aldera Royalty! Stand clear!” Candles in the windows around you flicker on, “Clear the road!”

The royal castle is much more imposing up close, sprawling wide across the top of the city. A city, you realize now that you’re inside, so large you can’t actually see the walls farthest from you let alone the great black sea that extends forever in every direction behind it. All that matters is Takoba Royal Castle, dead ahead. Shelter for the prince and a new polearm for you to return to the forest to fight with.

Prince Bakugou’s forehead against your bare neck is so hot that the icy cold of his knuckles burns. He’s not muttering anymore, or gripping your tattered clothes as tight as he was just a second ago, so you call for a medic over and over again before the castle gates come into view in the hopes that a doctor is waiting for you at the front doors.

You’re not even sure you could let go of him long enough for a doctor to take him now.

“Halt!”

You do not halt.

“Do not approach!”

You grind your thighs against warm white flank with every drop of strength in your body to prepare for the whiplash of this horse coming to a stop on the other side of the final obstacle between your prince and his hospital.

The castle gates are open like Aizawa’s flare instructed them to be and there’s nothing– sweet nothing– to destroy in order to get through. Your horse knows the way. She claps over cobblestones in a straight line to the entrance and bounds across the threshold of wrought iron.

The courtyard glistens white in the moonlight and the architecture on this side of the castle is delicate just like the blue fairy carriage. It looks like a smooth seashell with little windows for divots climbing all the way up to the spires. Great white balconies wind around outside to create footpaths in the free air and a grand rounded archway forms the frame for every door you can see. If you were closer you’d see too, the carvings on these archways and on every marble stone that builds the castle, depicting wars, births, deaths, and history.

But the second your horse slides to a jarring and terrible, screaming halt on the smooth marble driveway, a shock of arrows are released through the air over your heads and you remember again the might of a castle protecting its queen.

You’re surprised by the numbness of your limbs when you try to raise your hands into the air. You feel as if you’re still moving in the sudden still. And shaking terribly.

“The prince– I–!” You can’t see where the arrows came from, or the bowmen and you don’t know where to direct your voice. Your horse trots and cries in place. The prince would be able to announce himself. His voice would carry like yours can’t.

“We have one hundred bowmen trained on your position, stranger. Dismount!”

You can’t, I can’t. You realize now just how much strength it took from your legs to keep your body and the prince on horseback without a saddle. Your arms and hands too tremble with fatigue. How do you tell them?

“Dismount!”

You have to explain yourself, or keep Prince Bakugou safe from their archers. A girl in silver armor emerges from an illuminated archway to the right of the main doors and clicks her heels across the marble pavement. She is blunt,

“Where did you get this horse?”

When she steps closer you can see her round cheeks clearly in the cold moonlight and the dark circles you must have caused her by throwing the city into high alert so late. You only need her to take Bakugou. You need a stretcher for the prince and a weapon to return to the forest with so your friends don’t need to fight the flame mage alone.

“Aldera Guard,” you offer her, “please..”

When her eyes go wide with realization another soldier is already sprinting into the courtyard at full speed. He’s in a tunic, not armor and he shouts something as he approaches, but you can’t hear either of them very well now.

“Kacchan!”

The girl turns around and shouts something too, a sense of urgency lighting up her face while she eyes the burns on your clothes. The prince tightens his hold around your stomach.

“Please,” you repeat and clutch his golden arm.

The next time you lean your head forward it’s because you’re slipping off of your horse, and when the armored guard races forward to catch you it only takes a touch because your body and prince’s begin to float just a little ways off the ground.

More and more guards rush to the scene upon hearing the calls for “medic!” and “fucking now!” and when the real flood of staff pours into the courtyard in all their soft nightclothes, it takes five of them to uncurl your fingers from the prince’s cape and it takes another three to unbunch the back of your blouse from his fist.

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tagged angels ✧.* @nnubee @cherrykamado @nonomesupposedto @zombiewarprincess @kotarousproperty @strawberry-mentos69 @sveetnn @eirlysian @lunrai @cherripunch26 @km7474 @arayoflia @annoyingleftpinky @noomaisdone @cr33pycrawlerr @iced-chai-tea-latte @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tragicallygray @idimmadontgiveashit @kooromin @k1tk4tkatsuki @litiri @kiwibao @kiwifujin @mmmaackerel

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#i love watching this lil taglist grow every ch! #even though it only shows up on desktop xo #finally the plot and pining can begin #i hate writing bkg so one dimensionally MISERABLE #thrilled for two dimensional Mean #bakugou x reader #a hymn to black water #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha #fantasy au

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Part Three: Ghosts

Part One: Here. Part Two: Here. Part Three: You are here. Part Four: Here

Author's note: Inspired by the 1950s short story "The Man Who Came Early" by Poul Anderson. Red Sail Hall is what I decided to call Arthur's house. The referring to Alfred as 'Yan' comes from @oumaheroes! It's one of the only remaining parts of the Cumbrian Celtic language. And we're leaning hard into fantasy now. TW for gothic imagery, I guess?

Red Sail Hall

21st Century

“Oi, what tea am I supposed to make?" Rhys asked and listened, waiting for Arthur bustling about through the doorway to answer. The pantry with the extra board that dropped down as a counter from the cabinet currently held more than a dozen new tins, boxes and sets. Honestly, the man had a problem. “There’s another dozen in here since I last stopped by!"

He lifted a foot, felt a gentle pressure on his calf and glanced down to see the massive house tiger Arthur and Matthew insisted on calling a library cat. It was rubbing against his leg affectionately. It was just as well. There’d be no getting hair off his trousers anyway.

“Go get that blighter of yours,” He said, gently prodding the cat towards where Arthur would be.

Then the cat squealed; there was a crash. Flicking the kettle off, he shot through the doorway. Arthur was in the pose of a mariner on rough seas, ready to spring into movement in any direction depending on the chop of the vessel. Two broken bowls were on the floor, and the soup was slopped everywhere. He looked like he’d been in his grave for a week, all colour lost, bloodless lips moving silently, eyes fixed. There was no wound, no blood. Finally, he glanced up. A moment later, he collapsed against his brother, suddenly sympathetic.

There before them, semi-opaque right through the kitchen table heaped with spring seedlings and mail like a marble pillar, was their mother. Her red hair braided away from her face, her golden brooches clasping her blue and fur mantel over the greens and browns of her clothes. The empty scabbard of the sword he held in trust dangling from the belt at her hip. As they had buried her, she appeared at the altar at the mouth of her burial barrow and now here, in the kitchen.

“Mam?” he asked.

“My sons.” Her translucent green eyes danced in the slant of sunlight, and she looked so happy. Arthur had lost millennia in moments, his eyes rounder in his face than they’d been in centuries as he took unsteady steps forward.

“Mother?” His voice was so uncertain.

“Hello, little one.”

On the rare occasion where Arthur accompanied them to the barrows on Samhain, he’d had weeks to prepare himself and usually had one of his children in his arms. This was a shield against his guilt, against the boy he’d once been. Her mouth opened, and her words were as wind.

“Yan has passed between worlds he should not have."

And then she was gone, and all was as it had been, save the broken bowls on the floor.

“Mum?” Arthur was still transfixed.

Arthur's phone suddenly rang, breaking the spell that had enveloped them. Arthur remained transfixed momentarily, his gaze fixed on where their mother had floated, before slowly reaching for his phone.

“Did that–” Rhys could barely hear him over the ringing.

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

“Rhys–”

“I’m putting the bloody kettle on.”

“Fine.” He glared, slid his thumb to take the call and collapsed in a chair, putting his phone on speaker.

"Something's wrong," Matthew's voice echoed, tinny and hysterical. “Something’s wrong.”

He dumped water into the kettle, hands trembling, guts suddenly water as he heard the distress. Arthur dragged a hand down his face.

“What’s happened to your brother?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. But I can’t feel him. I just woke up and I can’t sense him. He’s supposed to be up on the ISS, but I can still sense him when he's up there, but I can’t... Dad, I can’t feel him.”

Rhys glanced at the clock. Ah, it’d be the very early morning there.

“Matthew, breathe.” Arthur said like he wasn’t this close to hyperventilating.

“I’m breathing!” Matthew snapped. “I’m breathing, I’m about to puke, and then I’m getting the first flight to D.C. and finding my fucking brother. You'd better meet me, or Arlington is going to need a fucking expansion.”

#hws england #hws america #hws wales #hws brittania #hws mama brittania #hws canada #my writing || cacoethes scribendi #arthur || stone set in the silver sea #Rhys || my word for heaven was not yours #matthew || my country is winter #the dangeld axe to grind: the viking age time travel au

[anathemafiction]

My Valentine

Alessa walks like an arrow, eyes facing forward, face closed, and lips thinned. She doesn't stump because her steps are too nimble, but people instinctually get out of the way as they see her marching down the street. 

You sit at the edge of a broken pillar, basking in the late afternoon sun when she comes into your peripheral vision. You turn your chin to smile at her, but when you see her striding as if she marches for war, your smile turns into a grin. 

"Alessa," you greet when she comes to a stop beside you. "Let me guess, someone dared to laugh in your presence?"

Alessa's blue eyes fix on yours, and you have to hold in a chuckle at the ice cracking within. "What nonsense are you spewing now?" 

"What happened?"

"Why must something have had to happen?"

You gesture in her general direction. 

She presses her lips even tighter together. "Nothing has transpired," she says coldly and then stops. Alessa stands there, rigid and stiff and... almost awkward. You cock your head, studying her. Something is odd. 

"Alessa," you say, voice lower as you scoot closer to her in your seat. Her eyes shift to the side, avoiding yours. "Did something happen? Are you alright?"

You reach a hand to hers and find it cold. 

"I..." Alessa inhales, and now her fingers welcome yours. You intertwine your hands together. She still avoids your eyes, however, even as she steps closer. "I have something for you."

That has your eyebrows shooting up. "What?"

"'Tis... a gift," Alessa elaborates, her voice a whisper. You lean forward to make sure you can hear her. "It is costumery to... give a gift on this day."

Her hair falls over her face, but it can't hide the light red on the top of her cheeks. You stand up so you can brush it away. You let your fingers roam her cheek, and then you gently pull her chin up. Alessa lifts it, eyes finally locking on yours with an almost daring edge. You smile at the sight. She is so beautiful. "You have a gift for me?" you ask, lips turning at the corners.

(...) 

Alain turns over on the bed, his bare chest glistening and curls sticking to his forehead. "I'm spent," he declares, flopping down on the mattress. The noble has a lazy grin, but his eyes can barely stay open, the brown almost dark in the shadows of the night.

You smile and crawl closer to him. Alain lifts his arm so you can snuggle underneath it. "Already? You've been drinking too much wine, Alain. You're getting slow," you say with a sly smile. Your hand wanders over his chest, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat.

"Are you trying to insult my ego?" Alain asks in a drawl. You can hear the sleep in his voice. "Because I... can I answer in the morrow? I can't think of anything witty right now."

You chuckle and press your cheek to the bend of his shoulder. His hand loops around your waist, bringing you closer as your own eyelids start to sting. "Hmm, I suppose I can let this go," you mumble. Sleep does sound good. "Just this once."

"This once," Alain echoes. And you close your eyes and plunge into the sweet depths of slumber. Outside, it's cold, but in Alain's bed, bare body wrapped with his, you couldn't be warmer. More comfortable. You sink down with a ghost of a satisfied smile, your muscles relaxed, and faint ripples of pleasure slowly and gently coating your nerves.

You're so warm. So—

Cold.

You shiver and crack your eyes open to meet a pale, morning light. The sun barely slips from the window, and a chill meets your skin before the bed's cover falls over you again. "Alain?"

He's halfway to the door, putting on a green robe, but your voice has him freezing. The noble stays in place for a moment, but then, very slowly, he looks back. "Did I wake you?" he asks. You can't make out his face in the low light, just shadows.

You frown. "Were you trying to leave?"

Alain pauses. "Yes."

There's a stab of hurt, but you push it away. "Oh," you say and look to the side. It's fine. You don't—

There's a box next to your pillow.

(...)

"Open your hand."

She gruffs out the command, but Neia doesn't wait for you to follow it. A large hand grabs your wrist and squeezes until your fingers spread in five directions. "Ouch," you protest, although it didn't really hurt. Neia can be rough, but she never crosses the threshold into pain. At least, not when it comes to you.

You've always marveled at how much control she has over her own strength. 

"Stop whining," Neia commands again, and drops something in your palm. 

She lets go of you, leaning her back on the wall with crossed arms over her chest. You lift an eyebrow, purposely not looking at the long, odd-shaped object you're holding. "Can't you give things like a normal person?" you ask her. 

Neia frowns and looks to the side. "Is normal what you want from me?" she gruffs. And you almost find endearing the way she clenches her jaw and refuses to acknowledge you. "Because you're bound for disappointment, sweetling."

You chuckle. "You can be so dramatic, Neia."

The ex-Inquisitor turns her chin to give you a piercing glare. In the past, in another life, it would freeze the blood in your veins. Right now, it only makes you laugh louder. "Just fucking look at it."

You do. 

(...)

Lance has your hand in his.

"And this one," he says, pointing at the deepest line that crosses the middle of your palm. "Is the lifeline. It shows how long your life will be."

You cock your head at it. "Doesn't seem very long."

Lance shakes his head, blue hair swinging from side to side. "Ah, no, no, do not be deceived. Do you see this?" His nail travels along the lifeline, curving around your palm until it merges with your wrist. "It keeps going, my mercenary. Look, it thins here, but over here it deepens again and—" At this point, Lance has your arm lifted in the air as his fingers go down your forearm to your elbow. "I find it here still! You'll have a long life indeed."

You can't help but laugh. "I don't think that's how it works, Lance," you say. His fingers massage your elbow, always so nimble, always so quick.

"Please. I have a great knowledge of palm reading," Lance retorts. He's smiling, truly smiling, and it makes his grey eyes seem so light, they look blue. "It is honestly quite insulting to be doubted."

It's your turn to shake your head. "Oh, really? Great knowledge, do you? And where have you acquired it?"

"I saw a reading not once but twice."

You laugh, and Lance rewards you with a proud smile. His gold tooth stands out amongst the others, and as it captures your gaze, you fail to notice Lance's quick fingers reaching for something in his vest pocket. In a flash, both his hands are on your arm again, and now he starts to drag them down towards your own. "There is yet another important line in our palms," he says.

You lift an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Lance hums and turns your palm up. "Its reading was the most sought-after in all the two sessions I've seen. To be honest, I think most young ladies attending only cared about this one — and the young men too, mind you, but those tried to pretend they did not. Life, wealth, fortune... they all paled next to this line."

"Do share."

His pointer finger follows the line stretching across your hand directly under the fingers. "It is called the love line," Lance reveals. "And yours is unlike any I've seen before."

(...)

The entire pieces are available on Patreon!

Part One — Hadrian, Alessa, Alain, Ysabella

Part Two — The Pirate King, Neia, Lance, Rafael

#Alessa #Alain #Lance #Neia #patreon #The Golden Rose #I know valentine's day has gone but... #xD

[p-r-art]

The Half Hashira Teil 1

In the end, make the decision how to proceed. Write it in the comments.

Have fun !!

"Oh, who are these cute boys?"

My giggle penetrated the silent night. The moon was shining brightly once again, illuminating everything in a large circle. My (e/c) eyes watched the troupe of three men. But there was still something unusual about them.

The box of the boy with the red hair and the green coat smelled different. Almost as if there was a demon in there.

"This is getting more and more interesting."

I held my right arm in front of my mouth so as not to giggle too loudly, as I didn't want to give myself away just yet. Although I actually knew exactly who they were. After all, the Hashira were talking very excitedly about them and every demon knew about this group.

Me too, of course, even though I was forbidden by Kagaya to get involved. But I find it far too exciting and funny for that. And I don't want Tengen to bother me again with the only question he has for me.

"Tanjiro what's wrong?"

The blond-haired man asked. My thoughts were drawn straight back to the situation in front of me. The red-haired Tanjiro was sniffing the air the whole time. Well, it took him a long time to discover me. I moved out of my hiding place from the branch of a tall tree. I held on to my big straw hat with my left hand so that it wouldn't fall off my head when I jumped.Since the three, well four, weren't that far away, I landed right in front of them.

"Who are you?!"

The third boy with the boar mask pointed his sword directly at me.

-Okay, that's not how it should go-

A drop of sweat formed on my forehead and a somewhat comical smile formed on my lips.I quickly raised both hands up to show that I meant them no harm.

"Please, please. I belong to the Hashira. Not in the direct sense, but I belong to you."

I rattled off as quickly as I could. I could see that they were all clearly relaxing. Now I could take a closer look at the three of them and realized that they were all clearly taller than me.

-That's very good, especially for ....(Y/N) you should stop thinking so perversely. Get to know them first hihihi-

The boy with the boar mask still wanted to fight me because he was still pointing his swords at me.

"FIGHT ME!!!"

and with that he charged at me.I immediately dodged to the left without getting hit by his swords. It went on like this for a short while. He kept running at me but I just dodged without really exerting myself. Meanwhile, the boar boy was already totally exhausted and panting to himself.

"May I introduce myself then?"

I asked once everyone had calmed down.

"Well, I am (Y/N) Tsugikuni. As I said, I belong to the Hashira, but I'm not necessarily a pillar. Kagaya is my master, but I don't necessarily listen to what he tells me."

I bowed to them as I said this. Tanjiro kept coming towards me. his soft features, the red eyes that had no hint of mischievousness in them and those soft-looking lips. Even with the scar on his forehead, he looked like a very compassionate person. His outfit, with the green coat and the beautiful kimono underneath, made me fantasize a little.

"I'm Tanjiro Kamado, I'm pleased to meet you (Y/N). But you're not human, are you?"

his voice is so calm that I want to listen to him all the time.

"N-"

"YOU ARE AN ANGEL!!!!! PLEASE MARRY ME!!!!"

sequel follows....

#Anime #Manga #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #x reader #tanjiro kamado #rengoku x reader #tengen x reader #muzan x reader #demon slayer akaza

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very interesting 2004 mansion in Sugar Land, Texas. 7bds, 9ba, $6.995M + $181mo. HOA fee.

I'm already confused standing in the entrance hall. In the middle are floor to ceiling flat, as opposed to round, columns in brown amongst all the white. There's also a Mezzanine with some very squiggly lines.

Beyond the entrance is a large sitting room facing the pool. There's squiggly art on the ceiling, plus neon lights and a fireplace.

Moving along from the sitting room is a bridge and what looks like a simulated pond w/"stones." On a round, raised island sits a piano. The walls are painted with gray and white curves and there's a view of the pool.

The curves and waves are giving me the feel of a sand & sea theme. In this bath, the tub is surrounded by a sandy looking surround and in the shower it looks like bubbles are rising up from the floor.

The dining room set matches the ceiling art, but it looks lost in the huge space.

Check out this blue kitchen. Even the exhaust hood is wavy.

Where do you even find cabinets like this? They must be custom made.

The home gym is pretty standard- indoor/outdoor carpet, mirrors, TV, and a neon tray ceiling.

Judging by the shelving and fireplace, this is either meant to be a library or just a den displaying an art collection.

Here's an interesting bath. That granite pillar appears to have the sink faucet coming out of the side. Wow, a glass sink top.

The rec room has a club atmosphere in red and black.

This is quite an extensive bar.

Behind the bar is a wine cellar with 2 big coolers and a tasting room.

Now, let's go to the cinema. Wow, we're just in the entrance. There appears to be a ticket sales mannequin in the box office, with a lighted marquee above.

We're in the lobby of the cinema. There's a snack bar and seating.

And, here we are in the theater.

Here's a lounge.

And, the guest restroom.

But that was the cinema. This is a stage for live performances.

Guests can wander out to a covered patio. I'm guessing that the round wall is the back of the stage, closed. It also opens to this outdoor area, as it appears inside.

A colorful bedroom? Art gallery?

And a very colorful bath.

I think that this is the primary bedroom.

And the primary en-suite.

A modern desk and cabinetry in the home office or is it another kitchen? This house is so confusing.

The pool faces a golf course.

The home is on a 1.33 acre lot.

And, you can see the golf course along the back.

#mansions #modern mansions #artsy architecture #houses #house tours #home tour

[eobardthawneallen]

@frattweek Prompt: Father

so what if Matt was a demon and Frank a priest, and he wanted to exorcise the demon but needs first to learn his true name and taking advantage that the infernal creature has taken some liking to him maybe he gets to find it if flirts a bit, surely he won't develop feeling for such damned creature ;3c

also maybe Matt is a fallen angel that fell for loving humans way too much, also didn't learn a thing from that and keeps loving humans a lot, he is not very interested in demon things but he just found a very interesting human 💕

[ID of first image:

In a chibi style an American shot drawing of Priest!Frank and Demon!Matt Frank tries to turn on altar candles but Matt is blowing off the candles. On one hand Frank hold the match stick, the other is the matches box, Frank is not amused staring at Matt,Frank is wearing a black cassock with a rosary by his hip.

Matt is behind him, with closed eyes and a inverted 3 mouth to show he is blowing at the candles, he has red horns, pointy ears, and a red tail that twist in a point making a heart also has red cartoony bat wings. his hands are on Frank, one on his shoulder and other on his arm. he is dressed in some kind of red tunic, it has turtle neck, open by the sides at the hips height (though on this image only one is showed), the tunic has decorative belts (one connected to what is a boot kinda sock not fully shown), he has a light blue angel bell by the wrist, which is a little sphere.

background is a church, is mostly gray, square floor, a pillar with XI on it, the altar is not very defined is just a white statue that looks like praying, probably a virgin Mary, has flowers in front the statue then followed by white candles turned off.

END ID of the first image]

[ID of the second image:

again a drawing in chibi style, this time a full shot, there are again Priest! Frank and Demon! Matt, but now they're in a confession booth, Frank is sitting on a wood chair with a little smile directed at Matt, he is grabbing Matt's knee. Matt is sitting over Frank's lap, he has his eyes closed a smile with mouth open showing some fangs, he has his arms on Frank's neck and shoulder, touching his face with the thumb. he also has his tail around one of Frank's legs.

Matt has a text bubble that reads "Forgive me Father for I'm about to sin", Frank has a text bubble that reads "That's not how it works"

END ID]

#frattweek #fratt #marvel #matt murdock #frank castle #my art