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lovedrunkheadcanons · 11 months ago

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Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

Quotes from JJK chapters are not mine.

RATED M

Sister Edith warned her the day she arrived at St. Horatia that The Sight was an unpredictable sort; It bends what nature should not permit; What magic alone cannot teach. “Memory is the foundation of being, mon cherie,” she would say. “The anvil from which our reasoning is forged. Without it, we are nothing.” Perhaps that’s true.

Hannah could not explain how she knew these to be Satoru’s memories - or rather - Satoru’s memories from the perspective of a passerby. Some things you just know for certain.

Blinking, her eyes adjusted to the gloom. This was not her bedroom, and Satoru was not asleep beside her. She began looking around the place and discovered she was still home; the genkan with the Gojo family tree, painted by the great Jakuchū himself, big enough it canvassed the entire wall with songbirds and flowers. But she startled at the sensation of a woman walking directly through her like a figment of imagination, followed closely by two others.

“Hurry, this way,” the leader said. “They’ll be in the reception hall.”

The three women made a right turn and bounded towards their destination like foxes on a hare. Hannah stood bewildered. She had never seen those people before. How had they not bumped into her? She was standing right there.

The little wife checked herself up and down, moving her ligaments, placing her hand on her chest to feel it was beating. She wasn’t cold. She wasn’t hot. Her feet did not sink to the ground.

The nuns warned her of this too; The memory must be experienced till its conclusion. You must stay the course.

“Well.” Hannah gulped. “When in Rome.”

Good thing she knew her way around. However many years into the past, the rooms and hallways had not changed. She walked down the hall for a spell or two before passing the small corridor which led inside the living room. Not the reception hall, so she continued onwards till she passed the English dining room, and then the parlor, then the long L shaped engawa, passing fine storage cabinets, hand painted screens, and a whole plethora of ancient artifacts and treasures. Whenever Hannah walked by a mirror her reflection did not show.

She noticed a lot more people mulling about the house, mostly maids carrying water pitchers and cleaning supplies to and fro, stopping every so often to whisper excitedly in another’s ear. Hannah couldn’t catch their game of telephone, but something was definitely afoot.

She arrived just outside the reception hall. A convalescence of servants surrounded the entrance like hungry news reporters, listening through a slivered crack in the door. None of them made a peep, their eyes fixated on the people conversing in the formal room.

“Abandoned? By who?…”

“Precious little thing…”

“…400 years.”

Not wanting to barge an entry, Hannah thought of staying put with the house staff, but then remembered where she was and felt almost silly for thinking it. She sojourned on, walking through the servants and the door and into the grand reception hall with no pushback.

Her eyes settled on a huddle of seven women, including the three she encountered earlier, all of them dressed in elegant kimonos and fabrics. Now given a better look, none of them seemed a day over sixty, greying strands and scarecrow wrinkles. Whispering in concealed voices, they stood centered around a woman cradling a bundle of blankets.

Hannah stepped closer. Her eyes widened when she saw the small tuft of snow white hair. Tiny nose and tiny hands.

A baby, she marveled. And by the looks of it, not just any baby.

Hannah felt her lips tug into a smile. So this is where you were hiding, you sweet sod. Her husband was sound asleep in his swaddle of blankets, sucking on his tongue, barely a few hours old.

Unfortunately, not everyone was delighted by the prospect.

“Satsuma, that drunken dog,” cursed the woman holding the newborn. “After I told him to be careful. This is the last straw.”

“But is what they say true, Isako-chan?” said the woman nearest. “Does he really possess the…” She lowered the blankets from the sleeping child’s face, but before she could lift his tiny lids open, the woman named Isako rose from her seat and turned him away.

“Bolster our security and fetch a servant to alert Master Tengen at once,” she ordered, cradling the sleeping infant, her prognosis grim. “We must stay vigilant. The Star Plasma Vessel cannot be far behind.”

Three years old. Five years old. Eight and ten. The memories Hannah glimpsed were not linear.

In one instance, the boy would be reading Chinese letters on a page, symbols he could not understand, and speaking them aloud in front of his tutors; sounds they told him to say. Most of it Confucian literature, supplemented with essays relaying the art of classical warfare like Tzūzoku sangokushi and San Lüeh. He seemed to be doing well, however, Hannah held her breath whenever a word was repeated wrongly and his palm would be met with the stinging end of a bamboo rod. Although, he never once shed a tear and would start over from the beginning again, moving on to algebra, and biology, and a few plucks on the shō. His teachers would then instruct him how to compose poetry and practice calligraphy and Hannah questioned whether any of these skills were necessary for a child to master, impressive as they were.

Not unlike her own childhood when she’d been forced to wake at the crack of dawn and feed the horses, the chickens, then milk the cows, and de-muck the barn stalls if needed. Then attend Mass. Go to Medieval History. Change clothes. Pray. Weed the vegetable garden. Go to Geometry. Pray some more. Scrub the floorboards. Hang dry the laundry. Do it all over again the next day. Childhood was a myth.

For him too, it seemed, she thought.

The boy was not given the smallest relaxation. During his afternoons, he would take up kendo and various other mixed martial arts, as well as learning to cast jujutsu. For Hannah, watching from the sidelines was like watching a cotton seed fight the wind. While the boy was tall and sturdy for his age, around seven or eight, he was by no means strong enough to take on a person thrice his size. He was shown no mercy. “You have poor form!” they would bark. “When he was your age, your father could take down two grown men.” This was a lie of course, but she saw something ignite in the boy at being talked down to, an all consuming fire. Every time he was knocked to the floor, bruised and hurting, he’d wipe the sweat off his chin with a grimace and stand back on his feet. Anger, Hannah thought. So much pent up anger.

This would be met with rebellion. By age nine, he stood 4’11 and could creep out of the house without getting caught. These excursions were beyond risky. There existed many who would pay a stiff price for the Six Eyes wielder’s head. When Hannah ventured with him on these clandestine escapades, she would be astounded at how cavalier he was; plotting his escape, walking alone to the bus stop, boarding said bus, then hopping on a random train that would segway them into Tokyo.

They’d walk around the city for hours, dawdling nowhere in particular, strutting about the streets venturing for candy shops and gaming stores; stereotypical boyhood pursuits.

If he was lucky, which he often was, he’d be back home before dawn. If he wasn’t, there'd be no supper for a week, possibly a month.

Still, he was spoiled. Every fortnight, the boy would be subjected to his elderly aunties, cooing and smothering him, pinching his chubby cheeks raw till they turned red. “Toru-kun has been a good boy, hasn’t he?” He had not, objectively speaking, been a good boy, but didn’t want to pass up a cookie when offered. Most of these relatives would be cremated before his eleventh birthday. He wouldn’t mourn them.

Yet for all his prodigious achievements, vast intellect, and tiny seeds of rebellion, Hannah could tell the boy suffered from loneliness. Loneliness. It draped over him like a heavy curtain, obstructing him from peering out into a happier, brighter world. Imperial princes had more freedom than he.

“You shouldn’t be so rough with them.” Hannah knelt on the floor, observing the boy aggressively assemble the legos together, a legion of abandoned toys piled in the corner. “They might break.”

Socializing was a struggle. The other children who visited for play dates sensed something wasn’t right about him, something abnormal; his albino white hair and alien blue eyes. They tried being nice with kind words and toys, but he knew what they were really thinking. He saw it in their stares. They only said those things because their parents told them to. None of them wanted to be his friend. Such sentiments added to the isolation he already harbored being surrounded by adults and strangers his whole life, and rather than cry or internalize it, the boy dealt with his loneliness through violence.

A busted lip for the boy who looked at him funny. A light shove in the pond to the girl who laughed at his hair. Jeers and taunts. He once slipped a small frog down a Kamo girl’s shirt and rolled in howling laughter as she scampered across the room like a decapitated chicken, squealing and crying for her mommy. Made no difference how prominent the children were or what family they hailed from. If they were cruel, he’d be cruel back; an eye for an eye. That’s the quintessential lesson the world taught him.

“Oh, Satoru,” Hannah sighed, crouching in front of the boy after another failed play date, alone again with his legos. Silent tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t hear her. Out of sympathy she lifted a lone hand to cradle his cheek. It coursed through him like mist. “My darling.”

Makoto was his only true companion. He was a royal pain to the other servants, spitting and yelling at them, but never her. It took Hannah a full minute to take in the future housekeeper, then a humble nanny to the Six Eyes wielder. She knew when he was having a good or bad day. Between breaks in his studies and spar sessions, she would sneak wrapped pieces of candy to the boy, shooting him a wink as she plopped it in his palm. He would grin and stuff the candy inside his mouth before anyone saw. Favoritism could’ve gotten the nanny sacked. Her break in protocol showed her tenacity, and perhaps her (not so) hidden affection for the young master.

Hannah would admit, it was quite entertaining watching the woman sprint down the halls to try and apprehend the boy, his little athletic body covered only by a foam of bubbles. Apparently, he took exception with bath time, leaving Makoto to go on a wild goose chase. The marathon was probably the most excitement he had that day. He laughed and laughed and laughed. You’d hardly believe this was the same boy who angrily punched two adult molars out of another kid.

However, much of the time the boy was confined to his bed. His brain was still developing as were the Six Eyes. Like growing bones, the older he got, the more excruciating the migraines. In due time, their technique would activate and there’d be no going back. Some days he could not find the strength to get up.

“I hate them, Koto-chan.”

“No, you mustn’t say such things, sir.”

“But I do. I wish they were gone.”

The beloved nanny pressed a damp cloth to his forehead. “It’ll be alright, sir. Now, shhh, get some rest.”

The boy wearily closed his eyes and Makoto departed. Hannah cozied herself beside him, his small chest breathing in and out. She grinned at watching his lids flicker. “What are you dreaming of?” she whispered, sweeping his hair gently to one side. It didn’t work of course. Like before, her hand disappeared through him.

The light evanesced.

The next memories Hannah saw were of teenagehood, Satoru roughly fifteen or sixteen years old, unscrewing the bolts of a school chair with a wrench. His Jujutsu High uniform looked non-dissimilar to the one he presently wore, darkened round frames shrouding his eyes.

Upon disassembling their bolts, Satoru would set the chairs upright like normal. One poor decision later and, whump, your posterior would be on the floor. Hannah supposed this was his idea of a prank.

“Sorry, is this Room 44B?”

Satoru’s eyes snapped up to inspect the newcomer, taking note of his overgrown raven bangs, inflated bontan pants, and two fingered shoes that looked more to him like socks.

Perhaps a tad nervous, the newcomer scrupulously re-examined the paper he was holding.

“Odd, the map they gave me says…” But he shook his head mid-sentence and offered out his hand. “You know what, forget it. My name is Geto. Geto Suguru.”

The Six Eyes wielder glanced at the hand, but did not take it, and went back to disassembling the chair, answering only after a pause long enough to make the newcomer think he’d been ignored. “Gojo.”

Geto awkwardly cleared his throat and fidgeted. “I assume you’re a first year then?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“What is it you’re doing?

Satoru successfully unmoored another screw and glared. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Geto cast a critical eye. “Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Probably.” Satoru switched hands, wrenching another bolt free, further showcasing his disinterest. “So, what is it you do again, Yamapi-san?”

“Yamapi?” Apparently, Geto did not take kindly to the comparison. “What do you mean?”

Satoru rolled his eyes and sighed. “Your curse technique; the whole reason they locked you up inside this penitentiary. Unless, of course,” his glasses slid past his nose, “you don’t have one.”

Pleasantries gone cold, Geto pursed his lips and stuffed his fists in his pockets. This asshat. “Curse Manipulation.”

Like the twitching of a cat’s ear, the white-haired teen froze and turned from unbolting the chair to the look at the other freshman. “Prove it.”

Geto wordlessly pulled out what Hannah initially thought was a plum from his back pocket, but was actually a strange, blackened orb. He brought it to his mouth and began taking bites, two, three, till none of it remained.

Then an insect-like curse, a Fly Head, materialized out of thin air, the buzz of its sickly translucent wings making Hannah’s spine prickle. It had the body of a mosquito, but the face of a goggle-eyed dogū. Hannah let go a pathetic shriek when Suguru began waving his wrist about, the curse under his complete control, buzzing around and doing summersaults mid-flight, unable to shake off the technique. Like a zombie, Hannah thought. After a short while, the long banged sorcerer felt he’d gotten his message across and with the snap of his fingers the Fly Head became engulfed in a cloud of flames, disintegrating to smoke and ash.

“Woah-oh, freaky,” Satoru whistled and placed his hands behind his head, chortling a laugh. “I take it back then. Guess this year won't be so boring after all.”

Shoko entered through the door not a second later; shortened bobbed hair, mini skirt, and busy sucking on a lollipop. Her expression was one of close-eyed-smile discontent, looking less than pleased about the two idiots she’d been partnered with. She glanced at one, then the other. “I do RCT,” she said, and that was it. There wasn't any need to say more. Hannah hardly recognized the doctor without the heavy dark circles smudging her eyes. She was very pretty.

Their trinity now complete, Satoru’s memories began unfurling once more like the pages of a long forgotten almanac.

Hannah was handed a mental catalog of his many pranks conducted over his years at Jujutsu High; covering stairwells with pine tar; drawing penises on chalkboards; conspiratorially pouring tubes of micro glitter in the air vents (almost caused a fire). There was one incident when Satoru, for whatever reason, thought it a brilliant idea to unleash a hoard of mice inside the main lobby. The mice took umbrage at being ‘mice-napped’ from their homes and it wasn’t abundantly clear who was chasing whom; the petrified rodents, or the reluctant school staff in charge of rounding them up. There was also the enormous banner which hung in the school cafeteria during the newly minted Goodwill Event with the words “Tokyo rules, Kyoto drools. Satoru is the greatest.”

While most of the Six Eyes wielder’s pranks were harmless, others were downright mean. On more than one occasion Kiyotaka would return back from P.E. to discover his uniform shoes strung from the ceiling by their laces. He had to enlist the help of a teacher to get them down. A sticky note depicting a mediocre Gojo chibi would be found on one or both soles.

Or Utahime, who was a mere hair-length away from skinning the Six Eyes wielder alive for “accidentally” snipping one of her braids clean off with a pair of rusty scissors. Steam was practically billowing out her nostrils.

“She’s such a girl,” Satoru snickered. “What is she cryin’ about anyway? It’s not like hair doesn't grow back.”

The red outline of Utahime’s double slap was visible on his cheeks for a solid week following the incident like a sunburn. “It’s senpai, asshole!!” That happened his second year.

A younger Nanami, known to Hannah now as Kento, also wasn’t spared the torment. He’d never forget waking up from a short-lived nap only to stand in front of the bathroom mirror and find a squiggly mustache and monocle edged in permanent marker on his face; his first week at Jujutsu High. Or the shaving gel in his shoes. Or the thousands of multicolored bouncy balls jammed inside his locker and spilling out onto the hallway. He would never call him senpai.

Throughout this myriad of stunts, Hannah would watch with Satoru, who was either directly involved amidst the chaos, or relishing his handiwork from afar like an evil mastermind.

Kento would say he was starved for attention.

Hannah would say it was something else, something attention seeking couldn’t rectify.

He wasn’t without his virtues however; fun being one of the few. When free, Satoru would encourage the small band of jujutsu sorcerers to hang out after school; usually him, Geto, and Shoko. The arcade was a popular joint to unwind and blow off steam. Here, Gojo and Geto were at their most competitive. Hashing it out over Ace Combat was a healthier alternative than coming to physical blows. It gave Hannah time to reflect.

The yin to Satoru’s yang, Suguru was an enigma to Hannah; opposite him in both demeanor and morals. He always wore his overgrown hair in a topknot, bangs styled to the side, handsome. Fairly tall, but stood at least an inch shorter than his albino companion. She liked Suguru a great deal, but couldn’t recall what about him sounded familiar. She had heard his name before. But when? Where? It took a while for the bells to clang …

“Nobody. Just some guy I used to work with...”

Brilliant! Yes, that’s when; the movie night. Contrary to Satoru’s declaration, however, the two appeared quite close; like soldiers stuck in a platoon who didn’t get along, but would die keeping the other alive if necessary. Mates. Brothers. Rivals. Something more. The truth wasn’t hers to disclose, but “just some guy?” wasn’t cutting it.

Nanami would sometimes tag along, as well as another underclassman by the name of Haibara Yū. Hannah took note of how bright his eyes shone, bursting with ferocious passion and enthusiasm for life, like a perpetual ray of sun. A little cheeky, he spoke quick; rambling on about his sister and family like an auctioneer at an art show. It was difficult to catch everything he said. Hannah found herself smiling nonetheless. Why hadn’t they met yet?

Favorite eateries they frequented included raman shops and karaoke bars and various fast food restaurants where everyone was forced to guess how many cheeseburgers Satoru could gorge in one sitting without throwing up. He always added an extra large fry and chocolate shake. Another reason to avoid fast food all together. Hannah craved a salad.

But she enjoyed partaking in their fun adventures, despite the fact they couldn’t see or hear her. These privileges were unbidden to Hannah as a teen, as a child, as an adult. Reliving them with Satoru and his friends - who she now considered her friends - felt precious. She didn’t want to stop hearing the stories they shared, or how difficult exams were, or what they wanted to do after graduation.

The normalcy it brought. Thinking there could have been a life where Hannah had gone to school, and played rounds of Ace Combat, and ate ice cream in the summer with her friends. And then she was given a cruel reminder there was nothing normal about this. About them.

“It’s such a pain looking out for the weak.”

Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko were sitting in a classroom, waiting for Yaga-sensei to show up. Aggravation gnawed on Suguru’s features.

“Jujutsu exists to protect non-sorcerers, Satoru,” he argued. “It’s our job to safeguard the weak and keep the powerful in check.”

“Please,” Satoru snorted. “Don’t act all high and mighty for spouting that garbage. Applying reasoning and responsibility is what weak people do. Being righteous?” He stuck out his tongue as though to gag. “I hate that stuff.”

Suguru heatedly rose from his chair. He’d grown tired of repeating this conversation over and over. How many times would it take for the knucklehead to learn the errors of his ways? “Let’s take this outside,” he challenged, but Satoru arrogantly dismissed him.

“You lonely? Go by yourself.”

Meanwhile Shoko made like a ballerina and gracefully pirouetted from the classroom. Adios, amigos. It was just the two of them.

Now one on one, Suguru activated his technique, an ugly beast from the cursed void, at the same time Satoru transferred his glasses inside his pocket, aiming for a bruising. However, the looming brawl was short-lived.

The door thrusted open to unveil an irritated Mr. Yaga, no more than a regular teacher at the time. Thus, the two teenagers unanimously sat back in their chairs, pretending they weren’t about to pummel the ever-living shit out of each other. Hannah couldn’t say what followed. The memory fizzled out before she could exhale.

Her stomach felt tied into knots. Who was that nihilist mimicking her husband’s voice and face just now? Someone who hated protecting the vulnerable and weak, believing righteousness was bad, even garbage? The Satoru she knew would never say something so…heartless. Would he?

Hannah could spend eternity ruminating the haughty question, but she wasn’t given the chance. The memories came crashing into her awareness like pressing “fast forward” on a tape recording. Her mind could not keep up.

They were brought to her piecemeal; a young school girl gazing up at a fish tank full of humongous whale sharks; an undetectable assassin, his crooked spear gored through the side of her husband’s neck; the lake of blood; A blinding collision of ultraviolet.

“I alone am the Honored One.”

The shock paralyzed her in the moment. Suddenly she felt she couldn’t breathe. The confusion raging inside her head became awash in a myriad of faces and bright light. All she could think about was Satoru, his lifeless corpse lying on the ground, throat slashed, dead eyes flung wide open. She screamed, wanting to go back to him, but no sound came. The assorted memories kept changing, hurling at the speed of light, faster and faster, refusing to slow down and stop until she’d reached either the Elysian Plain or Hell.

The memories were unrelenting.

“Don’t make me say it again. Suguru has — ”

“She’s a political pawn. The higher-ups should’ve never brought her — ”

“Explain yourself!!”

Hannah saw her bathing through a hole in the wall, naked and singing an Irish lullaby of fairies and ancient worlds, unaware Satoru was also there watching, his desire on full display. If he hadn’t already admitted to his lechery, the unabashed stalking would’ve mortified her. But he had told her of this. He had asked for forgiveness. She had granted it.

They kept coming.

“I thought I had set aside such petty pride.”

“We don’t care if you’re scared — ”

“Are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest, or are you — ”

Satoru carried a dead Amanai across the room, her corpse shrouded in a blood-soaked bed sheet. Killed from the stray bullet yet to be extracted from her skull. People clapped in disturbing applause, smiling like they’d done him a service. His eyes drifted listlessly to Suguru.

“Do you want to kill them all?”

“There’s no point in attempting the impossible — ”

“Is that right? Maybe you’re right! You’re soooo right!!!”

This uneasiness.

Deranged. Utterly maddening. A high.

The vision of unmentionable power.

“Any last words?”

The air grew thinner as Hannah grew unsure. She wondered. Was the world spinning, or hurling on its axis in a straight line? Her heart felt it was beating a million miles, booming loudly in her ears. She thought she might faint. Make it stop, she wanted to cry, but there was no getting off this runaway memory train.

Until she was shown one last memory.

An adult Satoru, her Satoru, sitting in a chair, face buried in his hands. They were in the same hospital room he had brought her home from last night, leaving behind that nightmare of claws and shadow.

“This is all my fault. I fucked up,” he mourned. “I led it right to her.”

Shoko’s hand gripped his shoulder. “You didn’t know, Satoru. None of us did.”

“She could’ve died.”

“But she didn’t. She’s still here. You have to hold on to that.”

Satoru removed his hands and turned to see his unconscious wife lying on the hospital bed, hooked to an IV drip, cannula placed under her nose. They’d just finished her blood transfusion not long ago. The deep, claw-like wounds had been healed, yet her complexion remained pale. Hannah would concur. She looked like death. Satoru bowed his head, the image of a man vanquished with no more fight left to give. He was waving his white flag.

“I love her, Shoko.”

Hannah’s heart ceased all proper function.

Perhaps it was his pride talking, or his gross stubbornness which repelled him from speaking his native tongue. Hannah wasn’t sure if Shoko knew English, but judging by the tender emotion reflected in her soft brown eyes, she seemed to understand the weight of those three words well enough. A magnitude which Hannah had yet to feel.

A thousand images rushed to the forefront of her mind; A bouquet of red roses, two initials carved on a tree, spooning swans, St. Valentine, and Cupid’s golden arrow drawn to its bow. How strange to find herself on its receiving end; that pesky, fickle dart.

The feeling was foreign to her. Not love it’s entirety, per say. Hannah had given and received love from many nuns and teachers over the years, though not the kind Satoru had professed.

Since the day she was born, Hannah was told she was spoiled goods. That her worth was predicated upon her half-sorcerer blood, tainted by the man her mother was foolish enough to bed. A girl like her was meant to stay hidden inside the convents. She was not to leave. She was not to marry, or have a penny to her name, yet fate had intervened and destined her in the arms of a man who bestowed her all three. The guilt churned like a mortar, it’s weight crushing her full force.

Every time she’d been powerless to defend herself, knowing no spells or martial arts; the folly of her own human frailty, Satoru had been there to do what she could not. Companionship. Loyalty. Protection. Whatever it was, he had given it to her without ask. Her own contributions came up short by comparison. It embarrassed her then and embarrassed her still. How conceited she’d been. How childish.

“Ignore half of what he says, lass...”

No, she wouldn’t ignore this. She couldn’t. They had reached the long awaited bridge. He had dutifully crossed it, throwing his heart out on the line, waiting, while she remained dithering on the other side like a coward.

Hannah’s wedding ring felt it was searing her finger, spurning the skin. Go on, then, go on. Only one thing left to do.

The hospital room slowly faded like the closing of a finished book, but no matter.

Her resolution was clear.

There was no turning back the pages.

Chapter Contents

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x oc #satoru x oc #gojo takes a wife #romance

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nelson-and-murdock · 5 months ago

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Hi! I wrote this fic. Enjoy!

Building A Nest

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/feZCidU by TheCallOfTheSea Jonathan and Sarah’s love grows and their lives change forever. Words: 6657, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 6 of The Scarecrow and The Songbird Fandoms: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Jonathan Crane, Original Female Character(s), Edward Nygma, Harvey Dent, Oswald Cobblepot, Jervis Tetch, Harleen Quinzel, Original Child Character(s), Waylon Jones Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Pregnancy, Twins, Childbirth, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Pregnant Sex, actually it’s more like making out/groping, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Protective Jonathan Crane, Loving Marriage, Villains can be parents read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/feZCidU

#the scarecrow and the songbird #fanfiction #my writing #dc #comics #jonathan crane #scarecrow #sarah macgrady #my oc tag

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nelson-and-murdock · 3 months ago

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Cover for the playlist to The Scarecrow and The Songbird! Thank you to @rouge-rogues !

#playlist #the scarecrow and the songbird #jonathan crane #scarecrow #sarah macgrady #my oc tag #artists on tumblr #fan art #art #dc #comics #Spotify

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void-botanist · 2 months ago

Note

❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️ ill stop now but know that i will just keep going

My favorite thing is that according to my notifications you asked me nothing at all:

but that's 14 hearts so let's goooooo

From AOM:

1 - Celia and Sid's relationship. Of course Sid's best friend is her brother, Horatio, but they've always been friends. I realized recently that the letters Sid returned to most often would have been Celia's, because she would draw him goofy pictures. She draws him a new one in AOM to replace the ones he lost. And also they're both sluts and she is his guide to Tobarsha cruising and nightlife.

2 - Leon's nicknames! I haven't made use of these yet but he has nicknames for every important person in his life. His wife Edith has the most, because he has at least one for all of her many genders, but he most often calls her Scarecrow or just Ed. Horatio and Celia (his kids) are Sunflower and Lucky Penny, and Avis is Garnet. Sorian started out as Ghost but post-AOM he gets a new nickname, Songbird. Sid will get a nickname when he arrives in AOM (he previously didn't have one because Leon didn't wanna get strongarmed into having to give Sid's parents nicknames).

3 - Sid's parents lmao. I mean they suck, that's the point, they're loosely based on my shitty parents, but their dynamic and their problems are SO crunchy to me. Donovan's self-esteem is in the trash but he very much resents the way Emma treats him as a tool, and Emma desperately wants to be good and important and special but no one wants to give that to her, why is she always a disappointment, and she's making it everyone else's problem.

4 - on a similar note I love how much Avis and Sorian are fucked and it's so complicated and one of the things that hurts the most is all of the little things that they remember about each other. He's been perfecting his gingerbread recipe so it's exactly the way she would love it. She misses the soft way he used to sing around the house, like a cat purring. Even if it all seems tainted now, they were happily married for some 23 years, and that doesn't just vanish.

5 - I made Antony, Avis's best friend, on a whim. At first he was just a name drop of some friend Sorian used to have a crush on, but then I said, he can be more than that. And he is one of the important minor characters in AOM, partly as a setup for the sequel where he plays a much bigger role. But I adore the way he and Avis banter. He knows her too well, and he might be the only person she knows who isn't afraid of being vulnerable with people. But also he just wants to tease her about how she's a dumbass and I think that's so right and good.

6 - how Horatio's just a warm and calculating little weirdo. Everyone loves him. He's such a ray of sunshine, and so genuinely kind. And yet he spends the entire story just like real quick stepping out to do work, because he can't pull himself away from his job, to the point that he will put off his own birthday trip to see his grandparents because, well, he's busy, you know? He'll get there soon. Staying in Sorian and Avis's old house doesn't bother him at all, despite the fact that he feels irrationally guilty for "causing" the end of their marriage. People sometimes think he's straightforward and innocent, but to be honest that just makes it easier for him to lie. Don't even get me started on his kinks--

From Nicea:

7 - Fabian. He is my chew toy. But I also love how since old canon he's evolved from just an asshole to still kind of an asshole, but in a way that's understandable and not just cruel, but also still annoying. He actually gets to have complex relationships with people other than Spinder. He has a best friend now, Darnell, who makes a brief appearance in Nicea, and later he ends up forming something of a duet with Isabel, despite all of his complicated feelings about how he permanently plays second fiddle to her in life. There have been a lot of ripple-out effects from the way he's been determined to have Spinder one way or another. Also he is a UFO believer and I think that's cute.

8 - Martin's leaning. Yes, he leans on stuff too much on the page. But the thing is, if he was a real guy, he'd be doing that constantly. He's six foot something with the physical attitude of a beanstalk. Do you know how many different ways there are to lean on or in a doorway? Martin does.

9 - Spinder and Isabel. It seems almost too obvious to say, since I made Nicea first and foremost so I could have them on the page again. They are The couple to me. In old canon I wrote an entire novel about their romance. It was not a good novel. But I love them that much. In current canon they get to also be highly established friends -> lovers -> romantic partners, which is everything to me. Their chemistry as friends is incredible, and it carries over to everything else. And yet they're both afraid to speak of their romantic feelings! ugh!

10 - Rodney. He's got a lot of fun moments in Nicea, even with things that are not life and death, like being the guy who gives everyone manicures. He's a goth who loves sweaters and knows what he's about, i.e. he has it all. But what he really wants is to be needed. He needs to be the one who makes everything okay. He's not okay if he's not integral. And unfortunately he has made himself integral to Declan, the guy who no longer needs him in the same way once he gets his husband back. I can't wait to explore all that on the page (and have Nicea 2 be significantly about Rodney) but also I'm just so glad Rodney gets to be complex, finally, instead of just being the one sibling who got to skip being Traumatized TM because he was just such a good and pure boy, like in old canon.

11 - they don't even show up on the page in Nicea, but Neb and Oran, Martin's kids (this makes them Cady & Declan's nephews and technically Spinder's great-nephews). They're college-age twins and they're such a delight. They annoy everybody! They do it on purpose! They're always up to shenanigans! They're taking up their parents' magicrafts! They're basically what happens when the annoying brothers from some kids' TV show grow up and refine their methods. Declan is concerned that they're going to think he likes one of them more, even though obviously he does, and they know this.

12 - I feel like I've only scratched the surface of this on the page, but Rodney and Isabel's ride or die siblinghood and the way Spinder is also kind of Rodney's older brother already. Isabel has always been trying to protect Rodney from anything, but this super intensified when their parents got divorced. That was also when Rodney realized that Isabel and their mom obviously needed his protection too, at least on an emotional level, and he became the guy who needs everything to be harmonious, and if that means he has to carry the weight of the world by himself, so be it.

13 - Likewise, Tristan and Gil's relationship. There's still a lot of depth there that I haven't discovered yet, but I love them a lot. They're butch4butch ballroom dancers! They have a wedding scheduled and they're saving up to adopt a kid! Gil is kinda really upset that Tristan is going on this trip to save Cady, because it's dangerous and Tristan might miss her own wedding and isn't she supposed to be pulling back on this line of work, but she's trying not to make a whole thing about it, because she knows she can't stop Tristan and she doesn't want them to part with resentment. And Tristan is so sad about it, but she goes anyway, and regrets going on this trip halfway through, but she still has to see it through.

And! the extended universe of Leon's family:

14 - in old canon, Meredith Murian was sort of a Kim Possible type figure, always involved in some nonsense matter that made more work for her dear friend Horatio of the faery police. I am very pleased that despite all the canon changes (she and Horatio are now adoptive cousins, in fact, and Horatio is of course not a cop) that she is still an action hero type, traveling the galaxy to find appropriate records for the Murian Library & Archives. I've always thought she was really cool and she's still really cool.

Nicea taglist: @kahvilahuhut @kk7-rbs @outpost51 @writernopal @athenswrites

Soravis taglist: @vacantgodling @athenswrites @kk7-rbs

#heart ask game #wip: aom #wip: nicea

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ol-jericho-styx · 5 months ago

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*Jericho hugs his knees, back in his cell after a long day of 'performing'- aka being gawked and stared at, and for an additional fee, even poked.*

*The scarecrow found it easiest to just play along. He did not like the look in his handler's eyes, or the clubs at their sides. He didn't want to get hurt*

*Lady Luck was delighted that her newest little songbird was so good at doing what he was told. She had to thank whoever had broken him in before this.*

*The worst was when Jericho had to go up on stage to sing and perform. He was put into this frilly outfit that was way too small and itched like hell- the scarecrow was so happy to be back in his familiar jacket. And he couldn't even pick the song he could sing, one of his favorite parts of putting on a show...

*He didn't like how the audience looked at him. Usually it felt like his crowds were laughing with him when normally in life it felt like people laughed at him. But these people, who choose to stare at freaks, those they deem lesser than... They were laughing at Jericho. *

*He fiddles with his ring. Jericho's pretty sure the only reason he still has it is because no one's noticed it's real gold yet. He hugs himself closer and begins to hum to himself he had once heard at a jamboree of some kind back home.*

🎶You can't take my charm

You can't take my humor

You can't take my wealth

'Cause it's just a rumor

Nothin' you can take was ever worth keepin'

No, nothin' you can take was ever worth keepin'🎶

*Jericho whispers the lyrics as he falls asleep, curled into the corner of his cage*

#goon at noon asks #edge of midnight #legends of avantris #soliloquy #tw abuse #ooc: song is 'nothing you can take' by Rachel Zegler from Ballad of Songbird and Snakes #lady luck arc

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gaozorous-rex-blog · 8 months ago

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Lmao, you're absolutely right that this would kickstart a cult about him! It'd be hilarious if this ends up making him more powerful due to all of that fervent worshipping of him lol. It'd be even more funny if Danny could bypass his Gramps' limiter on his powers, go ghost, and answer any cries for help he hears in his head, which makes the cult grow even more! And Danny, finally realising he has people worshipping him as a god of mercy/protection, is both flustered and flabbergasted. After being dehumanized most of his life by most of Amity, he just can't comprehend the fact that people are actually joining a cult about him/worshipping him.

Also, another thought on the worshippers.. I bet Grampa Clocky has a hand in this, and thus ends up making sure they get legit worship altars, which leads to several shenanigans on Danny's end. Just, any offering that's set on the altar with the right phrase/activation sequence ends up sending/teleporting the offering to wherever Danny's at, at the time. Can you imagine the most random shit he has to hide suddenly having while at work?? Going out to eat? At school?! On a date with Jason?!? That'd be so funny, omg.. xD You bet Sam & Tuck will tease the hell outta him for it, lol.

DC x DP Prompt

The wail isn't the only thing Danny can do with his voice.

He finds this out when he is hanging out on a date with his new friend soon-to-boyfriend Jason, and the cafe they're in gets fear-gassed.

Jason and everyone else in the cafe start to lose their shit and Danny doesn't know what to do. Most of his powers were locked away because Gramps wanted him to enjoy a normal-ish college life!

On the verge of tears, Danny remembers a time when Ellie was having a nightmare, and he found that singing to her soothed her.

And in a desperate attempt, Danny began to sing.

It was a soft soothing melody, so soft that realistic speaking, no one should have heard it. But the entirety of Gotham did.

In those few moments, the effects of the fear gas disappeared, and whatever anger, fear, helplessness, emptiness, loneliness, whatever negative emotion was being felt at that time dissipated as well.

For once, Gotham air didn't feel so heavy.

And Danny was sure he scored himself a second date.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dead on main #jason todd #danny fenton #Accidental God AU #Soothing Songbird AU #I can imagine Jason calling Danny his pretty lil songbird #even if Danny takes after Jack and grows taller than Jason lmao #Danny is simultaneously touched that he has a cult & annoyed that he has a cult #He can't help but keep his new followers safe though #Batfam actually starts to believe he might really be an avatar or something the longer this mess goes on lmao #Jason ofc plays interference as much as possible but he can only do so much #Scarecrow fucks around and finds out #Which leads to Joker fucking around and finding out soon after #Which ends up elevating Danny to deity status in Gotham LMAO #It doesn't help that Danny accidentally stole the Court of Owls' dead assassin corp from them #Ended up wiping them out too pfffft!#Gotham is much better without the trash ruining everything to the extreme #i love this #this is so interesting

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vanillaarts · 11 months ago

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Two versions of the Avantasia protagonists come together

A written piece I did for @avantasia-protag-au a while ago

Gabriel walked through the park, simply listening to the music of the songbirds in the trees. It seemed to be a peaceful day.

He was so, so wrong.

He kept walking when he heard a cry and a thud, as if someone fell to the ground. Immediately turning to the sound, he rushed over to see what it was, hoping to help.

Arriving, he noticed it was a man. He was clearly thinner than a person naturally should be. That confused him.

“Hey, sir! Are you alright?!” He hurried over to the guy, getting up.

“Yeah… I think I’m okay. That was weird…” The man said, sweeping grass and dirt off of his long black jacket, “Thanks.” He turned around, and Gabriel gasped.

This man had button eyes, just like that terrifying horror movie Scarecrow had showed him. Coralline, was it?

Despite then the blue buttons that replaced his eyes, Gabriel could not take his eyes off if the two stitches in the left side of the man’s mouth. They were very loose didn’t come through on the other side, but they were stitches nonetheless.

“You’re staring.” The man said dryly. Gabriel immediately looked to the ground, uncomfortable.

“S- sorry.”

“Eh it’s okay. I don’t blame ya. You’re not the first either.“

Gabriel looked back up at him, awkward. However, the guy seemed pretty patient with Gabriel’s nervousness.

“I have an odd thing to ask.” The guy said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What is it?”

“Where am I?” The buildings are plain, so it’s not Arcadia at all.”

“You’re in Toront- Wait, did you say ‘Arcadia’?!”

“Yeah..? A city outside Avantasia… great place for musicians-”

“AVANTASIA?!?!” Gabriel yelled, louder than he expected. He covered his mouth.

“You know there?” He asked, quieter this time. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

The man nodded.

“Me and my friends… uhhhhh, could you help me with something?”

“Sure! What is it?”

“Me and three more people came through a portal by accident. Can you help me find them? You can clearly tell I’ve never been here before.”

Gabriel agreed, leading this strange new guy around the area. He felt he could not stop asking questions about the man because he had never met anyone else from that place, aside from himself and Elderane.

~~~

Pretty soon…

“CROW!!!” Called an airy voice from behind the two. They turned as another man flew up and tackled Gabriel’s new friend in a big hug.

Gabriel, despite being surprised by the sudden hug, smiled at seeing them happily reunite. However, the name sounded familiar…

“Your names Crow?”

“My names Scarecrow, but I just go by Crow.” He nodded. Gabriel’s eyes widened.

“Who… who are… what? Who are you guys?!” Gabriel asked, eyes widening at the sight of the new person, who had black magic surrounding them, just like Enty.

The two got up, “I’m Crow. This is Moonglow, or Moon.”

“I- I’m… Gabriel.” Gabriel realized what was going on. These guys were not from this world, but perhaps from another.

Aaron would know what to do.

“Can you guys come with me, please?” Gabriel asked, “I know you’re still looking for your friends but I think I know someone who might be able to help you.”

~~~

The three came up to the house. Gabriel could tell there were people inside, as all the lights were on and he could hear speaking through the door.

He opened the door.

Inside were five people. He knew, of course, Aaron, Scarecrow, and Enty, but there were two more: and they looked awfully similar to the Aaron he knew and- himself?

“Uhhhh… who are these guys..?” Gabriel asked. Crow and Moon pushed by him into the house, immediately talking to each other, glad they were all alright.

Aaron stepped around the four and brought Gabriel to his friends on the other side of the room.

“So, if these guys are telling us the truth, they are from a different universe. They messed with some portal, accidentally activated it, and then they woke up here.” He said.

“They’re just like us!” Enty smiled.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Scarecrow pointed to Crow, the man Gabriel first ran into.

“Well, yes, but-“

“What is he?!” Scarecrow said, loud enough that the other group heard them. They all stopped talking.

Crow turned around, arms crossed.

“What at am I?! I… “ He stopped, “You know… I’d like to fucking know myself.”

“He didn’t mean it like that.” Aaron said.

“I know he didn’t. It’s just- ugh. He did this to me.” He pointed to Scarecrow, “And you know who he is.”

Scarecrow looked down. In whatever world this guy came from, Mephistopheles turned him into what he was somehow.

They stayed silent for a moment.

“Now what?” Gabriel asked.

“First things first, we need our names sorted out. I don’t know if you guys find it hard to call multiple people by the same name, but I’d like to differentiate between you guys.” The second Aaron said, “You can just call be Blackwell.”

“We have different names, do we have to use nicknames too?” Enty asked, raising his hand.

“No, you can keep your own names.” Gabriel said, “You said your name was Moon, correct?” He Looked to the person who looked like Enty.

They nodded.

“I’ll just be Crow for me, if you don’t mind being Scarecrow.” Crow said. Scarecrow shrugged.

“I guess. Sure. This feels stupid. Why are we doing this again?”

“It’s better than having two Aaron’s, two Gabriel’s, and two Scarecrows.” Aaron said. Scarecrow couldn’t argue with that.

“I would rather be called Gabe than Laymann.” The second Gabriel said, fidgeting with the end of his braid. After those things were sorted out, the living room fell silent for a moment. However, it was quickly broken by a loud growling.

“Sorry…” Moon said, covering his stomach, “I’m hungry.”

“You can come with me to the kitchen. I can get you something to eat.” Aaron waved for him to follow. Moon happily came after him, Enty following, happy to have finally met someone like him.

“Do you want to see my books?” Gabriel asked, trying to make the situation less uncomfortable.

“Sure!” Gabe said, laying his braid over his shoulder.

“May I say that I really like your hair. The braid is very well done.”

“Thank you! My sister did it before I came here.” Gabe smiled. Gabriel paused, thinking about his own sister.

“Hey… are you ok? You spaced out for a moment.” Gabe said, raising an eyebrow.

“I miss my sister…” He sighed. Gabe put an arm over his shoulders.

“Let’s go, we can talk about it alone. I’m you, so I can understand you.”

Gabriel nodded.

“Can I bring Scarecrow? He’s a good friend to me.”

“Of course.”

As the two walked away, Scarecrow followed from behind. He was still stuck on the fact that Gabriel had called him a good friend. He felt good about it, but had a hard time believing it.

After everyone was gone, only Blackwell and Crow were left. Once again, the living room was awkwardly silent. It was broken again, but this time it was by the sound of glass breaking in the kitchen.

“Sorry!” Moon cried. They hurried to the kitchen.

Even if this wasn’t their world, at least they had someone. Someone who could help them and give them a home. At least, until they figured out how to get back to their own world.

#this turned out way longer than I expected #avantasia #tobias sammets avantasia #avantasia protag au #gabriel laymann #scarecrow #moonglow #Aaron Blackwell #the metal opera #the scarecrow #the mystery of time

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