#and THATS because she is his BIRTH MOTHER. she gave him LIFE and he knows it and loves her and lets her treat him like a baby

[spooky-bunnys]

Diabolik Lovers x Vampire Knight Crossover

Arranged Marriage

If there was one thing the Sakamaki brothers could agree on. It was that the favorite brother was (Name). Sakamaki (Name) was the oldest Sakamaki brother. But sadly he was also the shortest. Which he got teased for constantly. (Name) was the child between Karl and a Vampire Princess of a different clan. Sadly she didn't survive the birthing.

But even though (Name) didn't really have anyone to raise him since his father's wives didn't care for him. (Name) always cared for his little brothers. He raised them and gave them love he wishes someone would've given him. He would always play with them and protect them from their so called mothers. (Name) even with his short height was always in control of his powers.

If he wanted to he could even take down his father. Thats how strong and in control he is. But (Name) never cared for fame or power. He only cared for his brothers. Which lead him to this part of his life. "No way!" yelled Subaru punching the coffee table in the living room. Their so called "Father" had came to visit. Which didn't fool any of them. They knew what his visits meant. They just didn't know what to expect when he visits.

(Name) was surrounded by his brothers frozen. "As much as I hate to admit it. But I agree with Subaru. I won't let you marry Aniki off like some princess." Laito stood behind him massaging (Name)'s shoulders. Trying to get their brother back down to earth. "The pervert is right! Oresama won't let you give Aniki away so easily!" Ayato yelled standing in beside the chair (Name) occupied.

Reji sighed pushing up his glasses. "Just what are you planning?" Karl was smirking. Sitting across from them on the couch. Behaving like it was his throne. "It's not up to you boys whether or not (Name) marries the Kuran boy. It had already been decided ages ago." (Name) couldn't wrap his head around what was going on. His father was selling him off as if he was cattle...Shu who saw the heart broken look on his brothers face turned.

Glaring at the smirking Vampire King. "You don't get to decided it either old man. Aniki is more powerful then you. He decides whether or not he'll marry the guy." Karl's smirk turned into a frown. He growled but then smirked even bigger then before. "But I know he'll agree especially to it. Especially since he knows what I'll do if he doesn't." The brothers flinched at the statement. The younger Sakamaki brothers knew exactly where he was going with this conversation.

"(Name) if you don't marry him I can't promise the safety of your brothers." (Name) stiffened before shooting a glare so dark it sent shivers down the others shoulders. Karl knew his brothers were his weakness. (Name) cared more for his brothers then he cared about himself. It'd always been that way. (Name) frowned deeply before he slowly stood. The brothers stiffened ready to attack if signaled.

"You bastard!" (Name) yelled his eyes boiling with anger. "You're always using them against me. Because you know if it weren't for them I'd have killed you years ago." He growled. Kanato knowing his brothers anger level was rising softly grabbed the back of his shirt. Lightly tugging it. (Name) forced himself to calm down. He didn't want anything to happen to them. "I'll marry him. On one condition." Karl laughed thinking he won.

"Deal. Now whats the condition?" (Name) and the brothers smirked. "Where I go" (Name) opened his arms and the brothers stood surrounding him. "We go." The brothers spoke making Karl smirk drop into a deep frown. "You can't do that!" (Name) laughed. "You already agreed! So when are we leaving?" Karl glared at them. "The wedding is in 4 months. You leave in two weeks."

Within the two weeks many things happened. Their father tried sending them a bride. Thinking the brothers would change their minds but luckily for them where they were going she could join. It was the night before they leave and (Name) was packing up his last few things. He looked around the room and frowned. It wasn't that he was gonna miss the place. He was just going to miss the good memories he had in it.

Like when each of his brothers were born. When he taught them to walk and talk. When he saved Ayato from drowning. Or when he saved Laito from being traumatized by his so called mother. God (Name) wishes he could resurrect her and just watch her burn all over again. That bitch had almost killed him on multiple acutions. Though it wasn't out of love. She thought he was in her way of being powerful.

(Name) smirked. Jokes on her she didn't even realize how she walked into their uncles trap before she died. He never loved her. Nobody did. They just liked how powerful her family was. (Name) shook his head removing the negative thoughts before leaving his room. When he made it to the full dining room he noticed how happy everyone was.

Well. (Name) turned to the pale bride who looked absolutely terrified. He sighed and took the place at the head of the table. The seat his brothers had carved his name in surprisingly. "Alright." He spoke gaining their attention. "Is everyone ready to go to Cross Academy?" The brothers nodded and he turned to the only female. "What about you, Yui? Have you finished packing or do you need help?"

She quietly shook her head. "N-No! I'm good." She looked like a trembling leaf. (Name) ran a hand down his face. He was only trying to help. Since she'd arrive all the brothers except him had drinken from her. He guesses she's waiting for him to "strike" as the humans called it. "Yui. You don't have to worry about me trying to drink from you. I don't drink from brides. It's seen as intimate in my mother's family."

She looked confused. "See my mother was a Princess from a strong Pureblood clan. In her clan drinking blood, especially from one's neck is seen as something only loved ones should do. Like husband and wife." Yui nodded slightly relieved. Though she couldn't help but wonder how he survived then if he didn't drink from the brides. "I've only drank from my brothers anyways." Her face grew hot at the thought.

"Oi! Pancake it's not like that kind of drink!" Ayato immediately cleared her thinking. "We'd let him drink from our wrists. It's seen as a more familiar kind of way. The neck is for spouses, while wrists are for siblings and parents. Damn your just as bad as the pervert over there!" Laito whined telling Ayato he was being unfair.

(Name) chuckled. Causing the others to slightly smile. They didn't know what was gonna happen when they arrive at Cross Academy. But one thing they agreed on was to stay by (Name)'s side. Not to let his fiancée think he could walk all over their brother. They wouldn't let that happen.

At Cross Academy Kaname had just gotten a letter informing him of his upcoming "guests". He was currently informing his followers of what was happening. "So I'd like your helping in welcoming them." The others just stared. Kaname was getting married? To someone he doesn't even know?!

"B-But lord Kaname! I don't understand why they are coming here! They're life style is the opposite of what you worked so hard for!" Kain groaned loudly at his cousin's antics. Ruka soon joined in. Complaining that he shouldn't be forced into an arranged marriage. "Oh but I didn't tell you the best part did I?" The smile on Kaname's face sent shivers down their spines. "My fiancee is the Vampire King's Eldest son. Sakamaki (Name)."

Pure silence was all that was heard. Kaname stood letter in hand walking towards the Moon Dorm entrance. "I'll be needing to inform the chairman of our "special" guests." Once Kaname was out of their sight the student slowly look at each other. The Vampire King was sending his sons here? Their Lord Kaname was being married to Sakamaki (Name)? They all shivered looks of absolute terror on their faces.

They know how powerful not only the king is but according to rumors. (Name) suppresses his father power by well a lot. "What are we going to do?!" Ruka was panicking. The ruler of their kind was sending his children to their school and they couldn't do anything about it. They looked out the windows surrounding them. They hope (Name) isn't power hungry or manipulative like his father.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I imagine the Jade Emperor is feeling very, Very Stupid for thinking Wukong's claims of needing those layers of immortality was just an excuse after he gets the report that Wukong gave birth to a healthy baby boy, literally named 'Little Heaven,' only to very nearly die in the process, something no immortal thought was even possible when they consider how many layers of stolen immortality Wukong had. Like, Wukong had the most outrageous claim that was proven true within his own throne room and by his own wife, and now he's in his personal infirmary (Queen Mother insisted after helping Wukong give birth, she gets very attached because of course she does, its MK) just barely hanging onto life. Needless to say, the trial is postponed. Macaque refuses to be separated from Wukong or their cub until Wukong wakes up, which means no mobilizing the army until Wukong is awake, especially since they've confirmed that the same restrained used to keep Wukong down all those centuries ago simply will not work with Macaque.

By all rights, that cub should have been an orphan, and it was only by the sheer audacity, stubborness, and thousands of years of work put through by his parents that he has both Wukong and Macaque to watch over him. Wukong had been right, something nobody outside of his family and friends can really comprehend.

referencing Wukong having the Century Stone Egg in the middle of Heavenly Court + Wukong getting KO'd by it.

The Jade Emperor is feeling Stupid with a capitial S.

The Queen Mother is furious with her husband for not believing Wukong's claim about his reasons for immortality, but also angry with herself for not recognising that the monkey had gone into labor in her own palace. Had she'd known centuries ago that Wukong had wanted to safely have a child, she may have been able to help him with his goal, and would have forgiven the theft of her divine Peaches far earlier.

Plus, the "Little Heaven" is the cutest little furball anyone in the palace has seen in centuries. And if the Queen Mother has been caught cooing over the little cub no bigger than her thumb, then thats her business.

Lao Tzu is monitoring and documenting *everything*; weights, movements, heart rates, blood samples, anything that could give him knowledge of Wukong and the baby's conditon, but also give insight to what he and Gold Star know about Stone Monkeys. It's like having a unicorn at a vets, he can't not be excited!

The Peach Maidens visit Wukong and the baby with prayers of health and of luck. They were the very few in Heaven that suspected their attendant brother had stolen the Peaches for reasons other than gluttony. They're all super bummed out to see him in his deep sleep, and help to change his bedding and apply medicines to give his mate and found family a break.

Macaque is a bit of a gloomy mess at this point. Jumping between a silent vigil over Wukong's sleeping body, or performing a whole shadow play for their newborn cub as a bedtime story. Xiaotian truly is a little piece of Heaven for him, and he understands fully why Wukong risked and sacrificed so much for the chance to meet them.

The reincarnation/noodle shop gang are extremely supportive during this time, finally having a chance to get to know Macaque outside of their less-than-ideal meeting. Tang keeps the shadow monkey busy by telling him stories (fact-checked by Wukong himself) of the Monkey King's journeys after the couple's last meeting. Sandy teaches him ways to relax during these rough times. And Pigsy hasn't let Mac go without a meal since he got there (how the pig got into the royal kitchen, they'll never know).

The Ao Longs are very solemn during this time too. They nearly lost Mei when her egg came early, and they're super protective of Wukong and his baby while the monkey is unconcious. Little Mei met Xiaotian for the first time a few days after he was born, and hasn't lost the enchanted look in her eyes since.

Redson acts out by head-butting any stranger that comes near Wukongs' room, including celestial guards, noblemen, servants, and even his own (unknowning) divine grandparents. He declares The Monkey King and the baby under his protection! Secretly though, he curls up to Wukong at times and whispers not to "go back to long-sleep again" since it would make his Mama and Uncle Mac sad. :(

Wukong finally wakes up after a couple of days, and is overjoyed to awaken to see him and his baby both alive and well. His "Little Heaven" truly is worth all those centuries of planning <3

[voidwritesstuff]

The Stars have names.

(Part 1) A/N: this is a proof of concept for an original series of mine.Originally it was going to be a youtube series, but after writing this im not sure if thats the format i want to go with. Anyway,ill post this here and be done with breaking the immersion (if everything goes well, I'll post the other parts) Cw:abusive household, abusive parents, cults,body horror,religious imagery and pregnancy imagery.

>reblogs appreciated and encouraged.

I don't know if posting this here is a good idea, but I've realized I'm only putting people in more danger if I keep this to myself. My name isn't important,I know I’ll join them eventually, and by then I will have lost my sense of self. But let's get the main bits of information on the table. I’ve known my friend Orion for most of my life, he is originally from the town of Cometa, to this day he’s never told me where this town is,but I get the feeling I'll find out soon enough. 

That should've been the first red flag. One I never recognized until recently.

The second red flag was a little more subtle. He's always been enthusiastic about sharing his knowledge of space,it was his special interest and I always listened because I wanted to be a good friend. It was the way he spoke about it though,there was a casual, almost personal tone to the way he talked about stars, but especially about the planets.

“I know you’ll think it's silly, but they have real names. Not the ones we gave them, Venus,mars,saturn…It's hard to explain,My mom’s better at it but she isn't allowed to talk about it”

When I asked why she wasn't allowed to talk about it, Orion would shrug and say it was “grown up stuff” and he stopped mentioning it as we grew older.I didn't notice it when we were teenagers, I thought he had “grown out” of it somehow.

How wrong i was. How so very wrong I was.

I was supposed to go to Cometa town next summer, Orion was spending the holidays with me and my family, and before he left he had given me one of many manuscripts from the church his town has. I told him I wasn't interested in religion,but he begged me to read them, and I wanted to be a good friend- He's heard me ramble about every single character I found hot many times throughout our friendship,so I figured I could give in and read it.

After all, it's just religious text, isn't it? I remember sitting down one morning,we were snowed in and the sky was dark- I’ve never seen clouds so thick… And yet somehow one single ray of sunlight spilt into my room. It was unusually warm when I extended my hand towards it, and just as I was about to begin reading the lights went out.

Didn't think too much of it, it snowed like crazy, so there I went to sit on the sunny spot in my room for some proper light. The shadows seemed so much darker then, but I just took it as my eyes getting used to the ridiculous amount of light I was being exposed to. 

Isn't it crazy how much we deny odd things that happen to us? The text started as any religious text often does,with a long shpeel of poetic words, but then it turned into a journal. There are no dates, so god only knows when this happened-But it does seem quite modern for…Well you’ll see. I’ve also gone and added numbers to each part, it was hard when I first read it- and hey if you're going to go down a spiral of madness then at least I'll leave some road signs,I'm on my way out anyway. Consider this red flag number three, and your one and only warning to stop.

“ 

Church of Santa Madre de Luz Divina

Tale of Mother Sun. 

The stars have names

Not ones that mortals can utter.

Not in any language that you may speak or invent.

For these gods,us your makers, speak in tongues of divine creation,

destruction, light and darkness, that which lies beyond your minds

Broken from the ties of the planets that birthed us.

You behold my light,the one of your mother.

Of the supernova that gave birth to humans.And may the Harvester, though forgotten in time, 

come to reap your souls.

Only then shall you know the names of your gods. 

It may not look like it

But we have a plan for you.

[Entry 1] I had that dream again. I was floating in darkness for hours,days,millenia…There was nothing around me- I knew there wasn't anything for miles and miles. And then…light. Blinding light,searing heat that oddly enough didn't hurt my skin.

 I could only see things zooming past me, I could feel eons going by in the blink of an eye.

The darkness wasn't empty anymore,there were thousands upon thousands of little lights.I realized then, i was in space. But I didn't feel cold, I didn't lack oxygen. 

In a way, i breathed with the universe. I could feel the pulse of supernovas, of black holes eating and eating the darkness and turning it into,or taking it into, something I couldn't comprehend or fathom to.

Frozen in time, I couldn't move back or forth, to and fro, I simply floated and watched the existence around me begin to circle me. 

Yet it wasnt me,not me specifically. I turned to look behind me, because before me there was nothing- Like a sunflower bending to the light above.

And i woke up. 

The therapist said moving would help,that Cometa Town was perfect for someone like me. I want to trust Dawn’s word, she lived there most of her life before moving to Argentina. I guess she outgrew that town,i can relate to that

 Dawn had also said that these dreams meant that I was too stressed, feeling like the world was coming undone around me. And she wasn't wrong, after that fight with my dad i couldn't stand being around him. Piece of shit.I don't understand why my mom still thinks I should make up with him. I don't understand how she can still forgive him even after everything, he threw eggs at our door,he had threatened to beat up his parents,my grandparents, and back when they were still together he would argue with her until she couldn't stomach it anymore and puke.

I don't want to end up like her, compelled to forgive and live beside someone who has sucked away all life from me just because I seek acceptance.

Mom promised that Cometa town is nice,and i trust her word,or i try to- But i know she wouldn't’ve moved so far away,countries away, if this town did not speak spanish,she never puts in the effort to do something difficult.

Lord knows there are days where she makes me feel like a burden,every time i talk to her it feels like she’s ignoring me. All the praise I get usually are just one worded responses,an adjective she throws at me without looking up from her phone…

And as much as I try to hate her,I can't. In a way she’s still my mother, I spent months in her stomach,growing. It makes me wonder if I had not been born a month before I was supposed to,would she pay attention to me? Of course it’s a silly claim,but almost after twenty years of being left aside, I’m starting to grasp at straws.

I guess Dawn was right,I need to get some fresh air-I doubt i’ll get a break anyway, i still don't have enough money to move away. Still, here I go. Goodbye Argentina,Hello Cometa.

[Entry 2]

I fell asleep on the plane,no dreams, only peaceful rest… But I have to admit that it felt odd,like a part of me was missing. I felt so cold when I woke up,I usually feel cozy. Maybe it's just the AC of the plane…

Either way,I called dibs on the seat next to the window. I can see the clouds. It gives me vertigo, but in a fun way-Like I could be flying through the clouds like i was the sun… That image gave me peace, hope. It makes me excited to get to my new home,hang up all my posters and paraphernalia. 

I may even find a group of people to play D&D with on the weekends…

Maybe this extreme move is going to help.

[Entry 3] Cometa town is so pretty, gardens and gardens of flowers,there are parks with weekly fairs! It's good to know mom will have a place to sell her clothes, and I won't go hungry. I understand now why the therapist recommended this place- Aside from having a university of arts (with a career in film, How lucky!) And it has a cool name too: “Cosmos University of the Arts”.

 i will miss Dawn though- maybe i can find a replacement here? I don't know if it'll be the same…fingers crossed? Oh! and The sunset here was just as beautiful too, i can actually see the stars here. I begged my mom to eat dinner outside by the sunflower garden we have and she accepted. No TV,no background sound,just me and her…it's nice.

It would be nicer if she didn't call me by my deadname,though. I’ve told her plenty of times I go by Nova now, but hey- she still doesn't believe im bi,let alone accept I change my pronouns often, so maybe i'm just asking her for the wrong things.

But a new home,a new place, the same old sky… Maybe I should keep that in mind instead.

[Entry 4] Well, the dream came back.

But it's longer now, different. 

I saw that same darkness, that same explosion of light, but now when I turned I saw the sun (I expected it,it's the only thing that made sense). I expected the light to burn my eyes, but it didn't. Dream logic? I don't know.

Aside from actually being able to see what's behind me,I noticed something there, growing. Like a seed, looking for something,writhing. The sun was only a shell for whatever was growing in there. Yknow what it reminded me of? A baby, growing in the womb of her mother,kicking and feeling out the warm home she finds herself in. There was no better place for her, I was sure of it, I could almost picture what she looked like. 

Body made of divine light, elegant hands that have the opportunity to create,to destroy, I dare say even…artistic. The art of bringing beautiful things to life, the willpower to destroy the imperfections,the mistakes, even if it means throwing out a whole art piece and start from scratch

She's adorned with pure gold that glimmers like endless stars, clothes made of the softest fabrics the world could offer.

Yet..i couldn't see her face, it was either hidden from view or just consuming my whole range of sight. 

massive, she was massive, and i was about the size of a vein.

I saw her,whatever she was, take me in her hands and lay me to rest on her chest. I beat her heartbeat, I ate of her blood…it gave me such a rush. I felt..unstoppable, I felt myself breaking out of the shell I forced myself into just so I wouldn't get into trouble,that I would not be hit with my mother’s glare of disappointment that I don't fit her standards for “Being born a woman”.

When I woke up I felt…dizzy, I felt something churning in my stomach,my forehead felt too warm and it throbbed in a way that made me light headed,the sunlight that was falling on my face had this sparkle to it. 

Mom came over to ask me if I was alright,it was probably around mid-day when I woke up,which meant that lunch would be done soon and that she was waiting for me. I told her I felt ill and I wondered what had I eaten the night before for me to feel like my body was organizing a mutiny against me. And then I turned to my nightstand, saw my sketchbook opened and stained with chocolate from the wrapper I had tossed on it carelessly the night before.

. . . I need to stop eating sweets before going to bed.

[entry 5]

The dream’s been on my mind as of late, so I've tried to push it to the side by signing up for Cometa town’s university. I thought the bureaucracy was going to be endless,thankfully it wasn't- It was quite easy honestly, just asked for my personal data like name,birth date, ID and the like, it even had a “Preferred name” box i could fill up- It made me happy to know i wouldn't have to use my deadname. 

Aside from that I've tried to distract myself by walking around the town, it has a very low crime rate so my mom’s not worried about letting me wander off. It's a nice change from the constant fear of being robbed i had back in Argentina, doesn't mean I don't miss my home though. I miss it terribly,but there's not much I can do but to wait for winter break to visit them again (well,it's winter break for the town- back home it's a ripe,ripe summer. I'll be cooking my ass off while the town lives it up in the snow,lucky)

But back to the walk i took, i wrote down a few places i’d like to visit next time The mall (obviously, it has a bunch of stores,fast food restaurants and even an observatory- I’d say it's a weird addition to the mall but i don't complain, i really like seeing the stars), Also the parks it has to offer, the town center and the one thing that caught my attention  the most was this church- I wouldn't know the exact architecture style, but its grand,well decorated and so,so tall and old. I think I saw a telescope peeking out from one of the windows in the main tower. 

Hopefully I can visit it soon? Maybe tomorrow will be fun. 

[entry 6] After lunch I went to the church, the place was mostly empty (i figured, i mean i did go right after i finished eating lunch) and honestly it made it all the more personal. Hell,even the priest wasn't there roaming around and doing whatever priests do.

But I did meet someone there, they had male features, a chiseled face, olive eyes and pretty reddish brown skin. They were dressed in goth clothes (and fashionably so) so it didn't surprise me to see them at the church.

 And in my ogling I noticed their jacket was packed full of patches, I could see the one on the right side of his arm, it read “Still a planet” With an embroidered image of Pluto. I couldn't help but snicker at it They introduced themself as Callum,they looked at me like I was some sort of long lost friend  and asked me if I was new around town. I told them that I was and that I had moved in just a few days ago. I could notice the slight hispanic accent in their voice and I asked them if they spoke any Spanish, they said yes and we got to talking in my mother tongue. 

It made me happy to know they liked my vest, I couldn't help but think that a punk and a goth went hand in hand. Both appeal to the darker side of the world, for them it was the macabre,the things that go bump in the night. And for me, it was all about how the system was always against you,how the world seems to orchestrate in a way that no matter what you do, you’ll always be on the wrong side of things. Damned if you do,damned if you don’t.

Callum was fun to talk to,I appreciated that since I haven't been able to meet my neighbors yet. I mean I just got here,but I wish I had someone else to talk to that isn’t my mom or includes me sending a text to my friends back in Argentina. 

Here's one of the conversations I had with my new “Acquaintance”  (translated from english to spanish to keep my privacy. wouldn't be surprised if i left it open some day and my mom reads it out of curiosity):

“So..Why visit the church of all places?” they had asked me as we entered the large cathedral

“Well just getting to see the town really, but i saw it and i knew i had to enter and at least take a peek- I like making art, and i was hoping to draw some of the things around the place” “You make art? that's cool” They smiled with this child-like excitement “I make murals, i go to the university here” “Dude no way,I signed up for the studies in film career!”

“Then we’ll see each other more often, that's good” We introduced each other properly then, they told me about their family and I told them why i moved away- I skipped a few details because i couldn't exactly just drop the fact that i had to move because my father was a manipulative piece of shit. 

When we got to the altar section, I hadn't noticed until then that the Vitraux behind the pedestal were not of God or Jesus, instead they were of these massive beings of cosmic light. 

And right in front of me was her.

Being of divine light, hands extended towards me, holding the world in their palms, her face got lost in the bright burst of light portrayed on the glass. Shades of red,orange and yellow spilled across my face and in my half blinded state I could swear I saw bright eyes staring back at me. It made me jump back out of reflex, i blinked the light away and turned to see if Callum had seen me embarrass myself like that- 

But they weren't. 

They were staring at another vitraux, a being of pure darkness and ice, candles of blue flame serving as shoulder pieces with their melted wax with gold jewelry over its shroud. And in the center of their chest,like a ribcage, stood the alchemical symbol for Pluto. Underneath it was a simple plaque that read “The Harvester” It gave me the idea to see the plaque beside it, “Father moon”. Above it stood a vitraux of a male figure with a shawl of stars, a crown of night and time on his bursting face of moonlight. He was holding his hands close to his chest where the alchemical symbol for the moon stood carved in pale gray as he grasped an old sun clock.

Out of curiosity I looked back at the one in front of me, I could still see The Harvester and Father Moon in the corner of my left eye. The plaque underneath the divine lady of sunlight read “Mother Sun”

“You’ve seen ‘em too?” Callum asked out of nowhere, I jumped from my spot as if I was broken from a trance. They looked at me with what seemed like fear and utter dread.

“Excuse you?” They pointed at the vitraux i was looking at “Her,You've seen her” With how they looked at me, i knew lying wouldn't do me any good “Yeah” I Had replied with a slight tremble in my voice “I have” My eyes couldn't meet theirs, I was too ashamed and startled. In my avoidance I noticed that Callum’s jacket had an embroidered patch of Mictecacihuatl, the lady of the dead in Aztec mythology.

“How?” they asked,sounding adamant that they get an answer.

“dreams, you?” something in me pushed me to answer,even if i felt like their question was a little too weird and out of pocket “same” 

I blinked at the sordid nature of it. How could I dream of something that I have never seen before? But before I could question that bitch of an existential crisis,We heard shuffling steps from behind us, we turned to see a priest- Old,old man with a wrinkled face, dark black eyes that gleamed with..satisfaction? “May I help you with something?” The old man asked, His voice raspy and with a warmth that felt too unnatural- Like he's trying to overcompensate. I raised my brows in surprise,his voice sounding so familiar, like I heard it in a distant dream.

“No” Callum sounded harsh, they took my bicep and began tugging me along out of the Church,but before they left my sight i read the two other plaques beside Mother sun: “Sister star” and “The Oracle” They didn't speak a word until we were well away from the church, they sat me down at a bench and looked at me like somebody had died. 

“I thought there was enough of us already” They whispered, afraid that the trees would grow ears and listen “What?” “There's 3 more others just like you, like us.-Probably more” “Callum, you're not making any sense” “Listen to me,Nova. The stars have names”[entry 7] I came back home late after that, Callum insisted on walking me home and we did so in silence. It felt uncomfortable, like the lack of literally any spoken word was digging under my skin and getting into my bone marrow,expanding it uncomfortably. 

Before our weird ass conversation,I actually got along with Callum, like i’ve known them all my life or even well before that…It was odd but..comforting.They’re the first friend i've made since moving here.

They bid me goodbye with a kiss on the cheek, I didn't think too much of it since it's a common way to greet each other back in Argentina- Us latinos are a mixed bag of customs after all. 

As soon as I stepped in, My mom was up in arms about where I had been. She was cooking as she yelled at me for being out so late, I told her she needed to calm down and I reminded her about how Cometa town had almost no crime rate. 

She glared at me and told me i was just as irresponsible as my father, it made me so angry, it scorched me that she would compare me to my dad, only to turn around and tell me i should make peace with him- She still somehow believed that it was my fault that i fought with him, and not that he looked at me in the eye and said “You're the worst daughter a father could ask for”. It was a petty argument, i don't remember what we were fighting about anymore, In that moment,rage blinded me and I just wanted her to hurt, and before I could wallow my rage,she yelped and jumped away from the oven.She had burnt herself with the flame of the stove.

After that i went to my room, i was so mad and so,so tired. I am exhausted from having to dance on the edge of being a golden child and a scapegoat martyr. I would never be enough for her, and that was starting to dawn on me. 

I get that she was worried,that she feared something happened to me- But there are better ways to say so. It makes me sad she never seems to treat me like an actual human.

[Entry 8] I fell asleep as soon as I went to bed.I had consciously forgotten about Callum’s explanation, but a part of me didn't.

As i drifted endlessly on the edge of sleep, i remembered everything my new “Friend” had told me

“ Listen to me,Nova. The stars have names. Not the ones we gave them,Venus,Saturn,pluto. None of that bullshit. They are gods, born from the planets we know, they're only shells of shattered womb,they have no life in them.” “But there's life on earth” I had said “Because they needed a place for their servants to live. Thats us” “And why should I trust your words?” Callum seemed a little amused at my flabbergasted expression

They scoffed before continuing to talk “The whole town is in on it. They are a cult,im sure of it” “How do you even know this stuff?” “I moved here three years ago, my family and I had been practically chased off from our home in Mexico. The bosses of my parents had fired them, I suddenly became the worst student in my school and got kicked out. My buddy Byeol and Archie had been offered a scholarship to the university of this town- This very public university.  A scholarship.” they made a pause to steady themself, it felt like they were just word vomiting right now. “Did nothing weird happen to you before you came here?” They continued with a slight anger to them, not directed at me but at whatever was supposedly tugging the strings of this weird cultish plot. “Nothing that feels too much like a coincidence?” I remembered how Dawn had been raised here, how she said the homes here were really cheap,especially to immigrants.Something about a benefit from the state. At the time I doubted it, this country is as capitalist as it gets-Not to mention its clear distaste for non natives. But then we checked and it was an actual thing,so I didn't think too much of it since I just figured my biases had gotten the better of me. 

“How do you know this?” I asked.

“I know this because I saw it. In my dreams” They raised a finger before I could manage to retort “Let me ask you this, have you heard of any of the gods we saw at the church?” “No,but it could be a niche religion” “Okay then,what about your dreams?” Truth is I was ready to jump on the conspiracy bandwagon,Too soon? maybe. But my mind was looking for a reason to doubt all these good things in my life, a part of me wouldn’t let me accept the nice things that came to me. There is a reason I go to therapy after all.

“see?” Callum added,taking my silence as the answer they needed. “Why would you tell me this?” “Because you're the missing piece. I told you there’s more of us, my friends all had dreams with the gods we saw back there”They answered “I could see you were staring at Mother Sun, so that must be who you see in your dreams, am i mistaken?”I shook my head. “I don't know what they're planning”they continued,sure there was something else unraveling, “i don't know why they want us but it can't be good. This town is too perfect, it makes me sick. Nothing good can come from this,i can just feel it”

I sat there in silence and looked at the floor. I didn't know if I could believe them.A cult? really? And why was I the missing piece? “Then why don’t you leave” “We have nowhere to go, all the times I’ve tried to convince my family to get out something big like a promotion would happen and suddenly my word wasn’t enough”

My heart sank to my feet. ‘No matter what you do, the game is always rigged ’ I thought. “And you haven’t told them about all this?” “I did, but they say that it’s just a product of how our leave from Mexico unfolded”

They say that when you wear rose colored glasses,all red flags are just..flags. Me included, I felt like their whole speech just now was the ramblings of a madman. But they had just enough credibility to them that it made it hard for me to fully reject it.

I sat there in silence for a while,processing everything I had been told. I don’t know if Callum was staring at me,I completely zoned out for a few good minutes. All I could see was that goddess,I could feel her tugging at me somehow,she was eager. A sigh made me snap out of my thoughts, I looked up to see my companion’s face and for a moment I swear they looked incredibly gaunt “Sorry,I know it's a lot to dump on you” they had said with a soft voice and a meek look in their eyes.

“thats the understatement of the fucking century” They scoffed and offered to walk me home as compensation for the wild ride. They also gave me their phone number just in case.

And truth be told I was ready to leave it all behind and make a mental note to never talk to Callum again.

But then I had to fall asleep.

I found myself in the dark expanse again, I knew the drill of creation and destruction, worlds coming and going,and when I stood before the planets spinning around me, I started to notice something. Each planet had a massive crack in the middle, they were creaking and groaning with pain. I could hear their labored breathing as whatever was crawling out of them began to split their shells apart. Like tearing open the placenta that held them. The celestial bodies that house them scream in pain and agony, a horrible choir of death as beings of immense scale rise before me.That same man made of moonlight and time rose from the smallest natural satellite, he was the first one…

I saw him and the sun behind me dance in eternal bliss, with each step I could feel the ripples of space bending, breaking what remained of the planets that only followed the orbit of the giant,divine woman. Though I could never see their faces, there was no face to see. 

Or perhaps I was afraid of what I would behold if I stared at the sun for too long.

Mother Sun looked down upon me and I turned away. I could feel her burn a hole through my skull, only stopping when Venus splits open with a screeching choir,birthing a woman with the face of pure starlight, grand insectoid wings that flutter curiously. Then Neptune cracks open with a tidal wave, allowing a large female figure to slither out of it. She had past and future in her eyes- were those her eyes? her face was a gossamer shine that reflected fractals and fractals of what could be or had been. 

And long forgotten in time, Pluto is the last one to be born. Cold in the endless vacuum, creaking of bone against bone, feeding from the corpse of his mother, A shrouded figure stood impossibly tall, curling into itself. 

More were missing, I Knew that-She knew that. 

But I couldn't see the other planets from just how bright she shone in the black void. 

Unwilling to look at her, I tried my best to fight her. I wouldn't let her burn my eyes, I don't want to face whatever turned its wretched gaze upon me. I would rather be disintegrated into ash, because when she forced my head to snap to her, using her massive hand to twist me like a doll, I saw my face in her shine. 

I woke up screaming,tears falling down my cheeks before I managed to be conscious enough to let them flow. [Entry 9] My mom ran into my room,asking me if I was okay. I told her I had a nightmare, and that I'd be fine. I never talked about my dreams,so she wasn't surprised I didn't want to talk about it. She hung out with me in the kitchen as I made myself some tea. I didn't have the strength to look at her bandaged arm,did I cause that? When she saw me a lot calmer, she returned to sleep. And I decided I had to talk with Callum about all this. 

Before I knew it, I was sneaking out of the house and embarking on a midnight adventure with a person I just met, to talk about eldritch beings and horrors. Life really is the gift that keeps on giving.

They took me to a restaurant. “Nebula Dinner”,read the perfect, 50s style neon sign. By this point it's like the town wasn't even bothering to hide it…

“So..”They began once we sat down in the booth placed on one of the corners of the establishment “Do you believe me now?” I snarled at how smug they sounded “Yes” “Good,because it's only going to get worse”

“jeez, how sunny” They shrugged and put their forearms on the table,leaning in a little and using them as support “Tell me about the dream”. And tell them I did, I spared no detail, and it felt oddly nice to be able to share this with somebody other than my therapist. They listened attentively and even went so far as to hold my hand when I began tearing up again. “..why? why us?” I had asked with what little voice I had in me.

“Your guess is as good as mine”They replied, trying to sound nonchalant about it,but I could tell that in a sense, this was like reliving his own trauma. “Look, My dreams started a few months before I moved to Cometa, same with Archie,Byeol and Sammira. Tell me if that's not a cosmic coincidence” I flinched at the word “cosmic” and they apologized. 

To my credit, I did try to process everything I had heard. And I failed miserably at it. My brain ran itself in circles trying to reconcile with the idea that gods existed, and that for some damn reason I was suddenly chosen by one of them. 

I still couldn't shake off that feeling, like i was breathing alongside somebody, my head buzzed and i still felt like my brain felt like it was being pushed into two different directions. The images are so clear even when it had been just a few hours since I woke up.

A sigh left me as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes,I could have used some more rest-But the thought of having to face that thing again terrified me. “I like god do not play with dice” I quoted, hoping that one of my many vocal stims cheered me up. “And i do not believe in coincidence” They had finished, smiling at me “V for Vendetta”

“You know it?It's a bit old” “I have the compilation of the whole series back in my house,” They answered, clearly enthusiastic about it. “Hey,let me get you something to eat, my treat- We shouldn't be thinking about this without food in our stomachs” “It's like two am” They shrugged and said “Early breakfast,i guess” And I couldn't help myself and said “What about second breakfast?”“I don't think he knows about second breakfast,Pippin '' They answered without missing a beat, accent and all. Suddenly all the tension in the air dissipated as we both laughed,I shook my head at the absurdity of it all, and I gladly accepted the offer of food. 

Even though I knew there were a lot more things we needed to discuss, I let it pass by. I needed to feel normal again for a few minutes, and I wouldn't deny this moment.

Callum waved over one of the late night staff, Her name was Solana and she was Callum's older sister. They introduced me to her and we both ordered something to eat after she handed us the menu.

We spent the night talking about comics,movies and games. It felt nice to be a normal twenty something again.

[entry 10] Callum had spent the night at my house, they promised they would sneak off in the morning. It was sunday so my mom would leave to work at the fairs in one of the parks. They said they knew how hard it was to deal with these nightmares, and they wanted to keep me company through it all.

If I had not experienced the worst nightmare of my life, I would've said no. But I didn't want to spend this night alone, I didn't feel safe being on my own. I feel like these dreams will eat me whole, and I can begin to feel something crawling inside my chest already. 

When i woke up Callum was gone as they said they would, they had left me a text saying we could hang out later or grab lunch. My home didn't feel safe anymore,it felt like the sunlight was so bright it was eating away all the color,all the life my house had.I accepted their offer in a heartbeat, at least walking through the town I could forget and ignore the shifting shadows out of the corners of my eyes, and how uncomfortably familiar the sunlight felt on my skin, like it was trying to embrace the deepest part of me and for that it needed to tear and carve through my skin,my muscles and straight past my bones.

My new friend wasn't faring any better, they felt incredibly cold to the touch, they avoided being in the shade for too long and they had ripped off their patch about Pluto and we did not talk about our dreams,or what this “cult” might be up to. And it wasn't even out of worry that we could be eavesdropped upon. It was pure,sheer fear of what it would mean if just like the planets, something was growing inside of us. 

There was a pull underneath my skin, i could feel it writhe under my intestines,slithering and weaving itself through the pores of my sternum…And as much as i tried to push it away, it would only fade when during our walk we came across a second church,identical to the one we had seen on saturday. “Another one?” I asked confused

Callum nodded“To the other minor gods,Madame Jupiter,Sir Kaos,Professor Mercury and Saint Saturn”

“Those are weird ass names” I tried to joke,relieved that i suddenly felt like myself again “I didn't choose them” He chided “But yes,weird” “I'm kind of curious to see the inside” “That's how horror movies start. We’re latinos,we’re supposed to know better” They joked with a slight smirk

“Well i have some white in me,my grandma’s italian, I can be a bit stupid,as a treat” “If you die in there i'm not retrieving your body” “mean”

Making fun of it did help to ease the tension that had been growing like a weed inside of me.It felt like me and Callum had known each other our whole lives, that there was no need to put our words through a filter. I was going to tug them along to see the interior, but we saw one of the nuns come out from the church, she was looking down at the ground,minding her step. Then she looked at us for a few,long seconds and smiled wide. She raised her hand to wave at us, and we looked at eachother and promptly walked away. 

What disturbed me the most is that i felt like i knew her,I knew the sound of her voice even when i have never heard her speak. Just like the old priest I saw at the other cathedral. I felt like i had heard her call my name, which one i didn't know, it made me dizzy trying to figure it out and i was already dealing with feeling watched- Callum kept glancing back and i knew then i wasn't the only one that felt like that

Honestly,If i had not dreamt what i did,i would have chalked it up to paranoia…

But then I looked up straight at the sun. I expected the shine to burn my eyes,but it didn't. I had hoped I'd blind myself for a split second just to confirm something that wasn’t clawing at me at that moment.

Dread settled,my chest felt tight and I felt like the gold light that spilled across this world cupped my face and forced me to face its creator.

The sun was staring right back at me, beckoning me closer.

[entry 11] I woke up a few seconds after,I felt something cold against my back, hard like wood and somebody holding me. Slowly I blinked my eyes open and met the face of Callum, they looked concerned,sweaty, and I could see past them a gray ceiling of carved rock and stained glass.

“How are you?” They had asked,voice shaking.

“Im,..okay? what's up with you?” Before they replied, I heard a raspy, gravelly voice say “Ah,so good to see you're okay” The unnatural welcoming in this male voice made my bones uncomfortable, I felt them pushing against my joints trying to escape. I wanted to peel each strand of my muscles only to distract myself from it. 

There stands the priest we saw at the church with the vitraux of the main gods of this cursed pantheon, he opens his arms and says “Our Mother can be quite stern if she wants to, sorry for that. But i have the feeling you’ll soon grow on her” He made a pause,to then clear his throat “Sorry, I meant to say she’ll soon grow in you” 

I turned to Callum, who tried to put themself between me and the priest “Callum, what the hell is going on?” Callum turned back briefly to me, they pursed their lips and their eyes looked wild with their pupils as small as a dot “Remember how i said I didn't know what they were planning?” I nodded “...I have the feeling we’re about to find out”

The old priest smirked, his eyes glimmering like the ones of a predator “Don’t worry,we won't hurt you”

“You should hear him out” Came a woman’s voice I knew quite well. Dawn stood there in the same clothes I had seen her wear in our last session together,with a smile so big like she was a kid in a candy store. “I know it's hard to accept good things,especially with everything you’ve been through,but this community welcomes you,both of you, with open arms” She offered a hug,spreading her arms. Her face twitched as if it hurt to grin like that but she couldn't stop.

 It reminded me of how sometimes people would feel euphoria when experiencing something divine… We both began to hear multiple sets of steps,we’re surrounded by nuns,townsfolk. They all seem to revere us,and it dawns on me.

“After all, how dare we strike our own gods?”Finished the priest. They had handed me this journal,my journal, to write everything since my midnight meeting with Callum. They say that I had written their holy texts once before, and that they eagerly await the gospel of their mother…

I don't know why they returned me home,why keep up appearances? they had us at the church… 

But then in came my mom,all excited telling me about how she had a really good day at work, how she could give me some money to buy myself something pretty. I wouldn't put it past them to harm my mother if I told her about all this? Would she even believe me? Right now i can hear them outside my window, it's a gloomy day, rainy and horrible,almost pitch dark, they hide in the shadows, they are whispering and awing at my writing. Callum is here with me, just as scared as I am. 

“Why?” I ask out loud,hoping for an answer, and I get none. 

My mind drifted for a second to Callum,their family,their friends.

Friends..

Oh no, There's more like us.

More…vessels? seeds? What are we? Who the hell are we?

 I feel now the sun shining down on me. its warmth uncomfortably pressing under my skin,through tunnels already carved straight to my soul. I turn to Callum, they sit in the darkness at the edge of my bed,their back against the mattress, their head hung low. The hood of their jacket is pulled up, I can't see their face, and I don't think I'd see any if they turned to me. 

I can feel her crawling up my nerves,up my spine. My head feels dizzy and my face feels incredibly hot like I'm feverish. ‘You’re loved here,don’t you see?’She whispers ‘You won’t be ignored here, you won't be a scapegoat,a martyr. You can be that golden child, the saint you know you are’

Tears begin to fall down my face,staining the pages of the journal. She makes it sound so sweet. 

‘Finally you can rest. Why fight against the system?Why don’t you..we join it? we can change it together. We can make something out of ourselves’

I look at Callum, shivering and talking to themself under their breath. I can’t hear them,but I can see their breath condensate.

“I think we’ve known each other for a while” They finally said,soft voice barely carrying over the whispering horde outside.They offer their hand towards me as I hear the creaking of bone against bone, scraping like nails on a chalkboard. Their teeth clack together as if there's no gums,no tongue to soften the impact.I see that their fingers are thin and their skin is barely sticking to their bones.I take it,finding solace in their touch.

I don’t want to be alone. Not again, not ever again.

“We do,don't we?” I replied. 

Everything seems clearer now,like sunlight after a storm.

“Do you know my name?” “I think I do,do you know mine?” “i do” “it's good to see you again,Harvester” “it's good to bask in your radiance again,Mother Sun”

[entry 11]

“Church of Santa Madre de Luz Divina

“Heed my words oh servant

For my light will guide your path.

Like it always has during eons past.

I never left,for you still revolve around me

Even if my body hangs limp in the sky.

Like a child within my womb,you writhe and call for me.

Heed my words, you who have waited for our return…

The stars have names.

Not those you could even fathom to pronounce.

We have walked amongst you now.

We have lived what you have.

So welcome this new era.

Welcome us anew.No longer forgotten

And don't fret

for we have a plan for you”

[End of journal] I can see her, through the dark. The sky is looking back through the gloom.

Her light burns me.

My mother is calling. 

But I can't give in,not yet, not now. There's four more documents like this,I can transcribe them if any of you want to kamikaze yourself into insanity with me. I’ll be here waiting,patiently. Either way,I know now that no matter what I do, the sun is always watching me,the moon knows all my secrets and in the cold night outside I can see the harvester waiting for me, tapping on his scythe with his candles burning blue.

[tschulijulesjulie]

since my post about theomedes relationship to his sons is getting some attention, i also want to share my thoughts about Kastors and Damens mothers.

lets start with Hypermenestra. Theomedes seems to have genuinely loved her and it wasn’t a secret. the only obstacle was that her birth was too low for becoming queen, whereas Egeria could even trace her bloodline back to the old kings.

interestingly we don't know much else about her, except that she gave birth to Kastor 9 years before Damen was born - apparently to that time Egeria and Theomedes had already been married long enough and suffered enough miscarriages to make everyone think Egeria couldn't bring a child to term.

Curiously they still kept trying for another decade, which either is due to Egerias prominent position within Akielon royalty as a descendant of the old kings or to the fact that Theomedes actually liked her enough to keep trying

Interestingly, we don't know anything else about Hypermenestras fate. she seems to not have been at Theomedes deathbed (he told Kastor about his love for him and his mother), she also is listed as "from the past" in the index, which indicates that she might already be dead.

but when did she die? recently? did Damen know her?

that made me consider she might also have died shortly after Kastors birth. Then Egeria would have been the only "mother" (in a way) Kastor knew.

Egeria couldn't have her own children at that time, but we hear nothing about resentment towards Kastor. Instead the first 9 years of his life he was treated as the heir to the throne, which means Egeria would probably either have been acted indifferent towards him, or even taken him under her wings.

now consider, Hypermenestra dying when he was only a toddler (or younger) and Egeria actually treating him like her own son, because he was her husbands son and she had none of her own. (it also makes me think of Octavia, the sister of Augustus, who raised several of Marc Anthony's children alongside her own after his treason and death and therefore was painted as the roman ideal of motherhood.)

so if thats the case, Kastor would have considered Egeria as his own mother.

Now think about her death in childbirth and everything that was promised to him being given to Damen.

Damen didn’t only "steal" his right to the throne and his fathers favour, he took his mother away completely.

it would also add even another layer of tragedy, because not only did Kastor loose two mothers, he also lost any claim to the one he actually knew.

Theomedes telling him how much he loved Hypermenestra then turns into a cruel taunt for Kastor, because that's not the women he knew as his mother. it ceases to acknowledge his possible love for Egeria

[altocat]

As much as I love all the fleshing out of our boi (lil bit of a negative rant here) I dont really like how he was given an picture of his actual birth mother tbh

To me it kinda destroys the whole idea of Seph's uncertainty about her, how he never even saw his mother, never met her, never knew what she looked like, but only ever knew her "name", which is why when he meets "Mother" during the Nibelheim Incident years later, its such a big moment for him because thats what hes searched for his whole life, and now hes seeing "her" for the first time

Like I'm sure you can maybe find a way to change my mind since your pretty good at that stuff, but honestly Im not sure about this idea anyway (if they rlly wanted a photo, maybe it couldve been a very blurred photo of Lucrecia or Jenova or some Random Woman, but still im iffy on it)

Sorry for da ramble btw, I love your look into Sephiroth's character and I just wonder how you feel bout it

(my opinion plz dont be mad aaah)

No, no! That's all totally understandable.

I'm personally pretty split on the photo. On one hand, it's extremely on the nose and tbh I'd prefer if Seph was almost completely kept in the dark about his mother, rather than know what she looks like. I'd always been under the impression that he was completely kept in the dark. Now he at least has a kernel. And that can take away a lot of the punch.

That all said, I think the scene is more of a means of reminding casual fans that Sephiroth has some serious abandonment issues in relation to his mother. These are things I've been talking about for a long time, but the games are surprisingly meager when it comes to ever bringing them up. He has some serious mommy issues and always had. If it took an added scene with a photo to illustrate this to fans, good. That's fine.

It also adds a new layer of sadism in Hojo's upbringing of him. Hojo gave him the photo, but also completely lied and then refused to tell him anything. That's....incredibly evil. And messed up. Perhaps it shapes how Sephiroth sees Jenova. Perhaps it resembles Lucrecia to him. Or perhaps he thinks the photo is a complete lie by the time he finds things out, hence why Hojo never told him anything.

I don't think it breaks his backstory lore that much. It's more of a refresher to players that this child has been bereft of his mother since birth and is now fighting a war. Is it a bit clumsily handled? Yeah. And I can see some people really disliking this change. But it's not too much of a big deal for me. And hey, we got a new render of Lucrecia just in time for Rebirth. If Rebirth and Part 3 are set up as legitimate entries in the series, perhaps we will FINALLY get some Lucrecia-Sephiroth closure.

[marunalu]

Hey, idk if you talked about this, but I’ve been thinking something about the Inko Shimura theory. So far in the series, Izuku’s dad has been kept a secret for suspense purposes, right (cough cough DFO)?? Well, we also never never get to see Nana’s husband either which I found weird cause it is implied that her husband’s is the reason why she gave up Kotaro. I feel like Horikoshi could have totally drawn a panel where Nana finds her dead husband’s corpse. He draws Nana and Kotaro together but never her husband. Since Nana is the one working, her husband would have enough time to hang out with his family but it’s never shown. Could the reason because he has way too many of Inko’s features and Horikoshi doesn’t want the fans to connect the dots?? Sorry it got long

I mentioned nanas husband a few times in the past but never really put to much focus on him in my dfo or inko shimura metas, mostly because we know almost nothing about him (similar how we almost know nothing about hisashi).

While I dont talk much about him, I have my own theorys and just like you said I also think the reason why hori hasnt shown us what he looked like is because he will have some physical resemblance to inko and would readers give the chance to connect the dots way to soon.

If we look at kotaro for example we can see he comes a lot after his mother appearance wise. He pretty much looks like a male version of his mother. An interesting thing in mha is that usually all the characters look a lot like their mothers and only have some few traits of their fathers.

While I DO LIKE the inko shimura theory and believe in it, I have to say I dont think inko and nana have many similaritys even when inko was younger. The only thing they seem to have in common is a similar hair style and all might mentioning that for some reason inko reminds him of nana but cant really explain why (he says maybe its because of the hair but he is unsure). But like you said its still very possible that inko simply comes more after her father the same kotaro comes a lot after his mother.

I have the headcanon if izuku really didnt inherited his freckles from his father (when afo was younger), then he got them from his grandfather from his mothers side. Inkos hair is dark green in the anime (in the manga her hair color is not confirmed but I guess its the same) and her eyes are big and round, her face is round as well so all of that could come from her father. Since we know almost nothing about him its fun to speculate about what he looked like.

We dont know if nanas husband was a hero, stay at home dad or if he had an other job, we only know he was murdered. And while we dont have any confirmation yet, I think its not far fetched to say that he was most likely killed by afo. My personal headcanon is, he made afo believe that he is the current ofa owner to protect his family and to give nana time to flee with kotaro (and inko she was pregnant with at that time) and as soon as afo realized he was tricked he killed nanas husband, also as a warning towards her that the same thing could happen to her child(ren) if she doesnt give him ofa. Thats why she gave kotaro in foster care and why I think she left inko in an orphanage or the hospital (with her scarf, because inko wears an identical looking scarf like nanas at one point) after her birth.

All in all like you said its strange that hori still hasnt shown us nanas husband in at least a tiny flashback moment, despite that his death had apparently such a huge impact on her that she would stop to smile and only startet to do so again when a young all might became a part of her life. So yes I do feel like hori is deffinitetly trying to hide something about nanas husband, the same how he is hiding hisashis identity (which at this point is so damn obvious afo its mind blowing how some people can still deny it!)

[leovoid]

Hello. I was wondering if you read Naoki Urasawa's "Another Monster". If so, I had a question and I thought an analyst like you could give me your opinion about this.

So very little is stated about Kenzo's family in Another Monster. Let alone the mother.

Tenma's old friend said that it appeared as if Tenma was trying to isolate himself from his father and brothers, but what about his mom? It was said that she was harsh on him and favored her step-sons instead of her own flesh and blood, Kenzo, for no apparent reason. I don't get it. As a stepmother usually one would think they'd favor the child they gave birth to, so why would she so harsh on him and adamant to get rid of him? I know there's no definitive answer for this, but I would like to know people's theories about this. A theory I heard from someone else is that Kenzo might've been "too clingy to mommy", and another one said Kenzo reminded the mother about her ex-husband, but that kinda doesn't make sense because wouldn't the other siblings remind her of the father as well?

Let me know your thoughts, pleaseee

Thank you for the ask and I hope you're having a good day so far ^^ While I did read Another Monster, Its unfortunate to say that I can't really give you a satisfactory answer to the question due to the extremely limited information we have in regards to this. Kenzos mother preferring the stepsons over him for no apparent reason is all the details given to us, but I suppose I could theory craft here and try to rationalize the reasons... At the risk of sounding as if I advocate her behaviors, I believe it was due to how distant Tenma was towards not just his peers but his own family as well "Throughout his life in Japan he made very few friends and didn't forge strong bonds even with his own family, which is one of the reasons given by Dr. Takahashi to explain why Tenma came to Germany and never went back." - Monster Wikia As a child Tenma always stood out for being extremely bright and this caused his father to take deep pride in him, dedicating his hospital to soon be inherited by Tenma once he grows of age. I can only assume that due to this, a lot of attention from Tenmas father was soley on him and not the rest of his offsprings. Due to this I can only imagine that Tenmas mother had very little time to bond with Tenma due to the fathers infatuation of his talent. As such, this lead Tenmas brothers to be shunned and ignored, leaving the mother to be the only one relied on by her step sons while she could have felt Tenma had no need for her since her husband is so hyper-fixated on him. Because of this, I would believe there was a wedge between Tenma and his mother because of how little she has had an influence on his growth and their relationship as mother and son. Adding on to this, it doesn't help that Tenma is so disconnected from everyone purely by choice. Whatever his reasonings are, are factors that were not shown to us but thats another rabbit hole to go through It could just be his mother was a jealous bitch or something idk? LOL It could also be because Tenma for his entire life felt the expectations placed on his shoulders to be unfair and overbearing to what he actually strives to do in his life. It was mentioned that Tenma stood up against a teacher to defend a punishment taken too far by a fellow student, so I can only imagine that Tenma has an opinion of his own as to what injustices are. In an act of rebellion he went to Germany ON A WHIM, and worked in Eisler Memorial hospital where he wished to conduct his research on Alzheimers dementia. Now if we take a look at Monster the series, its clear that this research he dedicated his life to was thrown away from a motivation and purpose he set for himself when he saved Johan. To save all the lives he could, no matter who they are. I believe Tenma up to that point was operating in a rebellious phase towards the expectations put towards him by his father, where the first thing he heard was an opportunity of neuro surgery and decided to drop everything to pursue a goal given to him purely off inspiration whom he thought was written by Dr.Heinamann. Until he met Johan, Tenmas true purpose was given a stable foundation.

[prpletoast]

I MADE A DUDE!! A FUNNY DEMISEXUAL MILITARY TWUNK!!!!! (also; 'Draugr' is the Old Norse term for the undead, or just zombies)

Name: Keiser 'Draugr' (Lee) Hindenburg

Age: 24

Lore (+ extra info; including height):

Keiser's parents were based in Germany; his father, Paul Hindenburg, fell in love with his mother; a Norwegian woman named Åshild. They were married for two years; until the year 2000; Ashild gave birth to Keiser. He strikingly takes after his mother; other than his hair being a fairly darker blonde. In school; Keiser was learning both English and German; he also learned a bit of Old Norse from his mother! By the time he was 16; Germany was recruiting cadets for its military; due to a severe shortage. Due to how well he was growing; Keiser thought it wouldn't be a bad starting-job (He was already a shocking 5'11). However; he didn't know he'd be entitled to genetic modification.

By the time he was eighteen; the genetic modification he was thrust into boosted him into a mortifying 7'9. He grew a strong dislike for Germany after they did this to him, but what hurt the poor man the most was that everyone was scared of him; he was rather social growing up. There are some benefits to being a Super Soldier though! A fucking ridiculous level of stamina, endurance, strength, and a mortifying ability to survive severe conditions.

During his service; Keiser survived being shot 13 times (a good chunk of them being concentrated on the torso), having his throat slit open, and two concussions. The genetic modification made his stem-cells extremely strong; the healing began almost instantly. However; another funny quirk they gave him is that this regeneration required a high intake of protein. Which on the battlefield; was difficult to obtain.. So (unfortunately); Kaiser had to turn to cannibalism to regenerate from these injuries. The cannibalism he turned to (in order to survive), witnessing the few friends he made die, and the fact his mother died of cancer; while he was away, drove the lad insane. He had to go to the ol' nuthouse for a few months; so he'd recover enough to function, and that's how he earned the nickname 'Draugr'.

At 19; not long after he was released from the mental-hospital, he got a job at a lumber mill, and began saving to immigrate to America; for the sake of starting a new life. There was also a really good therapist there; who specializes in his issues. At age 20; he moved to America, and was immediately registered into therapy.

That's where he met his current girlfriend; his therapist, Annabelle Irene Johnson. She's a chubbier woman who has vitiligo (dark skin w light spots), basil green eyes, and puffy auburn hair.

Keiser has selective mutism, and when Annie found out about this, at their first session (she knows American Sign-language); the two of them communicated through sticky notes, and they grew to be great friends!

Annabelle genuinely liked Keiser; not just for how muscular he was, but she genuinely saw him as a good guy. But how hot his voice was (when he trusted her enough to speak) was just a bonus for her! She saw him as a good friend, but Keiser was already head-over-heels; because the last person who'd shown him kindness was his mother, and she died (practically) right after he left for war at 16.

They started officially dating when Keiser was 22, and Annabelle was 23. He was nervous as shit, and went Annabelle accepted his proposal; what was left of the skin on Keiser's face went BEAT RED, and he went non-verbal for a day or two.

also

do NOT let bro ramble about his gf.. he'll have you there for HOURS...

(I'll make a ref for Annie in a lil bit)

THATS SO CUTE!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! YOU GOTTA DM ME ON THIS OMLLLLLLLL

[teaforthotxxx]

Unpopular hot take: Kylie Jenner is a girl (who happens to be insanely rich) in her 20s who has been exploited by her family and media, groomed by so-called family friends and gave birth way too young. She has been blessed with a large amount of privilege that has allowed her to stay ignorant to the world and the damage that some of her actions (eg. Kylie lip challenge) has caused.

However, growing up in the spotlight while constantly being compared to her more successful sister (with a mother that acts more like a pr person than a mum) comes with so much self esteem issues, problematic beliefs and negative consequences.

So, can we just not hate on her for dating a guy thats age appropriate for once in her life. I’m not saying that Im a Timothee and Kylie stan because Im not. But, i just feel like needlessly hating on a 26 year old socialite who is dating an actor because she isn’t what people assumed he would like gives me the ick.

Also, I love Timmy I would give it all up for him etc. But, the boy isn’t the untouchable saint poet indie god that everyone makes him out to be. Yes, I think he is philosophical, has amazing fashion sense but I don’t know his personal interests and likes.

Either ways, just stop hating on stupid shit. Lets hate on more problematic stupid shit like Ashton Kutcher and Jonah Hill.

[thelandswemadeofpaper]

I promise I will develop more the Greek part of the crossover. Until then, try to read my mind pls, see more in the tag 'Lingwen'?

This...is more of a backstory?

Kurko, son of Kurma, was born in a rainy day. He was born the sixth son of the family in the same year as his half-brother, and six years before his sister's birth.

From the start, he was part of a doomed people, learning early to fear his own shadow and remain silent to avoid dire consequences. Rhun, once a proud land, now lies in ruins, its people crushed under the rule of a dark enemy, long deprived of hope.

Perhaps that's why he took such a liking to the sea—the only thing that remained uncorrupted, with its cold, blue waves and non-judgmental reflection.

He would spend hours in his boat or by the shores whenever he had free time, preferring to read the few books his family still had rather than cause trouble like many boys his age

It was during one of these moments by the water, where he often found solace from the tumultuous world he lived in, in the rhythmic sound of the waves and the solitude of the sea, that he first noticed her. It was like one of those elf stories from the West—except this time, a maiden emerged from the sea instead of the forest.

The young girl approached him as anyone would, with her blue colors and fish-like ears, swimming in the water as if she belonged there, calmly asking about his books. In his shock, he could do nothing but answer her.

Their meetings became frequent and did not go unnoticed. Eventually, Kurko's new friend ended up meeting his family. His brother was the first to find out. Vika followed him around, always too suspicious for his own good. The other boy was nearly beside himself, waving an oar around in a panic. Kurko had to intervene before it escalated. Despite the initial chaos, they eventually got along.

His little sister was easier to handle. Kurya was excited to have another girl in their group and to meet one of the 'fish people' from the distant island Old Haga had told her stories about. It took some time for Nerissa to explain that she had nothing to do with Numenor.

On the other hand, telling his mother and Lady Viya was a necessity. With winter approaching and Vika pointing out that magic might be their only hope for survival, it was crucial to inform them both.

Nerissa soon became a constant presence in their lives. Their first meeting was as simple as it could be, and Kurko, for the life of him, couldn’t understand what she saw in him that was worth approaching the fisherman.

"You have beautiful eyes. Maybe I just wanted to see them closer." That was the answer she gave him, a cheeky smile on her face. Kurya always told him that with the amount of time he talked while alone at sea, loudly voicing his thoughts, the sea might as well answer back.

Not that he complained about the help; Nerissa, despite her strange magic, was a welcome relief to the people struggling to obtain sustain from the harsh, tainted land.

But they could not hide their new found success forever. The clearer waters, better health, and greater food production wouldn’t go unnoticed for long—not with Kulthan's men watching the water tribes like hawks

His mother always told him to be careful around those men whenever they came to the village—'Keep your head down and avoid their gaze,' she would say. None of them seemed the least bit interested in him during their rare interactions, more focused on admiring their Western conquests or hunting wild animals around their camps.

And yet Kulthan dismissed his men's claims despite the rumors, the stoic man always skeptical of anything magical.

"It's rather foolish." Tenka scoffed. As one of the Shariah, she had different thoughts from many folk in both the West and the East. She knew better than to assume that the search for new discoveries was ever truly over.

Maybe thats because Kurko never paused to wonder about what exactly Nerissa was. The world he knows is small and limited, who was he to questions its unknow and undiscovered wonders? She claimed to be a river nymph and thats what she was.

Nerissa had told him she encountered Eldar before, which leaded to some unplesant assumption on their part that she was a Maia of Ulmo. The East however, does not know enought about Maiar and the Ainu to call her one of them, and she did not resemble any of the five old wizards wandering around Middle Earth

In the dead of the night, Kurko caught himself wondering if Nerissa had befriended the wrong man, for what could he, an Easterling, offer a being of the sea. He remembered the tales of the long-living sea lords, given an island by the gods themselves, and their ancestor, a half-elf blessed by a creature of the sea

Kurko suspected the Westerners might agree, as they had recently shown increased curiosity about the new wonders and affairs of Rhûn.

When asked about it, Nerissa let out a unlady-like snort. "You were born in dry land, raised above the surface, if I were to drag you underwater, you would drown. And yet, you dare claim kingship with the sea." Her lips curled. "How bold."

[haley-cassandra]

My mom has some audacity. And like, this ain’t got shit to do with my kid, so. But I was telling her about all these signs I feel like I’ve gotten from a specific member of my spirit team, that I’m largely ignoring, not because I don’t trust or believe in this specific member of my team, it’s just like. I’m good where I’m at right now, I do not want the person they keep trying to push me towards. I haven’t wanted that person in many many years, and I do not ever see myself wanting that person ever again. But I was telling my mom about it cause I was like “haha yea bro came with the fuck shit lmao” and she goes “I WANT THAT TOO! THATS WHAT I HOPE YOU DO TOO!” And like— first of all, rude. Like just fucking R U D E. Christopher already knows she doesn’t like him, but she doesn’t have to be this open about how much she wishes I was with someone else. I’m fucking sick of the shit. CAUSE NOT HER ALSO LITERALLY CALLING ME “ON ACCIDENT” AND THEN CUTTING ME OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF TALKING TO SAY “I GOT A [red beard McCringe] HUG TODAY” like. Good for you? Why’d you say it in that tone, bitch? Was I meant to be jealous? “Does that bother you?” That you hugged him? No. That you cut me off and said it how you said it? Very fukin much so. Like. Was it supposed to bother me, mother? Was I meant to be jealous about that shit? I don’t even want to be in the same room as him, and yet I still feel the need to over explain how much I don’t want him because I’m terrified of being misunderstood. Let me make it abundantly clear, spirit team member that keeps throwing those messages my way, I love you, I miss you, I appreciate your love and wisdom; he had a second chance, you were there. Not something I’m trying to ever revisit, not someone I ever want to or plan to peruse again.

The man I’m with is good to me, he makes me happy, he makes me laugh, he feels like home, I want to spend the rest of my life with him because I love him and he loves me, and he makes me feel loved. His patience is unmatched, I’ve gone through so many different mental health issues, done some awful things, at one point my therapist had me on different medication every other month trying to figure out what was the best one for me, he dealt with me and the side effects of taking the wrong medication during that process, I cheated on him in a manic episode, I also hung out with someone and didn’t tell him and then I got s/a’d because that person’s girlfriend’s babydaddy bailed on her so she couldn’t come hang out. And he stood beside me. He’s held me while I cried over everything from missing Connor and not being able to see him for a while to accidentally spilling my drink on my shirt; he’s held my hand through getting the repressed memories about my dad back, he’s talked me through those memories as best as he can and if I didn’t have him to talk to about those memories then I literally wouldn’t have anyone at all because I tried to talk to miranda and a couple other people and they just called me crazy and said I was trying to start shit because I’m mad. He was beside me through going no contact with my dad, stepmom, and grandma, and losing brynlee and grandpa and Miranda in the process. Hell, the man held my right leg as I gave birth to his child almost 4 and a half years ago. He’s not been perfect, he’s definitely made mistakes; so have I. We’ve grown together as people and I love him, I just love him, that’s all there is to it. I’d risk it all for that man. And will risk it all because these god damn signs that I need to break up with him and wait for captain crunchy socks to hit me up are becoming unignorable, and I’m kinda tired of it. And the way it’s got me like, if it can’t be Christopher just make it Andrew and not dollar tree Tyler Cheilders, makes me gag; like dear god just make it my closest friend in the world (other than Chris) if it can’t be Chris cause I don’t even want Ed Sheeran in my line of sight.

And like, I wouldn’t take these things I’m seeing and the cards I’m pulling and the songs I’m hearing as signs if it didn’t happen almost every day for almost a year. It’s been happening longer than that, but it’s been constantly happening daily for almost a year. Like I can’t sleep at night because when I close my eyes sometimes all I see is the passenger perspective of driving down a backroad. Thoughts of what could have been flood my mind for the first time in years, and it makes me want to throw up. My stomach is turning now at just the slightest inclination of theorizing about what could have been. And not because it makes me sad to think about, but because it makes me angry that I allowed him to lie to me the way he did that night, and then I also allowed him to vent to me about how unhappy he was, and now they look like the most perfect little family in the world and honestly I truly think they’re adorable together and that they have a beautiful family together; like, between the two of them I miss her. Losing her friendship like that hurt more than losing him ever did. Finding out from other people that they had been lying on my name and talking shit behind my back hurt more than losing him ever did. Shit, having to block Andrew over political disagreements hurts more than losing him ever did. Are we seeing the pattern here? So I would like to stop having the “Landlocked Blues by Bright Eyes” card literally thrown across the bed at me when I’m shuffling the cards I made, and I’d like to stop receiving messages in my tarot cards that I need to end my relationship with Christopher every time I get my cards out. Like. I mean what’s meant to happen will happen regardless of what I want or what anyone else wants, but it would be cooler if it could just not this time. Like. I’m tired of this grandpa. And it shouldn’t be too damn bad.

[scentedchildnacho]

I was right about british pakistan the university of California is with london so thats why without hospitality for pound your head worse then bitch customs beggers there may be only war in San Diego British colonialism won't leave....

Helicopters like black hawks drone ing sound bombs all the time and scary witchy fuckers everywhere

Its just to kill people here to afford European lifestyles.....

Londons cannot have a conscience to anyone here they have to pay their emigrationist

She was sitting and cutting her little black malteses hair with a children's sizzors down to turning him into a poodle..........and asked me if I had ever had animals....

So I said most animals around white people have to be understood as indigenous if you don't allow most of it a lot of country for a lot of activity it hurts itself and I cry when it's not taken care of....

They tried sometimes in cities to give us little black dogs and it's oh how perfect this little dog little compact dog for the city and they run and run and run and run and you have to watch them all the time or they run into things and

So we gave the little black dog to whites that wanted to be poor and country and then the little black dog went to charming circumstance

So then the golden retriever arrived big big golden retriever and that dog to us was just so calm and so good always there to hold your hand and just be a presence if upset just so calm to well babies and that was way better

My birth father mother was a little wife all sons much taller and bigger then herself....thats my grandmother's big it has to get big or

She asked me how I was doing this morning......so I said very very bad and apologized for the crowds they aren't city people and bring their rural manners here....

I was open minded about the largely pale populations in southern California at first....sure yea they are cosmetic areas and wealth and now I'm pretty sure it's the pale or tan that makes no acclimative or assimilative sense here

They kept attacking rural areas prostitutes like them do not practice in cities those are military base types

Their habits in cities are too masochistic in doesn't at all make sense here to be wearing Brazilian bikinis

They kept calling whites evil and rural areas asylums and people who call life dominance and submission and make the mother God are run from because of crop dusting killing fields....

I met a gay in Alaska who was suspiciously obeisant about sex work for admitting her orientation was actually gay and she was Connecticut also and it's not wanted to be stalked to be obeisant to a Jew conscription without serial killer charm their military serial killers and they don't want to practice necessary evils without the charm though

Its very boring ordinary here and without charm and it's not wanted

The golden retriever his spleen finally couldn't take that city and he passed away of old age and now we know about not being too separated from negro resistance activists

The Mississippi River they use to be bohemian's......and barge workers....and queens like melanctha so it's sense of segregated marriage only doesn't make any historical health sense....

The religion yes has always been modern but it's health science is not no....

Anyway I told her with the holiday they stalked the area with a multiplied population of girls and the prison over crowding problem is too suspicious of trying to kill the police so they just let the serial killers out proportionate to the amount of prostitutes around they called the board walk a Rowe

So all morning long after very hyper and excessive sex stimulation along the beach all morning the serial killers have then tortured us with tools...I've thought about if my migrantcy attracts the serial killers and it's the girl prostitutes I attract dike fuckers with a few cops from the jails but it's the girls that attract the ultra violent

It is just what to do with their people to reduce harm...carissa one girl a psychiatric serial killer was trying to murder in a ward....I tried to let her out so something else would populate her psychiatrists life and stop it from killing her and I've found out this constant torture with tools and machines happens if state terrorism may not have their people in captivity

Sort of like the aids boys you cannot take persians away from their doctoring

That's why i am still homeless my daddy character is a cop punisher and they would hit team me in somebodies house and bring their teams of queer dikes to rape me at the jail....my owner is scary as a county he is too scary to be in somebodies house

The girls it maybe is like gymnastics uhm they can't be taken away from their schools and their ultra violents have to be apart of their reform or betterment....or their owner tries to kill everyone if their not with them

That's why Winona la duke about homelessness I have to have indigenous settlements for male health from the military or in a house I don't have enough to combatants to keep jail militias away....

I cannot go to housing or counties.....they wouldn't let us into rural areas.....

Thats me with punisher counties.....I have tried to go to food justice and idle no more and have found out i was called white and if I do the British theories and care about them against invasion he can stop hurting me so badly

Uhm yes my transexual ally with the military just said she chose to be a woman and she obviously understands about apache that she should identify as Canadian and strictly say her people is dine now....and so I've been told very strictly to be Canadian about it and say I was white.....which doesn't really make civil sense these gov contracts were from Cubans and they don't w but if I do these very strict binaries that don't talk too much then he can better give my breeding and uniform needs and he doesn't have to call me a rude bitch and beat me so badly

The anti social YouTube....about no emotions....yea that also if she is called black and sent to feelings or french indigenous rights like growing power she would have to have feelings.......and anti social as a diagnosis could be very violent very anti repression so that also I have had to be very strictly beat up about taking care of black people are about Africa not indigenous European wars and they need africans for their physical care or their progressivisms aren't managed well......

I would call black latin and so inherently European but that will not be okay if it's European as an American empire of Africans they can have that but just giving them french stuff will not be okay for him and he will beat me up

It is the girls the conflict with sound and light and constant disturbance does sometimes stop if girls are around prostituting constant torture with tools

Herodotus the persians ever taken out of their confinement and he tries to kill everyone about their rape....

Its a really disgusting bulimic conflict too just sound rapes till you puke so someone used children for sex work over the holiday when it's you can all die of bulimia they used children over the holiday for sex work

[laylanatorseventeen]

It's obvious in every little line of this furry body that Raphael wishes he was an only child

[manjiropie]

Yessssss your request are open thank god 💖🙏😭

I've been thinking for this for a whole night, I swear this so called Haitani Brothers wont leave my mind. So can I request for Haitani brothers x big sister reader who protect them from their abusive father when they are little, and when they're grow up they make it their duty to protect their big sis, simply to say thats the kinda thing they could do to repay her. I just thought that haitani brother have a shitty toxic father, thats why they're so cruel and ruthless. Poor baby 😭

You can make it fluff or angst (pss the big sis ended up dying) anything you prefer it to be. Its also up to you if its gonna be hcs or scenario.

Thank you for letting me request honey boo! Love you and stay safe 💜💖🧡

I thank you for this. I loved writing it and I'm sorry for taking so long to do it. be aware of the warnings, tough topics ahead. lowercase indeed.

warnings: toxic household, physical & non graphic mentions of sexual abuse, violence, death, strong language, gun, child abuse

Until hell freezes over.

man. let me tell you, shit's never been easy in the Haitani household. you want to know why ? well, I'm the firstborn to two stupid and reckless people. my mother left us with our alcoholic daddy as soon as she gave birth to her third child– Rindou. Ran is the middle child, bless him. our father is a complete scum, he's never cared. when mother left, his bottles were his only company and no one else around was important.

I'm three years older than Ran and Rin, nevertheless we were inseparable growing up, like– inseparable.

our dad, like I said, has never showed empathy or 'love' like parents are supposed to. on the contrary, all he gave me were 'lessons'. beatings, to be exact. oh, I didn't cook dinner as he liked it? a punch. hold up, he spent the whole day out pissing himself and the house wasn't shining when he came back? he'd take off his belt. from a very young age I memorized every tiny movement of his and what they meant.

"your body is a masterpiece, you're a painting"

people preach self love out there. I must've been a really good painting growing up, purple and yellow and black bruises all over my body.

I'm a masterpiece of agony and torment.

I went through hell growing up. I was the main target for my father's punishments because I'd refuse to allow him a hand to lay on them. of course I wouldn't reason with my father, I was too scared to do that. instead, I would jump in when I saw him arguing with Rindou because he didn't have the best handwriting or when he'd shout at Ran just because he didn't know where my father's favorite boxes were.

I swore it myself to protect Ran and Rindou until hell freezes over.

"why don't you run away?" that's what my teacher said once when I was on my first year of school. why don't I run away? why didn't I? the opportunities to flee were countless. it'd be undemanding to go by myself and find someone far away that'd melt in pity and would take me in. but I had two younger siblings.

everytime I'd feel scared for my life, I'd run to my room and take Rin and Ran with me, sheltering them under the bed before father started his 'late night show' with me. the way their eyes would widen and tears start appearing in the corners made my legs fail and I'd hold their hands tight.

I remember one day that was one of the worst for me. I was eight while Ran was five and Rindou only four.

"Nothing bad will happen to you, okay? Not as long as I'm here." my voice harder than my thoughts, all I could think about was having them there and not let that man in.

Ran's eyes prickled with heavy tears. " What will he do to you?" he had asked. my tongue felt thick and I couldn't swallow. then Rindou's skinny hand pressed to my arm. I look at him and he's wearing an expression completely different than Ran's. once Ran was at the verge of tears, despair and fear, Rindou had his brows knit together and his small tired eyes looked at me fiercely.

" I hate daddy." he whispered and Ran wiped a tear out of his red cheek.

" I hate him, too."

~

but, you know, although we didn't have the best upbringing, every now and then I'd manage to sneak my little boys out of the house and provide them a little sample of what a normal childhood would taste like.

these are the few and only memories that I cherish of my life. these brisk moments where, somehow, we'd manage to forget about our fucked up dad.

" Come on, boys! The last one to get there is going to eat cold dinner!" we ran to the playground near the parking lot. I held my dress down as the autumn breeze hit my face and messed up with the hair. Ran was fast but not as fast as Rindou. that boy was something else. he was faster than both of us and he was the younger.

that day we had spent the whole noon in the slides and the swings. Ran fell and screwed up his knee, we'd have to find a way a hide that from dad, but at that moment we didn't care. all we cared about was ourselves.

I sat down to catch my breath and watched the two going up the ladder and then sliding down. I smiled to myself. it wasn't often I heard them laughing. I loved their little smiles. they never smiled in front of dad, though.

but lately I've been noticing that as we grow up, their eyes get sadder and their cheeks don't get that simple shade of faded pink and they don't even joke between themselves. have i failed? was this effort I've been putting all these years... in vain? it were minimum the times when the monster actually beat my brothers. so I guess that I succeeded. guess no matter how much I tried I couldn't change the ambience.

part II here! reblogs and likes help insanely. thank you <<3

[danniburgh]

Sins of the Flesh (priest!Dave York x f!reader)

Pairing: priest!Dave York x f!reader

Summary:  His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed. “Lord, have mercy on me.”

Word count: +10.9k

Warnings: religion! catholic religion to be precise, a lot A LOT of religious references and undertones (shot every time you find one lmao), age gap (around 15 years, reader is legal), smut, unprotected p in v, oral sex, breaking of celibacy vows!, catholic guilt, me making divine metaphors... i think thats it.

A/N: first of all this is all @asta-lily​’s fault, she asked why no one had turned this man into a priest and i said “ok ill do it” so i did it, she is to blame. also i wanna say thanks to the pocket wives that encouraged this creation, sorry my loves, this isnt as slutty as yall thought lmao, and thanks to @alliterative-albatross​ who gave me all the bible verses that shaped this story as well. and i wanna thank the creator of this playlist that i listened over and over while writing this, and yeah, sorry for this monstrosity, love you <3

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓

moodboard by @asta-lily

“So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin.”–James 4:12.

Sunday 1.

Like a piece in a puzzle.

That’s how you fit in.

There, sitting in the middle of a ten people polished wood bench, eyes on the four feet tall crucified Jesus on the wall above the altar, ready for the first sermon you were to hear after coming back home.

Home. That was the name.

That church felt like home.

You were enjoying sitting there, among the children you met a couple of hours earlier when you were introduced to them as their new catechesis teacher, breathing in and out the myrrh incense burning and invading the navel and your lungs, filling them with new energy, getting them ready to feel the love that you were sure was about to pour over you.

You heard your name behind you and you turned around to see Mrs. Stevens, one of your mother’s friends waving at you from two rows behind.

“Hi, honey!” she smiled at you and immediately you reciprocated “I heard you were in town, are you staying this time?”

You drowned a chuckle inside your chest and bit your lip, nodding. Just realizing you even had missed the venomous messages hidden behind the kind words mouthed by old catholic moms.

“Yes, Mrs. Stevens, I’m staying this time.” you replied, the woman lifted her hand a bit to the sky and you smirked to her.

“God bless, I bet your mom is delighted you’re here!” she muttered “I know she missed you terribly all those years you were in that school.”

“It’s called college, Mrs. Stevens,” you reminded the woman, and she rolled her eyes, making you chuckle softly again “but do not worry for my mama anymore, I graduated, I’m staying for good.” you told her, amused at the way she acted as if you staying at home was some godsend blessing.

The organ began to play on the upper balcony behind everyone and you saw two altar boys, carbon copy of each other, almost rushing their way to the altar, and behind them… Father Dave.

You smiled softly at the sight of him as he walked solemnly to the altar, his green chasuble flowing with the air and the movement, there was a thought you had all those years you were away from home because of school, always coming back to Father Dave York: the young priest that decided to stay in the first congregation he was sent to, the one that became a pillar to the community, the holy man that held the direct link to God and that gave you your first communion, the one you missed when you went to attend mass at the church near campus because no one gave the sermons like he did. For some reason, whenever you least expected, you thought of him.

You saw him putting his bible on top of the pressed cloth over the altar, kneel and kiss the center of it and cross himself. And then, after he closed his eyes and muttered a prayer to himself and to God, he opened his deep brown eyes and he looked at you.

“Let us pray.”

Your mouth dried when his deep timbered voice, with the help of a small microphone on his altar, wrapped the entire navel and you with it, he looked at you as he cleared his throat and he opened his arms to the sky, breaking eye contact with you.

“Lord, have mercy.” he murmured, and the congregation replied to his prayer as you struggled to find the air that had escaped your lungs.

As Father Dave guided the congregation through the sermon and through the prayers, all you could see was him.

In some way, there was something different about him you hadn’t noticed the last time you were there; you didn’t know if it was something about his deep voice as he recited the credo by muscle memory, the way he walked from one side of the sanctuarium to the other as he talked about the scripture or the way his hands wrapped around the chalice when one of the altar boys handed it to him as the organ echoed all around the navel, announcing the communion.

You stood up and walked to the back of the line and sighed as he lifted the wafer to the sky, and your eyes closed by themselves when he lifted the chalice and took a sip from the sacramental wine and locked your eyes on him as the line moved.

As soon as you were in front of him your lips parted and he smiled at you softly.

“The body of Christ.” he murmured, his deep brown eyes on yours as they filled with tears.

“Amen” and you opened your mouth.

He put the wined wafer between your lips and his thumb brushed with your chin, making your skin burn as you brought it inside of your mouth with your tongue and forced yourself to walk away from him.

As you returned to your seat with the gold cross that hung from your neck between your fingers and kneeled to pray for the forgiving of your sins, all you could think of was brown, deep eyes, and a soft, brief touch on your chin that burned more than the wax of a burning taper.

Dave felt it.

The way you looked at him throughout the entire service.

And it made him feel different.

When you rose from your seat to walk to the communion line, he saw the way your body moved, almost as if you were floating instead of walking.

He knew you were back, and his heart was happy you were finally home.

But he didn’t expect to see you so changed.

And he didn’t expect the way your eyes had made him feel.

Then you were in front of him, and he smiled because he remembered the first time he handed the body of Christ to you, years and years before.

And your eyes filled with tears as his breath hitched when your lips parted for him as he fed you the sacred soul of the savior.

God, have mercy.

His mind shouldn’t be on the new catechesis teacher as he cleaned the chalice after handing communion. His thoughts shouldn’t be on the young girl he knew for so long as he blessed the congregation and finished mass.

But you were different now. Something in you had changed.

Lord, have mercy on me. He thought as he entered the sacristy.

“Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy.”–Proverbs 28:13.

Sunday 2.

“Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.” Dave heard your voice next to him and felt the air leave from his lungs. Not you, please God, not you.

You had been avoiding Father Dave for almost the entire week.

And you felt guilty about it.

You couldn’t even look at him in the eyes and not think about those dreams you were having about him.

If God was all love and perfection, why was he tempting you with dreams of Father Dave, his own servant, touching you in places you got shivers from, warming your body with his own, putting his mouth on your skin as you repeated his name like it was the sanctus?

Holy, holy, holy.

Why was God putting inside your head the sins of the flesh you had already asked forgiveness for? Why was he making you desire a forbidden man? A man that was not to be perceived as a man but as the representation of him on earth.

That morning, when you walked into the church to impart the catechesis class, you saw Jesus on the cross and you saw him look at you. And you knew he knew.

All omnipresent, all omniscient, all omnipotent.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Almighty God why were you thinking about him so much?

And the resolution in your mind was asking for forgiveness, you needed to pay penitence for those thoughts you knew you did.

But were you really about to confess to the man you had been dreaming about that he was invading your every thought?

“It has been two weeks since my last confession.” you mumbled, playing with your cross over your neck, Dave breathed in deeply and intertwined his hands on his lap.

“What are your sins?” he asked, closing his eyes as he remembered his own.

Dave was always a man of faith. It was in him from birth. He had been taught and trained to not fall into any temptations and so far his life had been devoted and dedicated to God and only to God.

But your eyes and the way you saw him, and the way your eyes made him feel when they locked on his, had him spiraling down into decadence.

Sometimes, dedicating his life to the word of the Lord made him forget he was still a human, he was still a man.

He had needs.

And he was alright before your eyes. Before your holy eyes were on him.

He had dreamed of them; he had thought of them; he had imagined them when he was in the limbo between sleep and awakeness.

He had dreamed of your lips, of your lips on his skin, he had thought of those lips that just looked like they needed someone to wet them and bring them back to life; he had imagined those lips of yours in places of his body he swore never to use.

He had prayed for them to disappear; he had begged to his God to erase those thoughts of his mind and free them from the temptation that was incarnated in you, in your body, in your eyes that denied to see him when you were in the same room, in your hands as you moved them to teach the children, in your legs trapped in the tight denim of your jeans, in your lips as you smiled to everyone but him, in your entire being, just by existing.

But they had increased, like a tamed flame sprayed with gasoline. He had a fire in his chest, one that was spreading through him as he was closer to you.

He needed them gone; he had sworn to never look at a woman as an object of desire; he had sworn on his life and he had vowed his commitment.

But you were there, kneeling next to him, separated by the thinnest patterned panel, holding the matches and the fuel.

“I’ve been having… improper thoughts, father,” you whispered, closing your eyes and left your necklace alone, clutching your hands together as tight as you could, you felt the aura change and the air grow thicker between him and you, “about a man.”

Dave opened his eyes at your confession and frowned. A man?

He knew you could tell him whatever you wanted; he knew he wasn’t allowed to ask in for details; he knew he was only there functioning as a link for you to get absolved from your sins and you were a young woman granted of free will and enough time to ask for absolution but he wanted to know; he needed to know who that man was.

“He is ol–older than me,” he heard you mumble and his hands tightened their grip on each other “and I can’t have him, father, I–I’ve been having these thoughts about a forbidden man.”

Dave’s mind went reeling, and he didn’t understand why. He didn’t like to assume about the life of his congregation members, he never did, but you were talking to him, after he had been dreaming about you for days, after you two shared something about desiring another man. And he was angry. He wanted to know who. He wanted to know who was keeping your mind the same way you were keeping his.

“He keeps me up at night, thinking of him, that is,” you whispered “I’ve–Jesus,” you let out the air of your lungs and Dave breathed in deeply once more “I’ve touched myself thinking of him.” you said under your breath and Dave felt his chest tug and turn.

“Does this man… know what he is causing in you?” he muttered with a frown and heard you sigh.

“No, I don’t want him to.”

“Alright, child,” he replied after a few seconds, and made a grimace of disgust at the pet name. It felt wrong, and he felt dirty with the word on his mouth, “do you repent these sins?”

“Yes, father, I do.” you closed your eyes at his words and wanted, for once, to be brave and tell him he was the one roaming around your mind. But it wasn’t fair.

“Please, recite in silence the act of contrition,” he muttered to you and you obeyed, feeling your eyes fill with tears.

As he waited for you to finish, he did the same on his side of the confession box

I’m choosing to sin and failing to do good.

“Amen.” you said, and he murmured the word to the ceiling.

“I think the word you do for the church,” he started, and you wrinkled your nose at the thought of him knowing it was you “the devotion you have, and how you repent, you don’t need to pay penance,” he muttered separating his hands and putting two fingers on the edge of the patterned panel that separated the two of you “through the ministry of the church,” your breath hitched as he whispered the words to you, and you saw with teary eyes the shadow of his fingers on the panel “man God give you pardon and peace,” you bit your lip and unclutched your hands, lifting your fingers and pressing it to his as two heavy tears fell from your eyes.

Dave felt the pressure of your touch and felt his hand tremble.

“And I ab–absolve you from your sin.” he said under his breath, pressing back.

“Thank you, father.” you whispered, not moving your fingers. You could feel the warmth of his through it and for a few seconds, you could also feel his eyes on your face.

Dave was the one to break the contact first. Absentmindedly brushing his fingers on his stole as he saw the shadow of you move and get out of the confession box.

He sat there, thankful you were the only one that morning and thinking about what you had told him.

A man of God, a man of hope. He had hoped, even if it was a sin and even if it was forbidden by pure creed and vow, that you were feeling the same as he was.

For a moment, he wondered about those thoughts… Were you thinking about that lucky old man touching you? Were you thinking about that man kissing you? What did that man look like? He wanted to be that man; he wanted to be the one whose touch you desired; he wanted to be that man you thought of as you sneaked your hand inside your underwear at night and brought yourself to pleasure. He wanted to be the one whose kiss you yearned for as your sex ached for attention; he wanted to be the one whose fingers you imagined as your own were buried deep inside you.

He fisted the flesh of his thigh over his dress pants and forced himself to stop thinking of you like that.

Dave stayed inside the confession box for twenty minutes more, praying for forgiveness, as he had done every night since you had been back.

At service, he saw you further back on the benches and he tried not to sneak glances at you as you sat there with your precious eyes on the crucifix above him, avoiding him at all costs.

And at communion, he tried not to brush your soft skin with his fingers as he fed you the wined wafer, failing when his knuckle brushed your cheek, his chest deflating when he noticed the way your face quirked in pain when you muttered Amen at him. Dave tried not to make anything of the fact that you kneeled more time than anyone else on the congregation after receiving the communion.

And when the service was over and he was alone in the sacristy, he tried and failed to not think about your skin, your eyes, your hands and your lips all over his neglected body.

That sunday night Father Dave masturbated in the shower thinking about you with your fingers deep inside you as his mind imagined it was him you thought of when you touched yourself in the darkness of the night and prayed for forgiveness.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like that.

“Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul.”–1 Peter 2:11.

Sunday 3.

“Father, sh–shit,” you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning as your pointer and middle fingers circled your wet clit under the covers of your bed, your legs spread open, the soft cotton of the sheets grazing softly at your inner thighs as you imagined your fingers being one of Father Dave’s, as you imagined him next to you, with his arm above your head as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear and nibbled at your neck while his other hand played your clit like a master pianist. You imagined the hardness of his erection pressing patiently on the skin of your hip, wetting it with pre-semen, making your body burn with the feeling of his warm naked body beside you.

As your other hand played with your nipple you imagined his eyes taking you in, you imagined his lips on your skin, were they soft? you bet they were, and you bet as well his hand would be surprisingly rough for a priest.

“Jesus, fu–fuck.” the knot inside your lower belly exploded with the thought of him and his hand and his body and his lips and his priesthood and you came with a silent scream that made your ears ring for a few seconds and your legs tremble on the bed.

As you hazed out, ready to fall asleep again before your alarm went off to go to work at the church, you felt that familiar guilt cripple inside you and settle in your chest, warming up and leaning against your heart.

Dave was panting, he fisted his hand as he leaned on the tiled wall of his shower and his other hand moved desperately on his cock. The water was still warm, and he closed his eyes shut as he imagined it was your hand on him, giving him the pleasure he was seeking, as he imagined you were behind him, your lips brushing against the wet skin of his back, your free hand around his chest, gliding softly at his skin, making him whimper with your touch.

It was so early for him to be so hot over you again; it wasn’t good for him to give into these desires he had and had been praying so hard and so much to get rid of.

He didn't want to keep doing it and he surely didn’t feel good after it, but his body ached for you, his chest turned every time he thought about you, every time he saw you around the church, he felt the deepest, hottest desire for you and your hands and your body and he just couldn’t help it.

His hand gripped and pumped as fast as he could and he came with a silent groan, opening his eyes as he finished milking every drop of his seed and watched it mix with the shower water and go down the drain. Along with the decency and morality that was left inside him.

You heard your name being said, and you turned around as you finished picking up your things from the small desk you used to teach the catechism; you saw Mrs. Vega, the church custodian, a small, old lady that had known you forever, walking towards you.

“I’m sorry dear, but I want to ask you for something.” she said when you smiled at her.

“Of course, Mrs. Vega, what is it?” you put your small book inside your bag and hung it from your shoulders.

“You see, the little twins that help Father Dave are sick today,” you frowned at the mention of Father’s Dave name but let out a sad sigh at her statement, “and they can’t come help with the service, you’re the youngest of the teachers, could you do it?”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise and felt your stomach churn inside you at the thought of standing next to the altar for a whole service.

“Me?” you asked, your voice in a high pitch as Mrs. Vega reached for your arm and tugged you to walk out of the chapel and into the navel of the church.

“Yes, dear, remember only the youngest get to do it.” she obviated, pulling you with her to the transept and up two steps to the sanctuarium “you only need to hand him the communion things and the holy water, I will prepare everything for you.”

“Why don’t you do it?” you asked in a whisper, not daring to take a step further closer to the altar. Mrs. Vega turned to look at you, and she narrowed her eyes.

“Since when are you shy, girl?” she asked with a teasing smile “I remember you singing in that kiddie choir we used to have and doing it terribly,” you chuckled at the memory and bit your lip “it’s only until the boys get that bug they got out of them.” she palmed your arm, and you breathed in deeply.

You looked up at the crucified Jesus above the altar and silently begged him for anticipated forgiveness.

Dave almost cursed when he saw you standing next to the altar as he walked across the navel.

The thought of who would replace Bobby and Chris on their altar duties didn’t even cross his mind as he was more worried about praying for the boys and sending them some sweets and pleading for the cleansing of his soul after the incident on his shower earlier that morning.

As he stepped up to the sanctuarium your eyes locked on his and he noticed you lips parting when he nodded his chin once at you, he noticed the way you swallowed as you nodded back and for a brief second, his imagination ran wild and made him believe you felt the same way as he did about you.

Even if it was the wrongest thing to think about.

It was like torture.

An hour of torture.

You got to see him kneel behind the altar and kiss the white pressed cloth softly as he stood, as you wanted and wished to be the altar’s cloth he pressed his plump lips on, he crossed himself and you mimicked his movements. And for a brief fraction of a second, as he opened his arms to the sky, you saw him looking at you out of the corner of his eye. And his eyes burned in your skin, they made you feel like your chest was aflame.

The communion time arrived, and he turned to you as you grabbed the chalice with the wine, his eyes locked with yours and you felt them weigh heavy on your body.

Dave couldn't concentrate, he felt on his side the way you were looking at him. It was heavily distracting for him to have you there, in his space, so close to him.

His hands brushed yours when he took the chalice from you and he stood there for less than a second, his fingers on yours. His soft touch and warm skin made your lips tremble with the emotion that touching him gave you. You felt a shiver go up and down your spine and the small hairs of your nape rose as his hands trapped yours.

You caught your lip between your teeth as he broke the contact and you knew he noticed; he looked at your lip as you bit it, and you blushed under his and God’s gaze.

You watched him and he felt you observing him as he prepared the wafers and wined them inside the chalice.

Your throat knotted when he lifted the cup to the sky and you felt your mouth dry as he brought the rim to his lip and his neck strained while he took a sip of the sacramental wine.

Because of the closeness you could see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed the wine, you noticed a small drop of the crimson red liquid escape from his lips and the way he trapped it with his tongue settled deep inside your belly and leaked through your sex.

The pain of the greatest guilt you’ve ever felt in your short life appeared again and clawed its way inside your chest and to its now usual spot right next to your heart, you were struggling to keep your thoughts at bay; you were looking at Father Dave, right in front of you, doing what he dedicated his life to, and you were imagining him using his hands on your body instead of handling the instruments of the church.

Would he touch you like that? would he treat you with the same delicacy as he treated the body of Christ? would he caress you as softly as he did the chalice? would his mouth be warmed with your taste as it was by the wine he drank?

Dave turned to you and he saw you clutching your hands together, you walked towards him slowly, and he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you moved, almost as if air went through you, as if instead of giving steps your feet barely touched the floor because you were floating.

Everything slowed down, the music of the organ in the balcony, the prayers of the congregation, even the way he moved slowed down so he could focus on your face; on your sweet eyes, those that had brought into him the feeling of humanity, on your soft skin that had scorched his hand when he dared brushed his fingers on it, on your lips, those lips that he couldn’t pray out of his head.

He lifted his hand with the wined wafer, and even the way those holy lips of yours parted was slowed down.

Your eyes connected with his and Dave felt it in his body, deep inside his stomach, the temptation, the whispers of his mortal body as it reacted to your actions; he put the wafer between your lips delicately and pushed it inside your mouth, and then, as if by the grace of God in the heavens, you closed your mouth while he did it, and your lips wrapped softly around the pad of his finger as he pulled them away from you.

And just like that, the world started moving at its usual pace.

His skin tasted sweet. And you spent the rest of the service thinking about what other parts of him would taste like that.

Would his neck taste the same if you kissed it? would his chest feel like that if you nibbled on it? would his lips be that warm or would they be warmer?

Dave’s finger was burning.

He wanted to chop it off his hand just to stop feeling that flesh-eating guilt of enjoying your lips, your soft, warm lips around it, touching his skin, wetting it with the slick of your mouth.

After the service ended and Dave blessed the congregation, he saw you rush to the exit and he felt the sting of the guilt and the sadness. He wanted to talk to you and offer his apologies before you went home.

Sunday 4.

You weren’t there.

And Dave missed your eyes on him.

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”–Romans 12:1.

Sunday 5.

As soon as you walked into the church you felt the eyes of all omnipresent beings on your body. As if the desire that burned deep inside your body left marks all over your skin, that could be visible for all those that looked carefully enough.

You heard your name behind you and jumped slightly, startled. You turned around and felt your blood fall to your feet.

“Father Dave,” you muttered, more to help yourself acknowledge the fact that there he was, standing in front of you, out of habit, his white tab collar was the only piece of his attire that hinted the fact that he was a priest. You tried to control your body as you felt instantly that flame inside your chest beginning to spread.

“You weren’t here last week,” he said, hesitating to step closer to you “are you okay?”

You nodded a few times and bit your lip to stop it from trembling.

“Are you sure?” Father Dave asked, and you dropped your eyes to the floor and saw him give a couple of steps towards you, your breath hitched and your entire body began to shiver when you felt his hand on your arm “I’m sorry.” he whispered.

“What?” you looked up to see him and you could notice his pained quirk, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed and his lips… those lips you had spent all but two weeks imagining printing themselves and making marks on your skin, on a sad, downwards line.

“Can I please talk to you?” he said again in a whisper and you opened your mouth to reply, but only air came out, “please?”

His deep brown eyes were on yours and you felt your chest turn by the feeling of having him so close. You nodded, and he turned to the sides, as if he was making sure there was no one there, and guided you to the sacristy.

“What are you doing?” you asked, a bit altered when he opened the door and let you in first, followed you and closed the door behind him.

“I just needed to be alone with you for a minute,” he clarified, you let your eyes wander around the small space where he got ready every day for the services instead of letting them settle on him, because you knew being that close to him wouldn’t help your situation at all “I wanted to apologize.”

You frowned and looked at him. He had his back almost glued to the door and his hands together, his thumbs fidgeting with each other.

“Apologize for what?” you muttered, and he sighed.

“I’m–I make you uncomfortable, and I’m sorry.”

Dave felt stupid telling you that, but it was his truth; he spent every free moment of his days when you weren’t near him thinking maybe it was because of him. It would make sense, that you didn’t want to be there because you didn’t like his closeness, that you didn’t want to be there because he was taking advantage of his position to steal glances and give furtive touches.

He understood, but you were an excellent woman, devoted and committed to the congregation, and he knew he needed to stop or you would leave and he would never see you again. And he couldn’t have that.

“You aren–you…” you babbled, and then the look he gave you made you lose your words.

His eyes were all over you. And you could feel them on your skin, how they took you in, how they navigated through your body and every inch of you was immediately on fire.

Then he looked at your face and you swore you could see in his brown eyes the deepest form of devotion there was. And your mouth was agape and your eyes filled with tears and suddenly he was in front of you and his hands were orbiting your face.

“Can I touch you?” he said, and you nodded.

He cupped your face, and you felt his warm, rough hands scorching your skin as you closed your eyes. His warmth started mixing with your own and you could feel him inside you already. It was as if everything you needed in life was already there.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable,” you whispered, closing your eyes as his fingers started caressing the skin of your face, tracing your features “I swear you don’t”

Dave let out a sigh when his thumb traced the edge of your lips and he so wanted to lean down and take them in his. There had been so long since he last kissed someone and he, for a split second, forgot everything about him and the only thought in his mind was you.

“I don’t?” he asked under his breath as a tear rolled down your cheek and he brushed it off with his knuckles, you shook your head and opened your eyes and he felt his heart fill with the purest love he had ever felt in his life “you swear?” you curled your lips up and nodded twice.

“Can I tell you something?” you muttered, looking up at him and losing yourself in the depths of his brown eyes.

“Always.”

You allowed your hands to slide to his shoulders and you let out a relieved sigh. They fit perfectly.

“Yo–you are…” he nodded his chin, his hands still cupping your face softly as his eyes studied your face, you let out a trembling sigh and grabbed as much courage as you had left within you “you are the man I’ve been thinking of all this time.”

Dave widened his eyes and the movements of his hands stopped, he looked at you, searching for any hint of mischief or lie, searching for something that could tell him you were lying, that you were playing with him. But there was none.

“That’s why I wasn’t here last week,” he heard you say as he felt his heart burn with the flames of his desire and love “I was embarrassed after what happened at the communion.”

You looked at him for a second, waiting for the rejection, waiting for him to tell you what you already know, that he can’t for you what you wanted him to be, that he can’t give you what you wanted as his duty was with God and not with the mortals, let alone with a woman.

Father Dave had resigned to the pleasures of the mundane world; you knew that, but you also knew he deserved to know, even if nothing would happen.

“Am I?” he asked you, bewildered after such confession, you nodded and moved your hands to cup his face, a gesture that made him close his eyes. You wondered when was the last time, if ever, he had been touched like that “we can’t” he replied, opening his eyes and leaning in to you.

You could feel his breathing mixing with yours as the implications of his words fell on you.

“We can’t” he repeated, pushing his forehead to yours as you trembled under his touch.

“You want to?” you asked him and Dave asked for guidance in his mind as you started crying and wetting his hands. He nodded, and you sobbed.

“I can’t” he whispered, and you shook your head as he looked at you pouring your feelings from your eyes.

“Kiss me.” you pleaded, looking into his brown, deep eyes. Making him frown.

“What?”

“If you’re not gonna give me anything, at least kiss me.”

His face quirked from confusion to pain in an instant, and you gripped the hold on his face.

“Please, Dave.”

Dave sighed at the way you whispered his name without calling him a father, and deep inside him he was grateful. With you he didn’t feel like a man of god, with you, letting him touch you and touching him back, he only felt like a man. Like the man he never got the chance to be.

“I–I” he started, and you shook your head. Dave looked into your eyes and all the air he had stored in his lungs left his body in a hurry, you were the most precious being he had ever seen, and for a second, he wanted nothing but to make worth the fact he had you in his hands “shit.” he said under his breath.

Dave brought your face up to him and printed his lips on yours, stealing the little air and the close to no coherence you still had in you. You let out a soft moan out of the surprise and out of the feeling of your entire body warming up to his temperature.

His lips were as soft and as wars and better than you had imagined, they were a bit dry and hesitant on yours, but the contact of them with yours made you feel like you were floating away from the realm of the living.

Dave didn’t want to stop kissing you. He didn’t remember the last time he had kissed a woman, and in that moment he wasn’t kissing any woman he was kissing you; the precious being that had been in his mind for weeks and that had never left.

Unsure of his movements, he let you take control of the contact and soon enough you were sliding the tip of your tongue along the seam of his lips, Dave let out a surprised grunt and opened his mouth slightly of you, and you took his lower lip with your mouth. And he let you kiss him all you wanted, enjoying the contact of your slow, wet, warm lips on his less experienced ones until he was sure his lungs were screaming from the lack of air.

When he broke the kiss, he left a small one on your forehead and pressed his lips there and you closed your eyes to feel him settle inside you

“I’m sorry.” you whispered to his neck. And he nodded slightly.

“Me too.”

“But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.”–Matthew 5:28.

Sunday 6.

Your knuckles grazed softly with the sacristy door and you heard the muffled noise of the latch and the door opened.

“Hi,” you smiled and Dave looked at you up and down “got your text.”

“Come in.” he motioned his hand for you to hurry and you turned your head to both sides and walked into the sacristy, closed the door behind you and slid the latch.

Immediately after the door was locked, you felt his hands on your waist and his chin on your shoulder.

“This is why you texted me?” you teased and he moved to let a kiss on your jaw.

“I missed you.” he muttered and turned your body around for you to face him.

“You didn’t.” you smiled at him and wrapped your hands around his neck, grateful for the apparently deliberate choice of him to take off his tab collar.

“Yes, I did, I missed you all day.” Dave leaned towards you and took your lips in his, already knowing, after less than a week’s practice, how you loved being kissed.

His lips were as warm as they always were, his tongue barely present if not just to taste the sweetness of your lipstick, his hands always steady on your waist, and at the end, his forehead on yours, just taking in your breaths with his.

“Mass starts soon.” you said, and he nodded, sliding his hands to your middle back to wrap you closer to him.

“I know.” he left another brief kiss on your lips.

“You gotta get dressed.” you murmured against his lips.

“I know.” he muttered back and kissed you again.

“Want me to help?” you asked under your breath, just for him, as if you saying it as low as you could would stop God from listening.

“Yes, I would love that.” Dave replied and gave into another deep kiss that stole both your breath and made you want to stop the time so you could kiss until your lips fused together.

“C’mon you need to get ready.” you broke the kiss and stepped away from him, making him smile. You wandered around the sacristy and found his tab collar. You sighed and took it in your hands.

Dave looked at you and noticed the way you looked at the soft plastic piece, he walked towards you and raised his hand to grab yours. As you felt his hand on yours; you turned your head to look at him and smiled softly, and you moved your hands, raising them to carefully lift the collar of his shirt and clasp the piece around his neck.

“You okay?” he asked in a whisper, you nodded and bit your lip at the sight of him in front of you.

Dave moved and walked to the small table against a wall with a large bowl of water and you gazed at him as he washed his hands and whispered a few words. You leaned onto the wall just looking at him go to a small cabinet near the opposite corner and took a white, folded linen garment, which he unfolded and you recognized as the long robe he used under all his attire.

He slid it off and whispered another prayer again as he let it fall and graze his ankles. His eyes went to you and you smiled at him, he next grabbed a green square that you also recognized and you walked to him and took it out of his hands.

“Let me do it” you whispered, and he nodded, you unfolded the long stripe that was the stole and found its middle, Dave crouched a bit to help you and you let it fall around his neck over his shoulders.

“Return to me the stole of immortality,” he whispered, looking at your eyes, your throat dried at the deepness of his voice “which I have lost in the sin of my first parent and although I, unworthy,” he continued and took your hand in his “approach thy sacred mystery grant to me everlasting joy.”

You gripped his hands and felt your throat knotting around itself.

“Why are you praying to me?” you asked under your breath. He cupped your chin with one hand and brought you close to his face.

“You’re holy.” he whispered and left a soft kiss on your lips.

“Stop it.” you chastised him and he shook his head, giving you a soft smile that you reciprocated immediately.

You turned to the table and saw a long, golden cord and you took it.

“Not that one.” he muttered, and you frowned.

“Why not?” you saw him taking a deep breath as he took it from your hand and left it back on the table.

“The cincture… it means chastity and continence.” he replied under his breath and you let out all the air of your lungs as he took his chasuble and put it on without looking at you.

“Dave.” you called, and he lifted a hand to you as he said the last prayer. When he finished, he looked at you and as if he read your mind, he smiled at you and shook his head.

“Don’t,” he whispered, taking you again in his hands and pulling softly so your head rested on his shoulders “don’t apologize please.”

“I need to,” you mumbled against the light fabric of the green chasuble “I’m keeping you from your vow.”

Dave grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from his body, his hands slid to your face and you gripped his wrists as he brought your face to his.

“You’re not doing anything, my love,” he muttered the last words directly on your lips as he stole a few kisses from your trembling mouth “you’re perfect,” he panted out and you shook your head “I’m doing this because I want to, please understand it,” he kissed you again, a bit more desperately “you’re the most divine creation I’ve ever laid my eyes and hands upon,” he whispered rapidly on your lips “and I want you to be mine.”

You gasped as the words left his mouth, and he gazed at you.

“Dave...” you started, but he didn’t let you finish, he wrapped his arms around you and brought your body to his, tightening the embrace as he thought of the implications of what he just asked.

Dave lifted his eyes to the ceiling and for the first time in years, with you slowly wrapping your arms around his waist, exactly over the place the cincture was supposed to go around, and the sweet aroma of your perfume inundating his senses, he felt really close to heaven.

“I want you to be mine too.” you whispered into his ear, and he smiled, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

“How beautiful and pleasant you are, O loved one, with all your delights!”–Song of Solomon 7:6.

Sunday 7.

You stirred on your seat again, the organ was playing the latest song before Dave would bless the congregation and wrap up the service and you were nervous.

You glanced at the crucified Jesus above him and you felt his eyes on yours; you felt him shove his holy hand on your chest and as the last notes of the song inundated the navel, you felt your throat sting with the green tint of your deep guilt, but at the same time, the rest of your body drown with the red warmth of your love and desire for Dave.

Is it worth it? you heard inside your head and your immediate response was yes.

Eternal damnation in exchange for a few hours of love. It was condemnedly worth it.

The service was over and you stood up with the rest of the congregation; you talked with a few people on your way out of the church and slowly and patiently you waited for everyone to disperse.

You walked around the gardens outside the church and slid between the gate that marked the beginning of Dave’s small house inside the church grounds. You rummaged around your small bag and pulled out the key he had given you earlier and with nervousness and the familiar guilt settled next to your heart; you let yourself into his house.

You turned on the lights. The space wasn’t big, but it wasn’t small and everything around smelled like him. For a priest’s home, the place lacked religious imagery, and you automatically chastised yourself for thinking about his priesthood again.

You sat on the loveseat next to the door as you waited for him and got dragged inside your head again; you talked about doing that throughout the week and you had agreed it was something you both wanted. But your head sent you through an unwanted train of thought and you sat there, thinking about the future. Something you hadn’t talked about.

After all, he would still be a priest and you would still be a young member of his congregation. You could spend time with him and let you love him and let him love you as much as you two wanted, but in the future… what else was there for you?

You could never ask him to leave his habit for you, you could never ask him to leave his life for you, you could never do something like that to him. But you were unsure if something like that had any other path but failure.

The door opened and there he was, unclasping his tab collar and dropping it on the end table as you rose from your seat and walked to him. He smiled at you and his hands found his place on your waist.

“You’re here.” he said, not surprised but relieved.

As he took off his attire in the sacristy and walked to his house from the church, he had a few minutes to think about what he was about to do. He didn’t allow himself to overthink it because if there was something he knew was that he wanted it; he wanted it more than he had wanted anything in his life. He couldn’t explain it even if he tried, but he knew there was something about you that made him feel human, there was something about you that made him feel like he belonged somewhere, maybe the way you talked to him, maybe the way you kissed him, maybe the way you always seemed to understand the moral and spiritual dilemma he was in. He didn’t know, but he knew that he loved you, even if he wasn’t supposed to, even when he wasn’t allowed.

And as he thought of it, love was one of the laws of the God he represented, and he felt it deeply.

“I’m here.” he pulled you to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded.

“Thank you.” you closed your eyes and bit your lip, shaking your head at him.

You felt his lips on yours as they re-discovered your kisses and his hands roamed to your middle back to press your chest to his.

You were amazed by how fast he had learned how you liked to be touched, how you liked to be kissed and caressed, as if he was just trying to commit to memory everything you ever wanted and he wanted to do it to you to please you.

Dave slid his hands from your back down to your hips and moved you softly to the side, without breaking the kiss he snaked his hands to the back of your thighs and lifted you. You smiled in his mouth and wrapped your legs around his waist as he walked to his bedroom.

When you crossed the doorframe you started leaving small kisses on the skin of his neck and he sat on the edge of his bed with you in his lap, you were already feeling the hardness growing inside his pants and his hands started grazing up and down your thighs as he let you taste his neck how you best pleased.

Dave was in a haze. He understood then the power of physical touch combined with deep love; it enhanced the sensations, the flame inside his chest was burning him from the inside out with a deep desire he was sure he had never felt before, and you were there, moving slowly on his lap as you devoured the skin of his neck and kissed slowly around his jaw.

“Dave,” you whispered as you licked his earlobe and pulled out a shiver from him, he hummed in question “touch me.”

He didn’t hesitate on questioning where, his hands roamed all around your body, they were big and warm and they were rough; you cupped his jaw with both hands and took his lips in yours with a wet, open-mouthed kiss that he followed as his hands snuck inside your shirt and you moaned softly at the feeling of skin to skin.

You moved out of his lap and stood up in front of him, Dave let out a soft whine at the sudden loss of your weight on his body but stopped when you moved his legs open and stood between them.

“Take off my shirt, please.” you told him, not in an order but he obeyed, he grabbed the hem of it and lifted it, you raised your arms and felt his lips on your rib side as you finished taking it off and dropped it on the floor behind you.

Dave put his hands around your torso and licked your skin experimentally, which made you gasp at the feeling of his wet tongue against your skin and he smiled to himself, doing it again and nibbling on the same spot softly.

His hands slid to your waist and without being told to he unbuttoned your jeans and dragged them down slowly, his eyes directly on yours. You smiled at him with your reddened, kiss-swollen lips and he felt your smile settling inside his lower belly, his cock twitching inside his pants.

You put your hands on his shoulders as he helped you out of your shoes and jeans and when you were there, standing in front of him only in your underwear, he swore there wasn’t anything more divine than your body.

You sank on your knees and your hands landed on his thighs, Dave’s throat clutched and his chest turned as you smiled at him and your hands slid to his belt, you raised your eyebrows as if asking for permission and he nodded a few times, leaning backward into his hands to give you space for you to do whatever you wanted to him.

You unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, his breath hitched when your fingers hooked to the hem of both his pants and his boxers, and then he lifted his hips for you to pull them off him. Dave smiled when he saw you bite your lip at the sight of his hard cock resting on his abdomen. It did something unexpected on what he thought was his dead ego, but he loved the way you looked at it.

“Take off your shirt.” you said and again, without it being an order, he obeyed. Unbuttoned it as quickly as he could and slid it off his shoulders as you leaned over his lap and took his erection on your hand, your thumb grazing softly the tip and he threw his head back between his shoulders.

“Oh, my love.” he sighed out as you started pumping slowly and when he closed his eyes, you licked the underside and wrapped your lips around the tip, making him gasp.

You took it slowly, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum as it came out of him, pumping the rest you couldn’t fit inside your mouth with your hand.

Dave forced his eyes open and moved his head down to watch you, he shivered when he found you already looking at him; he moved his hand to your face and with his knuckles caressed your cheek, making you smile with his cock inside your mouth.

For him, looking at you on your knees between his legs was like looking at a sacrosanct painting; your lips around him taking as much of his length as you could, your saliva dripping from his dick to your hand, bobbing your head up and down as your eyes, those holy eyes that never left his, it was a pleasure he never thought he would get in his earthly life.

He felt himself close to cumming, and he pushed your head softly upwards, you rose from your knees and clashed your messy lips onto his and he wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands roaming around the skin of your back. His fingers played with the back of your bra and he broke the kiss for a few seconds to unhook it and help you slide it off, you smiled when he sighed at the sight of your breasts in front of his face and he pulled you flush against his head, taking a nipple in his mouth.

The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue around the soft skin of your nipple made you cry out his name softly and arousal gathered between your legs. One of his hands rested on your other boob and kneaded delicately as you fisted his hair in your hand. Dave moved his mouth to your other nipple and lapped at it before trapping it inside his mouth, you pressed his head to your chest and let out a moan when his teeth grazed your nipple as he released it.

“I wanna taste you.” he muttered against your boob and you smiled at him, nodding.

He moved you softly to lie down on the bed; the sheets were cool and soft and he stood on the edge, taking you in again, studying your body.

He leaned down to you and you opened your legs to make space for him; he hovered over your body and kissed you again, softly, as if you were back in time to the first kiss he gave you in the sacristy, as if he wasn’t about to devour your body.

His kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck and your chest, he left one in each nipple, making you laugh, he left a trail of them over your belly and one over your belly button. As he kissed your abdomen and your thighs, you looked at the ceiling and you smiled at whoever was watching.

Dave took the hem of your panties on his fingers and you lifted your hips for him to slip them off you, you lifted your legs and he unhooked them from your ankles, grabbing your calves and opening your legs again. He gulped when he saw your wet, expectant pussy right in front of him and looked at your flushed face. He leaned down and left kisses around your thighs without breaking eye contact.

“Guide me.” he whispered and left a kiss right over the hood of your clit, making you moan.

You nodded once, and he looked at your pussy, opened the lips gently with his fingers and blew on your slick folds, making you shiver. He flattened his tongue and licked from your slit to your clit, tasting your arousal, moaning at the richness of it.

You slid your hand to your clit and looked at him.

“Here.” you mumbled, circling a few times to show him how. He had told you he had sex before his ordination, because he didn’t want to go into his holy orders without having experienced it and wondering for the rest of his life what he had missed, but he said it wasn’t as good as he thought it would be and before you, he thought he would never know. So you had to show him what you wanted and what you liked because his experience wasn’t vast.

Dave did as you showed and you moaned out loud, the pads of his fingers were warmer and bigger than yours and he was handling you so delicately you were already on edge.

He kept licking and circling your clit and then, without a second thought, he moved his fingers away and started circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh m–my god,” you fisted his hair, pushing his face into your pussy and he pressed your hips onto the mattress, looking at your face with your mouth opened in pleasure and your eyes closed shut “Dave ke–keep doing that baby,” you pleaded and he did it, and started playing the pad of one of his fingers on your slit, making your hips buck slightly he saw you pant and smiled when you slid your free hand to play with your nipple so he added a second one to play with your entrance “inside, put them inside.” you said under your breath and he pushed his fingers slowly inside your cunt, making you let out a long moan of his name, he started pumping and curling his fingers inside as he had imagined you doing it all those weeks ago while touching himself in the shower and closed his eyes to hear you moan his name as he brought you closer and closer to pleasure.

He moved his fingers faster inside of you and hand fisted and pulled his hair as your moans became tamed screams and he thought of them as the most pious symphony that he and only him had the sacred pleasure to hear.

You wrapped a leg around his shoulders as you felt the knot inside your belly explode from his ministrations and you chanted his name over and over as he worked you through your orgasm. You panted for a few seconds and opened your eyes to the sight of Dave licking his fingers clean. You smiled at him and released his hair to motion him to come to you; he hovered over your body again and you put your hand on his nape to bring him to you; you moaned softly at your own taste and you felt it smile on your lips.

“What?” you asked in a whisper.

“Did you like it?” he asked back on your lips, you nodded and cupped his clean-shaven jaw, leaving a deep kiss on his lips.

“I loved it,” he smiled, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and felt his cock brushing lightly against your folds. “make love to me, Dave.”

You saw his smile widen, and it was his turn to nod to you, he kissed you again while his hand worked on aligning himself to you; he slid the tip through your folds and you gasped on his mouth when he found your entrance and started pushing in.

He did it slowly, no rush; he wanted to feel you in every inch of his cock; he wanted you to feel him and every ridge and vein of him as he found his home in you.

You nipped at his lip as he bottomed up and smiled when he stayed there, inside you, enjoying the wait for your body to acclimate to his, you looked into his eyes and you felt it.

You felt how you two fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

As if his body was made for you and your body was made for him.

It felt right.

It felt sacred.

Dave started moving at a calmed pace and you with him, quickly finding a rhythm where your hips moved almost in unison and he thrusted into you deeply every time he moved. He was supporting his weight on one arm next to you while the other gripped your hip and helped you with the tantalizing dance you both were having.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck when your hands moved to his back and you pulled his body down to yours, his chest gliding yours and his hips circling as he thrusted faster into you.

Dave moaned into your neck when you scratched his back as his thrusts became pounds.

“Harder, please, baby, harder.” you whispered into his ear and he listened, driving into you as fast as his body allowed, the noise of his skin clashing with yours and the wetness of you leaking around his cock flooded the room and his moans grew louder and you dug your nails into his skin chanting his name as you got closer and closer to your second release.

“Yo–you’re a goddess,” he muttered into the skin of your neck as his cock grazed your cervix, his hand wrapped around your hips and he lifted your ass for him to thrust deeper, making you moan his name loudly “you’re m–my go–goddess.”

You slid your hands to his ass and fisted his buttcheeks, pushing him further into you.

Dave felt his orgasm closer and closer every time he drove into you and your warm walls started to clench around him with the closeness of your orgasm, he nibbled the skin of your neck and clutched his eyes shut tighter when his body started to stiffen as he pounded into you; he muttered your name a few times like a prayer he never knew he needed to make, and it sounded right, your name in his voice as he drove himself and you to climax, his own name on your sweet voice as you begged him for everything he had in himself, it was all right, it was all correct, there was nothing wrong, how could he had felt so guilty about it when it was the most perfect, most righteous, most sacred, most heavenly action he could do.

You in his arms, your hands on his body, his cock inside your cunt, you wrapped around him begging him to cum inside you, everything about it was all he could have asked for to feel like he was in heaven. He had almost said no to feel it, and he bursted inside you at the same time as you broke in pieces around him, thinking that he would rather live his life with you around him than his afterlife in heaven.

“I love you.” he muttered against the skin of your neck and you opened your eyes after riding the high of your orgasm and looked at the ceiling.

You frowned when you heard his words and when you remembered what he said to you before he came, and as you turned to the side to see him that red warmth you had felt earlier disappeared almost completely and the bright green taint of the deep guilt inside you washed over your body and your soul.

He looked at you and narrowed his eyes. His expression changed as he realized you weren’t going to answer his confession.

“Dave,” you whispered and his face changed, his brow furrowed and you saw his jaw tighten “what did we just do?”

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[sukirichi]

Like, what happens to Mia? How does Gojo end up picking us? Naoya? How about Naoya? 😭😭😭🙏🏼😔

Omggg if you’re not going to continue reckless, can you please please please tell us how it ends? 😭😭😭 I don’t think I can bear living not knowing how it ends 😭 please? 😔😢🙏🏼😭

okay well here’s how it was gonna go, pls keep in mind my storytelling in asks and in writing are diff so this might be explained crappily HAHAHAHA but basically in reckless...

gojo gets shot in the head by his abusive dad bcos he finally stood up against him, but that backfired. his father is really adamant on control, and gojo loses his memories at the same time y/n gave birth. she decided to keep the baby after deciding that she wants a family after all, but when gojo woke up with mixed and lost memories, he only remembers mia and everything after her accident was gone. gojo becomes distorted and even becomes harsh sometimes, especially when y/n said they had a baby and she was his friend, bcos gojo’s mindset was from way back to six years ago, where he had lots of issues with his family and mia’s that he was wary who to trust.

so,,, they didn’t want gojo to hurt y/n bcos he’s such in an emotional mess that he has no control of himself. eventually, y/n decides to stay away but the baby is adopted by gojo and mia, who gets married for the sake of business and gojo’s current situation. truthfully, mia doesn’t want to marry him bcos it would hurt y/n and she’s not that awful. mia and y/n become friends after realizing they’re pretty similar and actually find genuine friendship with one another. she doesn’t have a choice tho and gojo, mia, along with gojo’s mom who divorced her husband for his abuse move to the states where they raised y/n and gojo’s daughter, sayori, leaving y/n all alone in tokyo who then becomes vice president of kamo enterprises. basically, it shows the repeated history of y/n’s father choosing to hide her from her real parents, and she begins to understand why he did that bcos she also has not really met her own daughter. y/n knows mia and gojo could take care of sayori better than she could, especially with the fact that gojo’s memories are mixed and transfixed on the timeline of him dating mia, mia giving birth to sayori, then them getting married. y/n is not present at all in his memories. gojo thinks he was the one in a car accident, not mia.

sayori is about four years old when gojo decides to come back to tokyo. now that he’s disowned and his mother has also left, gojo becomes a successful model in the states. he comes home bcos he remembers geto and wants to start their own agency (gojo as a model, geto as the photographer.) mia is wary at first for fear gojo might remember everything. she’s not being selfish; the doctors warned that anything that could potentially trigger gojo’s memories that his subconscious has erased could be detrimental to him. mia tries to hold it off but gojo insists, so the gojo/yamazaki family go back and that’s where gojo meets y/n, who he first thought was geto’s new wife.

in the reckless fanart, geto’s photo is like this.

geto’s ring is silver - it’s his dead wife’s ring. the hand caressing him is gold - it’s y/n wearing the ring of gojo’s mother, who by then has already apologized before they all left.

geto and y/n become best friends on the course of four years. missing her daughter, y/n becomes attached to mei (geto’s daughter) and acts more like a mom than an aunt. geto basks in this faux family they’ve built, though he makes sure mei is not too dependent or expecting that y/n would be her mom. he falls in love with y/n and he notices how after gojo left, she becomes softer and a lot sweeter. all the anger and hatred disappeared, all thanks to y/n finding peace with her new life and making up with her mother, Valeria, who once overdosed on drugs after it was exposed to the public that Y/N is a child she abandoned. y/n saved Valeria by rushing her to the hospital, which is also the same time that Y/N saw gojo being wheeled in the emergency room with a bullet in his head.

now that gojo is back, he can’t help but notice that y/n is avoiding him. she feels familiar but he plays it off over her being a close friend and possible lover of geto. meanwhile, y/n’s dedication to pretending he doesn’t exist breaks slowly when she sees sayori, a beautiful little girl who’s growing up, call mia as her “mommy.” it hurts her that she missed her first words, first steps, or that she’s being excluded in the family that is truly hers, but everyone is happy and doing great that she chooses to be the only who isn’t for the sake of everyone else.

in ch2, gojo goes to a carnival/amusement park and takes a polaroid photo with y/n. he finds them in one of the stuff he left behind in the penthouse he used to live in; shocked bcos y/n had been adamant they never met before. that’s when he begins to confront her on who she really is what they really used to be. he feels guilty that he can’t remember, but most of all, gojo is torn inside that y/n had been all alone the whole time when he promised he would be there.

its complicated for them since gojo x mia are already married, and sayori got her mom’s stubborness so its difficult for her to believe someone she never met before is her real mom and mia is...well, mia. mia actually helps sayori accept that she is not the real mom, apologizing to the child for lying to them and it ends up with sayori running away and getting lost for a few hours. sayori is scared since tokyo is alien to her and she doesn’t speak japanese, but when y/n finds her, she comes running to her arms and that is when she begins to soften up around her real mom.

this is where the slowburn with gojo and y/n begins. for them, getting to know each other once more on a clean slate is both refreshing yet scary, especially since one has erased the past in their mind and the other is desperately trying to forget it. the thing about the mia x gojo as a married couple and parents is that gojo deep down feels he does not love mia that way. he can’t explain why there’s just something missing or confusing in his life. he loves mia out of respect and friendship, but he would never admit that he is not in love with his wife. however, he plays it over the fact that its “just the broken memories” and lies to himself that he is very much in love with her. when he meets y/n again, however, it makes sense. he does love y/n and him forgetting her was a defense mechanism of his system to erase the most painful times of his life, and that included his guilt for hurting y/n with the abuse of his parents who controlled the way he acted around her. as for mia, she also does not love gojo and she probably never did, but for the sake of his well being and for sayori’s future (which was entrusted to her by y/n) she stayed with him. now though, mia knows its time to let go.

geto...it is not easy for geto. he loves y/n so much because of her tenacity and kindness, but he also loves her enough to know she is happier with someone else. to him, he’s content knowing that she felt less lonely when he was around and that he helped make her smile. in the end, geto has closure with y/n who apologizes for not returning his feelings.

NAOYAAAAA though...ofc i gave him a good ending 💕 after he was brutally rejected by Mia, y/n cheers him up by setting Naoya up with a law professor around his age, who is Ayame. Ayame is supposed to be named Suki tbh 😋 but I thought the self insert is a little too much so I changed it to Ayame. Ayame is pretty funny and even respects that Naoya is uncomfortable on the first date, telling him that it doesn’t have to be that kind of date and she doesn’t expect anything from him. Ayame’s bubbly yet blunt nature is a breath of fresh air from Mia’s secretive and perfectionist nature and the two become good friends. Naoya and Ayame end up hanging out a lot bcos “thats what friends do” but it doesn’t take long before they go out together. And ofc, Naoya is a little ashamed that Ayame was the first to confess and she beat him to it, but they get married and are happy nonetheless 💕 Mia ends up as a successful doctor who helps her family with the business, divorces Gojo, but she still has no plans to marry and is perfectly happy and content to focus on her career.

Eventually, Gojo and Y/N get married once everything is sorted out. Gojo becomes a well known model in Tokyo as well, and Gojo Group is absorbed by Y/N herself after proving Gojo’s father guilty of attempted murder. Gojo doesn’t want anything more to do with the corporate world though, but Y/N stays and kicks ass as a vice president to all the merged companies.

Y/N and Valeria also makes up after Valeria is indebted to Y/N who saved her life, and Valeria’s parents become more supportive and start to see Valeria more as a person than a child to inherit the business. Albeit being in her 40s, Valeria enjoys the youth she lost only now, but also enjoys being the grandmother to Sayori. Its a little awkward between Valeria and Y/N after everything that happened, but they’re trying and are even dubbed as the iconic motherly duo who is unbeatable in their games.

Gojo’s father is thrown into prison, and his main victim, his own wife, also shows recovery from the years of abuse. Although her obsessive control with Gojo and his sister (the eldest Gojo child) was not right, his mom was left with no choice but to keep them on close watch and control their lives because she was trying to keep them safe from their father’s wrath. In the end, Gojo’s mom makes up by being a better mother, and Gojo and his sister forgives her while also apologizing that both of them left home when they knew their mom always shouldered the abuse to protect her kids.

Overall, its a happy ending for most of the characters! the last chapter is Sayori’s wedding to Naoya and Ayame’s son, Naori, who is a few years younger than his bride. Gojo is grumbling to Y/N about how his little girl is all grown up now, and that their son, Shinichiro, who is 18 in that timeline is also maturing and would be leaving the nest soon. Y/N thinks its adorable and asks Gojo to just enjoy the union because its only one of the many great memories they would still have to make.

That’s how it would end! Gojo Best Dad and Gojo DILF. Everyone is happy!

Basically the theme of Reckless is that sometimes the most unexpected things we do out of character can end up as one of the greatest things to ever happen, which in their case was the suprise baby. They went through a lot and it has a lot of psychological themes, along with heavy family drama, but overall I wanted the series to be a heartwarming one by the end. I really would’ve loved to see it all happen but I am also happy to share it to you guys in this way.

So yeah, happy reading and thanks so much for supporting Reckless !! I was also thinking of doing maybe like a bonus chapter where the characters pretend it was all a movie and they’re actors that you can talk to, but that didn’t happen so :// anyways I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading up until here 💕