#i wish i didn't have to read the news anymore

[somerandompun]

I was going to put this in the tags but realized I have a lot to say on this.

Anywho, to begin, I am a modern-day Homestuck fan and My Little Pony FIM fan (yes, yes, I hear you, to be cringe is to be free or whatever) but my heaviest special interests rn are Bottoms, Ginger Snaps, and Wednesday, all of which either barely have fandoms due to low popularity at release (Ginger Snaps) or due to the fandom dying off (Wednesday, Bottoms).

I fuel my own fandom, essentially, writing pages upon pages of self-serving fanfic, making headcanons, etc, but I miss the type of fandoms I used to be in. Carmilla was popular when I was in middle school (lol, I'm 22 shush), and that was an insane time to be in that fandom space as it was so new, so full of life. There are still people who write for Carmilla today, though the fandom was never really "at large" due to the fact Carmilla was not very mainstream (YouTube series L).

Similarly, I do not see much of the Orphan Black or Orange Is the New Black fandoms today, both of which I also was a part of during their primes. Sure, people still write for them, but they similarly lack people who held on.

And then there's Bottoms and Wednesday, two fandoms I thought would hold on for a loooooong time given the content and all (everyone's fav nihilist and lesbian fight club), but they didn't. I still regularly read fics from both fandoms, make moodboards, the likes, but it feels hollow, no new content being generated like it used to.

I have a theory about this, mostly that most people stopped sustaining fandoms with the rise in disdain for fans in 2020, especially those viewed as "cringe," think about all the "cringe" tiktok compilations on YouTube, mostly involving kids just cosplaying as their favs. This rise in online bullying to in-person bullying sorta ostracized anyone who liked something "too much." To be quite honest, I was one of those kids in middle school, odd, strange, and "too much," and, at times, I feel like I cannot discuss my interests or share them due to feeling like I will be shoved aside and ostracized yet again.

Similarly, I think we lack heavy fandom spaces simply because people do not wish to or cannot focus that much energy on media anymore. For fucks sake, Yellow Jackets should be much more popular than it is, much like how OITNB was. Bottoms should have been a phenomenon. We MOST LITERALLY used to pray for days like these, days where shows and movies consisted of so much queer content, esp queer women! Do y'all remember how bad it was for a while? What, we had trauma porn show where everyone gets shit on or dies all the time (OITNB), lesbian killer shows (The 100), shows with toxic lesbian situationships/relationships (OB), web series (Carmilla), and fucking kid's shows (Steven Universe). Now, that's not saying those shows are bad (except for the 100, which I have a grudge against bc my Anya, MY SHAYLLAAAA), but God, I would've killed to have Bottoms or Wednesday around when I was still in school.

Anywho, all of this is just a long-winded way to say: please create content, be the change you wanna see in fandom spaces. Make that Pinterest board, be a fandom blog, post shitty fanfic, argue in the tags, make headcanons, watch and rewatch more things you enjoy, engage with things even if they feel cringy, please, fandom space depends on all of us and our passions! Do not bow to people who view creation and passion as cringe!

TO BE CRINGE IS TO BE FREE

personally I think it’s a shame how fandoms “died” too soon these days. I’m not talking in literal sense and I know there are people who stay passionate about their fandoms long after the hype is gone. I’m talking about the “popularity” and how people in general engage with a piece of media they like and how fast they let the hype die down? I don’t know if I’m making any sense, but what I’m trying to say is a fanfic or a fan art of a show that is recently released will get tons of likes, comments, reblogs which is great. but the engagement for fan made content about that same show usually drops drastically — and I mean drastically — once the show is no longer “recent”. and I’m not even talking about when the show is several years old. because you can see the significant drop of engagement a fanfic or fan art about that show receives once the show is like a month old or two. it’s discouraging how most people tend to lose interest and stop engaging with fanfic / fan art once its source material is no longer “new and shiny”.

especially when writing fanfics and creating fan art take time. writers and artists often receive less engagement / appreciation for their works if they take “too long” to create and the source material is no longer “new and shiny” and so people move on to something else that’s new and shiny. it’s heartbreaking to see.

obviously this is in no way to manipulate or guilt trip people into engaging with anything. because yeah you can do whatever you want. this isn’t to force, manipulate or guilt trip anyone into liking or reblogging a fan work or anything. this is just me hoping people will one day take things slower and enjoy things they’re passionate about longer like how we used to in the past.

[ricoka]

this is so depressing and infuriating

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[tenrose]

So in the end today might have started with a breakdown and me saying we should kill all men but I redirected my rage pretty well. Bow tomorrow I will have to say "ok one or two men can live and humanity has like two good aspects (food and books, and food again), sorry about yesterday"

[more-glitter-more-pizzazz]

These are the days in your life

When the price of time is free

Like your daddy said the world is yours

So let it flow naturally

[onlythebravest]

-

[deepestwater]

I genuinely can't with my little sister anymore. Why is she everything I'm not.

[destinywillowleaf]

alright, this is one HELL of a shot in the dark, but...

I'm trying to find the origin fic of this song. "Too Big For Us" was a song that was included at the end of a Voltron Legendary Defender fic and I cannot for the life of me find the story.

There is every chance that this fic was deleted.

From what I remember, it was a Lance-centric 5+1 about him being the one to act as support for the others (and then the team supporting him in turn). I'm 99% sure it was on FFN since I didn't really start reading fics on AO3 until 2019-ish. The song might've been something put in an author's note as a broken up YouTube link thanks to no outside links allowed on FFN. (It... COULD have been Hunk as the focus character? but I'm pretty sure it was Lance. I've been telling myself it was Lance as the focus at least. god if it ends up being hunk and ) There weren't any ships as far as I remember either.

The file says it was modified on February 19th, 2017, which I assume is the day I downloaded it or the day it was published, seeing as the listed "creation" date is in March 2022 and I know I've had it for longer than that. If I'm remembering things right, it was posted as part of the last chapter of the fic, because it was a multichapter (I'm... slightly less confident in the multichapter status but I'm pretty sure it was?)

The order characters are referenced in the song was also the order they were in each chapter... but I have no idea which section Pidge is supposed to be @~@ part of me says I was annoyed/confused about the lack of a Pidge section the first time around too but it's been like 6 years so idk how much of that thought I actually believe. Otherwise, I think the order is Hunk, Keith, Allura & Coran, Shiro, Lance, and Pidge was somewhere in the middle.

The lyrics, as best I can make them out, are under the cut. A few lines are covered up in just the wrong way by the piano chords so I'm sort of guessing with the words in the brackets. (The mixing really isn't the best but I have no room to complain since I'm not a musician of any variety)

Together we sit, as he relearns how to breathe His heart races with panic, deep set anxiety And demons fill his head as he fights off another's Ignore what still hurts as the light of hope is smothered

A boy in a bubble made of experience and fears A knife in hand and heart to protect him from tears Because bonds only seem to lead to pain Until someone can teach him to connect again

And in the end they'll come to me Cause everybody does And we'll fight together Cry together Wipe each other's eyes together In a war too big for us A war too big for us

A family in all but name, they say [stare??] comes in pairs A gentle touch is calming as a [??? braiding] hair When there is too much to do [without?] doing too much Go to him for support, drown their sorrow with a laugh

He's a fellow protector, with secrets to hide Whose fears and insecurities surface in the dead of night He's in need of help but doesn't want to burden That finds a companion, someone to confide in

And in the end they'll come to me Cause everybody does And we'll fight together Cry together Wipe each other's eyes together In a war too big for us A war too big for us

But sometimes your strength Could use some strength of their own, before it's too late Cause even the strongest of pillars Can crumble under the weight

But in the end they'll come to me Cause they know I need some love And we'll fight together Cry together Wipe each other's eyes together In a war too big for us A war too big for us

[thinkinonsense]

I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ

dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader

cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.

wc: 800+

a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!

｡ ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ ｡

The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.

Your Logan.

"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.

Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.

Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?

Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.

"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."

"I know."

Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.

"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.

"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."

Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.

"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."

"You don't have to be."

ᰔ

It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.

All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.

"What are you doin' awake?"

The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.

"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.

"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.

"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.

"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.

"Were we really married?"

You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.

"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.

"Five."

"What was our life like?"

"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."

"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.

"You would have to."

He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.

"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.

Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.

"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"

"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."

You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.

For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.

[wyvernest]

cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader

previous(first) part - next part | all chapters list

>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark.

cw: slow burn, fluff, eventual smut, angst, follows book events with slight deviations, im planning to let jacaerys live! every chapter is around 2k wc

chapter cw: tension, fluff, a little angst, they are starting to fall for eachother

“The ceremony will be held tomorrow.” Cregan’s deep and steely voice rings with an imposing echo onto the stone walls of the great hall of Winterfell. “My lady is worn from the journey.”

Although the order seemingly held some benevolence to your sore legs and southern blood barely adjusting to the newfound cold, his voice feels so detached that you find yourself wondering whether he truly did care for your spirits, or if he only wished it as a polite formality.

“I will take my leave before sundown, sister.” Jacaerys places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I must be back at Dragonstone before the new moon.”

“Ill news?” you ask, already troubled and feeling incapacitated from protecting and helping your family.

“Ser Criston Cole marches on Duskendale lands. I must be present at the council to take action.”

“What about me?” You worry, and only after speaking do you realize how stupid the question was.

Jacaerys takes a moment to reply, evidently not wanting to make you feel more secluded than you were.

“I will not make any decision that you wouldn't have in my stead.” He decides, “I will send you ravens to inform you, and represent you.” a pause, “unofficially.”

There is nothing more to be said. Any words he could sweeten end with the same inevitable finale. No raven could fly fast enough to deliver your ideas soon enough for the Greens not to gain an advantage over the reluctance of your team.

You are a pawn. Your dragon is a pawn. And you will only read about the war as if it were history before you could contribute.

“I understand.” You manage to let out without showing how disturbed you are and possibly making the northern lords think that you were terrified to marry their leader.

With a hug too frail to even begin to express how much you will miss him, your brother mounts his dragon after the welcoming festivities in the great hall and takes off with a blow of wings that normally would have had you taking a few steps back from Vermax.

But now it didn't matter anymore. You watch as your only friend dissolves into the skies thick with white clouds, becoming nothing but a raven in the distance.

Suvion cries out, a sharp, strained screech that only pain as great as yours could have caused, and the clouds answer, though you cannot see him anymore.

You are taken aback at the feeling of heavy pelts placed upon your shoulders, and only then you realize how cold you are. Your frigid fingers reach around your own neck to grasp at it and keep it from falling.

“The cold is treacherous. One moment you may think you're warm, and the following, your heart stops.” Cregan comes to stand next to you, looking away to where Vermax had disappeared.

“Thank you, my lord.” You speak coyly, quietly, so he wouldn't catch the crack in your voice and think you weak and soft. Perhaps in a different situation, you would have blushed at his kindness, but the ice wall you felt between you and him was now more palpable than ever. Alone, with a stranger.

“You should come inside.” He insists, but it is not advice, it's a courteous command.

Without a word, you turn and listen. You are escorted to your chamber in the castle, and as you pass through the halls, you look around like a lowborn in a dragonpit. At least that's what it must look like, but in your heart it was storming; how different the place was from what you have known your whole life, the people, the sounds in the yard, the very air of the keep.

He stops in front of your door, beckoning you inside.

“Send for me should you need anything your handmaiden cannot provide.”

His voice is softer, as if trying to indulge you and your loss. As if he understands.

“Yes, my lord.”

“Cregan.”

You do not know for certain if there truly is a gleam of affection in his eyes as he says it, but you do know that you held yourself back from leaning forward in his arms.

Oh, how you wanted to just let it out, and how you wanted him to hold you through it. To offer some comfort that, at least, he cared for you. That he wasn't a cold hearted man with nothing warmer than diplomatic skills. Whom you would have to learn how to love the hard way. Only you know how your heart briefly yearned for him to offer you strength.

But alas, it was not proper. Too soon.

“Cregan.” You accept, and he barely hears it. Your heart sinks when he nods politely and slowly shuts the door, and it sinks further at the sound of his boots on the cold stone outside your chamber, walking away.

A terribly tragic thought slips into your tired mind; that he is betrothed to you, yet his heart belongs to another. Northerners love northerners, and the Stark men have mostly married into vassal houses of the north in the past.

No matter how loyal he is to be from now, his thoughts will always be about her, the people will always know about her.

Suvion's head appears at your window, blocking out the moonlight.

“Oh, you,” You whine, opening the windows and laying your upper body on his snout.

You hear someone gasp and scream in the courtyard, no doubt because of the dragon clawing at the walls of the castle.

“We should find some place good for you. Somewhere safe and warm.” He growls sorrowfully, as if aware.

But it doesn't last long. As quickly as he came at the window, Suvion rips away from your touch and carefully leaps out of the castle yard and up into the night sky. His otherwise white scales now partly reflect the dark of night in their shine, making it impossible for you to even tell how high up he was.

Alone again. You knew he wouldn't go far, that he only needed to hunt and come back, but you wished for leverage that was now gone.

Restless and troubled, you decide to take a stroll around the keep that is to be yours in less than a day.

You follow your curiosity back to the great hall, from where you hear whispered voices and see glimmers of lit torches.

“...of the beast. Food is scarce.”

“It will set eyes upon us.”

“Lord Glover, this is necessary. I do not wish-”

The lords at the table turn abruptly at the sight of the shadow you cast into the obscured hall.

“My lady. Is everything alright?” You hear Cregan's voice, his face away from light.

You feel embarrassed and stupid, interrupting a clearly important talk of resources that did not yet concern you and making the impression of a spoiled, uneducated woman.

“No- I didn't mean to intrude.”

“You could never be intruding on talks of our domain.” He attempts to soothe your nerves, although the implication of responsibilities is indomitable in his tone.

You approach them, carefully eyeing the other lords, feeling quite literally akin to a lizard slithering into a den of wolves. You cannot read anything on their stern faces, and it doesn't fail to make you uneasy and put your guard up.

“The dragon, my lady,” one of them starts, a man well past his youth, “he is a welcomed weapon in the North, although -”

“Although it is true that war has brought us both here, my lord, a dragon is not a weapon.” You warn with a poised expression, as respectfully as you could, yet fire dripped from your words.

The other men frowned in surprise and disapproval, but said nothing. You glance at Cregan, by your side, hoping to be faced with kindness, but instead your heart skips a beat at the sight of a cutthroat look he was throwing at the men, protective of your contribution.

“-apologies. The dragon is a welcomed ally. But livestock is barely enough to get us through what's to come. What are we to offer? Sheep?”

“We have endured harsher winters with lesser than we have today.” Your betrothed reassures, despite the evident growing concern.

“Suvion is big enough to hunt for himself, I dare say. The cold doesn't seem to burden him. There is absolutely no need to thin out the herd for him, my lords.”

You struggle to conceal a sharp gasp when his hand runs up your lower back. A way to show approval of your input, no doubt, yet you find that every crumble of affection he grants you is more than enough to spark fire in your body. Is that what you have come to?

You were worried enough that the rough stoicism of the north man wouldn't provide half the love you dreamed of, yet now you falter on that thought. If such a touch is already setting you alight, what would more do?

“A good omen. Prince Velaryon’s first visit wasn't as uneventful.”

“It is settled then. We will discuss other matters after the wedding.” He commanded, and your stomach flipped at the mention of your union.

With the lords out of the room, Cregan turns to you.

“I thought you would be resting. It's near the hour of the ghosts.” He speaks gently with a warm vibration in his voice, as if you have been wedded for years and he knows all about your practices and nature.

“I couldn't. The more I lay there waiting, the more it felt like I would never find sleep again.”

A faint smile lights up your tense visage, an instinctual way of wanting to see him soften as well.

He looks intently, clearly understanding of your friendliness, but it does nothing to soothe his brow further.

“Come. I wish to speak with you, since neither of us cannot find slumber.”

Neither of us? What is that supposed to mean?

You once again hook your arm around his, his body heat immediately warming you up and putting you at ease. He leads you into his chambers, a strong fire already lit in the hearth.

“Is this proper?”

“Whoever shall dare speak ill of my wife will never speak again.”

A shiver runs up your spine. Whether it's a pleasant or a distressed one, you cannot tell anymore.

“I know how you must feel, although it may not seem like it.” He begins, beckoning you to sit on the edge of the bed. “It's the duty that comes with the name.”

“Yes.” You agree, wanting to hear more of what he wishes to tell you. “Although my biggest concern lies with my position. I feel…” You cease before you could say something like “trapped” or “exiled”. He has been nothing but good to you since you arrived and you do not want to seem ungrateful or hostile. You do like him.

But before you could find the right words, he kneels in front of you on the floor and takes your hands in his. Your heart stops. Your brain shuts down. Gods.

“-powerless.” He untangles your mind and finishes your thought. “But you aren't. We will offer help, I do not intend to trample the oath I swore to your brother. The oath I am to swear to you.” He adds, his tone is soft and tender yet his words so meaningful and heavy, you hear them as though their echo reverberated in the entire room around you.

His thumb delicately rubs over your knuckles, his expression as stoic as ever, only his actions speak differently. He leans forward and places a kiss on the back of your hand, assuring and loving.

You draw in a sharp breath, as if you haven't felt affection before in your life.

“Cregan.” is all you manage.

“It is true that this union was made with interest. But you are not unwanted, my lady. I believe we will find more than allies in each other.”

TAGS!! im sorry for those that don't work its tumblr's fault i checked all of them multiple times

@cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @ithilwen-blackwood @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @drwho-ess @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner

@wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips @oxymakestheworldgoround @daisyhams @notmycanoe @percyjacksonspeen

@squidscottjeans @itchkhiara @klutzylaena @heylittlelollita @scrumptiousloser @karmaswitch

[charmedimsure]

uuuhhhhhm can i pretty pretty please with cherries on top request a Dae-ho x reader where the reader was also in the military? but its like that ep. where they revolutionized? if that makes sense? idk i think it be cool if reader eas good eith a gun

anyways HAVE A LOVELY DAY/ NIGHT love reading your stuff (i binge read it :p)

WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x gn!reader

summary: As a former soldier, you know just what to do when all hell breaks loose.

word count: 3.7k

warnings: guns, death, blood, squid game stuff, panic attacks, ptsd

A/N: i've played so many shooting games i feel like i've been training to write this fic my entire life. i even named it after a shield from my favorite game (brownie points if you know which game). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3 tried to make this gender neutral but if you find any slip ups lmk so i can fix it

**this can be read as romantic or platonic**

You look at the woman standing between bunks with wide eyes. You weren't sure earlier when you saw her on the screen, but seeing her standing ten feet away from you, you're absolutely positive that you know who this is.

"Sergeant?"

Cho Hyun-ju turns and gasps when she sees you, a smile lighting up her face. She quickly embraces you, you happily hugging her back. You were always her favorite soldier (she never admitted it, being the sergeant of the Brigade, but you both knew she liked you best). You were one of the only people who supported her when she came out. You tried to fight against her discharge but, as a low-ranking soldier, you had no say in the matter.

"I knew it had to be you!" you say, pulling back with a smile. "When I saw someone go back into the playing field to help a guy with only ten seconds left, I just knew it was my sergeant!"

"It's good to see you," she says. "Though, I wish it was under better circumstances."

You nod solemnly. You had just watched at least a hundred people die while screaming and begging for their lives. As a former soldier, it was hard that you couldn't do anything to help the civilians. All you could do was stand there and listen to the screams and gunshots, and then the silence.

"How are you here? Are you not part of the Brigade anymore?" Hyun-ju asks.

You shake your head. "No, I actually left not long after you were discharged. It wasn't the same without you, and I just couldn't be civil with the others after how they treated you."

She nods, understanding. "Well, if I'm going to be here with anyone, I'm glad it's you. I trust you with my life, soldier."

You smile. "And I you, Sergeant."

<>

You and Hyun-ju had made it through the next two games together, along with some allies you made along the way. Together with Young-mi, Yong-sik, and Geum-ja, you had been the first team to succeed in the six-legged pentathlon.

You had also made it though Mingle with some new allies, though not all of your old allies made it. Young-mi's death was hard on your whole group, but Hyun-ju had been taking it the worst. While you had grown closer with Yong-sik and Geum-ja, she had formed a special bond with the young girl and had to watch her die right in front of her.

While you would like to take the time to mourn Young-mi, a lot has happened in the few hours since the third game ended. The vote on whether to go home or stay ended in a 50-50 tie, meaning you're going to have to redo the vote tomorrow. Then, a huge fight apparently broke out in the men's bathroom, leaving five players dead.

Both sides group together to count their numbers, and you find that there's now one more X than O. While the players around you celebrate, a feeling of dread shoots through you.

"Attention please. Lights out in 30 minutes. All players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime."

Shit.

Player 047 stands in front of the group. "Listen, you cannot change your minds. We have to win the second vote and get out of here tomorrow, alright?"

As the other players around you nod and move to their beds, you stay sitting, watching the O players. They're already looking at your group. Watching. Waiting. You look at Gi-hun, the previous winner, and know that he's thinking the same thing you are.

<>

"Those bastards are acting suspicious," Dae-ho says, returning to the small circle you formed on the ground. "It looks like they're up to something."

Jung-bae breathes out a laugh. "Whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it'll all be over."

"You think we'll be okay?" Dae-ho asks, concerned. "They say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier."

"We need to be ready," you say from your place between Dae-ho and Gyeong-seok. "They've been watching us since the moment they found out the prize money goes up if we kill each other."

The group around you tenses before Gi-hun speaks up as well. "Once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us."

"Really?" Yong-sik asks from beside his mother.

Gi-hun nods. "Because if they kill us, they'll be able to win the vote and increase the prize."

"So what do we do?" Yong-sik asks.

"Let's attack them first," Young-il suggests. "They're probably thinking we'll just wait for the second vote. We can use it to our advantage. We'll attack them first once the lights go out."

"That's right," Player 047 says. "It'd be better to attack them first. We have more women and elderly on our side. If we get attacked we'll be at a disadvantage." You send him a glare that makes him freeze for a moment before continuing. "Attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning."

"I agree," Player 145 adds.

"We can't do that," Gi-hun says.

"But we have to get out of here," Young-il argues. "You said it yourself. Staying calm won't get us anywhere now."

"That doesn't mean we should kill each other," Gi-hun says. "That's exactly what they want us to do."

Jung-bae leans forward. "'They'?"

Gi-hun looks at him. "The ones who created this game." He turns to face the rest of the circle. "The ones who watch us play. If we're going to fight someone, it should be them."

It's silent before Dae-ho speaks up. "Where are they?"

Gi-hun looks to the ceiling. "Up there."

You all follow his gaze before looking around at each other.

"On the upper levels," Gi-hun says, "are the rooms they control the games from. The man in the black mask is their leader. Once we capture him, we'll be able to win."

"How are you going to fight them?" Young-il asks. "They have guns."

"We'll fight them with guns, too," Gi-hun says.

"But we don't have any," Jung-bae says.

Gi-hun turns to him. "We'll take their guns."

You and Hyun-ju look at each other. This is what you were trained for.

"From those masked men?" Gyeong-seok asks nervously.

Gi-hun nods.

"That's too dangerous," Young-il says. "Even if we manage to take a few guns, we'll still be outnumbered."

"What then?" Gi-hun argues. "Are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? Is that what you want, Young-il?"

Hyun-ju breaks the silence. "Do we... stand a chance?"

"We do if we catch them off guard," Gi-hun says. "Out of everyone, they're the ones who would least expect us to attack first. This is our last chance to end these games once and for all."

"How are you going to take their guns?" Young-il asks.

"Once the fight begins tonight, we'll have our chance."

<>

"Lights out in ten seconds."

"Ten,

nine,

eight,

seven,

six,

five,

four,

three,

two,

one."

The lights dim, then turn off completely, leaving only the red and blue lights from the floor.

You roll out of bed, getting under the frame. You feel someone else trying to get under your bed, and you move a bit to make room for Dae-ho. Just as you get in position, you see bodies creeping towards your side of the room, illuminated by the bright blue O on the floor.

There's a scream, and all hell breaks loose.

The lights strobe as you hear the sounds of screaming and bottles being smashed coming from all around you. Somewhere to your right, a bunk is toppled over, sending someone to the ground. Another player runs up to them, stabbing their fork into their neck.

You feel the ex-Marine next to you tense up and put a hand over his, trying to bring him some comfort, or at the very least trying to keep him from blowing your cover.

You hear the buzzer of the door and the lights come on. One of the soldiers fires into the air to stop the fighting as about twenty masked guards come into the room, all armed.

You quickly army crawl out from under the bed, Dae-ho following you as you lay down on the ground.

You hear footsteps getting closer to you, and your ear is moved as a device scans behind it.

You open your eyes, grabbing the soldier so they can't move. "Dae-ho! Now!"

The ex-Marine smashes a bottle over the head of the guard, knocking him unconscious. You take the opportunity to grab the submachine gun off of the soldier, shooting another soldier coming toward you and Dae-ho. You're so focused on the fight that you fail to notice the quivering boy holding his hands over his ears against the bunks.

Grabbing another gun, you quickly scale one of the bunks to get a better vantage of the fight.

"Sergeant!" You yell, gaining the attention of Hyun-ju. She looks to you and you toss the SMG to her. She drops her pistol and catches the weapon, turning just in time to shoot one of the pink guards coming for her.

You use your position to fire at the guards hiding behind bunks. You pull the trigger until you hear a click, cursing as the mag runs empty. You jump down from the bunk, using the butt of the gun to knock a guard out cold. You quickly take his ammo and reload your own gun, firing at a guard trying to shoot Gi-hun.

"Retreat. Retreat."

The voice over the intercom announces and the pink soldiers make their way towards the door. You're able to shoot two more, but most of the soldiers who are still alive are able to make it out of the room. The main guard with the square on his mask is too busy firing back to realize that the door has closed behind him, sealing him in the room with you just as he runs out of ammo.

"Stop! Hold fire!" Gi-hun yells.

Jung-bae and another player run over to the square guard, making sure he won't fight.

"You goddamn bastards!" you hear someone yell on the other side of the room and turn to see Player 047 aiming his gun at a bunch of O players.

"No!" Gi-hun yells, stopping the man before he can shoot. "This is not what we took these guns for. If we do this, we'll be no different from those masked men."

Player 047 lowers his gun, hanging his head and he softly cries.

Gi-hun steps to the center of the room. "Everyone! Don't be scared. Gather round, please! We're not trying to hurt you!"

You walk to stand by Hyun-ju and Gyeong-seok.

"Get the guns and ammo from the dead," she tells the both of you.

You nod, doing as your sergeant says while she takes out the cameras in the room.

<>

Placing one of the last guns on the mattress in the center of the room, you move to stand in line between Jung-bae and Dae-ho, handing the extra SMG in your hand to Dae-ho.

Gi-hun steps forward. "Everyone. We will now head up to the masked men's headquarters. We'll capture the ones who captured us, put an end to this game, and make them pay. Anyone who knows how to use a gun and wishes to join us, please step forward."

You look at the crowd in front of you, but everyone stays where they are.

"Hey," you hear a voice next to you say and turn your head to see Jung-bae stepping forward. "I know you're scared. I'm scared too. But this may be our last chance to make it out of this place alive. Fight with us so we can go home together. All together."

One of the players in the back of the crowd steps forward. "I'll fight with you."

Gi-hun waves at him to come and take a gun. Two other players come forward as well.

You watch as Yong-sik makes a move to step forward, but he catches your gaze as you shake your head at him. It's very brave of him to think about volunteering, but he hasn't even served his mandatory military service yet, and it would kill his mother if he didn't come back. You breathe a sigh of relief when Yong-sik stays where he is.

When it's clear that no one else is stepping forward, Gi-hun turns to you all. "Please check your guns and ammo."

"Let's take one radio each," Jung-bae says. "We'll use channel 7, the lucky number."

You put the strap of your gun around you, checking the mag and putting it back in place when you're satisfied with the amount of ammo that is left. You look to your right to see Dae-ho fiddling with his own gun. Just as you're about to help him, Hyun-ju steps forward.

"Attention," she says, holding up her gun. "This is the MP5, a submachine gun." She continues on the demonstrate how to load the weapon and set it to the mode you should be using. When she's done, she looks at you all. "Are we clear?"

"Yes," you answer, falling right back into the rhythm with your sergeant.

Hyun-ju nods to you, silently telling you to stay by her when you get out there.

"How do you two know each other?" Dae-ho questions, his voice a bit shaky.

You smirk, cocking the MP5. "I was in the 13th Special Missions Brigade. Hyun-ju was my sergeant."

Dae-ho stares at you, completely stunned. "You were in the Decapitation Unit?!"

You chuckle at his disbelief, nodding.

The man can't believe it. He's been bragging about being an ex-Marine while there's been two ex-Special Forces soldiers right next to him the whole time.

Gi-hun points a pistol at the square-masked guard. "Take it off."

The guard slowly removes his mask, revealing a boy no older than 25.

"Good God," Jung-bae says. "Do your parents know what you're doing here?"

The guard just stares at him.

Gi-hun cocks the pistol. "Take us to your captain."

<>

"All players, it is bedtime now. Please return to your quarters immediately. Otherwise, you will be eliminated from the game. Let me repeat..."

Gi-hun fires at the speaker, effectively shutting up the voice. Three guards are stood over you. "Get down!"

You duck behind the wall of the stairs. Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you turn to look at Hyun-ju behind you.

"Cover me!"

You nod, shooting at the guards while she sprints to the top of the stairs. From her new vantage point, she is able to take out one of the guards, causing their body to fall over the ledge and down to the floor.

When you duck down to reload, you see Dae-ho next to you. The ex-Marine is sitting in a ball, covering his ears and flinching every time a shot rings out. You look at him with concern, but your attention is stolen by Gi-hun telling everyone to hold their fire. Dae-ho gets a grip on his weapon and you all move, following Gi-hun and the un-masked guard.

As you move down an alleyway, Gi-hun stops the guard. "How much farther? Is this the right way?"

The boy points toward the end of the hall. "The entrance to the management area is around that corner. The control room is right above it."

Gi-hun pushes him. "Move it, then!"

"Wait," the guard says, reaching toward his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Gi-hun stops him.

"I need my mask to pass security," the guard explains. Gi-hun nods and the guard takes the mask out. He looks up, but before he can say anything else, a bullet goes right through his head.

You all take cover as more shots are fired at you. Something slashes onto your face, and you turn to see Player 072's lifeless body falling to the ground.

You drop the floor and crawl over to Hyun-ju, both of you taking positions in a green square area of the stairs. You nod to each other and duck out of cover, firing at the guards. You can hear the men speaking to each other at the other end of the line, but you focus on taking out as many guards as possible.

You and Hyun-ju alternate firing and taking cover, both of you shooting with deadly precision, doing your best to not waste any of the already low supply of ammo you have.

A player next to you screams and is shot. You turn, shooting at the guard approaching from your rear, taking out a few that are behind that one as well.

"Everyone! Check your magazines!" Hyun-ju calls out.

You take the mag out of the gun, seeing that you have about half of a clip left. Everyone announces that they're around the same.

"Young-il, Dae-ho, can you hear me?" The voice of Jung-bae erupts from your radio.

"Go ahead!" Young-il says.

"I think we're right below the control room." Shots can be heard in the background. "But we need backup and more ammo."

"We're running out of ammo, too!"

"There should be spare magazines in the soldiers' pockets in our quarters. Go get them!" Gi-hun yells through the radio.

"Did you hear that?" Young-il turns to the group. "They need backup! Three of us will go, and the rest will stay! Join us once you get the magazines! Who wants to go with me?"

Players 047 and ... volunteer and they run off towards the end of the hall.

"I'll go get the magazines!" Hyun-ju yells. "I'll come back as soon as I can, so just hold on until then!"

"Hyun-ju!" A voice yells. You turn to see Dae-ho raising his hand. "I'll go!" He hurries over to where you and Hyun-ju are taking cover. "I- I'm out of ammo."

"Do you know the way?" Gyeong-seok asks. Dae-ho nods.

"We destroyed the cameras on the way, follow them," Hyun-ju says.

"I'll go with him," you say. "I still have some ammo, so I'll cover him."

Hyun-ju nods. "I'll cover you. Go!"

You and Dae-ho take off down the stairs. He stops a few times, but you pull him along, keeping your eyes up to watch for the broken cameras. As you're running down the stairs, Dae-ho stops, and you turn to see him staring at a dead guard hanging over the ledge of a window.

"Dae-ho!" Jung-bae yells. "Can you hear me? Where are those magazines?"

You lift your own radio to your mouth. "We're getting them now."

"Alright! We're counting on you!"

You put your radio back in your pocket, grabbing Dae-ho's hand and pulling him along behind you.

You burst into the quarters, letting go of Dae-ho's hand as you sprint to a guard, taking the spare mags out of their pockets. You hear someone say your name and look up to see Yong-sik.

"What happened? Why are you back by yourselves?"

"We're low on ammo," you say, not looking up from the guard you're looting. "We need to get the magazines from their pockets. Help us!"

You look up to the boy to see him nod and run over to a nearby guard. Geum-ja and Jun-hee come over to the help, as well.

Once you've looted all the ammo from the guards, you place them into a jacket you found on one of the dead players. You tie it up and give it to Dae-ho, thanking the others as you lead him out of the room.

Gunshots can be heard as soon as you step outside. You keep moving but when you check behind you, you see that Dae-ho has stopped where he is.

"Dae-ho, we need to go," you urge.

He looks at you silently, but the fear in his eyes sends the message. You've seen soldiers like this before you joined the Special Forces.

Dae-ho stands in his spot, paralyzed other than the shake of his body in fear.

You hear your name and Dae-ho's through the radio. "Where are you? Can you hear me?"

You watch as Dae-ho lifts his radio, staring at it as Hyun-ju's voice comes through.

"Did you find the magazines? Are you on your way?"

Dae-ho looks at you. "I'm sorry," he whispers, dropping the radio on the ground and running back into the quarters with the magazines.

"Shit," you say under your breath. You follow Dae-ho into the room, looking around to find where he went. Yong-sik points toward a bunk and you find Dae-ho curled up there, rocking back and forth. Running over to him, you take the jacket with the mags, ready to run out of there. You take a look at Dae-ho, the pure fear coursing through him as he whispers apologies over and over.

You sigh, remembering one of the lessons Hyun-ju taught you as your sergeant.

Never leave a man behind.

Taking out your radio, you bring it to your lips and press the button. "Charlie Foxtrot."

You put your radio down, knowing that Hyun-ju will know what to do. You had picked up the phrase from your U.S. counterparts, saying it to each other when something goes wrong.

Moving to sit on the bed, you take Dae-ho's hands into yours. "Dae-ho, I need you to breathe with me, alright."

He slowly looks at your face before launching himself into your arms, sobbing into your shoulder. You rub his back comfortingly, knowing you can't leave him alone like this.

After a few minutes, Hyun-ju runs into the room shouting you and Dae-ho's names. She comes running over to you, stopping when she sees Dae-ho in your arms.

"What happened?"

Dae-ho jumps a bit at the new voice, burying his face farther into your jacket.

You look up a Hyun-ju, shaking your head at her. She nods, understanding. You point at the magazines and she scoops them into her arms, ready to take them to the others when the buzzer for the door goes off and more pink guards enter the room, firing in the air and making everyone scream.

Hyun-ju reloads her SMG, ready to take on the entire group on guards by herself. You watch as Geum-ja puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"You can't die like this."

You sigh in relief as Hyun-ju puts the gun down. From your hidden area, you try to get the guns and mags away from you, making it seem as though the three of you have been here the whole time.

As the guards come further into the room, you use your body to shield Dae-ho from them as he whimpers. You make eye contact with Hyun-ju. Whatever happens next, you'll face it as a team.

~

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck @ally1uvsu @thebiggestigurosimp @come-as-you-are-111 @hiphip-horray @k1michii @tpwkcaryslizb @louissst28 @sshwaa @jennwonwoo @sunnysurvives @lalalaa2210 @tayshs @sunshinethatlooksalive @plntmxrss @lxnnrobin @mariaxman @alexx-iia @batty-barty-crouchjr @kxsm3t @takuma-talkz @peacemakersbeloved @skywalker0809 @soobinbunnie5

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[backinmyphase]

Not my mother

Synopsis: As Gojo Satoru's wife you are most of the time alone at home and you have made your peace with that. However a visit from your mother in law results in a pleasant surprise. Well, not for him as he meets your mother.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 4300 words Masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu Clans suck, reader's mom is a warning alone, talking about drugging a person, dark implications

A/n: Sorry for the long wait again! This chapter just seemed especially hard to write :') As usual just say if you want to be tagged and feel free to comment any thoughts regarding this post, it always makes my day. Enjoy!

"Satoru, do you like your family?"

Once in a while there are thoughts that pop up in your head, questions about your husband, that you are just slipping out of your mouth. After all you two didn't really have much time together. Question because of time away from him. So much time.

You sit with him at the breakfast table, the big table now not used anymore, just a little one where you sit opposite of each other. Now you can fully see how he is taken by surprise. How his eyebrows rise. And how his lips...

In the last days you really had strange thoughts.

"Do you?"

You stopped eating for a second, now realizing what kind of question that is. Someone else would think the answer had to be obvious. But when your family is a Clan it seems so strange to talk about it as 'family'.

"I... Do. I think." your voice was nothing more than a whisper.

He looked at you with these eyes that seemed to look right through you. And even though you didn't think you were lying, you didn't know if it was the truth either.

Then he shrugged.

"If I'm being honest, I don't really. I don't really see them as family. They are just people I'm representing." he chews for a bit, but then stops. "You know, they didn't treat me as family either. So I guess I never saw them as it."

He looked up with an almost apologetic look. "Too cold?"

"What? No!" you shook your head. "I'm the one asking. I'm happy with the honest answer."

"And you know," you fidgeted with your ring. The feeling of it cold, heavy. "I get what you mean. In fact I think you described my feelings really well."

He looked at you like always when he didn't really get what you meant but didn't want to ask. But this morning you dropped the topic of family as he had to go on missions and you... Had to get rid of your boredom with other ways.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"So I am free for half of the day?" Satoru couldn't believe as he heard the news from Yaga.

"Not really. There's just someone who requested a meeting with you. And you have to go Gojo, I don't want to hear any excuses." Yaga had still that tone like when Gojo was his student. And somehow it was still working.

"Yeah, yeah. When is it?"

"Just read the formula I gave you!" he sighed. "It's in half an hour."

"Okay, okay." Satoru looked back at the formula Yaga gave him, wondering why he had to go to their house of this person for a meeting they requested, but sure.

He was slightly annoyed he couldn't just go home to you.

Since last week the only thing on his mind when he went on missions was how and when he got back to his wife. Even though he wished he had more free time with you, it was calming to just have a regular evening talk with you.

No pressure, no higher-ups. Just talking.

You had such a pretty smile and he was such an idiot to make you not smile so freely before. He couldn't believe how easily you have forgiven him. Because he sure hasn't. Everytime he saw you sleep on the couch when he came back he felt bad. Like he was still not doing enough.

Since when did he feel like he wasn't doing enough?

He still had to learn so much about you. How to make you laugh regularly and what was your favorite food. And how not to make you angry or sad. Because that was something he wanted to avoid by all costs.

He looked at the address and it did seem familiar. But he didn't remember from where. But somewhere in the back of his mind, something was telling him that this seemed like an obvious trap.

But he didn't want to piss of his old teacher.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The Gojo mansion was warming up to you. Even though it was often still empty and cold, you did find the garden and library endearing.

But you missed Satoru.

Without him this house still didn't feel like home, no matter how many books you started to read or how many facts Hina told you about the plants in the garden.

Whenever he came back in the evening the time was always passing so fast. Sometimes you just wanted to have a new honeymoon without the pressure. Just him and time. After all, you never went to that restaurant.

But wishing and thinking of what if's wasn't a good pass of the time. You still had to build your own life.

Oftentimes you went into the kitchen to watch the work of the chefs and chat with them, but today you didn't feel like it. You didn't want to admit it but you were bored.

The hours alone at home were eating you up. When you distracted yourself from your anxious thoughts regarding the Clan matter, the boredom came. Maybe you were just not cut out to be a stay at home wife. Or maybe you grew too lazy. Oh, what would your mother say when she would see you complaining? She would eat you up.

You strolled through the mansion alone, wondering again why the big house was so empty. No old pictures of Gojo or anything like that. Why?

And as you went to the garden, you couldn't help but sigh at your lack of tasks and-

"Of course he didn't get a gardener! Even though I have told him for months! Always just a little boy with too much-"

You couldn't move as you looked at the woman who sat between the lilies. Speechless because the last time you saw her was on your wedding day as your mother ranted about her and her son.

Mrs. Gojo had such a strong presence.

Even when she was just ranting about her son.

"Oh my!" her eyes lit up as she spotted you. And even though they didn't have the color of the ones your husband had, they had the same light and crinkle when they were excited.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" she got up, cleared her very expensive looking dress and slowly strutted towards to you. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!"

"Pleasure meeting you again." you bowed your head a bit, you still had to be careful in the presence of your mother in law. "But I didn't know you would visit today Mrs. Gojo?"

"Oh please drop the formals!" she shook her head and for the first time she really smiled. Like a real sincere smile. "We are both Mrs. Gojo now, aren't we? You can call me Ayaka."

"If you say so Mrs- I mean Ayaka." she nodded approvingly while having an amused glint in her eyes. "Ayaka, I wasn't informed you would come to visit. Is there a something you want to discuss with Satoru? If so he is at work-"

She laughed and shook her head. "Oh I know don't worry. I'm not here for him. I'm tending the garden. Once in a month I come here to make sure the Gojo garden isn't forgotten. The boy seemed to forget his mother the moment she wasn't living here anymore."

"Oh." now as she mentioned it, you never saw anyone in the garden tending the flowers before. You just assumed there was someone who did it, because... Well it was Gojo's garden.

"Do you like it?" Your mother in law pointed at the lila flowers that were blooming in the center of all the flowers. "I planted those Hydrangeas at your wedding day. They seem to bloom very well."

"Oh, yeah. They are very beautiful." It was calming to watch those flowers dance in the wind.

"Do you have fresh tea?" Gojo's mother held her head high, her hands intertwined at waist height as she looked at you. "I would like to drink one with you."

Perplexed you blinked at her. "I think we do. Is there a special occasion?"

"Oh, you know." she gently took your arm, intertwining it with her own as she took steady steps towards the mansion. "I just want to talk with my daughter in law about her and her husband."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

The mansion, which had the address, wasn't the biggest. But it was big enough Satoru knew it had to be of a Clan.

Now, Meetings with other Clans weren't unusual. In fact they were a remaining part of his childhood. But most of the time the Clan came to him and it was planned weeks prior.

There were no plants outside, no decorations.

Satoru walked with slow, steady steps. He couldn't afford to be caught of guard. And even though this was just a meeting he felt cursed energy from somewhere in the mansion.

He rang and waited.

One. Two. Three.

Should he ring again? Or should he just go home to you-

A maid opened the door, her eyes widening as she saw him. "Gojo Satoru?"

"Yeah?" what was with that reaction? "I was ordered here for a meeting." But in reality no one should order him around-

"Oh yes. But the lady of the house is busy right now." she opened the door far enough for him to step inside. "Let me show you the room of the meeting and serve you tea while you wait."

He didn't want to be here. It felt like a bad horror movie and his gut told him he should tell Yaga that he couldn't attend such meetings. But he didn't want another higher-up at his doorstep, so he did step in.

The mansion had a couple of pictures. People he didn't know looking at him with such stone cold faces. Who would want that kind of picture?

The hallway was long, multiple doors were passed as he followed the maid.

And then there was that door.

He knew. There was the cursed energy he felt. It wasn't a normal amount. It had such a presence, it had to be a curse of some sort. Or a curse user.

No matter what, his gut wanted him to rip the door open and end it.

"Mr. Gojo?" the maid wasn't pleased he stopped in his tracks. No, in fact she looked a bit frightened. "The appointment room is a couple doors down there."

"Is it?" he looked at the wooden door before him and wondered what this 'lady' wanted from him. And why she had this much cursed energy in one of her rooms.

"Then let's keep going."

It wasn't for long, when he followed the maid into a small room. It had a table ready with cups.

"I will serve tea as you are waiting." the maid was already hurrying to get out.

"Wait! I don't need tea right now." she stopped at the doorframe and looked at him.

And she had that eerily smile. "But my lady insists."

With that she turned around and left him alone. What in the world was that? This whole thing was becoming more and more weird with the second he spend here. But he did sat down at the table.

However he didn't touch the tea that was him served.

The room he was in was kinda spooky. It didn't have anything precisely unusual in it, but the atmosphere was killing him.

There were medals and certificates on the walls. Some flowers were put underneath like it was meant to show pride. But if they would really be proud there wouldn't be any dust on these highly things.

He didn't wait for long. But maybe that wouldn't have been so bad.

The door opened and an older woman stepped in, which seemed familiar. Her stern look and cold gaze gave him a shiver. She stepped at the table and sat down on the opposite of him.

"Apologies for my late appearance." she fetched herself a cup of tea. Her cup was decorated with gold which simmered in the light. But behind that shimmer he didn't miss the side eye she gave him. "I wasn't expecting you following an invite."

"What is that supposed to mean?" who did this woman think she was? He was still Satoru Gojo. And normally people respected him for that.

She took a long sip and somehow that made him shut up. She placed her cup carefully on the table and smiled at him. But something about that smile made him uneasy. "You haven't touched your tea, have you Mr. Gojo?"

"No, I haven't." he glanced at his untouched cup. It wasn't as fancy as hers.

"Is the cup offending you?" she seemed to have followed his glance. "If it is, my apologies but in one of our last meetings with the Gojo Clan one of our family cups has been destroyed. Forgive me for being hesitant to give one to the likes of you again."

Oh, this woman knew how to piss someone of. "In one of the last meetings with the Gojo Clan? I can't remember such a meeting."

At that she smiled fully while her eyes somehow became more icy. "You can't, can't you?"

Something wasn't adding up. Satoru had to be at every meeting his Clan had. He was the head of the Clan for a reason. Did he skip a meeting? But then he had to catch up the meeting. So what was he forgetting?

He felt her gaze on him as he tried to remember any solution to this. She was smiling as she watched him frown.

"The meetings with the Gojo Clan were rather a  success, you know? I had hoped to strengthen the relationship of our Clans." she took another sip. "Well, it is still left to be desired."

"I'm sorry," he didn't want to dance around the question any longer. This woman was obviously looking down on him right now and he couldn't stand it. And even though he couldn't place a name to the face, it seemed so strangely familiar. "But have we met before?"

She placed her cup on the table with force. "Well, we did see each other on a rather big occasion, but I am not mad at you for forgetting me."

Something in the room shifted as she stood up and opened the door again. "Shihiro? Our guest hasn't touched his tea. Could you bring another cup and fresh tea, please?"

He heard a muffled voice agreeing and steps running away from the room. "I really don't need any tea."

She sat down again carefully while making sure not to knock something over. "But it is our duty and our sign for hospitality! I insist."

And just like that the tea inside his cup was warm again. His gut was killing him, but under her gaze he did take a small sip out of the cup of tea.

It tasted... Bitter.

"Well, you are probably wondering why I have called you here." she looked slightly satisfied. And for the first time he seemed to remember this woman.

She was the one who gave him that icy look at his wedding. She was the one sawing him leave. The one who tsked at his doing and only raised an eyebrow as he saw her.

"I wanted to talk with my son in law about his wife and their marriage."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"Lovely weather, isn't it?"

She was right. The sun was shining and the wind was not too strong. While sitting here on the balcony, you had an amazing view of the garden from above.

"Yeah it is." The tea was a bit warmer and sweeter than the tea you knew and normally drank. You liked it.

Ayaka had talked with the cooks in the kitchen, you didn't know about what but you heard much laughter. Their voices seemed so much louder than before, the whole estate so much more lively with her here.

"I always spent my time in the garden and kitchen when I lived here, you know?" she sighed dreamily. "Especially with that weather."

Her posture was screaming authority. Elegance and experience. However her arms weren't tense, they seemed like they were open.

"Do you like it here?"

There it was. You were ready for this question, ready to calm all her possible worries.

"I do. I'm glad I was so lucky to marry Sat-"

She chuckled and shook her head. "That's not what I meant. Do you like it here?"

She seemed amused at your dumbfounded face. You watched as she took another sip. You looked at the beautiful garden which had so many flowers you adored every day. Hina, who was bringing another teapot with fresh tea.

"I do." carefully, you took your teacup. "It's calming here."

She was watching you as you took another sip. Her small smile never leaving. She leaned a bit forward, her arms bow crossed but somehow still seemed open.

"But.." you placed the teacup on the table. "It's also too calm sometimes."

Hesitant you looked at the older woman sitting in front of you. "Do you know what I mean?"

A pleasant breeze surprised you, the teacups shaking a bit. Ayaka leaned now slowly back again, in her hand her teacup.

"When Satoru was little.." her eyes were locked on her tea. "He always wanted to go outside. He didn't like the mansion, the kitchen or the garden. After he was born I was always kept moving."

She sighed and closed her eyes. She looked like one of these stone statures which were built to admire.

"I didn't want to have it any other way."

There was a silence which followed her words, embracing you and calming your senses.

"I still love to tend the garden and chat in the kitchen. But something inside me was really devastated when my little boy started to leave me alone."

There was something inside her voice. Something that made you feel with her.

"Do you like him?"

You couldn't help but grip your teacup stronger. "He is my husband."

She opened her eyes again, looking at you with such tenderness. "He is."

Your mouth seemed so dry. You sipped on the teacup again hoping it would also give you words to use. But it didn't.

"My marriage was also arranged, you know?" she slightly tilted her head. "The Gojo Clan was trying for decades to get another six eyes and infinity user. That's why my husband and I married."

She fetched herself fresh tea and tried to cool it down. "Our wedding was big. The honeymoon successful and we got the perfect child. Well in the book." she chuckled a bit. "But I never liked my husband."

"He was my acquaintance, nothing more."

She filled your cup too, watching you and waiting for you to answer.

"You were right." you took your teacup again, a small smile stole itself onto your face. "In our first meeting."

She smiled and laughed quietly.

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

"I wasn't informed that my mother in law wanted to speak to me." Satoru never felt so tense before. His hands gripping at each other for dear life. "I was being told that just someone wanted a meeting."

"Yeah, after all I wasn't sure you would even show up." this woman seemed so smug just by simply taking a sip, it drove him mad.

That was your mother.

Oh, he wanted to say so much to her. He had read what this woman had written to you. He had seen how you had sobbed in your sleep and whispered her name. Begging her to listen and stop.

But he didn't want her to go after you for anything he said. You still seemed to be so reliable on your mother.

"What do you want?" he tried to sound as polite as possible, he really did but there was just something that made him see red when he looked at her. Made him see your exhausted face.

She placed her teacup on the table again, her face now with a frown. "Well, my dear son in law," she straightened her position. "It has come to my understanding that you have still not consumed with your wife."

His mouth dried out by the second her words left hers. He couldn't believe how she could just sit there and say-

"Do you feel disgusted by her?"

And mean it unironically.

He couldn't move, just stare at this woman before him. He gripped his teacup realizing his tea was cold again, since he hadn't touched it since his first sip.

She shook her head, her face now looking at him disapproving. "Even if you did, there are solutions for it. I know my daughter isn't the brightest diamond in the jewelry box, but she knows that she should fulfill her duties as your wife."

She took another sip. "There are... Ways to make you feel more attracted to her."

"Stop talking." his teeth had started to grit.

She tsked at him. "I'm just suggesting ways to make this arrangement work. As her mother that is my duty."

"I don't care." he shook his head. "I don't care that you are her mother."

There was no politeness left in his voice. He couldn't bring himself for even a little bit.

"I forbid you from talking about my wife like that."

Her body stiffened, just slightly but enough for him to catch it. She inspected him, her look now cautious. "How dare you-"

She broke off. Her eyes lit up from realization. And then she smiled that eerily smile again.

"I see." she chuckled. A shiver went down his spine. "Does she not want to consume?"

"If so there is the same solution and I could talk with her." she took another loud sip. Her body now completely relaxed as if she wasn't talking about...

"Are you..." he couldn't believe this woman. "Are you seriously suggesting to drug my wife?"

She stared at him for a couple of seconds as if she was taken back by his reaction. Then she smiled again. "She would understand, I'm sure. Anything for the heir."

He stood up. This room, this floor felt like it was burning. No, like he was burning. His infinity unsteady as he was slightly shaking.

"The 'heir' doesn't matter to you. Whatever we are doing doesn't matter to you." he tried to remain a calm voice. "You can drink this bitter tea for the rest of your life for all I care. But don't talk about my wife as if she is just a tool."

She looked up at him, her smile now falling at his words. "I am trying to make this arrangement work, for my daughter-"

"Well, you don't talk about her as if she was your daughter." a scoff left his lips. "Who would suggest drugging their own daughter?"

She stood up. Her eyes now wide and staring at him while her lips were a thin line. "You don't know what a wife has to sacrifice, boy."

"What a mother has to sacrifice."

This woman before him was shaking. But not because of fear he knew that. He just couldn't understand how she was ticking, how a human would say such things.

"Shikabane?" a male voice interrupted the cold atmosphere in the room. The call wasn't loud but still very demanding.

"Coming!" his mother in law called back, her tense shoulders now falling.

She looked at him with many emotions, he could see it in her eyes. But one stuck out. Envy.

"Get out of my house, Satoru Gojo."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

It was later than usual.

You didn't remember much, since you fell asleep on the couch in the living room shortly after Ayaka left.

She was a nice lady. The conversation with her lasted long into the afternoon, maybe even a bit into the evening. She suggested to come often for a cup of tea and you agreed.

But only if you were informed a couple of days prior.

It was much later than usual. You had slept two to three hours since she left and the kitchen was already closed.

You should go into your room and rest. But you didn't. Because you still wanted to see him.

Your legs were heavy but you still got up and made your way into the garden.

It was cold since it was probably almost night. But it was also refreshing. And under the moonlight the flowers shone in a new kind of way.

Yesterday you wouldn't have sat down on the ground next to these flowers, since you were always told that wasn't how a lady should behave. But today it felt like breathing to just sit down and admire those blooming stars up close.

A breeze made you shiver but it somehow also felt good. Alive.

You looked around, the plants around you dancing in the wind.

Till your gaze fell on him.

He was standing at the door. Leaning on the doorframe while his look remained on you. His arms crossed and a small smile on his lips.

"Are you not cold?" He had that warm look which made you smile back at him.

"I am." You stood up again, making your way towards him. "But I am also really warm."

He shook his head with resignation but still a smile. "Sometimes I can't believe how you... Endure so much."

As you stood before him and caught that uncertainty in his eyes, you thought that maybe this wasn't about coldness.

"Satoru are you okay?"

His smile got a bit smaller. His normally so tall and strong frame seemed out of glass. You were scared to come any closer.

And then he embraced you.

His strong arms pulling you gently towards him and holding onto you for dear life. His chest to your face, you could hear his heartbeat. You put your arms around his warm frame too.

You didn't know what was bothering him and you felt like right now wasn't the moment to ask him. Regardless you were sure to comfort him.

For all he was still your Husband. Your Satoru.

"I am now."

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

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[foone]

Look if there's one thing, just one thing, that I wish everyone understood about archiving, it's this:

We can always decide later that we don't need something we archived.

Like, if we archive a website that's full of THE WORST STUFF, like it turns out it's borderline illegal bot-made spam art, we can delete it. Gone.

We can also chose not to curate. You can make a list of the 100 Best Fanfic and just quietly not link to or mention the 20,000 RPFs of bigoted youtubers eating each other. No problem!

We can also make things not publicly available. This happens surprisingly often: like, sometimes there'll be a YouTube channel of alt-right bigotry that gets taken down by YouTube, but someone gives a copy to the internet archive, and they don't make it publicly available. Because it might be useful for researchers, and eventually historians, it's kept. But putting it online for everyone to see? That's just be propaganda for their bigotry. So it's hidden, for now. You can ask to see it, but you need a reason.

And we can say all these things, we can chose to delete it later, we can not curate it, we can hide it from public view... But we only have these options BECAUSE we archived it.

If we didn't archive it, we have no options. It is gone. I'm focusing on the negative here, but think about the positive side:

What if it turns out something we thought was junk turns out to be amazing new art?

What if something we thought of as pointless and not worth curating turns out to be influential?

What if something turns out to be of vital historical importance, the key that is used to solve a great mystery, the Rosetta stone for an era?

All of those things are great... If we archived it when we could.

Because this is an asymmetric problem:

If we archived it and it turns out it's not useful, we can delete.

If we didn't archive it and it turns out it is useful, OOPS!

You can't unlose something that's been lost. It's gone. This is a one way trip, it's already fallen off the cliff. Your only hope is that you're wrong about it being lost, and there is actually still a copy somewhere. If it's truly lost, your only option is to build a time machine.

And this has happened! There are things lost, so many of them that we know of, and many more we don't know of. There are BOOKS OF THE BIBLE referenced in the canon that simply do not exist anymore. Like, Paul says to go read his letter to the Laodiceans, and what did that letter say? We don't know. It's gone.

The most celebrated playwright in the English tradition has plays that are just gone. You want to perform or watch Love's Labours Won? TOO FUCKING BAD.

Want to watch Lon Cheyney's London After Midnight, a mystery-horror silent film from 1927? TOO BAD. The MGM vault burnt down in 1965 and the last known copy went up in smoke.

If something still exists, if it still is kept somewhere, there is always an opportunity to decide if it's worthy of being remembered. It can still be recognized for its merits, for its impact, for its importance, or just what it says about the time and culture and people who made it, and what they believed and thought and did. It can still be a useful part of history, even if we decide it's a horrible thing, a bigoted mess, a terrible piece of art. We have the opportunity to do all that.

If it's lost... We are out of options. All we can do is research it from how it affected other things. There's a lot of great books and plays and films and shows that we only know of because other contemporary sources talked about them so much. We're trying to figure out what it was and what it did, from tracing the shadow it cast on the rest of culture.

This is why archivists get anxious whenever people say "this thing is bad and should not be preserved". Because, yeah, maybe they're right. Maybe we'll look back and decide "yeah, that is worthless and we shouldn't waste the hard drive or warehouse space on it".

But if they're wrong, and we listen to them, and don't archive... We don't get a second chance at this. And archivists have been bitten too many times by talk of "we don't need copies, the original studio has the masters!" (it burnt down), or "this isn't worth preserving, it's just some damn silly fad" (the fad turned out to be the first steps of a cultural revolution), or "this media is degenerate/illegal/immoral" (it turns out those saying that were bigots and history doesn't agree with their assessment).

So we archive what we can. We can always decide later if it doesn't need preserving. And being a responsible archivist often means preserving things but not making them publicly available, or being selective in what you archive (I back up a lot of old computer hard drives. Often they have personal photos and emails and banking information! That doesn't get saved).

But it's not really a good idea to be making quality or moral judgements of what you archive. Because maybe you're right, maybe a decade or two later you'll decide this didn't need to be saved. And you'll have the freedom to make that choice. But if you didn't archive it, and decide a decade later you were wrong... It's just gone now. You failed.

Because at the end of the day I'd rather look at an archive and see it includes 10,000 things I think are worthless trash, than look at an archive of on the "best things" and know that there are some things that simply cannot be included. Maybe they were better, but can't be considered as one of the best... Because they're just gone. No one has read them, no one has been able to read them.

We have a long history of losing things. The least we can do going forward is to try and avoid losing more. And leave it up to history to decide if what we saved was worth it.

My dream is for a future where critics can look at stuff made in the present and go "all of this was shit. Useless, badly made, bigoted, horrible. Don't waste your time on it!"

Because that's infinitely better than the future where all they can do is go "we don't know of this was any good... It was probably important? We just don't know. It's gone. And it's never coming back"

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 3.

Prev Next

Jason remember the day she was born. He hadn't been Robin for very long, a few months maybe. One day, he had gone to school and came back to a baby girl, a somber Bruce, an exhausted Alfred, and the rare sight of Dick Grayson. Information came in a blur over the next week as the manor changed to accommodate an infant. She was Bruce's biological daughter. Her mother had been his secretary at Wayne Enterprises and had died during childbirth. Eventually at the will reading, the girl was given her mother's diary and her name (First and Middle Name) Wayne.

As Robin, that little twerp had him wrapped around her finger. As soon as she babbled her first word with those tiny graby hand, he was her's. "Jaja."

Him, Bruce, and Alfred had taken turn looking after her. Jason remember teaching her how to read. Holding her in his arms as they both sounded out words. The old copy of Grimms Fairy Tales being her favorite book to read together, "I wanna be like you and read lots of stories."

That was his last memory with her as Robin. He died two weeks later and took her happy childhood with him to the grave. Dick and Barbara had explained that after his death Bruce threw himself into work. Alfred while providing for her had become distant. Dick told Jason he couldn't look at the girl without seeing Jason next to her. Barbara admitted she didn't know how to talk to the girl anymore. She couldn't explain why she was in the wheelchair instead of walking. Nobody could explain to her why Jason didn't come home one night and they buried him later.

When Jason came back as the Red Hood, no one explained that either. (Name) was four and still scared to sleep with her closet door open. They were all certain hearing about Jason in that state, the pit madness consuming him would scare her. Plus he had become dangerous.

For some reason instead of being mad at her, he was mad for her. She was dismissed so frequently by the others. Tim seem uncomfortable near her. He later learned that's because she had gotten mad at him for wearing the Robin costume. "That's Jason's not your's." It made him swell with pride, out of everyone she hadn't replaced him.

Yet, when the rage dissipated and he returned to the family he couldn't look at her. He still felt too dangerous. Like he would snap and say or do something that would break her. So he pretended to not hear her. Pointedly ignore the seven-year-old asking him to play, what book he was reading, or can he help with homework. More importantly he ignored the questions he didn't know how to answer. "Where did you go Jay? Did I do something wrong?" Suddenly he couldn't blame Barbara and Dick for avoiding her.

When she was eight, he finally didn't feel as dangerous. The explanation would be messy but he could do it. He just wanted his little sister back. He could finally explain to her what happened.

She wasn't in the manor. Jason had begun to panic. Had she accidentally wonder off the grounds? Or been kidnapped? No, this couldn't happen not when he was finally going to get her back. Alfred walked into the kitchen and when he asked about his sister, he felt his world stop. "Master Bruce took her to see Master Dick before send her off to boarding school."

Just like that he had lost his chance to explain on an August wind. He shouldn't have been surprised really. She was smart enough to ace any entrance exam. Hopefully at this new school she wouldn't be as miserable. People would notice her and love her like he should have. She wouldn't be turned away, ignored, or given false promises like at the manor. So Jason let her go.

Now sitting in this family meeting in the batcave, he really wish he hadn't. One look around the table told him that everyone was thinking something along the same lines. The information Alfred had just revealed boiled his blood. He felt dangerous again, expected this time he didn't care. "You're telling me she never arrived at that boarding school and has been god knows where for the past two years?"

"There were several things that went wrong." Dick ran his hand over his face slouching down in his chair. Jason felt himself shaking with rage. Clearly multiple things had gone wrong if they had lost a literal human being for two years.

"First there was mix up on who was taking her to boarding school. Bruce thought Alfred was taking her because that’s was what was orginially agreed upon so Bruce could visit me in Blüdhaven. However Alfred received a message the day before from 'Bruce' saying that (Name) begged to see me before leaving for school so she was with him. The story went that Bruce would drop her off at the airport and a school attendant would pick her up. Bruce never actually sent those messages." Dick showed phone logs on the batcomputer's screen. Alfred did receive those messages but the logs didn't show Bruce sending them.

Tim leaned forward, "Okay but when she didn't show up Bruce or Alfred should have been notified."

The screen shifted showing a school file for (Name). Barbara took over explaining this time. "The school did notify someone but it wasn't Bruce or Alfred." She held up a paper file and passed it around, "this a copy of the admission paper Alfred sent to the academy. The batcomputer is showing what the school had on file for her. The mailing address and phone numbers are wrong. We have reason to suspect that someone changed them to keep her disappearance unnoticed for longer."

Steph shook her head, "Okay so that's why the school didn't alert us but what about the accountant. Looking at these papers her tuition was $95000 a year. That's almost 8,000 a month. If she wasn't attending the school, they wouldn't have accepted the tuition payments. Or her allowance, she was spending it right?"

"The payments were still being made." Alfred spoke this time. Jason growled lowly. Whatever the accountant was doing, be it embezzlement or fraud it had kept his sister in a dangerous spot for two years. The fucker was going to pay for that, most likely in blood. "As of current we are uncertain where the funds disappeared. Whether someone in the school or the accountant himself has taken them."

"I placed a tracker on the next payment so we can follow it." Barbara offered.

Jason stood and turned for his bike. He needed to do something other than sit there. The answer was not going to walk into cave and drop at their feet. Dick got out of his seat, hurrying to grab Jason's shoulder, "where are you going?"

"To interrogate that piece of shit accountant." Jason shoved Dick out of the way. Dick began to get ready to say something but paused. They turned to see Duke run into the room holding his helmet and utility belt.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I took (Name) to the mall and lost track of time." Jason froze at her name. Going to the mall was a normal thing to be doing. If she was acting normal than maybe he still had a chance. Just as he was about to ask how she was Duke continued speaking, "Oh Alfred, I was looking for you. (Name) said her card was stolen by someone at that boarding school she went to and she needed you to call the bank to cancel it."

Tension rippled in the room. Jason felt his lip twitch behind his helmet. "What?"

Duke froze looking to the table for help. Than the computer screen showing all the evidence. Steph gave him a nervous half smile, "You're going want to seat down for this."

Ra's Al Ghul stared at the surveillance images his daughter had set before him. The girl was young and in the still shots appeared to be relatively weak. Yet he could see what his daughter was talking about. Her potential was evident in that she was partially obscure in all but one picture. In the picture she wasn't obscured in, she instead blended in with the crowd of people. Just a girl walking down the street.

"There's also these two videos, Father." Talia held a tablet out to him. The first video was loaded waiting for him to press play. It showed one armed pursuer chasing the girl from one alleyway to another. In a few seconds he watched as she spun in a circle while still running. The pursuer stumbled, clutched at his throat, before falling to the ground. The girl was down the alleyway before the body had hit the pavement.

He raised an eyebrow. Her form in those few seconds could use work but the framework was there. Especially since she didn't stumble or hesitate before throwing her weapon. Potential indeed.

The second video showed her running off screen. She had a wound to her face and another weeping blood from her stomach. The girl was stumbling and grabbing walls for support. She remained off screen for eleven seconds before reappearing. Both of her wounds were gone. Her movements had returned to normal, not even a slight limp. She turned to the camera and threw a misshapen bullet at it, causing the lens to crack.

Ra's watched that video again. There was no jump in time stamp or clipping of the video. He looked to his daughter. She smiled slyly at him, "She appears to be a meta human with an enhanced healing ability. I've seen it in person. Imagine the fighter she could be with that kind of gift. Plus she has the makings, no hesitation, doesn't flinch at pain, and she already knows some kind of stealth."

He considered her words carefully. All good qualities for an assassin. Qualities they typically had to train into their pupils but she already had them. Ra's looked to the paused video again. It was showing her face glaring at the camera. He froze.

Ra's Al Ghul knew that look. He had seen it before over 600 years ago. It had belong to a different girl back than. One so powerful and feared the Spanish had sent an army just to ensure she burned. A woman who now rest at the bottom of a special Lazarus Pit. He had always wonder what became of her gifts. "What was this girl's name again?"

"(Name) Wayne."

"A Wayne? Perhaps she is worth our time."

You were stuck somewhere between screaming and slamming your head into a wall. Once you and Duke had gotten home, he had helped you carry your bags to your room before leaving. That was fine by you, you needed time to think through your plan. Yet as you worked on that you were met with more questions and more problems.

Mainly, School. With the lie being in that you were attending boarding school, you were expected to be educated. Yet the experiments had refused to provide you with any learning matter.

Yes a part of that was probably, okay 100% your fault. Though you fully admit when you stole that pencil and threw it at that one guy, you didn't expect to hit him in the eye. Attempting to use it to remove his eye once you realize it was stuck there... you plead the fifth.

The real issue was that you were expected to be at or around a 4th grade level. Maybe not so much to those who know about the experiments but to those who didn't know. You needed to play into the boarding school lie until you could weed out who knew.

Second was self defense. You were good at throwing things, scalpels being your weapon of choice to escape. But that was limited in use. Up close your main method of defense was escape by breaking your own bones or hapzardly stabbing their wrist. You couldn't fight without injuring yourself which was always a risk. So far you had gotten lucky in that no one expected your unhinged behavior but you couldn't rely on luck.

This investigation was going to get dangerous and quick. Not being able to fight was a disadvantage. Your head was spinning with all the things you needed to figure out. It was making planning... messy. You had to focus on one thing right now so you could get some clarity.

You read through the messy pages of your notebook. There were three pages of questions, two pages of miscellaneous information, and a page dedicated to things you would need to get or do. The best thing to do was choose one item from all of them that connected in some way. School kept coming to your mind.

On the questions page a particular one stuck out to you. "Was there boarding school tuition being paid?" Underneath it you had written two more questions with lines connecting them to the first. "If so did the money go to the experiments?" Another line pointing to the second question making a little triangle. "Did Bruce know where the money was going?"

That seemed like a good place to start. It would give you solid ground to build your case against him on. You flipped to the information page. Sure you could start by digging around Bruce's office for financial states. That however seemed like a bad idea. It would tip someone off that you were investigating and it was too early for that.

The perfect piece of information jump out to you. They were having issues getting supplies from a Sionis because he wanted more money. Money that Davis wouldn't cough off up. Sionis was more the supplier so he wouldn't be connected to the money but Davis. You needed to find out more about that person to answer your first question.

Finally you turned to your needs page. The biggest thing on there was catching up on your schooling. Even if it didn't directly benefit your investigation being stuck at a second grade reading and math level was not ideal. As a kid you had prided yourself in being oddly intelligent. Connecting dots and lessons before the other kids. If there was one thing you didn't want to lose to the experiments it was your pride. Plus it would give you an excuse to research forensic, medical, and computer sciences. All things that would you help put together the information the scientists let slip around you cause you couldn't understand them.

Now it was planning time. How to accomplish these goals? If Davis was connected to your father than your best option was probably talking to Alfred or Tim. You did mention needing Alfred to turn off the debit card your allowance went into when you were out with Duke. Maybe you could just check in with Alfred, mention needing to get in contact with the family accountant to dispute charges on a stolen card. Maybe let the name Davis slip in the conversation. That would work right?

As for the schooling, you needed a tutor. All your family members were off limits so you would have to find one independent of them. Where did people go to find tutors and learning?

"Looks like I have to make a trip to the library tomorrow."

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[notreallythatlost]

I BLEED THE SAME

➴ annatar/sauron x female!elf!reader

PART ONE

summary: after halbrand returns to eregion, he takes on a new form. and you feel drawn to it as much as to the darkness inside of him.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, angst, unprotected sex, p in v, slight biting, fluff means sauron is in love (can that even be possible??)

word count: 2k

author’s note: this is part 2 of ‘if you bled’. please read it first, before you continue. maybe this one is little bit of a mess but god, love me a soft sauron. 😫 i hope you enjoy it and don’t forget how i much i appreciate your likes and reblogs — it means so much to me. xx

inspired by: this song

THE RINGS OF POWER MASTERLIST

After Halbrand disappeared, he did not return but you often wished, he would.

Sometimes you even believed, that you could see him come around a corner out of a sudden, until you realized it is just one of the other elves.

A few days later, Galadriel and Elrond left to return back to Lindon with the rings. They tried to convince you to come with them, but you knew you didn't belong there anymore. So you stayed in Eregion while you waited for Halbrand to return, just like he promised you.

The weeks went by and with each passing day you lost more hope of seeing him again. And with your hope, his promises also began to vanish.

Until, one day, Mirdania rushes into the great forge and joins Celebrimbor's side. Even though their voices are lowered, you try to understand some of what she is saying to the Lord of Eregion. Then, when she mentions a messenger from the Southlands, the hammer you hold falls from your hands in shock as you take a sharp breath.

This can’t be possible.

All eyes are suddenly on you, but you don’t care, just like you don’t care about the hammer that is still lying on the ground. You grab the skirt of your dress and run, ignoring Celebrimbor's call. Your path leads you out of the forge, into the yard and to the gate.

And there you see him standing. The man you had been waiting for all this time. The man who had finally kept his promise and returned to you.

He has his back to you and you let your gaze slide over it. There is a wound on his right shoulder and your heart instantly clenches in your chest. Wherever he had been, he had been in pain, you can feel it.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Halbrand turns around and your eyes meet. For a moment, time stands still and you see the hint of a smile on his face.

You return it as best you can, but you sense that something is wrong. Not a second later, Mirdania walks past you towards Halbrand. “My lord, I must ask you to leave,” she says and glances over her shoulder at you shortly.

Halbrand turns his gaze to the elf and puts on a charming smile. “Why do you want me to leave? I've only just arrived”, he answers and smiles at Mirdania, making the butterflies in your stomach swirl around and you lower your gaze.

“I'm not asking you to leave, the Lord of Eregion is. He has no interest in negotiating with you,” the elf replies before turning away and walking towards you. Her gaze is on you, then she grabs your wrist and pulls you with her.

“Wait, I-” you begin, but Mirdania interrupts you. “Lord Celebrimbor says we can't trust him. None of us should get involved with him. Not even you.” Although her voice is tense, you can't help but let out a laugh. “You can't be serious. I know who I can get involved with and with whom not,” you try to defend yourself, but she just pulls you further away from him.

“Lady Galadriel says otherwise,” she replies and you freeze. “What does Galadriel have to do with this?” you ask with a slightly raised voice. For a moment Mirdania just looks at you, then she leads you back into the forge and out of Halbrand's reach.

You have no way of returning to Halbrand for the rest of the day. But you know that he is waiting. Even if not just for you. When it starts to rain in the evening and Halbrand is still standing in the yard, waiting, Lord Celebrimbor finally decides to go to him himself.

Some time pass and as he returns with Halbrand close behind him, the forge is completely empty — except you. Both of them are soaked and you are about to ask if you can bring them anything, but Celebrimbor silences you with a wave of his hand. “You have done enough. You can go,” he says, leaving you no chance to protest.

Your gaze falls on Halbrand, who is looking at you with a gentle expression in his eyes. He gives you a slight, barely noticeable nod and you turn away to go to your chamber.

You lie on your bed for a while and stare at the ceiling, your thoughts swirling wildly. There is so much you wanted to know, so many questions and only one person who knows the answers. And you hope that you would get it soon.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because a gentle touch on your face wakes you. It takes a moment until you can think clearly again and you recognize a person sitting on the edge of your bed. You immediately sit up and slide away from the figure.

“Don't be afraid,” his words sound through the darkness and you start to relax. “Halbrand?” you whisper and he nods slowly. “But now, call me Annatar“, his voice is low as he answers making you swallow hard.

Annatar raises his hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch is so familiar that you can't resist any longer and lean into it while you close your eyes slightly.

Suddenly the fire in the fireplace lights up and fills the room with a warm light.

After a few seconds, your gaze finds his and you can't help but examine his new form. He examines you just as intensely, as if he's waiting for a reaction.

But everything you could do is raising your hand and taking one of the blonde strands of his new hair between your fingers. You must have been silent for a little too long, because he puts his fingers around your wrist and looks you intently in the eyes. “You don't seem particularly impressed,” he says with a raised eyebrow, but you shake your head.

“No, it's not that. It's just... it’s new,” you admit, making him smile. “And I thought you were asking me to take on Halbrand's face again,” he rests his other hand on your thigh and you lean a little closer to him.

“Well, even though I think a beard suits you so much better, this face is just as fine,” you say with a smile and look him in his now deep blue eyes. But then you remember that he had been in hurt and in pain not so long ago and let your gaze fall down.

Annatar, who seems to have sensed the sudden change in your expression, frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“Tell me, what happened to you? Why did it take you so long to come back?” you ask, but Annatar just smiles. “Is this your way of telling me that you’ve missed me?” he asks with a hint of amusement and you snort quietly, but can’t help but smile.

Your fingertips glide gently over his cheek, and instead of the stubble you can feel his soft skin there. Even though he looks completely different now, you can feel that it is him.

“You are Sauron,” you suddenly say out loud for the first time before looking him in the eyes again. He returns your gaze, then nods. “But that doesn't seem to bother you,” he says carefully.

“No... even though it should. I should hate you for everything you've done. But I can't. I could never,” you whisper and feel him caressing your thigh with his thumb.

“She tried to convince you not to trust me,” Annatar says suddenly, thoughtful, and now you frown. “Galadriel...,” he adds, sensing your confusion.

You nod and let out a strained laugh. “Of course she did… what do you think? You deceived her. Like all of us. But she still doesn't have the right to decide who I give my heart to,” you say quietly and gasp softly as Annatar's fingers press tightly into the skin of your thigh.

“You should be careful who you give it to. Hearts are incredibly precious,” he whispers, leaning closer to you. You feel his breath brush over your lips and open them slightly, then his mouth is on yours.

Hot and demanding, as if he had been waiting for centuries to kiss you.

You can't help but moan, a mixture of desperation and longing as you bury your hands in his hair. Oh, how you already love these long strands.

His hands find their way to your hips, where he grabs you and pulls you closer to his body. A growl escapes from his lips, causing goosebumps to spread across your skin.

Breathing heavily, he pulls away from you again and presses his forehead against yours. “If we don't stop right now, I don't know how much longer I can hold back,” he says in a rough voice and you tremble. Your hands are still in his hair and you press yourself a little closer against him. “What if I don't want you to hold back?” you breathe against his lips.

And with that you unleash a storm.

Suddenly he is on top of you and presses your back into the mattress. His hands are all over your body, touching, pulling and caressing while you gasp for air.

Seconds later he starts to undress you, his hands touching every little part of your body before you get him out of his garments. They land on the floor just like your dress and he pulls you closer again.

All you can feel is Annatar's skin against yours, his fingertips wandering over your shoulders and his hard cock between your bodies as you straddle his lap.

He touches you as if you could crumble to dust before his eyes at any moment, and no matter how deeply you would like to feel him inside you right now, you can’t help but enjoy the feeling of his closeness and the desire that takes your breath away.

Finally, his hands move under your thighs and you look into his eyes as you position yourself above him. Your gazes are locked as you sink down onto him, but you had to close your eyes. It takes your breath away and you need a moment to get used to his size. Then you start to move and you moan with pleasure. Nothing has ever felt so good.

You press your forehead against his, as you pant heavily with one of your hands buried in his hair, the other in the bedsheets clawing onto them.

“Let me make you my queen,” he blurts out as you continue to move. You both have to groan before you realize what he just said. “What?” you gasp and pause. He takes advantage of this moment, puts his arm around your waist and turns you so that you are lying under him again.

He's still deep inside you and he moves his hips briefly to make it clear to you. “Become my queen,” he repeats and lowers his head to your breasts. He gently sucks on your nipple, moving slowly as if he's savoring every second of it.

“But I-” you stop and pant as he bites the skin beneath your breasts and look down at him. “Become my wife and I will lay all of Middle Earth at your feet. I will destroy anyone who does not submit to you — to us,” he continues and if you weren't so high on your feelings right now, you would have thought that this must be a joke.

You're just about to say something again when he suddenly speeds up his pace again. He thrusts deep into you, making your eyes roll back in your head. Your breathing gets heavier and your moans get louder until you hear his voice in your ear.

“Let go for me, my queen” Annatar ducks his fingers in your skin as your climax roll over you. You cry into his mouth, burying your fingers in his hair as if he was the only thing you could hold on to.

His breath is still on your ear as he moans softly, finding his own release and you could feel his cock twitching inside of you. Panting heavily, he places a soft kiss on your neck and breathes in your scent. Then he falls onto the sheets next to you and pulls you in his arms.

Lost in your thoughts, you draw small circles on his bare chest until he takes your hand in his, catching your attention. “I meant it. Become my wife and we will heal Middle Earth together,” he whispers and raises his other hand closed in front of your face before opening it.

In his palm lies one of the three elven rings.

For a moment you are too stunned to speak, until you find your voice again.

“Where… did you get it? Galadriel took them all with her,” you whisper and take the ring carefully in between your thumb and index finger.

“Does it matter?” he asks, stroking the back of your free hand with his thumb. “Is that a yes?” he asks, looking down at you expectantly.

You don't know what to say. But you know what your heart is telling you. And even though it was a betrayal of those you love and your entire kind, you know it's the right thing to do.

Because the darkness had called for you for your whole life.

“Yes...” you breathe and raise your gaze to meet his eyes again. There's a smile on Sauron's face as he takes the ring from your hand and gently slides it onto your finger.

“Then take this ring as my promise. I will give you the world and bring every being to its knees so that they will worship my queen.” With that, he leans forward and kisses the silver ring on your finger. And while you watch him, you know that one thing is certain.

This is all you've ever wanted.

And he is all you ever desired.

2024 notreallythatlost