#after having multiple chapters of him worrying about the death happening on all sides of the battlefield

[butwhatifidothis]

Pictured: someone proving someone else completely right

OP: Just because I have my problems regarding Claude’s writing in GW doesn’t mean I dislike him.

Genius: Well, if you REALLY liked Claude, and if you were THAT upset about [extremely poorly set up event], then OBVIOUSLY you should have been equally upset about [event that was set up infinitely better in literally every way]. I am very smart.

[shadowynn]

| in love and lore | ten |

pairing: ot8 ateez x fem reader

genre: fantasy/daemon/soulmate au

warnings: some cursing, some violence, mentions of blood

wordcount: 8.5k

a/n: so, i know it's been a minute, and i'm sorry. i'm just a little bad about writing multiple stories at the same time as i get super absorbed in one or the other. but, it's finally here and i hope you all enjoy. i know at some point i said we'd have a yunho moment, but sadly that has been moved to the next chapter, but don't worry, it's coming! once again, thank you for all the support and love!

| nine | ten | eleven |

~~~

My blood is on my own hands.

The words replayed inside Hongjoong’s mind, repeating themselves over and over again and the way you had curled back into yourself when you had looked at the dead body beside you one last time haunted him. It was the same state you were in now, nearly half an hour later. You had managed to secure your thoughts well enough from them, but your emotions leaked through the walls you had built inside your mind, filling him and the others with the guilt that racked your body. 

It took everything in him to not go to you in that moment, desperate to ease your mind and convince you that none of this was your fault. If anyone were to be blamed for what happened, it was him. It was his fault the borders of the camp hadn’t been secure enough and his fault for allowing you to be in harm’s way. He should have never dropped his guard around you. He should have never left you alone. He should have made sure one of them was around you at all times, but he hadn’t. He had let himself grow lax with your safety and had nearly lost you because of it. What would have happened if one of his men hadn’t heard you and came to investigate? What if he hadn’t gotten the message relayed in time? Would he have still gotten to you in time? Or would it have been too late?

He struggled with this last thought, uncertain what he would have done if he had lost you tonight. He had just found you, had just finally gotten you; and the thought of losing you just after finally having you in his hands sent a wave of fear running through him that he hadn’t felt in years.

He remembered exactly what had happened to Seoyun all those years ago, remembered exactly how much the death had hurt her. And even now, nearly a decade and a half later, she wasn’t the same. A part of her had died that night alongside her mate. 

The thought of going through that very same thing terrified him. It left him fighting every fiber of his being that yearned to never let you out of his sight again, to keep you right by his side for as long as he could. It left him fighting the urge to lock you away, somewhere no one could ever get to you. Somewhere no one could ever hurt you. And despite knowing you were completely safe and secure in Jongho’s hands, he still couldn’t get rid of the urge to be with you himself. 

“Hongjoong.” He hadn’t noticed he was moving until Mingi stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “Rushing her isn't going to help right now.” 

Hongjoong nodded, collapsing back down in his seat. He knew that, but the urge to make things up with you was still there. The apology he had given you earlier replayed itself in his mind, reminding him of how flat it had seemed to fall. If he could just go to you for a minute and convince you that it was his fault, that he was to blame, perhaps…

“Jongho's got her, see?” Mingi replied, taking note of the way your emotions had temporarily lifted, the guilt that had racked your body disappearing for just a moment. 

But despite Mingi’s assurances, it was clear he and the others were of a similar mindset. Though a relative silence had settled amongst those who remained in the camp, he could feel the tension that had settled between them. Each one of them fighting the same inward battle as himself because they had failed just as he had. They had sworn to keep you safe, that nothing would happen to you, but they had very nearly lost you tonight. The notion made all the worse knowing it had happened right under their care. 

“The camp should be secure now.” San interrupted their conversation as he made his way inside their tent, wrapping a cloth around the palm of his left hand to stop the bleeding. “I put another barrier up around your tent as well, Hongjoong, ensuring we’re the only ones who can get to her at the moment. I know she doesn’t think it was one of our men who did it, but I didn’t want to take any more chances.”

Hongjoong nodded, fully realizing that was something he should have thought of himself when he had doubled the guard for the rest of the night. And he would have, if he had been thinking clearly, but he hadn’t. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to try and access his memories?” Wooyoung brought back the topic from earlier as San collapsed down onto the cot next to him, not quite content with his earlier answer. “I don’t think there’s any harm in trying; not as long as we have the antidote in hand.”

“No, I don’t want to risk it.” Hongjoong shook his head. Wooyoung had made it clear he had no qualms risking his life by ingesting the dead daemon’s blood in an attempt to piece together what exactly had happened tonight, but the idea hadn’t sat well with him or the others. Not with the bloodsbane that still contaminated it and not after what had happened to you. He couldn’t go through two scares like that in one night. “Not when we don’t even know if it would work. You’ve never ingested a dead man’s blood before.”

“Well, what about hers, then?” Wooyoung was quick to ask instead. “Perhaps we could get a better idea of what exactly happened if I saw-“

“No.” Mingi cut his second idea off before he could finish it. “She already hates that she can’t keep her thoughts to herself because of the bond. Imagine how she would feel if you were to go through everything she had thought and experienced over the past day.”

“But if I asked her first, maybe-“

“You really think she would agree to that?” Seonghwa leaned forward in his seat, settling his chin into his hand. “That she would just let you shift through her thoughts and feelings of your ride with her from earlier?”

“But if it’ll help us find out who-“

“Wooyoung.” Hongjoong’s voice served as a warning, but he wasn’t upset, not when he knew all the younger daemon wanted to do was help. “y/n already went through everything she remembered with us, so I doubt you would be able to gain any information that would prove beneficial. The best course of action at the moment is to wait to hear back from Yunho and Yeosang.”

“And have they found anything yet?” Seonghwa asked.

Hongjoong closed his eyes, reaching out towards the bond that tied himself to Yunho. The tent he was currently sitting inside faded from view, turning into the forest they had been traveling through the past few days. The woods were dark this time of night, the trees surrounding them blocking the majority of the moonlight, but he could just make out the shadowy figure of the wolf Yunho was using to track just a few feet ahead. Once Yunho had caught sight of the tracks near the original attack site, his shadow beast had been able to catch the scent of the person who had been there. Unsure of what exactly waited on the other end of the trail, he had sent Yeosang with him to hide their presence and given orders for them to stay out of sight and await further instructions once they reached the end of the trail. 

Have you found anything? Hongjoong repeated the question to Yunho, hoping he had more information than what he was seeing at first glance. 

“No,” Yunho’s voice was low, breathless from the time he had been running, “but I think we’re nearing the end of the trail.”

Sure enough, Yunho’s observation was correct. Just a few moments later his beast came to a stop at the edge of a small clearing. Even knowing they were fully covered from sight with Yeosang’s ability, they still came to a stop beside it, peering out into it from the cover of the trees in search of a sign of those they had been tracking. 

“No one’s here.” Yeosang was the first to make the observation, quickly taking note that though there were clear signs of a makeshift camp at one point, the clearing was now abandoned. There were no visible signs of anyone still being within the surrounding area, quickly scattering before any form of retaliation hit them. 

Hold your cover for just a moment longer. Hongjoong pulled back from Yunho, bringing himself back to his current position at their camp. He turned to Seonghwa beside him, ready to meet up Yunho and Yeosang. “They’ve made it to the camp.” 

He didn’t have to convey anything else for Seonghwa to nod his understanding and take the wrist Hongjoong extended in his direction. Despite being long used to the mechanics of Seonghwa’s ability, he still tensed as his fangs sunk into his skin, taking in the blood he needed to transport Hongjoong alongside him. 

In a matter of seconds, he had joined the other two miles away, taking in the site with his own two eyes. Yeosang had been right in his assessment, besides the three other daemons currently with him, he didn’t sense any other auras in the surrounding area. Whoever had been here before was now long gone, taking off into the night. 

And why would they have stayed? While the true intent of their attack was uncertain, it was clear they had attempted some form of secrecy with it. Whether it had been just a means to scout them out, sneak inside and find a way to him, or something else, he wasn’t sure, but their plan had failed the moment you had shown up. You had unknowingly ruined their plan, causing them to turn heel and run for the time being. 

“Should I have Haru track them further?” Yunho asked, scratching his shadow beast behind its ear when it nudged its head against his hands. Despite not truly being alive, Yunho’s beasts acted strangely lifelike, uncanny only because of how different they were from his predecessor. Yunho’s care towards the beasts clearly showed in the way they manifested themselves with his blood. 

Hongjoong was silent at first as he approached the clearing, taking in the dying embers of a fire. Whoever had been here, had left in quite the hurry, not bothering to hide their previous presence there. By the amount of tracks littering the grounds, the group had been small, no more than a handful. Whether they had been human or daemon, however, it was impossible to tell, but he leaned towards the latter. Something strange had gone on tonight in the attack, something that only became possible with the daemon’s maetha. 

Though they had quite the head start, there was no doubt they would be able to catch up with the group. As long as they had a hint of one of their scents, Yunho’s beast would be able to track it for miles. Whether or not that was the best way to spend their time and resources at the moment, however, he was unsure. 

A part of him was well aware it might have been in their best interest to just let them go. Tracking them down could very well take days to complete, spreading his guard thin, especially Yunho and Seonghwa, who would carry the majority of the work on their own shoulders. And if Seonghwa was right, if it was part of the militia groups that had caused mayhem for his father, there was a very good chance they would never find them at all, wasting all of their time. It might very well have been better to just stay on the defensive, continue on towards Taeyang with extra caution. The attackers had lost the element of surprise, making it much harder for them to attempt anything else the remainder of the trip. 

But he couldn’t let go of the fact they had hurt you, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let them just get away with it. Accident or not, it didn’t matter; he would make sure they paid for their crimes. He would make sure that everyone knew you were not something to be messed with; that there were consequences to those actions. 

“Are you up for a long chase?” Hongjoong straightened up, turning back to the taller daemon. A part of him was aware you would likely be against this decision, aware you would likely want him to just leave it be and move on, but he couldn’t. Not when the situation had affected you the way it had. Not when he knew his inaction could very well risk your life again. 

Yunho nodded, and the beast at his side sprung into action, beginning to sniff out the trail the previous occupants had taken. 

“I’ll stay with Yunho for now. Yeosang, you can head back with Seonghwa and let the others know what’s going on.” Hongjoong began, fingers itching to be on the hunt. Your words continued replaying in his mind even now, and the sight of you clinging to Seonghwa hit him once more. The only thing he wanted more than to be by your side at this moment was to bathe himself in the blood of the man who had done that to you. “We’ll stay camped where we are now for the time being. San set up multiple barriers, so y/n should be safe, but-“

“Don’t worry,” Yeosang put his hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder, “we won’t let anything else happen to-“

“Something’s wrong.” Yunho interrupted them from across the clearing, bent down next to his beast, “Haru can’t catch a scent.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I thought maybe he just needed more blood for the second chase, but even with it, he keeps acting as though their trail ends here.” Yunho looked up to the rest of the group, wiping his bloodied hand against his pants. “He caught something, I’m sure of it, but once he reaches the end of the clearing, it’s gone.”

“And what does that mean?” Yeosang’s head tilted, eyes glancing between each of them. “That they just, what… disappeared?”

“I don’t think so,” Yunho’s brow furrowed, attempting to get Haru to track the scent once more. “I can see their tracks running off in this direction, but Haru doesn’t seem able to track it.” 

“Hongjoong.” Seonghwa’s voice was low, etched with worry. 

“I know,” Hongjoong replied, coming to the same solution Seonghwa had. It was one he had known was a possibility all along, but one he had very much hoped wasn’t true. Because if it was, they had much more trouble on their hands than they had originally believed. 

“But why now? Why after all these years do they act now?” Yeosang asked, eyes sweeping the grounds around him in a new light. “What was their goal? What did they possibly hope to achieve tonight?”

“I don’t know.” Hongjoong went over your words once again in his mind, hoping to glean just a bit more information. Your hesitation had been clear, almost certain it hadn’t been their guard who had attacked you in that moment, but he had brushed your worries aside in the hope that you were wrong. Because if you were right, and it hadn’t been one of their own that had attacked you…

“Forget the trail. There’s no way we’ll be able to track them now.” He ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep a string of curses from rolling out. “At least not from the ground. We’ll head back for now, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to get a set of eyes in the skies before we go.” 

Yunho nodded, and his wolf dissolved into the shadows around it, replaced a few seconds later by an owl. It quickly took off into the night, sent out searching for any sign of their attackers from above. Even if they couldn’t track them down physically, any sort of information they could glean would be beneficial, even if it was just the size of the group.

With Yunho’s scout sent out, they prepared for Seonghwa to take them back to camp and tell the others what they had discovered. No one would be happy with the news they brought, and as much as Hongjoong didn’t want to resort to it, he now questioned whether or not Wooyoung had been right. Perhaps attempting to shift through the memories of the dead daemon or your own was the best move to make. Perhaps it would give them information they wouldn’t be able to get elsewhere.

God, he thought this night couldn’t get any worse, but he had been quickly proven wrong. He had thought things would get better now that the war was over, but if they were right - and all signs were beginning to point that way - human retaliation was now the least of his problems. Because if it was them who had appeared tonight, he had a whole new series of problems to attend to, especially if they had found out about you and just who exactly you were. 

~~~

Angel, are you alright?

You looked up to find Jongho still standing before you, faintly aware that he had still been speaking to you. Whatever he had been telling you though, you had missed, too wrapped up with your own thoughts to take his words in.  If Jongho minded, he didn’t show it, simply proffering the items in his hands over to you now that he knew he held your attention once again. 

“Once you’re done, you can sleep here tonight.” Jongho didn’t press you for an answer to the question he had asked you in your head, most likely repeating whatever he had been saying when you had lost focus. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

You nodded, accepting the bundle he handed over to you and setting it down on the table beside you to avoid getting any of the blood that coated you onto them too. A small part of you was aware the clothes Jongho had given you were not your own, most likely an extra set of Hongjoong’s, just as that same part of you was aware Jongho was requesting you sleep here tonight. If circumstances had been normal, you would have argued your way out of each, not seeing the need for either when your own were just a few tents down, but you were too exhausted to argue. And after everything that had just happened, you didn’t completely mind, not really. 

You weren’t sure exactly how you felt. Once the adrenaline had worn off, you were left with a wide variety of emotions flooding your system. Your first concern had been the daemon who had died, consumed with a guilt for not saving his life, for not acting quickly enough. But as guilty as you felt, your anxiety was quick to take over. The thought of what might have happened to you if the other daemon hadn’t come to investigate floored you. What would have happened if he hadn’t gotten Hongjoong like you asked? Would you even still be alive right now? Or would you have gotten yourself killed?

While you had often tread closely to the heat of the battles during the war, the only significant injury you had ever received was the stray arrow in the fight at Maehwa. It had been painful, there was no doubt about that, but you had soldiers nearby who were well trained and able to get you to safety and ensure you were never in any immediate danger as they helped to ensure you could heal yourself. But tonight, tonight you had placed yourself in a situation where you had been completely helpless. If it wasn’t for the nearby daemon whose curiosity had gotten the better of him or the surprise the daemon felt at your presence once he had stabbed you, you didn’t doubt you would be in a very different situation than you were now. If you were even still alive. 

It was the same thought that was in everyone’s mind tonight, but unlike yourself, they each had pinned the blame on themselves; racked with the guilt of seeing you injured under their care. You could feel hints of their remorse flowing through to yourself, making it difficult to differentiate between your own and serving to make you feel worse overall. The only person who was at fault tonight was yourself. You had been the one who had gone out on your own, yearning for some peace and quiet away from them. And you were the one who had gone after the daemon instead of running and getting help for the both of you. Why they would blame themselves for your injury, you didn’t understand, and you wished they would see the only one at fault was yourself. 

“Jongho.” 

You reached out for his wrist, pulling him to a stop before he could leave you. You weren’t sure exactly what it was that you wanted to say, or why exactly you had stopped him, consumed with a yearning to stop the guilt that played in his own mind. But anything that you might have thought of fell away when you caught his gaze, taken back by the raw emotion displayed there; the tenderness in his features making your heart leap. The sudden yearning to cross the distance between the two of you and envelop yourself in his arms struck you quickly, and before you could process the thought completely or how the action might have been met by him, you were giving in and doing just that. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You weren’t sure exactly what you were apologizing for as your arms wrapped themselves around his chest, quickly burying your face into his neck and relishing the warmth his body brought. You could feel him initially tense as you tugged yourself into him, but just as you were about to pull back out of embarrassment, he responded and swiftly wrapped you up in his own embrace.  

“For what?” There was a slight edge to his voice as he spoke, clearly taken back by the sudden show of vulnerability you had given. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you’re standing there blaming yourself over something I did.” Your fingers grasped at his shirt, attempting to somehow pull yourself in closer. Your chest thrummed at the close contact; his touch helping to fill the hollowness that had plagued you since the bond had been put into place. “I should have acted faster. I should have gotten a hold of one of you first. I’m not a fighter, I know that, and yet, I can’t seem to stop myself when someone’s in danger no matter how many times I get myself hurt.”

You didn’t regret your actions, not truly, but as the panic faded and your mind cleared, you quickly began to see everything you had done wrong. You had lost precious time in your indecision, time that could have been much better spent getting someone who knew what to do in the given situation. While you knew you would never forgive yourself if you just left the guard to die, you had long come to see how foolish your actions had been. You could have very well gotten yourself killed alongside him and then how many more would have died without your warning?

Soomin often got onto you for your tendency to head into dangerous situations, completely forgoing your own personal safety for the sake of others. A part of you was aware her worries were warranted; she was looking out for you and only wanted to make sure you always got back home in one piece. But it was difficult for you to put your life above those around you. You understood where she and Hyunwoo came from, knowing you would do anything and everything to keep them safe if your roles were reversed,  but it was hard to put the same priority on yourself. You had never done well when someone died under your care, unable to live with the knowledge you might have been able to do something for them. 

And tonight you had once again put your life on the line and very nearly gotten yourself killed. When Soomin heard about what happened, you’d never hear the end of it, and quite possibly neither would any of the eight men who had promised to protect you. Though they might not blame you for what happened, you knew Soomin would waste no time telling you how unbelievably stupid you had been. 

But it wasn’t only your actions and regrets that had taken your mind captive for the night, and the more you went over everything in your head, the less it all made sense. Why had the attackers only shot the one arrow? Why had you not been shot at when you had finally found the strength to act? And what had happened to the guard under your care? He had died, you were certain of it, and yet, he had moved and spoke with an ease that should have been impossible. And even if it hadn’t been, even if he had somehow miraculously healed himself, what had he been going on about? You hadn’t made out much in your injured status, much more preoccupied with the dagger sticking in you, and yet, what little you had heard had only served to confuse you further. He had seemed completely surprised by your appearance, and though you had likely never spoken to him before, he should have been familiar enough with who you were and what you could do. He should have known you were there to help him and he should have known you were perfectly safe inside the camp. 

“And we should have never dropped our guard around you. We should have been more diligent with your protection.” Jongho’s grip loosened, pulling you back just far enough so he could look you in your face. “We promised that nothing would happen to you under our care and we failed.” His hands left your waist, moving upwards to cup your face and ensure your gaze was directly on him. 

“And I told you that you can’t always fight my battles for me, nor do I expect that of you.” You shook your head. “I understand you want to protect me, but as much as you may wish it to be otherwise, you won’t always be able to be there, and blaming yourself each time it happens will only serve to make me feel worse.” You lifted your hand to meet his, covering it with your own. “Despite what you may think, I don’t blame any of you for what happened tonight and I won’t hold you accountable for the consequences of my own actions. My life, my blood, is in my own hands and no one else’s.”

To your surprise, the hint of a smile appeared on his face. “Has anyone ever told you how annoyingly stubborn you are before, angel?”

“It may have been mentioned a few times before, but,” you huffed, unable to keep your own smile from peaking through, remembering how Yeosang had told you something similar a few weeks ago, “that’s besides the point. I want you to stop blaming yourself for what happened tonight.”

“Only if you agree to do the same.” He retorted back, causing you to narrow your gaze. 

Now who was being stubborn?

You didn’t try to hide your thoughts. If anything, you wanted him to hear it, and seeing the way his shoulders lightened at your teasing remark and the smile it tugged on his lips lifted a small weight off your own chest. 

Now that the tension in the room was beginning to dissipate, you were becoming aware of just how close the two of you were and found it not quite as easy to hold his gaze any longer. Your eyes shifted to the side, hoping the hands Jongho held to your face covered the blush working its way up the back of your neck. But one quick glance back in Jongho’s direction showed you weren’t the only one growing flustered by the events. 

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t keep a frown from peeking through as you did your best to gently step away from him, taking in the blood that now stained his own clothes. He let you go with little resistance, scratching at the back of his head. “I wasn’t thinking.”

He followed the direction of your gaze to his shirt, understanding just what you were apologizing for once he saw the stains for himself. “Oh, don’t worry about it.” He waved your concern away. “This happens quite often.”

“Right.” You nodded, shuffling awkwardly. You recalled Wooyoung’s words from the first night in their camp, how he had mentioned Jongho’s tenacity on the battlefield. He had been right though, you never would have expected that out of the daemon standing before you, seemingly just as flustered by your previous exchange as you were. “Um, well, I should probably wash off.”

“Right.” Jongho repeated your earlier sentiment. “I’ll be outside then if you need anything.” He motioned to the exit behind him, giving you one last look before turning to follow through with his words, bumping into the table behind him in the process. 

You had to cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the giggle that threatened to come through, thankful it had been Jongho with you tonight than any of the others. He was easy to be around; his personality most like your own and the least out of all of them to tease you about it later on. 

Your conversation with him had helped to alleviate your nerves, allowing you to temporarily forget your worries for just a minute, but it didn’t take them long to return once he was gone and you were left alone scrubbing the blood off your body. With the difference in color between the two it was easy to differentiate the two from each other, the flecks of white signifying the lower daemon’s rank and a stark contrast from your own. 

You quickly sank into the water drawn for you, wanting to be rid of the sight as soon as possible, but no matter how much you scrubbed, you didn’t feel clean. How was any of this fair? That you got to live through the night and not him? And for what? Why had he been killed? What had been their motive?

Hongjoong had said it was most likely nothing more than the scattered remains of some human battalion, but you had a hard time believing him. If they weren’t happy with losing the war, then why hadn’t you seen or heard anyone while you were out? Why hadn’t the snuck into the camp and continued their killing spree? Why hadn’t they attacked you when you had attempted to get him to safety? And how had they gotten their hands on bloodsbane, a poison humans were incapable of brewing themselves, and one complicated enough that only a few people knew how to brew other than yourself.

Nothing about the attack gave any sort of evidence towards them being human, but them being other daemons didn’t make much sense either. If it had been daemons upset with the way the war had ended, and upset with your presence here with them, then why hadn’t he tried to finish you off quickly in the end? Why had he seemed to show you mercy and not just kill you when he had the chance?

Your fingers brushed against the skin where the dagger had sunk into. There was no physical sign that you had been stabbed recently, the area unblemished and smooth beneath your fingertips. What would have happened to you if your blood hadn’t had its healing properties? Not just tonight, but yourself in general? What would have become of you if you hadn’t been able to heal yourself and others from the brink of death with just a few drops?

You had never seen your ability as a curse. How could you when it had saved you and so many others? But you would have been lying if you had said you had never wished to exchange it for something else. At the time, you would have traded it and your ability to brew potions away if it meant you could be human. If it meant you could have an easier life and fit in, you would have eagerly given it all away, but now, now you weren’t so sure. You didn’t think you yearned to be human anymore, but you didn’t want to be fully daemon either, nor did you want to continue being stuck in the middle. You just wanted to fit in, to not be judged and controlled by those around you. You just wanted to be yourself, but exactly what or who that was, you didn’t know anymore.

You didn’t stray in the water for long, climbing out and tugging on the clothes Jongho had grabbed for you earlier. If you weren’t certain they were Hongjoong’s before, you were now. They smelled distinctly of him and you couldn’t resist the urge to pull the collar up to your face and breathe his scent in. Your senses weren’t as strong as a daemon, but you were familiar enough with his to detect the subtle hints of it in them and the tent around you. It left a wave of warmth flooding through you, easing the stress the night had brought and making you wonder why you resisted the bond you had with each of them so much. 

Perhaps if things had been different. Perhaps if you hadn’t been their mate and you hadn’t been forced into all of this with very little choice. Perhaps if they hadn’t been daemons, if they hadn’t been the king and his generals and you not a half-daemon. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been so afraid of what the future held and afraid of getting hurt. It was safer for you to keep your distance and safer if you continued to refuse their advances, because the moment you let your guard down, the moment you finally gave in, you would only have opened yourself to get hurt. It had happened before and it would happen again. You had long learned those above you only treated you kindly because they wanted something from you, and the moment that use was gone, so were they. 

Which is why you hated the bond that tied you to each of them, hated the way it filled you with emotions and yearnings so against your natural inclination. You wanted to keep your distance, wanted to keep yourself safe, but fighting it was so damn hard. It warped your emotions, making it difficult to differentiate between what was real and what was fake, because those emotions and thoughts were fake, right? Created by whatever magic they had used to effectively tie you to them. Despite how real they might have felt, they were manufactured. They had to be. And yet, you couldn’t stop the deep yearning in the pit of your stomach to walk back outside the tent and bury yourself back into Jongho’s arms. 

You forced the thoughts away before you got yourself obsessing over how exactly each of them felt about you once again, the very thing you had gone out into the night to avoid earlier. The realization would have made you laugh if it didn’t depress you so much, fully realizing now that staying in bed would have been the wiser thing to do. But, you hadn’t, and one look at the bed in the corner was all it took to let you know sleep wouldn’t be coming for you anytime soon. Your brain was still much too active to sleep.

You didn’t want to be alone either, though, and despite the awkwardness you felt over your last interaction with Jongho, you couldn’t fight the part of you that craved to be near him once again. And though you didn’t want to give in so easily, you wasted little time thinking it over and heading outside. The daemon had kept his word, and you found him settled on the ground next to the entrance when you stepped outside. He fiddled with a dagger, flipping it in between his fingers, but his movements stilled when he heard your soft approach. 

 “Is something wrong?” Jongho asked as you settled on the ground next to him, just far enough to avoid brushing up against him.

“No,” you shook your head, “I just don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon.” You brought your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and shivering slightly from the night air. The daemon’s clothes were made of a lighter fabric of your own, coming from the warmer climates of the south, but winter was fast approaching. “And laying in bed with only thoughts to occupy myself will only serve to drive me crazy.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No, I don’t think so.” You did your best to avoid his gaze, still slightly embarrassed by your interaction with him earlier. What did he think of it? “I just don’t really want to be alone right now.” 

It was strange enough having someone who cared that wasn’t family, but even stranger knowing just who was sitting beside you. After all the rumors you had heard about him and the others, you never expected the man sitting beside you, let alone that he would be your supposed mate; someone bound to you by the ancient magic of the daemons. It left you wondering just who the real Jongho was: the bloodthirsty daemon on the battlefield or the shy, blushing boy next to you now.

It left you wondering just who exactly the others were as well. There was no denying the darkness inside each of them, but was that their true nature or one built by the cruelty they had been shown themselves? You remembered the first night you had with Hongjoong. The man had oozed the aura and feel of the daemon king he was. His very nature and actions fitting the man you had heard of. He had gleefully killed Hayoon without a second thought, and yet, there was the Hongjoong you had seen in private. The Hongjoong who had very nearly broken down when he had explained how your parents had died, and the Hongjoong who had clung to you as though his very life had depended upon it.

“Jongho, what was your childhood like?” The question was out before you could stop it, curious for a peek of the boy he had been then. “Before you discovered you were a part of the Black Guard, that is.”

“Oh, well, it wasn’t much different from what it is now.” If Jongho took offense to your prying question, he didn’t show it. Instead, he crushed the dagger he had been fiddling with - reminding you of the other question prodding at the back of your mind - to free up his arms and lean his weight back against them. “My father has been training the king’s soldiers for almost two centuries now, so I grew up in the royal court and was familiar with the royal family before I became a member of Hongjoong’s guard. In fact, I was quite close to both him and Seonghwa before my horns turned black.”

“The two of you grew up in court?” You asked, just now realizing how little you knew about all of them. Besides the little bit of backstory Yeosang had revealed to you before, and the bits you had put together by comments here and there, you didn’t really know anything about any of them. 

Jongho nodded. “It was far less glamorous than you might imagine, especially for Seonghwa. His mother was a handmaid for Hongjoong’s mother, the current queen at the time, but their are never many children in the city, so we often spent time together despite the queen’s distaste for it.” 

“She didn’t approve?”

“No, despite being far from noble blood herself, she never approved of Hongjoong associating himself with anyone she thought was too far beneath him,” Jongho replied, causing your stomach to twist. You hadn’t given Hongjoong’s mother much thought before now. In fact, you hadn’t even been aware if she was alive or not, but you couldn’t help but selfishly begin to wish she was dead. If she didn’t approve of Seonghwa before he was chosen for the Black Guard, what would she think of you? Someone who wasn’t even fully daemon? “She didn’t mind me quite as much; my father had earned my family’s name respect, but she did often try to keep Hongjoong away from the both of us, saying he needn’t concern himself with those outside his guard, so you can imagine her shock when our horns both turned black, especially Seonghwa’s.” 

“She sounds lovely.” You couldn’t keep the sarcasm from coming through, tightening your grip on your legs. You had known all along the issues your presence would bring when you arrived in Taeyang, but Hongjoong’s mother had not been a source of anxiety for you until now.

Jongho chuckled, oblivious to how much his words had affected you. “That would be one way to describe her. She was never nearly as bad as his father was, but she was his mate…” His smile faded away and you knew exactly where his thoughts had traveled based on the way his entire demeanor fell. You had learned exactly what sort of man Hongjoong’s father was.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through when you were younger.” Your head fell to his shoulder, hoping to be able to comfort him in some way and feeling guilty for bringing the past memories back up. Physical touch made the bond thrum for yourself, so you hoped it would do the same for him now, conveying the empathy you felt for him. Based upon the way his body relaxed and leaned further into your touch, you figured you were right. “I wish I could have been there for you sooner.” 

“How have you done it, angel?”

“Hmm?” You tilted your head towards his face, not quite understanding what he had meant.

“This world has not treated you kindly, and yet, you haven’t let it destroy you. You haven’t let it corrupt you. Despite everything you’ve gone through, you treat everyone with a kindness they do not deserve.” 

“I guess when you’re born into a world that hates you, you learn very quickly you can either let it get the best of you or simply make the best of it.” You shrugged, settling further into his side. A part of you was conscious of the vulnerability you were showing him, warning you to pull back before you got yourself into a situation where you ended up hurt, but after everything that had just happened, you were too exhausted to care. It felt nice. He felt nice. “And with my ability to heal, it just feels natural to want to help those around me. No matter who they are or what they’ve done.”

“That doesn’t mean you should live with the weight of the world upon your shoulders. That doesn’t mean you should blame yourself every time someone dies around you.” His reply made you stop. “You didn’t kill the guard tonight nor have you ever killed anyone else that may have died under your watch. Your hands are clean.” 

“You’re wrong.” Your grip tightened itself on your legs, unable to stop the pit growing in your stomach. “Am I not at least partially to blame if I had the ability to save them and chose not to? Would you not hold some resentment towards me if I had decided to not save Seonghwa? Would you not have held some of the blame on me?”

He was silent for a moment and you didn’t dare look him in the face, terrified of the guilt you would find there. You already knew the answer to your question, fully realizing he had every right to think that way. That it was perfectly reasonable for him to put the blame on you, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to. That didn’t mean it made you feel any better. You didn’t want to be right.

“Do you blame Hongjoong for your parents’ deaths?”

Your lips twisted, unsure how exactly his reply made you feel. No, you didn’t blame him for what had happened. Perhaps a part of you had for a minute, seeking some sort of vengeance for what had happened, but you knew it wasn’t his fault and you couldn’t, wouldn’t put the blame on him when you knew it was his father’s fault and not his own. 

“Perhaps a part of me would have been upset if you hadn’t chosen to save him, but it would be wrong to pin the blame on you. You shouldn’t live your life on the expectations of others. The choice should ultimately be yours.” 

You knew his statement was meant to be supporting, but it fell flat, causing you to pull away from him. “Well, no one has ever seemed to care what I want in life before. That has always seemed to already be decided for me.” 

“Angel, I didn’t mean… shit.” Jongho pulled back as well, running a hand through his hair as a string of curses rolled out. “I’m sorry.”

“I know and I’m trying, it’s just…” You were trying not to be resentful, trying to understand things from their point of view. They were trying to make up for the past, right? You could see it in their actions, but that didn’t mean the past didn’t still hurt. It didn’t take the sting away from his words. It didn’t make him feel any less of a hypocrite.

Your chin settled in between your knees, the current conversation reminding you of the one the two of you had had the night everything had changed. But as frustrated as you were with everything that had been said and done, you couldn’t shake your own guilt from that night. While Jongho’s own words had stung and his actions hurtful, you now realized the weight your own words had on him that night when you had mentioned he had no idea what it was like to not have a choice. At the time, you had thought it to be true, frustrated by how he and the others had been dictating your every move, but that wasn’t true. Not exactly. Not after what you had learned about his past.

“I’m sorry as well.” Your grip tightened against your legs once more, but your head fell back to its former place on his shoulder. “That night Hongjoong killed Hayoon, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. You know exactly what it’s like to not be given a choice and I apologize for implying you didn’t.”

“Angel, you have nothing to apologize for.” Jongho leaned into your touch, head falling on top of your own. “You had every reason to be upset that night and it should be me apologizing for it.” 

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still wish to…”

A yawn escaped your lips, mumbling your words. The exhaustion that had built up inside you the past few days was finally taking a hold of you as the adrenaline of the events left your body. Jongho’s gentle presence next to you only further helping you to relax and while you knew it was probably for the best if you took the time to try and sleep, you didn’t want to leave his side.

“If you’re tired, you should go sleep.” But the way his arm had snuck around your back to help support your body told you he was of a similar mindset as you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded your head, but it was easier said than done unfolding yourself from his side. Jongho didn’t attempt to push you any further, letting you stay next to him as long as you wanted, but the moment you did pick yourself up and disappeared back inside the tent, you felt your anxiety crawling back once you were alone again. You couldn’t keep a frown from appearing as you stood in the middle of the tent, hating how being separated from them made you feel. You had spent your whole life by yourself, fully able to deal with your anxieties and problems on your own, but now that they had entered it, you struggled. Even with Jongho just a few feet away, and the rest not too much farther, your chest ached, wanting nothing more than to curl back up with Jongho, craving the relief his presence brought.

There was some relief in knowing it was Hongjoong’s tent you were in, and though you had some hesitation sleeping here for the night, curling up in his bed helped to ease your mind a little. You buried yourself beneath the covers, once again breathing in his scent that surrounded you, and for a very brief moment, you wondered what it would be like if he was here with you. A thought that sent you quickly hiding your face under the covers despite fully knowing no one could see you at the moment. But as embarrassed as the thought made you, you couldn’t help but wonder for the briefest of moments what would happen if you did call out to him. Would he come?

It reminded you of your earlier interaction with Wooyoung, a moment that had happened less than a day ago and yet felt so far away after everything that had happened. Despite the uncomfortable spot on top of the horse, you hadn’t slept that well in ages, at ease in his arms. And after everything that had happened, you found yourself craving a moment similar to that once more than you ever cared to admit. 

The realization left you groaning, rolling over and burying your head once more as you did your best to kick it and any other similar thought from your mind. But as aggravated as you were with the thoughts, it was a blessed distraction from the rest of your other worries, and though it took a minute, your exhaustion slowly began to get the better of you and you finally drifted off to sleep.

~~~

taglists are now in reblogs :)

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Public sex, voyeurism, female recieving oral, male masturbation.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies, I am here to feed you all. I've written ahead, and oh boy, getting emotional because soon (not too soon, don't worry, we have about 20 chapters left or so) this amazing lil journey will be coming to an end! Again, I want to thank you all as usual for you unwavering support, love and kind words. Truly means the world to me. You are all so sweet !

I have also been writing a lil Modern!Aemond story series and have plenty more ideas in the tank that I'm excited to write hehe. So might be a new fic drop soon :P. Anyway, ENJOY! <3

Chapter 83: Desperation

The next morning, Aemond decided to spend his day with you again, his unease from Aegon’s visit the day before setting him on edge. You spent the beginning of your day beneath him, soft kisses being pressed to your lips as he held you tightly against his firm body. Your small apology seeming to have softened his touches once more. 

Breakfast was eaten together, as always, and you smiled when he told you that he would be spending the day with you. 

“I was going to spend the day in the library reading, perhaps send another letter to Baela and Jacaerys.” You dabbed your lips with the napkin.

“Have you finished ‘The Loves of Queen Nymeria’ ?” Aemond asked, setting down his cutlery as he finished the food on his plate.

Leaning back in your chair you smiled, “I did. Why? Did you wish to read it?”

“I think I might.”

You let out a soft laugh, “I never would have thought I would see the day when Aemond Targaryen wants to read a book on the lovers of a woman.”

Aemond tilted his head, “What makes that so unbelievable?” He asked, sounding almost offended.

You mirrored his posture, “You who is possessive to the point of aggression? Wants to learn about a woman who had taken multiple lovers?”

“Hm.”

“Hm.” You parroted him, standing up and moving to his side of the table, “Come, I want to read.”

And read you did not.

Not too long after you perused the isles of books to find a new one to read, Aemond had pressed himself against your back, hands splayed on your hips as he dipped his head to kiss at your neck. 

“Aemond,” You hissed, “Insatiable beast.” You swatted at his hands, trying to wriggle from his hold. 

Aemond only chuckled and pressed his clothed cock against your backside, a low groan falling from his lips. Your skin felt alight as arousal burst through you. 

“We shouldn’t.” You whispered, pushing back against him.

“Why?” Aemond gathered your skirts at your front as you pushed back against him. 

“Someone might see.”

Aemond hummed as he dragged his hand between your thighs, fingers diving between your folds, finding them already wet. “I think you like the idea of someone finding us.”

A quiet gasping moan left your lips as he swirled his fingers around your bud, nipping at the skin where your shoulder meets your neck, your hands behind you gripping the material of his breeches, unsure if you were pushing him away or pulling him closer. His long fingers dipped into your wetness before bringing it back up, soothing circles over your bud. 

“Fuck.” You whined quietly, hips bucking into his touch. 

“Perhaps Ser Cole may find us again.” Aemond teased, and your stomach clenched, head lolling back onto his shoulder as he let two fingers push inside of you.

“You like that don’t you? The idea of being watched? Getting caught?” He teased, dragging his fingers in and out of your heat. You bit your lip to stop you from making any noise, but your walls clamped down on his digits at his words. 

“Such a filthy girl you are. Who knew that my sweet wife was so debaucherous.” 

You hummed, shutting your eyes tightly as he continued to drag pleasure through you, your hands clutching against the shelf, fingers digging into the hard wood for purchase. Every drag of his fingers caused slick to gather in his palm. 

Aemond suddenly spun you around, pushing your back against the shelf, hand ripping out of your centre. 

“Need to taste you.” He breathed, before moving down to his knees, hiking a leg over his shoulder as he dove his mouth onto you. 

“Fuck.” You whined, gripping his hair in your hands, his expert tongue already swirling over your sensitive bud.

Aemond continued to lap at your core as soft whimpers fell from your lips, a hand flying to your mouth to bite at your fingers, desperate to suppress the sound you made. But Aemond was relentless, grabbing your hand and tugging it away from your face. 

“Want to hear you.” He groaned into your cunt, and your head fell backwards against the shelf, books sliding to their side as he slid two fingers back into your core, licking and sucking at your pearl. 

Pleasure wound its way inside of your gut and your heart raced in your chest at the thought of someone finding you in your compromised position. Aemond began to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace, and you could not stop the long whine that flew from your chest as his fingers brushed against the spongey spot within you. 

“Aemond.” You moaned, writhing your hips up to meet his face as he licked and prodded at your core. 

He grunted in approval and continued, speeding up his ministrations as he felt your core begin to tighten around his digits. You squeezed your eyes shut as he sucked your pearl into his mouth, tongue swirling around it wetly.

Prickles moved over your skin, and you felt your peak begin to rise. 

“I’m close.” You warned Aemond, which only spurred his movements further, the sound of your wet centre filling the space of the library. 

You moved your head to look at him, opening your eyes.

A cry broke from your lips as you locked eyes with a pair of violet ones behind Aemond. 

Aemond thought your cry was due to his pleasuring, his tongue and fingers on you, and hummed against your folds. You felt yourself clamp around Aemond’s fingers as he fucked them into you harder and faster, your thighs wet with arousal.

You were frozen.

Staring at the King.

You kept Aegon’s lustful gaze, his lips parted in arousal as he watched you.

Your peak ripped through you suddenly, ecstasy racing through your body as you whimpered loudly into the library, grabbing Aemond’s head with your hands tugging him closer to you as Aegon watched. 

Your heart was racing in your chest. 

How long had he been there?

“Aemond.” Your voice cracked, still looking at your oldest uncle who took a few steps back silently, standing beside the shelves behind the Prince. Aegon smirked as he watched you twitch, Aemond pressing wet kisses to your thighs before rising up to his full height. 

“What?” Aemond asked, catching your eyes as you looked at him, cheeks flushed. 

You thought for a beat. 

Do you tell him?

Perhaps.

“Need you.” You whimpered, mind made, pulling Aemond in for a searing kiss, Aegon still watching from behind. 

Pervert. 

Aemond kept hold of your thigh and brought up to his hip, unlacing the front of his breeches whilst his head dipped to kiss the tops of your breasts in your gown, flesh sensitive to the touch. All the while you kept your silent battle of gaze with Aegon, who’s hand slipped down to the front of his breeches, pressing against the straining material in front of his cock. 

“Perfect, wet, little cunny.” Aemond groaned as he freed his cock from his breeches, rubbing the head through your slick folds. 

You gasped loudly, bucking your hips forward as you pulled him in against you with your leg. In one swift thrust, Aemond entered you, and you let out a loud cry in the library, putting on a show for Aegon. 

Let him think he has you. 

Aemond began to thrust into you, head tucked into your neck as you held him against you, moaning loudly with each thrust as the sloppy sound of your arousal echoed around you. Aegon had loosened the ties on his own breeches, and stuck a hand down the front. 

Disgust wormed its way inside of you, and yet also a strange plucking of delight. 

Perhaps Aemond was right, you did like being watched. 

Aegon pumped himself in time with Aemond’s thrusts, lip caught between his teeth as he held back any noises. Noises that you still heard to this day. Noises that haunted you.

But right now?

You had power.

You were in control. 

And it was exhilarating. 

Aemond’s thrusts sped up, his cock bullying your cervix and the bone of his pelvis brushing against your overstimulated bud, your second release winding within you rapidly. You kissed at the side of Aemond’s hair as you watched Aegon pull his cock from his pants, tip red and angry. 

Your mouth hung open as the coil within you wound tighter and tighter, Aemond’s hips becoming sloppier by the second as he chased his high. A hand moved to squeeze your breast and you gasped loudly, the flesh tender. Aemond immediately moved his hand away back to your thigh.

“S’close.” You slurred, fingers digging into Aemond’s back as Aegon sped up his hand, “Need you, kepus. Need your seed.” You kept your eyes on Aegon.

Kepus. 

Aegon.

Aemond.

The Prince moaned and his hand moved to grasp the skin under your ass, spreading you out on him as a finger moved to rub against your puckered hole gently. Sparks shot up your spine at the unfamiliar feeling, and that was all it took for you to tumble over the edge a second time. 

Blinding white pleasure coursed through you as you kept your gaze on Aegon, watching as his mouth became slack, his seed spilling into his closed fist at his tip, cheeks bright red and hair tousled. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Aemond grunted before he reached his peak, hot ropes of his seed painting your walls. 

Your head fell back against the books as you all breathed heavily, the smell of sex filling the library, overpowering the smell of parchment. You could feel Aemond’s cock twitching inside of you as you clenched around his length, his head buried in your shoulder, wet kisses being pressed to where he had bitten down on your flesh.

Slowly Aemond pulled back, softly pulling out of you with a whine, before straightening his back to look at you. His lips were swollen and pupil blown out.

You gave him a lazy smile, willing your heart to stop jumping out of your chest. Slowly, he bent his head down to press his lips against yours, kissing you sweetly. You could taste the subtle tang of yourself on his tongue.

It made you feel nauseous knowing that you had an uninvited guest who watched over you.

But this was what you needed.

When you looked back over Aemond’s shoulders, the King was gone. 

You had read together by the chaise after, kisses stolen from each other, and glances thrown around the library to see if Aegon was still there watching, hiding amongst the many rows of books and tomes, but he was nowhere to be found. 

A small piece of guilt ate at you, but you quickly squashed it. 

This was what you needed to do.

When the two of you returned back to your chambers, there was a letter in the centre of your table waiting for you, a red rose placed on top. 

A letter from the King.

Inviting you to dine with him and the council that evening. 

Aemond in his insecurity, and sudden bout of jealousy ever since Aegon had made his presence more demanding, pulled you onto his lap at the table, exposing your centre and sinking into it with a single thrust. 

He fucked you on the chair as you rode atop him, clutching his shoulders for grip as you whined. 

“Want my seed to be dripping from your cunt when we dine tonight.”

You tumbled over the edge again for the third time that day. 

By the time you went to the Small Dining Hall for dinner, you were exhausted, thoroughly fucked out and body aching. You did not know if you could continue the way the two of you did, every inch of you was sensitive and ached, and all you wanted to do in that moment was sleep. 

You kissed Aemond gently before you entered the Hall, and whispered into his ear, “I can feel your seed dripping from my cunt.” 

And you could.

Aemond tutted as the doors were opened, “So wasteful with a gift from a Prince.” He whispered, the two of you taking slow steps towards the table as you were announced to the room, “Kessa emagon naejot leghagon ao bē arlī tolī.” Will have to fill you up again later.

You smirked, eyes meeting the King. A blush creeped across your face and you looked down shyly before responding to Aemond.

“Gaomagon ao pendagon kostā jikagon arlī?” Do you think you can go again?

“Lēda ao? Va moriot.” With you? Always.

You sat down side by side, Aemond pulling out your chair for you to sit in and helping to tuck you in after, Aegon’s gaze not leaving yours once, smirk pulling at his pink lips. A familiar face caught your attention at the table.

Lord Jason Lannister.

He was still here.

He sat at the end of the table, Maester Orwyle on one side, Lord Jasper Wylde on the other. His straw blond hair sat brushed and tucked behind his ears, and the red and gold tunic he wore was embroidered with large standing lions. 

Jason, catching your gaze, bowed his head to you and smiled. 

“How goes the Dragon Pit for Casterly Rock, My Lord?” You inquired from across the table, Aemond humming beside you in irritation. 

“I have sent word for some of the finest stonemasons in all the realm. Of course, all would have to wait until a daughter is born.”

“Of course. We should discuss possibilities later.” You smiled, turning away to look back at Aegon as the rest of the table chatted amongst themselves. 

When the food was placed upon the table, Alicent said her prayer to the Seven as she always did, and this time, you bowed your head, sliding your eyes to look at Aemond beside you, who’s own was diligently shut. 

The table was loud with conversation and eating as the Lords spoke amongst themselves and the King drank from his cups deeply.

Aemond spoke to you quietly in High Valyrian, careful to not rouse the attention of Aegon, "Gaomagon ao drējī pendagon nyke'd ivestragī īlva tala dīnagon zȳhon tresy?” Do you truly think I'd let our daughter marry his son?

“Daor. Yn iksis ziry daor kirimves naejot ūndegon zirȳla pendagon konīr iksis?” No. But is it not fun to see him think there is? You smiled at him cheekily.

Aemond’s lips twitched, “You are a cruel, merciless little thing.”

“Ao jorrāelagon ziry.” You love it. 

“Gaoman.” I do.

Jason Lannisters voice moved across the table to Aegon. 

“I have heard word from Ser Amos Bracken about some interesting rumours in the North.”

The North? 

All attention was on Jason Lannister. 

Aegon placed his goblet down on the table, leaning back in his chair to look at the Lord. 

“And what are these interesting rumours?” Aegon asked lazily. 

Jason’s eyes flitted to you, then back to Aegon as though he was considering not speaking of such things in front of you. But at the King’s prompting hand, Jason began.

“Well for one, House Blackwood still holds the Bracken lands, and has their and the Blacks banners seated atop the Keeps.” 

Aegon pouted, pulling his ale back to himself to take a gulping sip.

“And what’s more,” The Lord of Casterly Rock continued, “Is that there has been word of a orange and green dragon sighted flying to and from the North.”

Vermax. 

Jacaerys. 

“It’s been seen at the Green Fork of the Trident, House Frey’s seat. But of course, Rhaenyra’s son being witnessed to treat with their allies is not an unusual thing. Prince Aemond goes to treat with Houses Swyft, Reyne, Crakehall.” Rivers, “But thats not all of what Ser Amos came to the Golden Tooth to tell me.”

You wished he would get to the point. 

Aegon sighed, “Spit it out, Lannister.”

“Rhaenyra has freed the North.”

Laughter rung amongst the table, the Lords looking at one another as they guffawed. Even Aegon laughed loudly, holding up his ale in mock toast before he drained the dregs of his cup, holding it out for a server to come fill it again.

“Freed the North?” Aegon chuckled, “Her largest supporters?”

Lannister beamed at the attention he was getting, his information seemingly delighting the King, “Oh yes, she’s given word to Cregan Stark that she has no wish to rule over free people. Given them their autonomy back.”

Lord Jasper Wylde shook his head, “Princess Rhaenyra-“

“Queen Rhaenyra.” You corrected him stiffly.

Jasper turned to look at you as he continued to speak, “Has undone what only King Aegon the Conqueror could achieve. How many times did Lords and Kings try to claim the North? And how many times did it fail? The only reason why we had the North was because of dragons, and now she has set them free? Whats to say they won’t rebel against us all?”

“Who’s to say that they will?” You argued, “The North has been given no reason to attack the rest of the Kingdoms.” Feeling defensive for your mothers choice you continued, “In fact, I think the Queen’s option to give the North back has bolstered a relationship of peace.” You looked around the table, only to find Aegon smirking at you. 

Jason Lannister chuckled pitifully at you, your head snapping to him, “The North was the only thing that gave your mother power.”

“My mother and her many dragons and supporters.” You snipped, “And if my brother is seen to be often flying to treat with the North, then I would say their relationship still stands.”

“She’s given the men a way out.”

“House Stark gave their oath to my mother.”

“I know other Houses that did the same thing.”

“And turncloaks they are.” You snipped, “There has never been a Stark who has broken their oath.”

Jason leant back in his chair and laughed heartily, head tipped back, even Otto Hightower chuckled from the side of Aegon, his tired eyes looking at you with mirth. 

“All men can break their oaths.”

“All men are not Starks.”

“Perhaps you should have been wed to to the Stark boy, what’s his name?” Aegon laughed, “Crepan? Credan?”

“Lord Cregan Stark.” You spoke calmly, “And my hand was to be offered to him. But I decided against it.”

Jason Lannisters laugh sounded more like a squawk or a squeal, “And here you are. You could have been up in the North with the mudmen freezing your bits off.”

“The North would not have wanted to be used as a bartering piece in war. What my mother has done was the right thing. The Starks were and are the Kings of the North.”

“Kings of ice and snow.”

“Kings no less.”

"I don’t recognise the Northerners of having Kings.” Aegon smirked.

“And I’m sure others don’t recognise you as theirs. And yet it still stands.”

Aegon clapped his hands loudly and beamed at you, teeth showing as he grinned. 

“Tell me brother, you’re well read on the history and politics of the realm. You’ve always had that nose of yours stuck in books. What do you think of this all? Do you think our sister made the right choice?”

The chambers were quiet as all waited for Aemond’s response. Alicent had her elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her face as she tried to sneakily and unnoticeably bite at her nails in habit. Otto looked genuinely interested in what Aemond had to say, but Aegon was clearly up to no good. 

The Prince pursed his lips, tongue in his cheek as he thought, watching his brother.

“We don’t know what freeing the North means for the rest of us.” He began and you felt your heart sink, “It’s true that Aegon the First was the only one to have ever conquered the North. Their lands are stretching, Houses and alliances ancient and new, not to mention, the North is a most inhospitable land to live in, let alone wage and win a war against.”

You breathed heavily in your nose, teeth grinding together, your hands in tight fists in your lap. 

If Aegon had freed the North all would have applauded him for his bravery. But all laughed and mocked your mother because she was a woman. 

“As for freeing the North?” Aemond’s voice became louder, “I think it was the smartest move Rhaenyra could have made.”

Your head snapped to your husband, staring at him in disbelief.

Had he just agreed with you?

Aegon scoffed, eyebrows high on his face. Jason Lannister and Jasper Wylde laughed softly and shook their heads.

“If we know anything about the North and their people, we know that they do not recognise the rest of the Kingdom’s unless forced to. The North bent the knee to Aegon the First, and who is to say they would continue to listen to another foreign ruler from the South? Would you bend the knee to a monarch who you knew naught about? Who you had no similarities to, besides being men? What Rhaenyra has done, is bolster trust and respect. And I daresay that is more powerful than ruling with fear."

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

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[astral--horrorshow]

Around-The-Clock Shadows

Platonic Yandere ROTTMNT x Reader

Info: This will be a full-length fic including multiple ROTTMNT characters, the main storyline revolves around the Mad Dogs.

Fic Summary: You sure are likeable, aren't you?

《Directory》

Chapter 6: A Plan

Characters: Donnie, Mikey, Leo

A/N: So sorry for the short length for such a wait! I was feeling very unmotivated with this chapter, for some reason. Don't worry, though, I have no intention of abandoning this fic! I am going to quit the schedule for it, though. It was an unrealistic standard to hold myself to, and it made me rush the chapters just so I could get them out on time. I'm going to focus on some other writing, but I promise to be better with updating!

If you want to be added to a taglist, just say the word! If you want to draw fanart or make anything based off of this, I would be literally honored. Please don't be shy, I will love whatever you make! If you have any questions about the fic, feel free to ask!

TW: Unhealthy relationships, toxic mindsets, melodrama, unjust frusteration, kidnapping, harsh words

I do not condone any of the behaviors found or done in this fic. This story is purely for entertainment purposes. If you or someone you know is being treated like this, please contact the authorities.

Chapter Summary: Donnie pays you a midnight visit, Mikey and Leo have an argument, and a plan forms in your mind.

Word Count: 899

☆~☆~☆

Your bleary eyes opened, the ceiling swirling around and venturing in and out of your focus. You blinked a few times to see clearly. When the initial drowsiness of a midnight wake-up wore off, you finally noticed how dry your throat and mouth were. The taste of phlegm haunted your every waking millisecond, and so you reached over to the spot on the bedside table where your glass of water was usually kept, where only the fridgid air of the sewer met your outstretched fingers. You looked over in confusion, and sure enough, the glass was missing.

"Don't worry, I have it right here."

You turned towards the voice of Donatello, and sure enough, there he was. He was casually leaning against wall, glass in hand. "It's not good to consume anything old," he said, holding it out towards you. You grabbed it, the sudden chill on your hands almost making your grip loosen. "Be careful, don't spill it," Donnie said. You drank the water, internally sighing in relief as it poured down your dry throat. After lowering it from your lips and placing it on the side table again, Donnie reached towards your face, sitting down on the bed so he could grab your chin and tilt it upwards to stare into your eyes.

"Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Of course I have!" You hadn't. Believe it or not, being kidnapped by mutants would throw off one's sleep schedule in most cases.

"Lower your voice. It's nighttime. And no, you haven't."

"I have..."

"Don't lie to me. I can always tell."

You averted your gaze to the side, embarassed at his callout of your bluff. Donnie simply pushed at your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "Don't act like that. I only want to help you, the only reason that it's not happening is because you're not letting me."

You refused to answer still, nearly making Donatello's irretation bubble up to the surface, but he controlled his temper. Lashing out would only drive you further. Patience was a virtue, his father said.

"Go back to bed. Sleep deprevation can lead to death."

With that, he left you with you with his hyperbolic warning and a half-empty glass of water.

☆~☆~☆

Mikey rolled towards you on a bright orange hoverboard, which was adorned with stickers like his battleshell was. Just as you turned around to see the source of the noise, Mikey plucked you up from off of the ground and held you from under your armpits, arms wrapped around your chest, akin to how one would hold a cat. He traveled with you like that all the way to the kitchen, where he set you down at a barstool at the kitchen island.

You didn’t react at all, not when he picked you up or the whole time he was carrying you. You had grown used to being picked up or dragged along to wherever one of the turtles wanted to bring you. “What’s up, Mikey?” You asked, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand.

“Nothing much,” he said with a grin, “Have you eaten today? You don’t seem like you’ve eaten today. I’ll make you something.” He rambled without letting you get a single word in, already flitting around the kitchen and gathering ingredients and cooking utensils.

As you watched him chop up chicken, Leo strolled into the kitchen with his trademark casual energy. “Hey, party people, what’s up?”

“Makin’ lunch!” Mikey cheerfully chirped at his brother, who seemed chuffed enough with the answer. “Okie doke, then. Anyways,” Leo didn’t further converse with his brother in favor of talking to you, “Have you ever been tubing, hermanito?”

You shook your head, “No, I don’t know how to swim.”

Leo gasped and held his three-fingered hand up to his chest, “Really? Wow, I didn’t realize that nobody loved you enough to teach you how!”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you opened your mouth slightly, tears welling up.

"Leo!" Mikey had abandoned his cooking pursuits to glare at Leo with his hands on his hips.

"What?!" Leo shot back, "You don't agree?"

Mikey's face fell, and he not-so-slickly jerked his head in your direction.

"Don't say it in front of them! It'll hurt their feeling!"

"But it's the truth! We're the only-"

"Stop!"

As the brothers continued to argue, the tears in your eyes spilled down in your cheeks. You quietly sobbed as Leo and Mikey continued to go at eachothers throats.

The brothers ceased their arguing and glanced in your direction after a noticebly loud sob from you, causing looks of regret and guilt to spread across their faces.

"Awe," Leo cooed as he and Mikey approched you with their arms outstretched, "Don't cry, poor baby."

"That's right, Leo didn't mean it," Mikey chimed in, shooting a dirty look at his brother over your head, "Plently of people love you!"

Mikey wiped away your tears as Leo wrapped his arms around your shoulders, hugging you tight. "Don't fret, hermanito. You know what? I can teach you how to swim sometime."

You perked your head up, "You mean, like, at a beach?"

He laughed, "No, silly head! There's plently of water down here!"

An idea blossomed in your mind.

"Like, the sewers?"

"Yeah, it's not as gross as you think!"

The sewers had manholes. Manholes lead outside.

"Alright."

☆~☆~☆

A/N: I'm going to try to write as much as possible in early-mid-august, because I start my sophomore year in a month, and my piano lessons in the fall, so I can have plenty of content to give to ya'll!

Taglist <3: @ssak-i @yanteetle @averagerottmntsimp @oleander-nin @whyiseveryonesodamnfinetho @writelikenobody @takottai @moths-and-mantids

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Human And Mutants - Chapter 3 - Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Title: Feed The Flame

Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Jones (Mentioned), Bobby, Rogue, Pyro, Bobby's dad, Bobby's mom, Ronny, Jean (Mentioned), Ororo, and Kurt

WC: 2,322

Warnings: Guns mentioned, killing mentioned, death, fire, X-Men canon fighting, slow burn, slight angst, and fluff

(Sorry, if this series is a bit odd, I made this in 2018)

The boy, Jones, sat in front of the TV, slightly enjoying one of the channels, before he blinked and the channel changed. He was just about to change it once again when he heard something he turned off the TV and got up. Walking out of the room, he saw three dark figures in the hallway. They were dressed in black, form-fitting battlesuits, and they were carrying around big guns.

From the kitchen, Logan heard Jones fall, thanks to his heightened hearing. He slowly turned to look at the window behind Bobby as he heard the soft sound of people’s footsteps. The footsteps were too loud to be kids, and almost all of the adults were gone from the mansion. There were intruders. 

Bobby tried to speak but Logan raised his hand, silencing the teenager. Behind Logan, two of the many intruders stealthily walked into the kitchen, guns raised and ready. When they walked in, Logan pulled out his claws and stabbed them both in the chest, instantly killing them. Bobby turned around, looked out the window, seeing helicopters and vans parked outside. When he turned around, Logan had already left. Bobby got worried and he quickly left the kitchen, off to find Rogue and Pyro. 

Meanwhile, over by the front door, multiple guys burst through the door and raised their guns. Rogue screamed when they came in, but before the bad guys could shoot them with sleeping darts, Logan jumped off of the balcony above them. He killed all four of them and then he and the teens ran off to the secret exit. Bobby opened the secret sliding door and they went in, they hesitated, but Logan wanted to stay behind, seeing that Stryker was behind all of this. 

He wanted to know what happened in his past and wanted to get some answers, but before he could do anything, a thick ice wall separated them. Logan screamed out, frustrated as he placed his hand on the ice, covering the shadow of another hand from the other side. Rogue called out to him from the passageway, and he reluctantly followed. They ran out to the car garage, opening the doors to a blue sports car. Bobby mentioned that it was Cyclope’s, or Scott’s car, but they got in anyway, Logan didn’t care. Logan hijacked the car with one of his claws and they went speeding off. Towards Boston. 

On the car ride to Boston, Bobby mentioned once again that his parents live in Boston and that they could stay there for a while, till things cool down. The ride was dreadfully tense and boring for the four. Pyro tried to turn on the radio, but Logan turned it off. The rest of the ride was pretty silent, until they finally got to Bobby’s parents' house. Bobby tried to call out to his family, but there seemed to be no one home. 

“Hold up, if there is going to be any more trouble, shouldn't we have a backup?” Rogue brought up as everyone sat down in the living room after getting themselves together with food and new clothes. 

“Yeah, hold on.” Bobby spoke before he left the room for a moment. 

Meanwhile, Logan wandered around the home, making his way into the kitchen. He then suddenly heard a small noise, quickly turning around and pulling out his claws. Right before the claws was a cat. It meowed at him and then began to lick one of the claws, which made Logan slightly smile before he heard Bobby come back into the living room.

“She will be here soon, she just has to pack a few things.” Bobby stated, sitting back down next to Rogue on the couch.

Pyro sat in an armchair in the corner, fidgeting with his lighter, “Who did you call?”

“Ghostbusters. Who do you think I called?” Bobby asked with sarcasm, seemingly frustrated as Pyro rolled his eyes. “I called Prof. L/N. She can help us.” 

“She can’t really help us a lot though, all she can do is teleport.” Pyro said, irritated, playing with his lighter again.

“She is still an adult who can help us, aside from Logan.” Bobby stated thoughtfully, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch, his fingers grazing Rogue’s shoulder. 

Logan wandered to the entrance of the living room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, “When is she going to get here anyway?” 

“She said it may take a few minutes. She is just packing for the weather here. Plus, she has to concentrate to even get here correctly.” Bobby explained.

“What if she doesn’t concentrate?” Rogue asked curiously, looking up at her boyfriend beside her who just shrugged.

“She will teleport somewhere way off of where she is supposed to be.” Bobby explained once again.

Logan raised an eyebrow, confused, “How do you know so much about this?”

“In one of my classes with her, she had to teleport to get some papers she had forgotten. When she came back, she said she accidentally teleported into a different room. Said something along the lines of not concentrating long enough.” Bobby said, Logan nodded, understanding; his mind now racing with more questions about you.

Soon the big front doors opened to Bobby’s parents and brother; Steven and Madeline Drake, with their teenage son, Ronny.

“Bobby!?” Ronny shouted, shocked to see his big brother home.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at school? Who are these people?” Bobby’s mother asked, concerned as she looked at the three new people in her home.

Bobby cleared his throat, “Mom, Dad… This is… Professor Logan.” He introduced the man, still leaned against the wall. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Bobby proceeded.

Everyone sat in the living room, silence filled the room around them. Everyone was tense and still, almost suffocating. The only thing that made a sound was Pyro’s lighter being opened and closed repeatedly.

“So… When did you first know… That you were a… Um…” Bobby’s mother was lost with her words, she could not bring herself to say that word, but Pyro finished her question.

“A mutant?”

“Would you cut that out?” She inquired, lightly glaring at Pyro who was repeatedly opening and closing his lighter, which was annoying almost everyone in the room.

“You have to understand, we thought Bobby was going to a school for the gifted.” Bobby’s father said.

“Bobby is gifted.” Rogue added urgently, standing up for Bobby.

Bobby’s father let out a sigh, hesitant, “We know that. We just didn’t realize that he was…”

Before he could finish his sentence, his wife cut him off. “We still love you. It’s just that… The mutant problem is very…”

She was then cut off by Logan. “What mutant problem?” He asked, his crossed arms tightening slightly in annoyance.

“...Complicated.” She finished, seemingly upset by Logan cutting her off.

“And what are you a professor of, Mr. Logan?” Bobby’s dad asked, interlacing his fingers in his lap.

“Art.” Logan smartly fabricated, his fib was simple, the first thing that came to his mind.

The air was thick with tension but Rogue tried to lighten the uncomfortable mood. “You should see what Bobby can do.” She spoke up, proud of her boyfriend and his powers.

While Bobby’s mom took a drink of her tea and sat the tea cup down, Bobby reached out and gently touched the cup with his finger, the contents in the cup froze over and became frozen solid. From the corner of Ronny’s eye, he saw it happen, becoming frightened. Bobby’s mom gently flipped her cup to the side, the now iced tea flipping over into a dome shape on the plate she was holding. She sat the plate down on the coffee table in front of her, surprise evident in her eyes. The family cat jumped on top of the table and began licking the iced tea.

“I can do a lot more than that.” Bobby said, proud of himself for finally coming out with the truth but Ronny got up from his place on the couch and ran upstairs, upset.

“Ronny!?” His mother hollered after him, but it was too late, he had already run upstairs and into his room. “This is all my fault.” She spoke to herself, running a hand through her hair.

“Actually they discovered that males are the ones who carry the mutant gene and pass it on, so it's his fault.” Pyro said, giving a slight gesture to Bobby’s dad. 

Logan walked out of the house for a moment when his phone rang. Leaving Bobby’s mother asking her son a terrible question.

“Bobby, have you tried… Not being a mutant?”

A few seconds passed and a bright light enlightened near the front door. Everyone covered their eyes and waited for the light to dim before they saw you. You stood there with a small smile, holding your backpack that was slung over your left shoulder. You were dressed in lighter clothes, since you weren’t in Alaska anymore.

“Who are you?” Bobby’s mother demanded, confused and startled as she stared at you with wide eyes.

“Sorry I startled you all. My name is Y/N L/N, I’m Bobby’s Biology Professor.” You replied, placing your backpack on the floor next to you. “Sorry if I interrupted anything, Bobby called me if anything goes wrong.” You responded, moving your hair away from your face, exposing your eye-patch.

“What do you do?” Bobby’s dad asked, and you clasped your hands together in front of you.

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh, like my superpowers? Well, I can teleport and… Uh, yeah.” You responded clumsily, shuffling your foot against the hardwood floor, looking down anxiously. “Well, this is… Awkward.” You laughed out lightly, trying to ease you and the others in the room.

A few minutes passed and there was still a bit of tension here and there with Bobby’s family and Bobby’s friends. Everything was alright for the time being before the sound of sirens grew outside the house, becoming louder and louder. Before you knew it, you were trapped inside with cops around the whole house. You and the others soon found out that Ronny had called the police.

Logan, Bobby, Rogue, and Pyro went outside while you stayed inside, keeping the family out of harm's way. Logan had his claws out, in front of the entire police squad. 

“This is just a misunderstanding.” Logan said, to the kids and himself.

“Put the knives down!” One of the cops, a few feet away ordered, his gun raised.

Logan turned to the cop, “I can’t.” Moments passed and the police officer looked at him confused. “Look.” Logan said slowly, raising his hand to the side of him, but before he could retract his claws the police officer shot him in the forehead.

Rogue screamed as he fell to the ground, a bullet stuck in his forehead. He was unconscious, eyes closed as Rogue felt tears well up in her eyes. 

“Alright, the rest of you on the ground now!” The same police officer commanded Bobby, Rogue, and Pyro. They slowly got to the ground, except Pyro. He looked at the police officer, breathing heavily. “Look, kid, I said now!” The cop repeated, his gun aimed at Pyro.

A woman police officer looked slightly worried from beyond a bush. “We don’t want to hurt you kid!” She shouted out.

On their places on the ground, Bobby and Rogue looked up to Pyro, who looked pissed off, his eyes narrowed and his nose flaring. “You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news? I’m the worst one.” Pyro announced, while doing so, he flipped open his lighter, looking over to the police officer who shot Logan. Fire erupted from his lighter and into his hand. Pyro harnessed the fire’s flames, shooting it towards the officer. The officer flew backward off the porch and to the ground. Pyro began shooting fire at every police officer, knocking them down, and burning them in the process. Cars exploded into the sky as Pyro’s fire hit it, causing more fire to erupt.

From his window on the second floor, Ronny watched in horror as all the police officers flew around and fell to the ground from the power that the fire harnessed. More police officers drove up in their cars, but Pyro sent them off course with another car, which burst into more flames. Rogue had seen enough, she pulled off her glove and raised Pyro’s pant leg, exposing his leg. She then placed her hand on his leg, stealing his breath slowly, and causing the flames to disappear. His terror on the police had ended.

Meanwhile, Logan, who was on the ground still, his bullet slowly popped out of his forehead, his wound now fully healed. He opened his eyes and slowly got up. Up above, a jet flew above. It slowly landed andBobby, Rogue, Pyro, and Logan got up. Logan tilted his head to the side, earning a crack as you ran outside and looked at the jet. 

“What happened? Was anyone hurt?” You asked as they all stared at the jet landing.

“Nope, all good.” Bobby said quickly, as you nodded, taking in the damage around you that had been caused by Pyro.

You teleported onto the jet, not really having to walk.You quickly made it to a seat, strapping yourself into the seat. Ororo headed to the cockpit. Nightcrawler popped up from behind a chair. The three kids shrieked.

“Guten Morgan.”  He stated, a grin on his face. 

“Guten Abend. Who are you?” Logan demanded, staring at the mutant skeptically.

“Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich Circus I was known as “The Incredible-” 

He was cut off by Logan. “Save it. Storm?” Logan called out to the cockpit, slightly annoyed.

“We’re out of here.” She spoke up as she grabbed the controls and flew the jet out of there.

------

@ashdoctor @powergirlsupremacy

Slashed out means Tumblr won't let me tag you.

[forhappysake]

What Lurks Within, Pt. 11

Author's Note: This is it, final chapter!

Content: Four team members debrief in the hospital after the Denver case is officially closed. Subsequently, Spencer and Y/N do some reflecting on their relationship and all they've been through together.

Warnings: Established relationship, fluff, some angst if you squint, mentions of death and violence, references to the Season 12 finale/first episode of Season 13, hospital setting

Beep… Beep… Beep…

Not again. I groaned as I turned over in the hospital bed. I had been removed from my comfortable clothing, placed in a cheap hospital gown once more. Another IV drip was attached to my hand, and those tiny EKG stickies were back to their position all over my chest. 

“Good morning,” sang a familiar voice. Luke stood at my bedside, holding a glass of water. I groaned in response. 

“Why am I here again?” I asked. 

“Because after we got Spencer in the car, you passed out,” he said. “The doctors said you’d only been running on shock and adrenaline. Once that wore off, your body gave out.” 

“Oh no,” I whispered, “did Spencer see me pass out? That’s so embarrassing.” I covered my face with my hands. 

Luke laughed, “He sure did. He did his best to help load you into the back of the SUV with him. We brought you both here at the same time. He’s just down the hall.”

I leaned forward in my bed, looking around the room. Instead of a walker, someone had left me a wheelchair this time. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I said. 

“It’s either wheelchair or nowhere,” Luke rhymed. I sighed, motioning for him to bring the wheelchair over by the bed. He did so without a word, helping to lower me into the seat. “Do you think they’ll pay me extra since I’ve spent so much time as your nurse during this case?” I rolled my eyes, choosing not to respond as he pushed me down the hallway towards another hospital room. 

He stopped me in front of the door, leaning over to knock. JJ’s voice rang out from inside, “Come in!” Luke swung the door open and pushed me into the room as I took in the sight. 

JJ sat perched at the edge of the bed as Spencer, also in a hospital gown, thumbed through a book in his hands. “You’re awake!” JJ said excitedly. She rushed over and bent down to my level, offering me a gentle hug. 

“I so am,” I said, “ and I see someone else is too.” Spencer beamed at me, closing his book and tossing it carelessly on to the bed. Luke wheeled me over to his side. 

“Y/N, I was so worried,” he reached his hands out to me as he intertwined our fingers. 

“Me too,” I whispered. I felt tears pricking at the corner of my eyes. A stray tear felt down my cheek and Spencer gently wiped it away with his thumb. I laughed, trying to make light of the situation. “So, what’s your diagnosis?”

“Hmm,” Spencer thought for a moment, “nothing major.” He shrugged as best he could, a small smirk forming on his bruised cheek. 

JJ let out a laugh from the corner of the room, “He’s got three broken ribs, a bruised lung, and a concussion.” 

I dropped my jaw at him. “That doesn’t sound like ‘nothing major,’ Spencer.”

“As if you’re much better off,” he scoffed. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, turning to face Luke. 

“What’s wrong with me?” I asked. 

Luke sighed, “Let me think. You’ve got a busted head, concussion, and you did have a small brain bleed, but the doctors think that’s over now.” 

“Oh,” I said, widening my eyes and glancing at Spencer. “Maybe we are in the same boat.” He smiled and nodded a bit, wincing as he leaned back in the bed, our hands still intertwined. 

“Wait,” I piped up again, “what happened to the Graydons?”

“Mira was dead by the time the ambulance arrived,” Luke said, the energy in the room becoming more somber. 

I nodded, “What about the other two?” 

JJ spoke this time, “Phillip Graydon’s been booked in connection to multiple murders. The former Chief Graydon has been officially removed from the force and will stand trial for aiding and abetting, as well as obstructing a criminal investigation. Ryan Whittendon has been promoted to Chief of Police.” I nodded, satisfied with her answer as silence fell over the room again. Spencer and I processed the information without a word. 

Spencer glanced up at our teammates standing in the corner of the room,“Luke, JJ, do you think you could leave us alone for a minute? I’d like to talk to Y/N in private.” 

Luke and JJ looked at each other, raising their eyebrows. Luke sighed dramatically, “Alright, but no funny business. Neither one of you are fit to be banging-” JJ smacked Luke on the shoulder and he gasped in playful shock, “What the hell was that for?” 

“Get out of this room, now,” JJ said, turning on her “mom” voice and scolding him. Luke smirked, opening the door and leading JJ out of the room. She turned and mouthed the word ‘sorry’ before shutting it behind her. I couldn’t help but giggle, and I saw Spencer try to suppress his laugh for the sake of his broken ribs. 

I shook my head, turning my attention back to the man on the bed next to me. “Anyway, what do you want to talk about, Spence?” 

He looked at me as he bit his lip nervously, trying to come up with the right phrase. “I’m not sure the proper way to start this conversation,” he said. An anxious feeling crept into my chest. 

“Uh oh,” I laughed nervously, “you’re only speechless when it's serious.” 

He nodded, “It is kind of serious, actually.” I winced a bit at the thought and he squeezed my hand to offer some comfort. 

I sighed, “Well, you know I’m impatient. What’s on your brain?”

He didn’t waste any time. “Do you remember when we were in the SUV the other day, on the way to Andrews’ house, and we talked about how we don’t like to talk about what happened to us?” His eyes scanned my own, looking for some sign of understanding. 

“I remember. I had a brain bleed, not amnesia,” I half-joked. 

“Right,” he said. Spencer paused for a moment, scanning my face again. “Well, I… I think we should talk about it.” 

I sighed, leaning back in the wheelchair. I let my hand slip out of his as I did so, using my now-freed hand to play with the hem of the hospital gown I was in. “I get what you mean, but what is there to talk about, Spencer?” 

“Listen,” he started as he readjusted himself in the hospital bed so he could better face me. “Something Emily said the other day got me thinking. We’ve never really stopped to talk about what happened from your perspective.” 

I shook my head, “Spencer, what happened wasn’t about me. You’re the one who suffered all those months. I was just a part of her game.” 

He returned the shake of his head. “It was just as much about you as it was about me. She played with both of us, Y/N.” 

I stared off into the corner of the room. Conversations from that night replayed in my head: 

“I wonder what your little girlfriend will have to say about all this. What, with the baby and everything,” Cat said, sitting across from Spencer. I stared at her from my spot behind the one-way glass, JJ by my side. I stood with my arms crossed. 

“I hope you have more luck with her than the last one,” Cat used her hand to make the shape of a gun. Holding it to her temple, she pretended to shoot herself, falling back dramatically in the chair. 

“Don’t talk about her,” Spencer said quietly. 

Cat had laughed, cocking her head back and twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. “Which one? The dead one? Or the one that’s definitely staring at me from behind the glass.” She leaned over so that I could see her more clearly, offering me a small wave. 

“Don’t talk about either one of them,” Spencer said, rising from his chair to pace around the room for a moment. 

“I’d like to see her,” Cat said. “The live one, that is.” My breath hitched in my throat as Spencer turned and walked out of the interrogation room into the observation room. He didn’t look at me, pacing nervously around the room. 

“What do I do?” he asked JJ. “I’m not letting her drag Y/N into this.” 

I cleared my throat, “I am right here, you know.” He stopped pacing, turning to look at me as JJ did so too. “I can handle it. Tell me how to play her game.”

Spencer’s eyes looked me up and down. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair before rubbing his tired eyes. “I don’t want you to play into her fantasy. Her goal when you are in the room is going to be to give you every reason to leave me,” he said. 

JJ nodded, “You act as the reality in the room. She has this made-up idea of her and Spencer being some kind of romantic trope. You’re the thing that messes that up in her head. Hopefully your physical presence will do the same.”

“Okay,” I said. I walked over to the door. Spencer crossed the room in three large steps, swinging the door open and entering first. I followed close behind him, eyes adjusting to the fluorescent light over the table. 

“Well, well, well,” Cat said. She reached out her hand and offered me a fake smile, “Cat Adams, pleasure to meet you.” I ignored her hand, instead choosing to sit down next to Spencer. 

“I heard you wanted to speak with me,” I said. I examined my nails, then tapped them lightly on the table, leaning on my other hand. 

She continued twirling a hair around her finger, “Well, she is cute,” she said to Spencer, raising an eyebrow. 

I snapped my fingers in front of her face once, “Excuse me, I was told someone wanted to talk to me, not him. If I’m not wanted, I’m happy to excuse myself,” I started to rise from the table, but she quickly spoke up again, raising a hand. 

“Hold it. I’m not done yet.” 

I plopped myself back down in the chair. “What do you want to know?” I asked. 

“Why would a pretty thing like you choose to be with Spencer Reid?” Spencer almost winced at the use of his full name. 

I had to disturb the fantasy. “Well, if you must know,” I cleared my throat, “it really comes down to fantastic sex.” Spencer shifted awkwardly in his seat. 

Cat didn’t like that answer, nearly snarling. She quickly composed herself. “Funny that I’m the one who's having his baby,” she retorted.

“I always thought I’d be a young, hot stepmother,” I joked. She didn’t like that response either, learning back against the cool metal of her seat. 

She scoffed. Her plan wasn’t working. “You have no idea what he’s done.” I narrowed my eyes at her, rising from my seat and leaning across the table. 

“Enlighten me,” I said quietly. She clammed up. She was one statement away from giving up the final answer to her entire game. “Yeah,” I said, “that’s what I thought.” With that statement, I turned on my heel and left the interrogation room. 

I snapped back to reality as Spencer stared at me, letting me take my time to think through it all. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“I’m just thinking about what happened,” I said quietly. I looked at him for a moment before I returned my gaze to the corner of the room. “We spent that whole night in the interrogation room. Your mom came home, thank God. You guys left to go home. The rest of us piled into that SUV. It was a dumb move, all of us being out there at once,” I shook my head. “I don’t remember much. We hit the spikes, something hit us, my leg hurt. I passed out.” 

Spencer nodded. “Keep going,” he encouraged gently.

“I woke up on the way to the hospital, and they wouldn’t let me call anyone. They kept telling me I had to lay still and that they’d call my emergency contact. I didn’t want them to call you, because I knew you’d panic,” I sighed, the throbbing pain in the back of my head was returning with all this memory recall.  

He sat in silence, waiting for me to go on, and I did. “I think I passed out again. I know they took me into surgery at some point. When I woke up, I was in a hospital room,” I shuddered at the thought. “I think I was…” I paused, trying to decide how truthful to be in that moment. 

“You think you were what?” Spencer asked. 

“When I woke up alone, I was angry. I was angry at you because I felt like you’d abandoned me there, and I was angry at myself for feeling that way towards you after everything you’d been through.”

Spencer nodded. “You had every right to feel that way, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Spencer, you were saving Emily’s life. Don’t be sorry.” 

“No, Y/N,” he started. Spencer paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I was there before you woke up. I could have stayed, and I didn’t. I ran away.” I raised an eyebrow at this new bit of information. 

“Why, Spence?” I asked. 

He sighed, searching for the right words again. “When you got out of surgery, they took me back to your room. You looked so exhausted. I thought of all the things you’d been through for my sake. I just… I didn’t know what I’d say if you woke up while I was there. I decided it would be best for both of us if I went back to the office, but really it was my own selfish fear.”

“So we’re both terrible people?” I asked, jokingly. He sighed, wincing again when his diaphragm expanded. “I’m kidding,” I said, “we were both scared, Spencer.” 

The room was quiet after that. I leaned my battered head forward on top of his hand, using it as a makeshift pillow. I heard Spencer gasp when he noticed the bandages on the back of my head.  

“I thought you died last night,” Spencer whispered. I could hear the break in his voice and envision the tears in his eyes without so much as lifting my head.  

“For a couple minutes, so did I,” I answered quietly. I lifted my head to look at him. “But, I didn’t.” 

Spencer smiled, cupping my face with one of his hands. “You didn’t.”

“And neither did you,” I said, offering him a playful poke on the thigh. He suppressed another laugh, leaning back further into the hospital bed. “Well, I should probably let you get some rest,” I said. I leaned back from the bed, easing myself further down into my wheelchair. 

“Where are you going to go?” Spencer asked, with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t think you’re exactly fit to travel.”

“I’m going to make Luke find me a vending machine, because I am starving. Do you want anything?” Deja vu from before this all started, from our late-night back in the bullpen, hit me like a truck:

“Considering neither of us are making any groundbreaking discoveries, I’m gonna run to the vending machine. Do you want anything?” I swiveled my chair back around in his direction, awaiting his reply.

He looked up for a moment, seeming to give it some thought before shaking his head. “No thanks, Y/N. I really appreciate the offer, though.” He gave me a small nod. 

“No problem, brainiac. I’ll be back in a few.”

Spencer seemed to recall the memory too. “You know what, this time, I think I’ll take you up on that.” 

I smiled, turning towards the door. “Luke!” I shouted. In a few moments, the door burst open. 

“What's wrong?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow with his hand on his pistol. Clearly he thought my call for him was of a much more serious nature.

“We really want something to eat,” I said with a smile, which Spencer mirrored with full enthusiasm.

---------------------------------------------------------------- THE ENDDDDD

This has been so fun to write, I can't wait to do more in the future. Don't be afraid to lmk what you think <3

[zobae]

HxH 405 Thoughts

Bonolenov....apologies...I wasn't familiar with your game....

I may be as crazy as Hisoka, but I see where he's coming from calling himself 'normal.' Compared to the other characters that inhabit HxH, he is pretty normal, or, at least, straight-forward and understandable. Dude just wants to have fights where your lives are on the line against opponents that make him sweat but, ultimately, have him come out on top. Seeing him against the backdrop of the Succession War only emphasises that. Last chapter, a guy kills his own physical body deliberately to further his own goals. Psycho-clown seems rather pedestrian in comparison. His comment about playing solataire/playing by himself with the immediate reveal of bono!Hisoka is...concerning.

Bonolenov is really setting off all the death flags right now. Multiple comments have been made regarding how he's a bad matchup for Hisoka, gets sentimental in the chapter and thinks about what'll happen after Hisoka is dealt with, alone and trying to contact other members of the Troupe...its really bonolenover now.

The number 9 Pakunoda hint hurt and Chrollo realky needs to give up his whole mysterious act. Literally ain't nobody believes it, except him.

Also, I don't think the Phantom Troupe were the guys to kill Sarasa's murderer. Why would they cover it up if the PT did it? Its not like the media is on their side and they're known to be a roving band of murderous thieves. There's definitely something more going on. I think Chrollo would've been involved in his death somehow but maybe working with someone more famous/impotant?

Interesting that Ken'i seems to know more abouy Morena then he is letting on and seemingly on her side. Funny that three people getting told about her has him sweating about their plans. Nobunaga just has that dog in him.

Also, Dogman's ability is so ???. I doubt that's his only ability given how the stories talked about him. I'm really curious about the rest of the Heil-ly's abilities. So far, their abilities seem rather to bely a rather naivite and inexperience with nen. It seems to be a lot of this is the problem, therefore we create a nen ability exactly to solve that problem. There's not a lot of imagination in their nen abilities. Hence, we have guy who can only teleport non-nen users. We are also looking for a specific guy. Therefore, my ability will be to find out a persons specific nen type and proficiency with nen.

That's all information you can know about someone without needing a nen ability (i.e. Furykov) but they don't have time to be learning all that. Plus, if you're planning to destory everything, you don't really need to worry about the long-term ramifications of your nen ability. The nature of Contagion also means that there should be a multiplying supply of new nen users that can be relied should you need a specific problem to be solved. Everytime an issues comes up, get one of the new guys to come up with a nen ability to solve that specific issue.

Honestly forgot about the whole door thing that even started this side quest. I hope Togashi shows us what's inside before cutting away next chapter.

[andromythical]

im dangerously obsessed with frank zhang rn so here's a "little" thing about him bc people don't realize how complex his character is. Buckle in cause this is a long one.

Frank arrived at camp (correct me if I'm wrong) about two weeks after his mother died. The night of the funeral was the night he found out he could die at any moment if a wooden stick caught fire. (Again, please feel free to correct me about the timeline and stuff.) Frank travelled from Vancouver, Canada to California. A 415 HOUR WALK. As far as we know, he did it illegally too. All while still dealing with the fact that his mother had recently passed and his (low-key kinda neglectful) grandmother was now his legal guardian.

We see how in the first few chapters, just how much Frank is drawn to archery, his grandmother even chastising him about his obsession. He wishes to be claimed by Apollo. Yet, after he wins the war games for his cohort, he is claimed by Mars. Mars, the god of war. The god of violence. The god of what killed his mother. Frank couldn't be less like him, or so we think. Of course, Frank doesn't want to be violent, but it's shown on multiple occasions how his first instinct is to fight.

When he sets off on his quest, there was no way for him to know what would lay ahead. There was no way to know that he would meet Iris, who would show him his gift. Speaking of Iris, however, this where something very interesting happens. Iris claims he is connected to the stick because he 'had too many gifts'. This confused me on my first read, because how could he have too many gifts? He could shapeshift, sure, but it's not like he had any other major powers or anything. That's where I was wrong. It was confirmed in a book, I can't remember which one, that children of Mars and Ares have control over the dead, as long as they were on the losing side of a battle. So no, he doesn't only have one power. He certainly has skills, too. He is gifted in war strategy and tactics, as well. Making him an absolute unit in combat.

Of course, how could I talk about SoN with our bringing up the whole Zhang mansion chaos? It begins with Frank, Hazel and Percy in desperation. They resort to going to his 'grandmother's house' as he calls it. Not his house, his grandmother's. (This has absolutely no significance I just wanted to point it out). His grandmother is quite literally on her death bed when they arrive, Mars at her side. When Frank and his father have a one on one, Mars mentions how he is 'Junos secret weapon'. While talking about Gaia, he mentions that - in a direct quote - " I think you worry her more than Percy or Jason or any of the seven." This ties back to Iris' comment. He is too powerful.

Grandmother Zhang seems very shitty, and for the most part is. She has told Frank that "Men do not cry, especially not Zhang men" which we can see ties into a quote further on in the book, after the mansion catches fire and they're on the plane back. Percy mentions that "Frank kept his head down, as if he was ashamed to have been crying."

What people don't mention about Frank as much, is that he lost his only family about a month or so apart. A month.

People don't like Frank because of his conflict with Leo, but what people choose to ignore is the fact that the arguments started after Frank started hearing Mars and Ares in his head. And as we see in HoH, Mars and Ares are very pushy. Some of his behaviour could be contributed to his anger at Mars, who he now hears encouraging him to fight the Greeks at every opportunity, and some could also be contributed to Leo himself, who caused the Mars and Ares fiasco, and who also teases him at every chance he gets.

it's getting very long now and I'm getting very unmotivated so I'm gonna leave it here and if I think of anything else I'll edit it :3

The moment we've all been waiting for... the Venice incident, when Frank killed between 200-300 monsters. He was blessed by Mars afterwards, and is described to have been more confident. Even Leo had stopped teasing him.

And THIS, dear readers, is why Frank is the physical embodiment of "I'm not a violent dog, I don't know why I bite."

[thatonelesbianfander]

The Ghost and the Reaper Chapter 1

Fandom// Sanders Sides

TW// Blood/Gore, Death mention, Murder mention, Weapons, Yelling/Screaming, Swearing, Strong emotions, Fire, Homophobia

Word count// 2242

Description// Janus is one of the many reapers whose job it is to reap the souls of the dead and help them ascend to the afterlife. After one assignment, the spirit they reaped, a 23-year-old nonbinary person named Remus, refused to ascend. Now, Janus is stuck with them following it around wherever they go.

Characters// Remus Sanders, Janus Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, C!Thomas Sanders

Pairings// Slight Demus/Dukeceit mention

AUs// Found/chosen family Creativitwins & C!Thomas, human!sides, they/them Remus, it/they Janus, he/she Roman

Masterpost // Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Janus looked at the sight in front of them, a solemn expression on their face. In front of them laid a man, multiple bullet holes in his body. Around them, people walked off, their voices clashing together. Janus didn’t really worry about the other people that much though. Silently, they took a handle out of the pocket of its pants, the handle extending itself out and turning into a scythe. Janus raised the scythe above their head, about to strike the man’s body before they were interrupted.

“Whatcha doing, JanJan,” a voice asked. Janus backed up a little, startled by the sudden unexpected noise. They looked back to find Remus, a spirit they had reaped a few months earlier. The sight of Remus wasn’t really a great sight to see. Their whole body was covered in scratches. One of their legs was covered in blood with only a few pieces of skin visible, and the other leg was practically all gore. The one side of their head was covered in blood and a part of their brain was visible. Their one eye socket was missing an eye, blood dripped out of it instead. It was not pretty. Remus floated behind Janus, seemingly sitting on thin air.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Remus! What the hell?! Don’t do that!” Janus yelled, startled.

“Jesus! Sorry!” Remus said. Remus looked off behind Janus, seeing the guy behind Janus.

“Woah, what happened to him? He has to have like 20 bullet holes in him,” Remus said, looking at the guy.

“Execution via firing squad. Apparently, this guy abused his wife and kids and then snapped at a party they were having for his eldest daughter’s birthday. Ended up murdering everyone at that party except for his eldest daughter, and a few of the cousins before being arrested,” Janus said.

“Damn, what an asshole,” Remus said.

“Yes, I agree. Now, go away and let me do my job,” Janus said, swiping his scythe at the guy’s body. The guy’s spirit rose from his body, the guy stumbling back a little before regaining his balance. He looked at Janus, falling to his knees and clasping his hands.

“My lord, Jesus! It is an honor to be in your presence! Though, you do look a little different from how I thought you would look like…” The guy said. Remus started to laugh, Janus glaring at them.

“You really think, they’re Jesus?! This dork, with their stupid suspenders and nerdy glasses!” Remus laughed.

“Remus, shut the fuck up,” Janus said, glaring at Remus.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” the guy asked, looking over at Remus.

“I’m his boyfriend~” Remus said, making kissing gestures towards Janus.

“The fuck you aren’t?! We’re not even friends?! Besides, both you and me don’t even identify as male?!” Janus said, annoyed.

“Ew! Gay people are disgusting! You two are sinners! I-” the guy started.

“Alright, enough of this. I’m not going to listen to the rants of a disgusting murderous homophobe. Go to hell,” Janus said, swiping the guy with his scythe. The guy immediately burst into flames, screaming in pain as he disappeared. Janus adjusted its hat before turning towards Remus.

“Now, why the hell would you tell him that?!” Janus asked.

“Because, annoying you is funny?” Remus said. Janus sighed, retracting their scythe and putting it back into its pocket. The two looked at the guy’s body.

“This is pretty messed up,” Remus said, floating over to the guy and kicking his arm with their foot.

“Eh, your death was probably worse, considering all the screaming and crying and shit,” Janus replied, pulling a screen up and swiping through a list. It crossed the guy’s name off their list.

“Besides, after doing this for 5 years now, you kind of get desensitized to everything,” Janus continued.

“Oh yeah, I forgot you became a reaper after you died at 18,” Remus said, “Damn, that’s crazy to think about.”

“Died at 19, but yeah, I guess it is pretty crazy,” Janus said, looking at the screen and swiping through the list of names.

“So, where to next?” Remus asked.

“Well, I need to visit the graveyard, apparently a few spirits are having trouble ascending. I also have one more spirit I need to reap before I can break for the day,” Janus replied.

“Then, let’s head over to the graveyard,” Remus suggested.

“You mean, let me head over to the graveyard, and you just follow me to annoy me?” Janus replied.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Last one to the graveyard is a loser!” Remus said, fading out of view.

“Oh, you little-” Janus started before also fading out of view.

Janus reappeared in the graveyard, Remus floating in front of it.

“Lmao, loser. I win,” Remus said, Janus glaring at them.

“Fuck off, you cheated,” Janus said, adjusting its suspender straps. The two heard talking off in the distance.

“That must be them. You stay here, don’t get in my way. Just let me do my job, so we can get out of here,” Janus said.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Remus replied, rolling their eye. Janus walked off, out of Remus’s sight. Remus leaned back, crossing their legs and looking up at the sky. The sun shined brightly, but it didn’t affect Remus’s eye. Clouds moved throughout the sky. Remus looked around at the clouds, seeing what shapes they could find. They smiled sadly to themself, thinking about their twin sibling, Roman. Nothing could describe how much they missed him. He was basically their other half, and they never really felt full without her. Remus looked over to the side, seeing a person wearing a green vest walking towards them. They jumped a little, the person walking right through them and sitting next to a nearby grave. The person put the flowers they had been holding down in front of the grave, sighing.

“Oh, Remus… I’m so sorry…” the person said. Remus floated down, standing on the ground and walking towards the person.

“Roman…” Remus said under their breath. They walked closer to Roman, reaching their hand out before they heard Janus yell.

“Remus! What do you think you’re doing?! You know the rules! You don’t touch the living!” Janus yelled.

“Oh, so what?! I can’t comfort my sibling when she’s in distress?!” Remus replied back, annoyed.

“Literally, the whole point of that rule is so that the dead doesn’t interfere with the living! There would be drastic consequences if you did!” Janus said, walking over towards Remus.

“And what if the people who told you that are wrong or lying?” Remus asked.

“And what if they’re not?” Janus replied, glaring at Remus with their arms crossed.

“Whatever. You said so yourself, you’re not my friend, so why should I listen to you?” Remus responded, rolling their eye.

“Because I’ve been doing this longer than you! I know things,” Janus said. Remus rolled their eye, starting to float again.

“Now, come on. Let’s go get this last assignment over with, so I can go back to my apartment and chill,” Janus said, fading out of view. Remus looked down to their sibling, tears falling down their cheek. Remus plucked a leaf from the tree nearby, letting it fall down in front of Roman. Roman picked the leaf up, looking around while holding the leaf. Remus smiled softly, looking at their sibling while fading out of sight. They reappeared behind Janus, Janus talking to the spirit in front of them.

“So, what happens now?” the spirit asked.

“Well, it looks like you have some unfinished business, so you’ll need to finish that before you’re able to ascend. I would recommend starting with the smaller tasks first, and working your way up,” Janus said, handing the spirit a slip. Remus floated over to the two, hovering behind Janus.

“Alright, thanks,” the spirit said.

“No problem. If you ever need me, you can just call my name on that slip, and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Janus replied.

“So, who’s this?” Remus asked.

“Oh, I’m Patton, and you are?” Patton responded.

“Remus, nice to meet you!” Remus said.

“You too!” Patton replied, smiling.

“Alright, we better go. Have a nice night,” Janus said, waving and fading out of view. Remus followed suit.

The two reappeared in the living room of Janus’s apartment. Janus put its scythe on the table near the door, walking to its room.

“I’m getting changed. You find something to do,” Janus said, closing the bedroom door behind them. Remus floated over to the couch, sitting down and turning on the TV. They watched the TV as Janus changed into more comfortable clothes. Janus walked out of the bedroom, sitting down on the couch next to Remus. Remus looked away from Janus, watching the TV.

“Hey, I…” Janus started.

“What?” Remus responded, cutting Janus off.

“I’m sorry about yelling at you in the graveyard, it’s just…” Janus started again before trailing off.

“Yes?” Remus asked, looking at Janus angrily.

“Look, you know the rules. You know why we can’t interact-” Janus said.

“AND WHAT IF THEY’RE LYING?!” Remus cut Janus off, Janus looking towards Remus, “ALL I WANTED WAS TO COMFORT MY SIBLING SO HE DOESN’T END UP LIKE ME! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?! OUR FATHER ALREADY LOST ONE SIBLING, I DON’T WANT HIM TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE EMOTIONAL DISTRESS OF LOSING ANOTHER AFTER ONLY A FEW MONTHS OF LOSING THE FIRST!” Remus’s eye teared up. They put their hands on their head, curling up. Janus frowned.

“Remus…” Janus said, reaching over to Remus.

“Why did I have to be so stupid… I died and I couldn’t even say goodbye to them… I had to watch as my twin sobbed in the back of that stupid ambulance and begged me to stay, and I could do nothing to comfort her! I had to watch as his whole world was shattered to pieces, and all I could do was lay down on that stupid cot and bleed to death,” Remus sobbed, rocking back and forth. Janus frowned, moving closer to Remus. They put an arm around Remus as Remus sobbed.

“Hey. It’s going to be okay! You’ll see them again eventually!” Janus said, trying to cheer Remus up.

“You’re not helping,” Remus said, pushing Janus away.

“I-” Janus started.

“Don’t start. I’m just going to go to the graveyard for the night. I don’t want to be around you right now,” Remus said, fading out of view. Janus sighed, putting a hand to its face. They pulled the screen back up, scrolling through the list of names again and crossing Patton’s name off the list of names that needed to be reaped. It pulled up another list, writing Patton’s name down. They looked at Remus’s name, tapping on their name to pull up a little profile.

“Remus Sanders-Kingstone, Aged: 23, Death date: June 4, 2023, Reaper on duty: Janus, Ascension status: not ascended” the profile read. Janus sighed, scribbling a note down on the notes section of the profile before swiping it away. They put the screen away, turning the TV off and laying down on the couch. They closed their eyes, drifting off to sleep.

Remus reappeared in the graveyard, angrily kicking at a tree.

“Stupid Janus! Stupid rules! I wish I had never died in the first place!” Remus said angrily beating against the tree until they had let their emotions wear out. They looked over towards their grave to find their sibling, who still sat at their grave. Another man walked up to Roman, sitting down next to him.

“I figured I would find you here…” Thomas said, looking towards Roman. Roman looked over to the man, looking back down at the ground.

“Hey, Pa…” Roman said.

“Roman, you’ve been out here for an hour now… Why don’t you come back home? It’s almost dark out…” Thomas said, putting a hand on Roman’s shoulder.

“What’s the point of going back home, if they’re not going to be there?” Roman said, still looking down at the ground.

“Roman…” Thomas replied. Tears started to fill Roman’s eyes. Thomas pulled Roman into a hug, Roman sobbing into the man’s shoulder. Thomas rocked the two back and forth, holding Roman in his arms.

“I miss them so much, Pa! It’s so difficult without them here!” Roman sobbed.

“I know, buddy… I know… It’s okay… I’m here…” Thomas said, holding Roman close. Remus stepped closer to the two, a sad expression on their face. Thomas stood up, holding a hand out to Roman.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s go home,” Thomas said. Roman took Thomas’s hand, holding it as the two walked away. Remus floated above their grave, watching as the two walked out of their view. Remus looked down at the flowers Roman had placed at their grave. Green roses, Remus’s favorite. They picked up one of the flowers, holding it close as they floated in the air. They leaned back, closing their eyes and falling asleep with the rose in their hands.

Masterpost // Next

[another-dr-another]

INTERMISSION

A guide to Before the Big Bang

Another Danganronpa Another has no affiliation with LINUJ, and is a stand-alone fan-made work which is unconnected to any other works inspired by LINUJ’s projects.

CONTENT WARNING

Before the Big Bang repeatedly discusses: child abuse, child neglect, child abandonment, child labor, and parental death. Suicide, gaslighting, toxic dynamics, ableism, classism, homophobia, and transphobia are present in the story. Substances (drugs, alcohol), religious abuse, and (attempted) child murder are mentioned, but not depicted. The game begins with a scene depicting Before the Big Bang being “booted up”, and struggles with dissociation, depersonalization, and derealization are portrayed; readers who struggle with unreality are advised to exercise caution

IN-UNIVERSE

Another Danganronpa Another: Before the Big Bang! is the first “installment” in the Gods Will duology, the Sun Side of the two games. A scrapped first draft of Danganronpa Another ~ Another Despair Academy, upon trying to launch the completed game… this is all the computer would run. Contains the same characters, with the same names and talents- but it will quickly become clear this is the most they have in common. Class 79-B was set to start their first year at Hopes Peak Academy, but have now found themselves participating in a game of mutual killing. We follow Maeda Yuki as he tries to navigate gifting his classmates during their free time events, keeping the conversation on track during class trials, and ignoring his constant creeping feeling that there’s something he’s missing. 

OUT-OF-UNIVERSE

Before the Big Bang is an AU of Danganronpa Another started on August 23rd, 2019. Colloquially referred to as “Beta AU” after a Danganronpa Distrust AU I was writing in 2018, Another Danganronpa Another deals with the mirrored reflections of the DRA cast- different personalities and behaviors, but something at the core of the character that rings true to their original writing. The original account was deleted in April of 2020, but quickly remade, and while most original posts were lost to the ether, this was handled… by rewriting what had been deleted at a speed of four posts/day. “Rewrite 23” is the tag used for posts which have been rewritten since that happened, so if one post suddenly seems to be a bit more polished than the posts before/after it, check to see if it’s tagged with that- it’s possible it’s a higher quality because it’s more recent!

MECHANICS

At the end of most posts, you’ll be given {two or more} {options} which you can pick between. If no asks are sent in, one of Maeda’s classmates will take matters into their own hands, and make the choice for Maeda. If multiple asks are sent in, majority rules- in the case of an even split, the ask that was sent first takes precedence. Occasionally, you’ll be given the option to freely roam the school, instead of being given options.

As this is a Tumblr ask blog, and not a coded video game, there’s a person reading your asks! So long as I can see what your intent is, I’ll do my best to follow along within the parameters of the game. This applies to both free roam, and to asks selecting options. Maeda may not go for your exact suggestion, but, for example- if it’s time for Free Time Events, and an ask is sent saying “we should go throw hands with Tsu. or we could give him item 104 ig”, Maeda will go spend his FTE opportunity with Tsurugi, and will give him Item #104. Don’t worry about needing to be formal!

HOW-TO

Following the “Start” link below will allow you to read every post, in chronological order. Visiting the Chapter Chrono page (through the “Exit” link) will allow you to read posts in chronological order, starting at the specific chapter you choose. Every post is tagged with “dra”, which is used to read through every post chronologically. A similar format is used to read chapters chronologically, however, these links aren’t currently fully functional. Eventually, you’ll be able to read specifically daily/deadly lifes in chronological order, however, posts from the first two chapters aren’t tagged properly for this. Re-tagging is a work in progress, but chapters as a whole can still be read individually, and the daily/deadly life specific tags are in place for Chapter 3.

Especially beginning in the third chapter, posts can be lengthy, and the work is extensive- though an official word count is currently unavailable, an example: the third chapter's investigation was 36 posts, and over 95k words. Those with the free time to spend a few hours a day to spend on reading can generally get through beta in ~five days. For those who aren’t looking for that sort of undertaking, the current recommendation (as of August 2024, during the third trial) is to use the “Replay” link below, read up until the final introduction, then utilize the Chapter Chrono page (through the “Exit” link), and either begin reading at the start of the third chapter, or the start of the third deadly life. Visiting the Synopsis Page (through the “Exit” link) will provide you with summaries of what happened on different days of the killing game, to catch you up on what you’re missing- without having to read through everything immediately.

LINKS

Tumblr hates showing the extra pages on this blog.

E-Handbook is a navigational page. Meant to model the E-Handbooks in Danganronpa games, this page contains the following.

“Class 79-B” is a navigational page which contains profiles on each of the students. These pages should contain synopses of any completed free time events, but this is a work in progress. “Items” is a page listing how many Monocoins Maeda currently has, the things he’s won from the Mono-machine, and other things he’s received. “School Rules” is a list of the school rules the students must abide by. “Truth Bullets” is a page only available during the deadly life segment. It has descriptions of any truth bullets Maeda has, and links back to the post he got them in.

Exit is a navigational page, which contains bonus pages that don’t align with the E-handbook.

“Help” contains a list of any notes/explanations which are given during the game. Primarily, this consists of trial mechanics. “Synopsis” is a page which summarizes what’s happened so far in the game, breaking it down on a day by day basis. “Account Info” contains a more detailed explanation of the AU, links to other relevant blogs, and contains some other miscellaneous details. “Chapter Chrono” allows readers to revisit specific chapters, and view their posts in chronological order.

Replay allows readers to read the entirety of Before the Big Bang from the first post.

QUESTIONS

Please send any questions to @another-dra-anew! Asks which are unrelated to the ongoing story, but get sent here, will be answered and kept up for a week, before being reblogged to Anew, and deleted from this account.

[skylarstarlight]

Okay, I'm not often one to make predictions or theories, but this thought has been nagging me for weeks now.

-SPOILERS FOR THE BUNGO STRAY DOGS MANGA-

If we ignore Dazai and Fyodor in the prison for a second and instead look outside, more specifically at Jouno and Tecchou, we will see the desperation of Tecchou to find his partner [boyfriend] again.

He has gone as far as to team up with Kenji and proclaiming he'd "put Jouno above justice" (something he really does not take lightly), so it's clear to see he's not really thinking of anything else at the moment. Man is full-on laserfocussed on getting Jouno back, and will not stop until he does find him or dies trying.

So, we know how the Hunting Dogs' bodies have been enhanced via inhumane surgeries, giving them extra strength and resistance, etc. but their bodies also deteriorate to the point of needing monthly surgeries to keep it in one piece.

This is a side effect that minimizes the betrayal chances and keeps the Hunting Dogs loyal to the government, as they would die if they went against the whims of their superiors and were denied this surgery.

As we also know, Asagiri absolutely loves sprinkling in little details throughout manga chapters only for them to become a big deal later, as a form of foreshadowing.

So my theory (or hypothetical I'm really just spitballing here) is as follows:

What if, in his quest to find Jouno, Tecchou's body starts deteriorating due to how long he has been searching, and he keeps refusing to get help because Jouno comes first?

Jouno will most likely be safe from the effects of the surgery due to his vampiric regeneration, but Tecchou doesn't have that 'privilege'.

It is part of the Hunting Dog code that one must 'fight while injured and to the death' and 'sacrificing one's own bodies and souls for the people', in which Jouno would be 'the people'.

I don't think Tecchou would stray from these rules, not even considering current events, and I don't think the deterioration of his own body could stop him from going after Jouno, even if other people try to keep him from doing so- as we saw with Kenji. He literally told Kenji to kill him when he thought he had failed Jouno, so he'd rather die.

And in the end that could go any of the following ways (or iterations):

1.- Tecchou (or anyone really, but I don't think he'd stop until he saw it himself) finds and secures Jouno before Tecchou's body starts deteriorating too much. Then:

a. Nothing really happens, he just gets his surgery as usual and all is well.

b. He is proclaimed a traitor and denied his surgery

c. The government is in too much disarray to give him treatment at this point in time

2.- Tecchou (this time in the flesh for dramatic effect) finds Jouno when his body has already taken a toll and they meet face to face, in which case Jouno would most likely attack him. As a vampire Hunting Dog against a weakened regular Hunting Dog, he'd definitely overpower Tecchou, who would need allies in order to really win this fight- Either way this could end as any of the following:

a. Tecchou dies tragically at the hand of Jouno or his own body

b. Tecchou gets turned into a vampire by Jouno, in which case the worries about his physical state can be disregarded as the restoration from the vampires probably outclasses the falling apart

c. He wins against Jouno (most likely with ADA help) and secures him

d. The fight ends prematurely and Tecchou now only has an even stronger desire to save Jouno after seeing the state he's in and further disregards his own safety

3.- Tecchou or his allies do not find Jouno at all, before his body starts getting too bad to carry on. He'd still be determined to find Jouno, but physically cannot. This again has multiple possible outcomes:

a. Tecchou dies a (rather unsatisfying imo but tragic nonetheless) death, most likely with his last words being an apology to Jouno, since Asagiri just loves to hurt us in those ways

b. Tecchou somehow gets in contact with Yosano, who keeps him stable until he can be saved

c. Tecchou gets turned into a vampire on purpose (unlikely that he'd agree to that but desperate times call for desperate measures) to keep him from dying, and he'd get reunited with Jouno that way

4.- Jouno somehow dies before Tecchou can get to him

a. Jouno is killed by someone on purpose, in which case Tecchou would change his goal to avenging his partner's murder, health be damned

b. Jouno dies in a crossfire or as an accident, in which case Tecchou would mourn the death and set his sights on Fukuchi, along with the ADA

Anyway, that's my rambling for today. I feel a lot lighter to get that out

Skylar <3

[lavenderpanic]

Deleted Scenes from Chapter 10 of I Am Ash From Your Fire

I took a few scenes out because they didn't fit cohesively, so I'm going to post them here. NOTE: These are part of a bigger fic, this is not a standalone fic and will not make sense if you aren't familiar with the rest of the fic, all warnings from Chapter 10 apply to these excerpts.

“Something’s seriously wrong,” Steve sighs exasperatedly, pausing in his pacing just long enough to look at Sam and Natasha. “Wanda said he just… quit. No explanation. She said she could tell Brock was there, instructing him on what to say.”

“What can we do?” Natasha sighs, hugging the pillow cradled to her chest even tighter. “We can’t call the police, obviously, and even if we could, Bucky doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

“He’s obviously being abused, who gives a shit what he says?”

Sam lets out a belabored groan. “Steve, if he says he wants is, that’s it. He’s already on record talking to doctors and social workers saying he consents to whatever Brock does. If they both agree that they want it, there’s not much we can do.”

“We need to get to Bucky,” Natasha says gently. “He needs to realize, without being forced, that he has to leave.”

Steve scoffs lightly, continuing his feverish pace from one side of his apartment to the other. “Yeah, real easy when he’s locked at home all day, no way to contact him. I mean, I’ve seen the shape he’s in after Brock hurts him, how much worse does it have to get before he realizes? I don’t think it can get any worse.”

“He has to leave his apartment at some point,” Sam reasons. “And Brock’s a cop, there must be times he’s out and Bucky’s alone.”

“There’s cameras,” Natasha shakes her head. “He’d recognize us if he saw us, Sam, probably you too, Steve. But you’re right, maybe Bucky does go somewhere during the day.”

Steve’s pacing slows down as he tries to think of places Bucky might go in his free time. “He told me he’s been going to the gym for the past few weeks. And I doubt Brock does his own errands, I bet he goes to the store or the dry cleaners or someplace like that.”

Natasha sighs again. “That won’t give us enough time, though. Even if we can get, what, five minutes alone with him? Nothing we can say in five minutes is gonna make him leave. We’ve been trying to convince him since we’ve known him.”

“So we have nothing. No way to help him, no– no fucking plan?”

“There isn’t just a set of code words to snap him out of it,” Sam says softly. “If he really doesn’t understand that what Brock’s doing is wrong… arguments that sound logical to us aren’t going to change his mind. Most people who leave go back, multiple times. I think the most important thing is that Bucky knows he can leave, that he has somewhere to go, someone to support him, when he does.”

“I can’t just wait around while he’s getting hurt,” Steve whispers. “I was there, in the hospital, I saw the state he was in. He almost died and he still got mad that I called an ambulance. He was literally on the verge of death and Brock was blaming him for passing out. What happens if he has another emergency and he doesn’t have someone to force him to get help?”

“It’s painful,” Natasha agrees. “I see it a lot, with the people who come to the shelter. I watch them go back and get hurt over and over again. But I promise you, the more forceful you are, the less likely they are to come back at all.”

“I know it’s hard,” Sam sighs. “But last time he needed help, he went right to you. That’s a good sign.”

Steve shouldn’t get excited when his phone buzzes anymore. It’ll never be Bucky. It hasn’t been, for weeks. He wouldn’t dare call, he doesn’t want Bucky getting in trouble on his account, but he nearly has about a hundred times. He was satiated, slightly, when Sam told him he saw Bucky at the store. He’s alive, at least, or was last week. It worried him to hear Sam’s recollection of the state he was in– exhausted, bruised up, about what he expected– but any confirmation that he’s alive is enough for Steve.

Even so, even though he knows he shouldn’t still hold onto that hope, he feels his heart pick up when his phone buzzes. The hope deflates when, of course, it isn’t Bucky, but instead an Instagram notification. He clicks on it, really just out of curiosity. He doesn’t do much on Instagram but post his drawings, and he rarely has new people follow him. As soon as he opens the app, a message pops up.

b3cca_barn3s: hey ur buckys friend, right?

rogers070420: Yeah it’s Steve! Is everything alright?

b3cca_barn3s: i was actually kinda hoping u would know. he hasn’t answered anyones calls or texts in forever. hes never ignored me like this. is he ok? :(

rogers070420: I honestly haven’t heard from him either, I’m really sorry. I wish I could help. My friend Sam saw him a couple days ago at the store, but he hasn’t called or anything.

b3cca_barn3s: oh :( ty anyway. plz lmk if he texts u

rogers070420: I will! Let me know if there’s anything else I can help with

[imtooscaredforthis]

Entrapment

Chapter sixteen: First Response

Mentions of: Murder, Stabbing, Blood, Gore, Death, Paranoia, Blackmail, Shock, & Ghostface being one sick fucker

A/N: Seems like we’ve finally reached our turning point….

Tags: @mama-miya @dead-bxxxtch-walking @vandeaad @the-fandoms-georgie @moonshineinasippycup @froegis

With a deep sigh, you grabbed your uniform, getting changed. You’re exhausted. You’ve barely slept ever since that phone call, too paranoid and afraid. When you do sleep, you get nightmares.

You did everything you could about it, even going to the police. They just told you it was probably a prank call or a copycat, since it’s not in Ghostface’s M.O to call his victims. They said to give you a call if anyone showed up, but they couldn’t do anything about it unless they saw someone.

So now, you’re on your own. You know that’s not completely true, that you have Jesse, Jed and Rachel. But could you really tell them what’s going on? The cops already think you’re crazy, and you don’t want your friends joining them.

Hopefully work will keep you distracted. Jesse normally helps a lot, after all.

When you arrived at the restaurant, all the lights were already off, the open sign flipped to closed. But you and Jesse are working the closing shift…Weird. Maybe Lucia wants to close early?

It doesn’t happen often, maybe once or twice, when Lucia has a family emergency, she’s told you to close early. Maybe it was one of those rare occasions.

“Hello?” You called when you entered. There was no response. The restaurant was completely empty, no one at the tables or anything.

It was barely cleaned. Seeming like whoever cleaned it stopped suddenly, a few chairs stacked on the tables, and a broom resting against the wall. But that’s it. There’s signs of anyone there.

You walked over to the kitchen, pushing through the doors, before you stopped. You stopped and you stood, frozen in place at the sight in front of you.

The first thing you saw was the blood, the smell of copper hanging heavily in the air, making you nauseous. So much blood, it was everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, on the table, everywhere.

Then, you saw Lucia. She was lying on the ground, unmoving, her eyes shut and her mouth parted ever so slightly. She had multiple stab wounds in her chest and stomach, her clothes drenched with blood, some seeping from her mouth.

Before you could even process the sight, you heard the soft sound of someone calling your name, their voice barely above a whisper.

It was Jesse, and a dark hooded figure loomed above him, holding his head back, slitting his throat. You watched as he choked on his blood, his once bright blue eyes grew dull and lifeless.

The hooded figure raised it’s head to look at you, and that’s when you saw it. The mask. The Ghostface Mask. White with blood splatters on it, the black eye holes and mouth curved in an endless scream.

Shock coursed through you, as you struggled to believe the reality before you. Your friends, your work family, they were all dead. Ghostface killed them.

He pulled the knife from Jesse’s neck, wiping the blood off with his hand. Then he started walking toward you, causing your fight or flight to kick in.

You grabbed a knife from the cutting block, holding it and preparing yourself. You could feel your body trembling with fear and adrenaline. “Stay the fuck back, you sick, psychotic bastard.”

You hissed poisonously, trying to act confident even though you could hear your voice shaking.

“I wouldn’t be too worried about me if I were you, I’d rather be more focused on the boy.” He gestured to the side of the table.

Dropping the knife, you ran over, finding Nate lying on the ground, a stab wound in his side and his leg. He was bleeding heavily, but he wasn’t dead. His eyes fluttered, and he groaned in pain, just barely conscious.

You were too focused on Nate to even notice Ghostface crouched down beside you, watching as you cared for the boy. “Now, here’s what you’re going to do.”

He said, startling you and making you grab Nate and crawl away, reaching for the knife. He pulled it away from you, tossing it to the other side of the kitchen.

“Listen. In five minutes, you’re going to call the police and tell them what happened. They’ll bring ambulances and save your little friend here, but it’s the choices you make in the future that’ll keep him alive, understand? Whenever I call, you answer. You don’t tell the police or anyone else about us unless I say so. You break any of my rules, and I’ll kill him. I know where he lives, and where he goes to school. I can find both you and him wherever you go, so don’t you dare think of running. Got it?”

You nodded, holding Nate close to you, and moving your hands over his wounds, doing what you could to slow down the bleeding. “Repeat it.”

“I don’t tell anyone about us, and when you call, I answer.” He reached over, patting your cheek, treating you like some sort of dog. “Good girl. I’ll be in touch, okay? See you soon, sweetheart.”

He tapped your nose with a gloved finger, which reeked of blood and death. He pulled away, walking off, and shutting the back door behind him.

You spent a few minutes making sure he was really gone, before running over to the phone and dialing 911.

–

There you sat, in front of the restaurant, a blanket resting on your shoulders. Bright red and blue lights flashed around you, and you watched as they carried Nate into the ambulance, and took the two others in a body bag.

“Can I go with him?” You asked the two detectives who stood in front of you. “Sure, we just have a few more questions for you, first.”

“I told you all I know. He killed both of them and left without saying another word. Can I please just go now?” You begged.

“What about that person that you claimed was stalking you and called you? Didn’t you think that was him?” The other detective interjected.

You sighed. “No, that wasn’t him. It was just a prank by my next door neighbor. I’m sorry I didn’t call back to say anything, I was just so embarrassed and I didn’t want to get him in trouble.”

The two men traded glances, deciding to belive your lie. “Well was there anything else you remembered about him? Any certain mannerisms you caught on to? Something about his appearance, a smell, or look, anything?”

“I already told you, it was dark and it all happened so fast. I could barely see him, and the only thing I could smell was..the blood.” You admitted.

“Alright, thank you for your time and help, Ms.______. We’re sorry this happened to you. But if you see anything, just give us a call, okay?” The men handed you their card, before finally leaving you be.

You spent an hour there, half of it being checked out by the EMTs, and the other being questioned by detectives. All you want now is to make sure Nate’s okay and to go home, lock yourself in your room and sleep it all off.

You just want to forget this whole night ever happened.

[haleigh-sloth]

What are your thoughts on Gran Torino calling Tomura a “thing” and saying that his death will be his salvation, so Deku shouldn’t try that hard to save him? I’m worried that the story is going to end up agreeing with him in the end.

I've talked a lot about that line. Of course I can't find the most recent post I did where I talked about that line, love tumblr.

My bottom line is: It won't happen.

There are only a handful of characters who I have doubt for in my mind in terms of their arcs being satisfying to the max potential, and Tomura, Touya, and Toga are not on that list.

Gran Torino said that in chapter 309/310 (can't remember exactly which one and I don't feel like checking), and he has not been remembered/acknowledged by the protag or the narrative as a whole since.

I might be wrong and he may have shown up once?? But I'd even go so far as to say I think he's literally had 0 panel time since then, and we're on chapter 385.

Meanwhile in comparison you have Izuku remembering Tomura's pain in that one moment where he realized it was there, and remembering what he said he would do in chapter 305 MULTIPLE times, over the course of 80 chapters later. Now, which one has more narrative importance?

The thing is, the question of "can he be saved" is already there. Tomura's done a lot of damage, left a lot of death, misery, and mourning in his wake. The only positive force he's had in the manga is bringing the League together so none of them died alone, and which has resulted in half of them meeting their about-to-be-heroes. It's really not HARD to wonder "CAN HE BE SAVED??" The question is already there. Which, to me, explained why Gran Torino has been so ignored since he said that.

I know a lot of people try to play the argument of "oh the author did this good writing thing on accident", and no. He didn't. Everything in BNHA is intentional, that is a lesson I've learned. A frustrating, painful, but much appreciated lesson lol. Gran Torino saying it in the first place was intentional. Yes you are supposed to wonder if Izuku might think he has to let Tomura disappear or die. There's gotta be some level of doubt, even if it's not very convincing (and to me it's not lol). And then, Gran Torino being ignored for 80 chapters after is also intentional.

Izuku thinking about Tomura multiple times, asking if he's still there in his own body, knocking him out of his "tomb"--which Izuku referred to it as and emphasized the fact that it was a tomb--and falling to the ground with him to face him in the security of not having everyone else who wants to kill him around, is intentional.

The art is intentional. Look at the most recent panels with the two of them, and look at Izuku's general attitude toward Tomura in comparison to what it was during the PLF war arc. It's a complete 180, it's entirely different and way more full of determination than it is rage and anger. That wasn't on accident.

Anything that involves Tomura dying results in the main protagonist's arc ending in complete failure. The story has not once validated the "kill to save" take, nor has it once validated Gran Torino on anything, ever.

I use this same argument when I talk about Touya. Ochacko saving Toga--which lots of people seem to be more accepting of now, finally--will not happen without Shouto saving Touya and Izuku saving Tomura. None of those three will succeed while one of them fails on the side and mourns their failure to save someone who was crying---which those three villains are all crying. It just won't happen.

Obviously I'm not Horikoshi. But this is seriously one of the things where I am 0% concerned about where the story is headed. Tomura is the best written character in the manga, he's been rewritten time and time again, redrafted time and time again. My confidence that his arc won't be trashed at the end is really high. I am not worried.

[miammey]

First off THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME *taps mic* SPOILER WARNING FOR THE MANGA

---------

If we ignore Dazai and Fyodor in the prison for a second and instead look outside, more specifically at Jouno and Tecchou, we will see the desperation of Tecchou to find his partner [boyfriend] again.

He has gone as far as to team up with Kenji and proclaiming he'd "put Jouno above justice" (something he really does not take lightly), so it's clear to see he's not really thinking of anything else at the moment. Man is full-on laserfocussed on getting Jouno back, and will not stop until he does find him or dies trying.

So, we know how the Hunting Dogs' bodies have been enhanced via inhumane surgeries, giving them extra strength and resistance, etc. but their bodies also deteriorate to the point of needing monthly surgeries to keep it in one piece.

This is a side effect that minimizes the betrayal chances and keeps the Hunting Dogs loyal to the government, as they would die if they went against the whims of their superiors and were denied this surgery.

As we also know, Asagiri absolutely loves sprinkling in little details throughout manga chapters only for them to become a big deal later, as a form of foreshadowing.

So my theory (or hypothetical I'm really just spitballing here) is as follows:

What if, in his quest to find Jouno, Tecchou's body starts deteriorating due to how long he has been searching, and he keeps refusing to get help because Jouno comes first?

Jouno will most likely be safe from the effects of the surgery due to his vampiric regeneration, but Tecchou doesn't have that 'privilege'.

It is part of the Hunting Dog code that one must 'fight while injured and to the death' and 'sacrificing one's own bodies and souls for the people', in which Jouno would be 'the people'.

I don't think Tecchou would stray from these rules, not even considering current events, and I don't think the deterioration of his own body could stop him from going after Jouno, even if other people try to keep him from doing so- as we saw with Kenji. He literally told Kenji to kill him when he thought he had failed Jouno and the other Hunting Dogs, so he'd rather die.

And in the end that could go any of the following ways (or iterations):

1.- Tecchou (or anyone really, but I don't think he'd stop until he saw it himself) finds and secures Jouno before Tecchou's body starts deteriorating too much. Then:

a. Nothing really happens, he just gets his surgery as usual and all is well.

b. He is proclaimed a traitor and denied his surgery

c. The government is in too much disarray to give him treatment at this point in time

2.- Tecchou (this time in the flesh for dramatic effect) finds Jouno when his body has already taken a toll and they meet face to face, in which case Jouno would most likely attack him. As a vampire Hunting Dog against a weakened regular Hunting Dog, he'd definitely overpower Tecchou, who would need allies in order to really win this fight- Either way this could end as any of the following:

a. Tecchou dies tragically at the hand of Jouno or his own body

b. Tecchou gets turned into a vampire by Jouno, in which case the worries about his physical state can be disregarded as the restoration from the vampires probably outclasses the falling apart

c. He wins against Jouno (most likely with ADA help) and secures him

d. The fight ends prematurely and Tecchou now only has an even stronger desire to save Jouno after seeing the state he's in and further disregards his own safety

3.- Tecchou or his allies do not find Jouno at all, before his body starts getting too bad to carry on. He'd still be determined to find Jouno, but physically cannot. This again has multiple possible outcomes:

a. Tecchou dies a (rather unsatisfying imo but tragic nonetheless) death, most likely with his last words being an apology to Jouno, since Asagiri just loves to hurt us in those ways

b. Tecchou somehow gets in contact with Yosano, who keeps him stable until he can be saved

c. Tecchou gets turned into a vampire on purpose (unlikely that he'd agree to that but desperate times call for desperate measures) to keep him from dying, and he'd get reunited with Jouno that way

4.- Jouno somehow dies before Tecchou can get to him

a. Jouno is killed by someone on purpose, in which case Tecchou would change his goal to avenging his partner's murder, health be damned

b. Jouno dies in a crossfire or as an accident, in which case Tecchou would mourn the death and set his sights on Fukuchi, along with the ADA

---------

Anyway this is all just me spiraling after making up fanfic plots I'll never write, so enjoy!

Skylar

OOOOHHH YES YES YES!!! I love the idea of him disregarding himself so much so that he misses such an important thing like his maintenance

And it could make sense considering the fact that we have no idea how long it’s been since they last got their maintenance

Thank you so much for sharing!!!

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 6: taiyaki

contents: gojo satoru x reader, too many beds trope, gojo being a little shit, mentions of intense grief and death, fluff, conflicting internal thoughts

summary: while on your first joint mission together, a new level of understanding is reached when you open up to gojo about your past as he tries to get closer to you in more ways than one.

wc: 4.5k

"..I thought it would help. .. does it? because if–  like if you’re not comfortable I can sto–” “no.. it’s.. it’s nice.” voice firm, you close your eyes, body fully relaxing at his touch to gojo’s silent delight. “… hey.” he mutters softly, speaking like you were going to run if he spoke too loudly. concern lacing his gentle actions. you hated it. you didn’t need his pity or his worry, you didn’t need his help or sweet touches. but gojo always fought ruthlessly.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

“hey – oompfh – after this let’s go -“ gojo punches the curse on its side, abdomen lurching forward as you hit it with a blast of light, “ah shit– to get some food –“

“now gojo, really?” you grunt, cringing at the disintegrating body of the large spider curse that was just exorcised.

“m’starving, babe!!” he whines, bright blue scanning the abandoned warehouse you were in, spotting three more incoming curses.

“how are you always hungry?” you mumble, running towards the curses, grinning as you feel your curse energy surging, multiple blasts of light hitting a particularly creepy millipede curse.

“m’a growing boy that needs to eat!” a rustle brings your attention back to gojo as he hits a rather ugly beetle curse to the left of you easily taking it out. huffing, hand resting on his hip, “… and I know you’ll be hungry too, babe. you always fucking ravage the fridge like an animal when you get back- ” gojo adds head tilted to the side.

“gojo -“ you hiss, concentrating on the mosquito curse behind him, trying to ignore his constant chatter. “…weren’t you the one telling me to focus?!” you roll your eyes as you focus your energy to blast the curse behind him, considering if you should have aimed at gojo himself.

“pff, as if i’d let anything happen to you while I’m here.” he scoffs, pushing up his dark glasses, pale face filled with mild offence.

“cmon, just say yes! you can even pick and - and I’ll pay!” he says lip jutted out, pout on full display, easily kicking an ant curse, muttering a soft "red", finishing it off nonchalantly.

you start dusting your cold hands off on your coat as the veil disappears above you, sighing at another job done. you and gojo were in sapporo on your first assigned mission together. you hated to admit it but gojo was right, you did work well together – that is if you didn’t have the need to strangle him every couple of hours. his sheer power combined with your meticulously controlled nature complimented each other.

but currently, you just wanted to warm up. the crisp twilight air was sharp and unwelcoming, it was colder than usual for this time of year. you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers, limbs feeling far too stiff after all of that physical activity.

head turning to you, observant bright blues eyes flicker to your shivering frame, “eh? you cold?”

before you could answer, gojo walks over to you as you eye him suspiciously, taking a hesitant step back when he draws too close. he grabs your stiff hands in his and rubs them, attempting to generate some warmth. was he always like this?

staring at him in surprise, you wondered where this new version of gojo was coming from. recently you’ve noticed that things between gojo and you had become somewhat strange. perhaps it how he would walk closer to you as you headed to dinner after training with geto and ieri or how he was even more annoying recently. you’ve launched so many random items at him just in the past week that ieri offered to carry rocks in her pockets for you. you weren’t sure if she was joking, but you thanked her for her thoughtfulness. you made a mental note to discuss it with geto after sparring. geto needed to gain better control over his dog.

your eyes focus on his unusually thoughtful expression as he brings up your hands still engulfed in his, closer to his plump lips blowing on them.

your heartbeat quickens, warmth spreads across your hands, somehow making its way onto your cheeks. his hands were soft and gentle holding yours, large palms caressing your smaller ones, suspending your worries. it was hard to believe that they were the same hands that absolutely annihilated 4 third grade curses just a few minutes ago. it felt… nice. you allow him to keep you there.

gojo brings your hands down, still rubbing them in his, grinning at the relief evident on your face. inching teasing his face closer to yours, “how about a “thank you so much satoru, you saved my ass from frostbite and you’re soooooo cute” from the ice queen?”

ew, there’s the gojo you know. how egotistical is he?

you exhale creating clouds in the cold air as you forcibly pulling your hands away from his. instead you place your still freezing hands on his warm neck causing gojo to screech in surprise, lanky body jolting away from your cackling. whining your name he pouts, “I was actually so nice to you just now!”

“you'll get over it,” you chuckle you walk past a sulking gojo, pausing to look back at him with a raised eyebrow, “thought you wanted food?”

gojo's eyes immediately brighten as he walks to you with a pep in his step – you chuckle at how quickly his mood changes. gojo hums as he easily falls into place by your side. a small smile finds a way on his rosy face as you move closer to him attempting to steal some of his warmth as you pull your coat tighter on your body.

“how are you not cold right, now?” you ask shivering, taking into account his thin jacket.

he shrugs, “I dunno, I’m perfect I guess.” You shove him away, his laughter echoing in the foyer of the darkening warehouse.

your footsteps shuffle amongst the fallen leaves, as you make your way into the village. you feel a creeping strange new comfort in gojo’s company. he always seemed to find something to talk about.

“… and even after all of that, shoko still sided with suguru! can you believe that?! my closest friends – baby and boo – conspiring against me, and I didn’t even do anything – “

“oh my god gojo, you’re the one who forgot to put up the veil – “

“a minor detail, babe!” gojo says waving his hand back and forth to shoo away your reasoning.

stopping in your tracks you stare at the bright lights ahead of you, steam coming in waves coaxing you out of the darkness. Noticing your sudden stillness, gojo’s attention goes towards the small, charming stand, “oooooooh! taiyaki! d’ya want to go get some?” he asks as you, studying your expression as you nod enthusiastically eager to warm up. gojo practically bounces up and down at your approval and runs to the stand with renewed energy.

you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm through your shivers. the small stall had fairy lights twinkling in multiple colours and a handwritten menu, evidently it was family owned. a bundled up cute old lady stood at the front, pouring batter into the fish shaped molds as an equally bundled up little girl beside her watched curiously.

“hi, uh, can we get 4 of the red bean ones? and .. hmm.. 3 - no let’s do 4 custard ones..” gojo lists off immediately, hypnotized by the enticing smell of sugar and batter.

you smack his side, a hushed whisper “gojo, how many are you going to eat?”

“i’ve been starving since this afternoon!! I’m paying anyway,” leaning in closer to you as he huffs dramatically.

man, even the strongest is no match for hunger.

“and one vegetable one, please.” you add, gazing up at  the cute little old lady as she chuckles at your banter, crinkled eyes of wisdom shining in the dark.

gojo scoffs, staring at you incredulously, “really? a vegetable one? I didn’t know you had such bad taste, babe.”

“well duh, I hang out with you of course I have fucking shitty –“

gojo bumps your shoulder, jerking his head at two large brown eyes watching you at you.

“… uhhh I mean – bad taste.” turning your attention to the little girl behind the counter.

the little girl shyly looks up at you, gingerly placing the excessive amount of taiyakis each in paper sleeves into a larger plastic bag. you look down at her, eyes softening,

you offer her a little wave with a gentle smile. big brown eyes darting to yours, as the old lady collects payment from a chatty gojo, blue eyes watching your interaction with the little girl with interest.

“I like your hairclip,” you softly whisper to her, gesturing to the hello kitty hair clips perched on one of her pigtails, she clutches the skirt of the older woman. she looked so much like her, she was around the same age when -

you nudge the intruding thoughts out of your head, eyes clouding over with carefully practiced control, determined to stay in the present. noticing the shift in your demeanor, gojo scoots closer to you splaying a large hand on your shoulder, anchoring himself as he leans down to offer a warm smile at curious brown eyes. the little girl darting behind the older woman bashfully.

“akari! say hello to our nice customers!” the older woman scolds with an encouraging smile, the little girl gives you a fragile little wave in response. you coo internally, waving back brightly soft laughter dancing cutting through the cold air. the old woman hands gojo the plastic bag filled with taiyaki. you bow to the old woman and direct one last small smile to akari who gojo also playfully sticks his tongue out at in farewell. she giggles at his antics and waves back.

not wasting time, gojo hands you your vegetable taiyaki wrapped in a napkin while he holds his custard taiyaki in his mouth. you say your thanks as you watch him regain his hold of his beloved snack, taking a bite before exhaling rapidly to compensate for the hot pastry, the steam escaping from his mouth and the top of the fish shaped waffle as he moans in delight.

you palm your temple in embarrassment, as you hiss for him to be quiet.

eughhhh he’s so gross.

you watch in impressive disgust as he easily pops the rest of the pastry in his mouth despite the heat. “jesus, gojo slow down – it’s not going to run away from you” you knock, your shoulder into his, “seriously, you might choke,” against his muffled “mmppff! m’fine!” he shoots you an exasperated look.

with the warmth of the taiyaki unfreezing your fingers, you blow on the pastry before taking a bite. the crispness of the waffle contrasts softer interior; the egginess of the batter complimenting the sautéed cabbage and carrots inside.

“s’good?” gojo asks turning to you, mouth half full, halfway through his third taiyaki.

“mhm,” you nod happily, swallowing your taiyaki. “here, try some.” you move the pastry in front of his face, inviting him to take a bite.

gojo stares at you, your flushed cheeks from the cold, quiet smile on your face, loose hair billowing gently intertwined with the familiar lavender and vanilla scent of your shampoo, framing your sweet face. you looked so pretty this quickly fading light.

“c’mon your body will thank you for the veggies.” you tease him, mistaking his silence for hesitance.

regaining his senses, “oh? so you care about my body, eh? didn’t know you snuck a peak –“ he easily recovers, cheeky smile on his face, barely containing the amused scoff as you scrunch up your nose in disgust. gojo moves closer to you, easily taking half of your taiyaki in one bite.

eyes widening, “gojooo!” you whine, “that was such a big bite,” you pout at him.

gojo’s eyes sparkle, a grin growing on his face. over the past few days he was growing more aware that you were less guarded with him. you shoulders were relieved of their usual tenseness, a new lightness caressing your frame, your eyes shone brightly when you spoke, unafraid of taking up space.

looking away to hide his rising blush, as he thoughtfully chews the vegetable taiyaki. it lacked the usual sweetness he often sought out in his snacks, but it had a welcoming savouriness that settles well in his stomach, satiating something that he didn’t know he had a craving for.

“aw babe, don’t worry! You can have some of the other ones,” he mumbles. he didn’t know when it happened but he strangely found that you could almost get away with anything with him. you can have whatever you want. he wanted you to be greedy with him.

“so?” you poke his shoulder, immediately getting his attention. “ whatcha think? good, right?” you ask before popping the rest of the vegetable taiyaki in your mouth easily.

“s’ better than I remember..” he says with a finger to his chin. “– but the red bean one is still the best.”

your pout deepens. “uh huh. I see what you have for breakfast with that shitty excuse for what you call coffee.”

“hey! there’s nothing wrong with egg whites for breakfast, babe. ”

“just because that frosting has egg whites in it – “ you laugh. your reach across him to fish out another taiyaki out of the bag he was holding, taking out a red bean one.

he watches you take a bite and laughs in your face when he watches your surprised expression. it didn’t take long to read you nowadays –  from that look he knew that he was right – the red bean taiyaki was delicious. 

you make your way back to the hotel, intending to get an early night before having to leave for tokyo in the early morning. you were glad that this mission was straightforward. if you were honest - it was nice having the company, but you were glad to have your own room. even if you worked well with gojo, having your own space without complaints of being bored every 15 minutes was necessary.

hmm, maybe you’ll take a hot bath and read that mystery novel that ieri lent you.

you glance at your phone tossed carelessly on your bed, silver phone charm glittering in the dim lights of your hotel room. staring at the star of the charm, you grab your phone to check your messages.

gojo: lol look at this cat [image] (12:24pm) we meeting at the lobby (๑*ᗜ*) ? (2:44pm)

your eyes dart to the top of the screen as a new message pops up:

gojo: still hungry, gna get dins what do you want b? (6:44pm)

you roll your eyes, the black hole is never satiated... but hmm food might be good actually.

you: fried rice pls (6:46pm)

gojo: yes maam b there in 15 ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ (6:47pm)

you settle your bed, undoing the comforter to tuck your tired body into, moaning as you sink into the mattress. wishing that you packed a sweater, you were still chilly.

A knock at the door signal’s gojo’s arrival, getting up to open the door, your socked feet padding on the floor.

“hi babe,” he says as he budges his way into your room, making a b-line to small coffee table in the middle. he quickly sits on the floor and takes out multiple plastic containers of convenience store food. your eyebrows quirk to your surprise.

“sure, make yourself at home…” you mumble closing the door behind him.

he shoots you the best wounded puppy look he could manage. “i got you food! the least you could do is let me eat with you, grumps.” his cheeks and nose are pink from the cold, he runs his large hands through his windswept hair. he takes off his light blue hoodie, carelessly tossing it behind him on the floor, stretching his long body with a groan before opening the steaming containers of food.

“m'getting tired, gojo. leave after you eat.” you huff, sitting at the small table, reaching for your container of fried rice that gojo had opened for you.

his frown deepens.  “y’know im gonna put that in the report! babe was in a real bad mood the entire time and raised their voice at the strongest and best looking sorcerer satoru gojo, making him cry.” he lists off, handing you a pair of chopsticks and a plastic spoon.

you snort, accepting the utensils thankfully. “yeah, fucking right gojo, the craziest thing you’ve said is that you’d even do the report. I know you’re going to leave it to me to do.” you say with a huff.

“sa – tor– ruuuu! how come you don’t call me by my first name!” he whines.

you roll your eyes. the minute you stepped into jujutsu tech, you heard the whispers of satoru gojo: arrogant, cocky, the sorcerer who wielded unimaginable power, the future of jujutsu society – the honoured one. you knew he always won, so who were you to challenge him? to everyone else he was the one – the chosen one –  but to you he was anyone else.  to you he had to remain gojo, never satoru. but you couldn’t help feel comfort in his presence, you couldn’t push down the genuine laughs he coaxed out of you. the rational part of your brain warned you that this was dangerous territory, and your obedient mind knew to keep away from satoru gojo.

“when you stop calling me babe.” you easily deadpan, spooning some of rice into your mouth. humming in content at the warmth. the fluffy rice, contrasting the slight crunch of the aromatic green onions, carrots and peas.

“but that’s who you are. you’re babe,” he says between a mouthful of noodles.

“yeah okay, gojo.” you say acidly, spoon chasing the last grains of rice at the bottom of the container. “you’re the worst, you know that?”

he stares at you eyebrows furrowed, head cocked to the side.

your eyes narrow at his scrutiny, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“you’re so confusing, babe,” he easily answers, scrapping the bottom of the container of the container gratingly, the last of the long slightly greasy noodles gathering on his chopsticks.

“what are you talking about?”

“with that little girl you were like a different person! so sweet and shy, why do I get the grumpy ice princess?”

a hollow feeling returns in your chest. ignoring his comment as you scoff, moving to stretch out on the hotel room floor. you turn to your side facing away from him. you hear gojo hum as he moves to devour a container of slightly soggy karaage.

.“... she just reminded me of my sister.” you say quietly.

gojo’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know you have a sister.”

“yeah. she’s dead.”

“curse?” gojo asks almost nonchalantly, swallowing his mouthful and placing his chopsticks on the table.

“mhm.” you hum, “when I was 8, a special grade took out half of my village.” you mumble, words escaping your mouth before you could hold them in any longer. “mom and dad died trying to protect us, told us to always stick together and run as far as we could. so we ran into the forest, but it found us and I just stood there when.. I couldn’t, I tried..” your voice breaks, words dying pathetically on your tongue. you close your eyes, willing yourself to swallow the pain for just a little longer. breathe. you had to breathe. they were gone already, what’s the point in crying over it? especially in front of him.

wordlessly, gojo gets up and cautiously lays down behind you, ensuring to keep a comfortable distance from you. careful of your emotional state, he moves slowly,worried that you would hide from him if he acted too quickly.  you feel his large hand, moving slowly back and forth on your back, your muscles confusedly stiffening at the contact. your body unconsciously lean into his touch before your fractured mind could comprehend it’s betrayal.

gojo was no stranger to touch - he was a tactile person with everyone and was notorious for being unable to grasp the concept of personal space. he was often seen clingily hanging off geto’s shoulders or smothering an infuriated ieri trying unsuccessfully to get a piggyback ride. you were no exception, irritatingly used to him poking your cheek in greeting or even worse patting your head, but this… this was different. there was a gentleness and a hesitance to his touch that you would never associated with gojo. there was something strangely sweet in his warmth that invited you to come closer. you resented how easily his touch calmed the beating of your unsteady heart.

what was he playing at?

your eyebrows scrunch, complimenting your trembling lips, you didn’t have time for his silly games.

“what are you doing, gojo?” you whisper, heart beat feeling unsteady, beating to an unfamiliar rhythm.

“... that’s uh… what my nanny used to do this to me when I was… upset.”

your blink in surprise. gojo was always so confident and sure, his eyes always bright and mischievous, mouth moulded in a consistent grin ready to inflict trouble. it was hard to imagine gojo upset. did his lip quiver before he cried? did his nose go red? did he bottle all his emotions up until he exploded? there was so much you've heard about him, but there wasn't a lot that you knew about him. 

“…my uh, my parents weren’t around, so the servants would care for me. I… I thought it would help. .. does it? because if–  like if you’re not comfortable I can sto–”

“no.. it’s.. it’s nice.” Voice firm, you close your eyes, body fully relaxing at his touch to gojo’s silent delight.

“… hey.” he mutters softly, speaking like you were going to run if he spoke too loudly. concern lacing his gentle actions.

you hated it. you didn’t need his pity or his worry, you didn’t need his help or sweet touches. but gojo always fought ruthlessly. you hated how every interaction with gojo was a losing game.

“..that wasn’t you fault, y’know?”

“how would you know?” tone sharp and defensive. this conversation didn’t need to happen, you hoped that gojo would be perceptive for once in his life and drop the subject. you just wanted it to be over. this was too much for you, too close.

“you barely know me.”

what did gojo know? nothing. he knew nothing about how in the dead of night you could still hear your sister’s cries begging you for help, or how on your birthday when you’d blow out the candles of the cake you bought for yourself that you wished that you could exchange places with her. he never knew how you’ve never gone back to your hometown. he didn’t need to know how resentful you were when your cursed technique started to develop, arriving too late to help those who you loved the most.

“well.. what I do know about you is that you care a lot more than you let on. you’re stupidly stubborn, so you would’ve tried absolutely everything in your power to save her.”

you fidgeting with your hands, his heavy words falling into your hands, catching them with difficulty. turning your head, you snuck a glance at him, looking at the sun.

the air was thick with an unspoken intimacy. in this moment, you understood the true power that gojo possessed. just a few hours ago he easily exorcised 4 curses but in the dimly flickering lights of your cold hotel room he showed that he was truly merciless. the weight of his words crushing you easily.

but the warmth of his hands against you back, interrupt your scrambling thoughts, stirring an unfamiliar nostalgic comfort in you. did your mother used to do this to you too? you don’t remember… it’s been a long time since you’ve had someone. you were so tired of keeping everything inside, of forcing your grief down into deepest part of your soul just to create a buoy to keep you afloat. it was in loneliness that you found true rest, a cruel but necessary sanctuary. but with gojo’s growing presence in your life, you were starting to grow restless, it unnerved you. 

“i want to, though – know you…” his hands still at the small of your back, words uncovering the unmarked graves in your heart that you buried long ago. “…if you let me.”

your eyes gently open, you shakily inhale. you move to stare up at the ceiling, trying to find your voice.

“she had the same big brown eyes – the, the girl at the taiyaki stand.” you whisper so soft gojo would’ve missed it if he wasn’t paying close attention. “it was.. it was nice to see again.. I almost forgot what they looked like.” voice trembling, controlling slipping through you fingers.

gojo hums, his hand moving reassuringly on your back, attempting to ground you.

“sometimes I think.. i’m getting better and it gets easier. and then I feel guilty that I feel better… forgetting her,” you admit.

“mhm. well, you’re not forgetting her. your life is growing around the memory, so it just seems smaller.”

you nod, not wanting to trust your voice. meeting his eyes, you wondered if he had lost someone too. he must have. being a sorcerer it was inevitable. feeling his touch, all of your words die on your tongue into a comfortable silence.

after some time, he laughs unexpectedly. a bright playful sound, laced with bitterness at the edges, “isn’t love fucking stupid, babe?”

you snort, lips turning upward ever so slightly. “the worst.” you agree, watery eyes threatening to spill, your cold hands rubbing your eyes.  heart lurching at your fleetingly weak smile, gojo grins brightly deciding that if you didn’t have it in you to put on a brave face that he was strong enough to smile for the both of you.

hand caressing  your back, his eyebrow quirks as you slowly turn your head to look back at him. your mischievous eyes catch his, “… hmm, I bet you were the worst baby. your servants must have hated you.” his hand drops from your back incredulously.

“what?! nuh uh! I was an absolute angel-“

you inch back to meet his pouting face with a teasing smirk, “you’re so fucking chatty now, imagine you as a kid,” laughter escaping from you, “I bet you cried so much. you were so annoying, an absolute monster. heheh probably cried so hard your hair went white.”

“baaabeeee!!! stopppp, it’s natural. it’s one of my best features!!” he pouts.

but looking at you, gojo thought your best feature was your smile – especially when he was the cause. it was a shame that he didn’t see it often. your eyes would crinkle at the corners, a chaotic delight that he recognized within himself. being this close to you, he wanted to reach out and trace your smile with his fingertips, to touch the smoothness of your cheeks, to whisper in your ears that everything would be okay because he would make it so. he wanted to know what it was like to touch light, to feel beauty. In the comfortable silence that grew, he wondered when the hotel room got so warm.

perhaps it was the richness of the fried rice settling in your stomach or the tiredness in your muscles or maybe.. just maybe, it was due to his reassuring presence that you find comfortably drowsy. you unexpectedly find that sleep comes easy to you, his slow and even breathing reminding you that he was there. you sigh contently, minusculely shuffling closer to him on the floor. heads almost touching, you warmly slip into a dreamless sleep.

a/n: ahhhh! this was a big step for the reader! what did you think of the chapter? -- special thank you to @yung-notorious for providing feedback and suggestions for this chapter, you're the best!! check out her fic, Never Lose Me! -- head image credit: Shokugeki No Soma  dividers from: @/adornedwithlight