#cause I want to write more for him

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

#Moon posting #OP Meta #Sir Crocodile #Crocodad #Nico Robin #THIS POST WAS AN ACCIDENT. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. WHY DID I WRITE THIS. WHAT DEMON POSSESSED ME #I'm sure someone's written this already right #Right #Surely this fanfic already exists #Please tell me it exists #I dunno what to tell you I am not immune to a Juicy AU #Anyway on a more wholesome side of things: Robin accidentally calling Crocodile ''dad'' and he just inhales and swallows his whole cigar #Nearly chockes to death. Gets burns on his throat. #Robin feeling less alienated because of her DF ability because Croc has seen weirder AND is made of sand himself #If anything if they're literally by themselves then Robin being able to literally lend a hand to Croc at any time could be extremely useful #Like. In regular life situations. 'Cause Croc only has one hand. And Robin as many as she wants. Perfect duo. #(Also if they were travelling on like a small ship then it'd probably be built for a Tall Motherfucker like Croc right) #(Robin's ability would just make the ship more accessible to her and Croc would find that independence good) #Robin still gets a codename because Croc can't have anyone realize who she is. Maybe she even wears like a mask or summin' in public #If Crocodile's openly trans and the news of him transitioning recently broke out. Like. No avoiding that convo eh #Baby Robin's like ''...I read in a book once that some reptiles can change sex but I didn't know crocodiles could do it too'' #''💦.../Humans/ can't do that normally either'' #''Hmmmm. Weird. I don't think being a girl would suit you though'' // ''...I'll take that as a compliment'' #I just. I think they could have really cute interactions if they warmed up to each other after a little while #And I'm Extremely Normal about that

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i love you, i love you (kill me in the morning) ; suguru geto

synopsis; everyone has a weakness. some are harder to get rid of. (or, alternatively; suguru geto befriends a non-sorcerer as a child.)

word count; 10.0k

contents; suguru geto/reader (not explicitly romantic but the subtext is there), gn!reader, geto-typical angst, childhood friends to [redacted], mild gore, suguru geto’s defection but with added angst, twisted depictions of love, depictions of stalking, depictions of death/murder, general bloodlust (geto wants to kill u soo bad but also not really), unresolved yearning, hurt/no comfort, curse user geto is his own warning tbh

a/n; ok so. this is kind of a mess. just my own take on geto’s childhood and defection + how i think he’d deal with a non-sorcerer reader after defecting……. so it turned out kinda. Dark. it’s entirely sfw to be clear!!! just sorta twisted. in conclusion i love my cult leader wife who wants me dead <3 (pls listen to ’kill me’ by indigo de souza it is SO geto)

suguru geto meets you in the afterglow of sunset, by a dusty summer creek.

it’s his special place, hidden in the outskirts of your tiny town; a place where the water glimmers with silver-hued fish, and all the biggest cicadas reside, singing softly and waiting to be caught.

a place where he can be himself. alone, with no one to curse him.

— except, this time, he isn’t alone.

your crying face is the first thing he sees. big, wet tears, cascading down your scrunched-up face, accompanied by little sniffles as you sit there. curled up into a ball, knees against your heaving chest.

the next thing he sees is the bruise on your leg. a scrape on your knee, gritty and a little bloody, but it’s not so awful. he can tell that it hurts, though — you bite your lip to stop yourself from trembling, like you’re trying to be brave. but you look pained. 

and it sends a tremor running through his very soul.

suguru was born with a bleeding heart, an empathy unusually developed for his age. always pushing him forward, coaxing him into taking action; this nagging desire to protect, to nurture. born with an inability to avert his gaze from the suffering of others.

so when the two of you lock eyes, he manages a smile. warm and soothing, even though deep down he’s alarmed. but he masks it, slathers over it with something kind, something comforting — and he can tell that it works, from the way your teary eyes seem to soften in the buttery hue of the afternoon glow.

you’re crying. and suguru finds himself wanting to wipe those tears away, more than anything. you look small, and you’re in pain.

(protect the weak, urges some voice in the back of his mind. insatiable. protect those who can’t protect themselves.)

he asks for your name, all while cleaning your wound. the wince that slips from your lips when the cold water of the creek licks at your knee makes his heart clench.

but you tell him. you tell him your name, as the sun sets in the horizon, and he tells you his. 

suguru. a sweet kid who sees you fall and patches you up. a cool kid who teases you a little for being so clumsy. who holds your hand tightly in his own, to make sure you won’t fall again.

the sun melts away beyond the cluster of trees that surround you, its burning glow breaking through the gaps between the branches and dyeing the summer creek a deep red. illuminating your blurry silhouettes, as you walk back home. hand in hand.

and that’s how it begins.

the two of you grow closer, in the same way flowers who share a stem learn to lean on each other, grow in the same direction, a mess of mingled roots. a natural connection, blooming out of nothing more than a sweet coincidence — that kind of blissful, innocent childhood friendship. the kind you never have to question.

you learn very quickly that suguru isn’t like the rest. that when compared to all the other kids you know, he’s mature, almost mystical, like he knows something they don’t.

you learn that there’s a gentleness to him, one he could never fully hide. one that shines through when he looks at you, when you play and laugh to fill the silence of the hills overlooking the small town you both live in.

you also learn that he can see ghosts.

curses, you’ll both come to learn, but that’s later. for a child in a remote town, isolated and alone, the familiarity of the ghost stories that adults tell you is the only kind of comfort suguru has to cling to. something lighthearted, to explain the predicament that haunts him — the flickers of black in his vision, that lingering taste of charcoal on his tongue.

suguru is different, you realize, different from the rest. and you eventually learn, from him, that you are far from alone in that belief.

in the town you both had the misfortune of being born into, suguru is the black sheep. his parents think there’s something wrong with him. the other kids think there’s something wrong with him. he isn’t right in the head, they whisper, he sees things that aren’t there.

(it’s a debilitating isolation that never truly leaves him.)

so suguru learns to stay silent, learns to keep his pretty little mouth shut, learns to lie. it’s easier that way. easier to survive, in the remoteness of your tiny town, with all the adults who scorn him and look at him like he doesn’t belong anywhere at all.

and suguru learns to be content, in that solitude. that heaven-granted isolation. a lone white chrysanthemum, in a sea of red and lavender; blossoming alone.

but then suguru meets you.

and, contrary to everyone else, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with him. when you tell him that he’s different from the rest, you mean it in the best possible way. you say it with starlight in your eyes, gleeful, giddy. like he’s special, not broken. like you’re also tired of those other kids, those sneering adults, the silence of a town so isolated it could crush a child’s heart.

like you have something in common. like you’re the same.

and you stay by his side. throughout the most difficult years of his early life, when he’s still growing accustomed to the duty he’ll have to bear for the rest of his life, you’re there. every single day. to smile at him, to speak to him like you’re both just normal kids — even though suguru is well aware that he’s anything but normal.

(when he’s with you, he feels like it, though. feels like he’s just a normal boy, like there isn’t something glued down wrong inside his brain. something twisted, something that needs to be plucked out.)

suguru finds comfort in you. in your presence, in the notes you pass him when classes get boring, in the way you cling to his sleeve while exploring the woods during recess. in the way you grin so brightly after managing to catch a firefly in the darkness of the summer night, all proud and toothy, a childlike innocence he wishes he still had.

you’re sweet, and understanding, and suguru thinks you might be the coolest person he knows. you’re his friend, his very best friend, his one and only.

and when he tells you what’s wrong with him — when he tells you what he can see — you ask him something that will forever rest in his subconscious. a flicker of precious, fleeting, genuine acceptance, one he won’t ever feel again. not until he meets a certain boy with blue eyes, but that comes later.

(a memory he’ll return to, over and over again. even after all the evil in the world has already descended upon him like a crackling hurricane.)

what do they look like?

there is no judgement in your voice, in the way the question slips from your lips. no mocking laughter, no silent rejection or whisper of crazy, evil, wrong. there’s only you, the way you’ve always been, curious and understanding and wise beyond your years.

suguru decides, right then and there, that he’ll protect you forever. no matter what.

you can’t see curses. you aren’t like him, in that regard, and he learns that quickly. and as suguru grows up, grows a little taller, a little wiser, he is glad that it’s true. he’s glad, because he already knows what kind of road lies ahead of him.

he already knows what kind of world you both live in, how unforgiving it can be. how many people die every day, every second, because of monsters only a select few can even see. he already knows that curses aren’t the eccentric, silly ghosts you were hoping for when you were kids — but pure, unadulterated evil.

(he already knows what they taste like.)

and suguru takes careful measures, day by day, to keep you away from it. as much as he can without lying outright. you’re curious, by nature, almost fascinated by curses and sorcery and everything you do not understand. an endearing trait, though it exasperates him to no end.

someone like you has no business sticking their nose into that kind of cruelty, he thinks, that kind of bloodshed.

and you’ve always been clumsy, a little scatterbrained. enough to make him worry instinctively when you’re out of his sight. like when you tripped and scraped your knee, by that tiny summer creek, all because you wanted to catch a dragonfly.

so he tries his best to keep you away from it, all of it, away from a darkness he knows would swallow you whole. away from the small, weak curses that sometimes litter the woods or the schoolyard; away from his cursed technique, the disgust of a power he never once asked for. 

(he never lets you see him swallow those things, never lets you witness the way he throws them right back up again before it happens so many times that he grows used to the disgust. you’re sharp, though, and he can’t hide the grimace that always lingers on his features.

you don’t ask — you only give him a packet of gum, to chew away the taste with, and suguru thinks to himself that he’ll love you forever.)

time passes by, slowly but surely, and the two of you stick together.

and as he grows into his teenage years, so much weight already resting on his tiny shoulders, suguru has already developed some sense of it all. of his ability, of the world of sorcerers. he’s already spoken to people like him, has already been made well aware of his potential. 

he’s already been given a choice, a choice that was never really a choice at all, but he decides that it doesn’t matter.

suguru decides to become a sorcerer. to train his abilities, to hone his skills. to eventually move away, from the stifling silence of that town, the silence that was only ever filled by you.

and suguru thinks to himself that he’s doing this for you. that in doing this, in being this, he’ll fulfill his promise to protect you.

(forever. no matter what. he echoes the words in his mind like a prayer.)

suguru wants to protect those who cannot protect themselves. those who are weak, those who are alone, people he has the power to help.

but more than anything, above all else, suguru wants to protect you. 

you are the most precious thing in his life. and if he can turn the world a little brighter for you, just a little bit kinder, then isn’t that enough? isn’t there enough meaning in that to give him the strength he needs?

there is. suguru decides that there is.

so when he tells you about his plans, under a pleasant, ephemeral starry sky, he does so with conviction. he knows that you will understand, because he knows you. you’re his best friend.

and he’s right. you do understand. you’re proud of him, and he’s your best friend, too.

i’ll support you, no matter what. 

the instantaneous answer makes suguru smile. not the kind of smile he plasters on to appease the adults around him, nor the smile he wears when he needs to lie convincingly. a full, genuine smile, that reaches his eyes and blossoms like a flower in the light of the moon; a warm, gentle smile, one you’ll always, always associate with him. 

(forever and ever. no matter what.)

and when suguru eventually has to leave, for a high school he’ll spend the next few years of his life living at, he carries that conviction with him. his choice is steadfast, unyielding, inevitable. the only one that matters.

the whistling of the wind breaches his ears, as you both stand on the platform and wait for his train to arrive. a spring breeze caresses your skin, and suguru’s bangs flutter in the wind. sunlight scatters across the train tracks and seagulls cry out in the distance, and the acute sensation of a parting lies heavy in the air.

it’s embarrassing. it’s childish. suguru wants to claim that he isn’t a child, anymore; that he wouldn’t give in to hesitation, at the sight of your meek expression. that he wouldn’t cry, at the thought of moving away from his best friend.

but the slight puffiness under his eyes is evidence enough. evidence of the tears he shed last night, when the reality of the situation finally dawned on him. 

suguru doesn’t want to part from you. he’s nervous, too — leaving you alone in that town, all by yourself, with no one around to protect you properly.

it's stupid. because deep down, he knows that you’ll escape too. that you’ll come after him, no matter how long it takes, that'll you'll both end up in tokyo. that you'll end up together, despite his duty as a sorcerer — eating soft serve ice cream cones, playing shooting games at the arcade, strolling around the big city aimlessly. doing all those things you always talked about doing.

because the two of you will always, always find your way back to each other. just like how he found you with that bruise on your leg, all those years ago, a fated encounter as natural as the glow of sunset. two lone dragonflies, who always meet somewhere in the middle of a dusty summer creek.

still, suguru can’t help but feel sad. a little lost. he can only hope you don’t notice the soft frown on his face, the faint redness of his eyes. 

(then again, when have you ever not noticed something he was trying to hide?)

there's no need to worry about it, suguru knows. he’s never had to worry about you judging him, looking down on him. never you.

and when his gaze falls on your face, after the train he’s supposed to board screeches to a halt behind him, your own tears are enough to make him realize how silly he’s being.

he laughs, from the bottom of his stomach, when you tackle him into a hug and tell him with teary eyes that you’ll come visit. he squeezes you especially tight, in a boyish fashion he can never quite hide from you, and murmurs into your ear that he’ll be waiting.

he asks you not to forget him. you laugh through your tears, and tell him that you never could.

before he has to let go and step into the train, you tell him that you love him, and his grin blooms with honeyed affection. he ruffles your hair, always gentle, always teasing, always the same suguru.

he tells you that he loves you, too.

— then he’s gone.

(you’ll forever regret not convincing him to stay.)

the two of you stay in contact, all throughout his first year. texting, calling — making sure neither of you get the chance to forget the other. suguru tells you about his life, his missions, his classmates, leaving out all the gritty details. and you listen; attentive, curious.

at one point, you even visit him. his friends tease him relentlessly, but all he does is roll his eyes and flick their foreheads, biting back a smile. that makes you laugh, and he’s relieved that the sound hasn’t changed in the slightest.

and suguru stays the same, throughout that one first year. he is steadfast, unyielding, decisive. he has a conviction he’ll never let go of, and people he's vowed to protect. people he needs to protect. 

(non-sorcerers, is what he tells satoru, and he means it. but suguru chooses to omit the fact that he specifically wants to protect one single non-sorcerer, above all else.)

and suguru is happy, with his choice. thoroughly and wholly. the road ahead of him will be long, full of obstacles and thorns, but he always knew that would be the case. and he knows that it’ll hurt, that it’ll be tough, but he also knows that this is what he sincerely wants to do. what he was meant to do. the only choice worth making.

suguru is content. suguru will not falter.

— then, his second year descends upon him.

riko amanai dies. toji fushiguro dies.

satoru gojo becomes the strongest sorcerer of the modern era.

(and suguru geto is left behind.)

it is a slow, sinking realization. one whole year to lose sight of his goal, lose sight of the conviction he held onto so tightly. one whole year to feel it slip through the gaps between his fingers, helpless to stop its course. everything grows muddled, molding, rotting before he has a chance to root it out — and all he can do is wait, as it festers like bile in the bottom of his gut.

suguru geto falters.

(he doesn’t quite know who he is, anymore.)

words he’s swallowed down like curses all his life keep flooding his subconscious, building up inside the back of his throat, spinning and spinning and spinning inside his brain until he feels sick enough to throw up. evil. crazy. protection. responsibility.

duty, duty, duty —

(what does that word even mean?)

suguru doesn’t remember. he can’t recall what made him step onto that train with such conviction, how he was able to smile so assuredly. how he was able to laugh, from the very bottom of his gut, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. he just can't remember.

who is he doing this for? what meaning lies in all this pain? 

suguru keeps watching, hoping for an answer that’ll save him just enough. waiting and watching. he’s always just watching, isn’t he? never changing anything. always too late, too weak, too fucking useless to stop even a single person from dying. 

he watches helplessly as a little girl gets shot in the head, for the crime of having been born different, for the sake of simple currency. watches helplessly as satoru carries her lifeless body in his arms, across a room full of people so vile that some deep, rotten, intrinsic part of suguru just wants to —

but there would be no meaning to it.

(does there really need to be one?)

suguru honestly doesn’t know, anymore.

riko dies.

(curses spring up like flies. he devours and devours.)

then haibara dies, too. 

(in the distance, he thinks he hears the sound of clapping.)

sorcerers. non-sorcerers. curses.

the words begin to rot inside his mouth, like wilted flowers, syrupy sweet and nauseating. crumbling on his tongue, numbing his senses until it’s all he can taste. a mouthful of honey, sticking to the walls of his throat, too sweet to stomach.

this is wrong, he thinks. everything is all wrong.

everything is wrong and i don’t know how to fix it.

— and then there’s you.

during your third year, both of you are busier than usual, but still find the time to talk when you can. the normalcy of your little stories is a comfort, to suguru — but also makes him burn with something he fears may be close to envy.

you tell him about your new school, your new town, your new beginning; bright and dazzling. one that suits you just fine.

the two of you are different, he realizes, all at once. some part of him always knew. you were born to be happy, kept away from the bloodshed, hands unsullied by the deep red that always dries beneath his fingernails. there was never a place for you in the world of curses. and he’s glad, that it’s true, he always has been, but —

(resentment festers in his gut. he can’t tell how long it’s been there, and he’s afraid to know the answer.)

these days, suguru takes a little longer to answer your texts. his voice comes out sounding a little more fatigued when he’s speaking to you through the phone, and he doesn’t talk as much as he used to. your voice soothes him, though, he thinks. just a tiny bit. but it’s enough.

(he’s doing this for you, too. he can’t forget that.)

and when you come to visit him, during his third year, suguru is surprised. surprised to see you, standing outside of his dorm, bags full of his favorite snacks in hand. smiling.

you look the same as always.

(he’s the only one who’s changed.)

it’s a pleasant surprise, though, despite everything. he really did miss you. in his life, your presence alone has been nothing but a comfort, for as long as he can remember. even now, when everything feels so blurry and uncertain, you appear to him as a flicker of starlight; shining through the darkness that’s been plaguing him for the past year.

so he tries to smile, tries to sound the same as always, but he knows you don’t buy it. you know because you know him, despite everything.

suguru wonders what you would think of him, if you could hear the thoughts he’s been having these past few weeks. he wonders what he looks like, reflected in your eyes. he wonders how much he’s changed since you last saw him.

(he hasn’t felt like himself in months.)

your presence is like a balm, to his soul, but it also seeks to hurt him further. because you’re still the same. still so understanding and wise and patient. you can tell that he’s fading, and he can tell that you can tell. but he doesn’t want to tell you why. he refuses to open up to you, because what would that accomplish? how could you possibly understand?

how could you understand his hatred, his resentment, towards the very people he’s supposed to protect? he told you that, himself. he decided to protect them, on his own accord. that’s his duty — steadfast, unyielding, inevitable. that’s all it was ever meant to be.

protect the weak. protect the ugly. protect everyone except his comrades, until all of them lie dead in a pile of maggots and tangly limbs and buzzing flies.

a bitter, heavy kind of vomit settles inside his chest, his throat. and somewhere deep inside suguru’s mind, in the very bottom of a drawer he vowed never to open, the image of non-sorcerers shifts, distorts, flickers on and off under the light.

protect those monkeys until his very last breath.

(what a fucking joke.)

you couldn’t understand. he doesn’t want you to. he promised himself that he would keep you away from that kind of darkness, no matter what, and —

and you’re the only good thing he has left.

not only that — you’re a non-sorcerer, too. and suguru knows what that means. if what his brain is telling him is true, if that’s really how it is, then you are no exception. then you’re just like the rest, something lesser, nothing but a —

(he thinks he might throw up.)

suguru does not tell you anything. despite everything, despite your pleading expression, despite the heavy bile at the bottom of his gut. he does not tell you what is truly wrong. he does not open up to you. 

and that is suguru’s first act of betrayal, to you. before he even betrays the jujutsu world.

(it is perhaps the only betrayal he’ll ever feel any kind of remorse over.)

you try, though. persistent in your affection. he loathes how little you’ve changed, how brightly you still shine when reflected in his eyes. you sit right next to him, under a pleasant, ephemeral starry sky, stars blurred by the light pollution, and tell him what you always have.

i’ll support you, no matter what. 

…

suddenly, all he can hear is the whooshing of the sea. as if he's been pulled underwater, a heavy weight tugging at his limbs, lungs gasping for air that doesn't exist. pure static, in his ears, a sharp crack of something. like a rib, or a train of thought. all he can taste is saltwater.

the dam begins to break. it cracks at the edges, like two giddy children poking a stick into a puddle layered with ice, giggling at their scattered reflections. memories resurfacing, images flashing in his subconscious. suguru looks at you like he’s lost. something inside of him breaks, disintegrates into a pile of despair. 

because you don’t understand what you’re telling him. you don’t understand what he thinks about doing, sometimes, when the nights are especially long and the school is especially empty and the taste of curses lies especially thick on his tongue.

you don’t understand. you never will. 

but you’re smiling at him, so very gentle. so accepting, so all-encompassing of everything that’s good, everything worth cherishing. just like always. 

suguru recalls your teary face; when you scraped your knee, when he left that town behind. he recalls all the ways you’ve soothed him, saved him, in all the years you’ve known him.

i’ll definitely come visit. i love you.

i’ll support you, no matter what.

what do they look like?

— suguru falters. these days, that’s all he ever seems to do.

how could he hate non-sorcerers, when you’re among them? how could he hate a world that has you in it?

(he can’t, he can’t, he can’t. he can’t hate you. not you.)

the words that spill so very easily from your lips break him. he can’t tell if you’ve mended the damage, or only worsened it. he can’t tell where the jagged hole inside his chest ends and begins. he can only tell that it’s extending, extending, extending.

suguru wants to fall apart. he wants to fall apart, for only you to see, because you’ve always been the only one who could ever understand. the only one who wouldn’t turn your eyes away from him, even back then. the only, only one. the only other white chrysanthemum.

he wants so desperately to be honest with you, to let every dark thought he’s ever had flow out from his lips. for you to hear, for you to scorn or to accept at your leisure, doom him or bless him, a bleeding dog at your feet. to get rid of the tangled mess of thoughts inside his muddled mind — to just let go of everything, even if it’s only for a minute or two. just a second would be fine.

suguru wants to drag you down with him. drag you down into the depths, into the abyss, to share the weight of his suffering. so that you can be together, just like you always have; through thick and thin. always and forever.

but he doesn’t.

(and what a betrayal that is.)

suguru keeps his pretty little mouth shut, and he gives you a smile. a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, the kind he always wears when he needs to lie convincingly.

he could tell you so many things. could ruin you completely, take you down with him. hand in hand, staining your unsullied skin with the blood on his own. into the gaping maw.

but at the end of the day, he chooses not to.

suguru chooses your peace of mind over his, just like he always has, and feeds you a vague half-truth. not quite a lie, but something that ignores the underlying question of your statement, a silent plea for sincerity. something deep and true, but almost sorrowful.

i know, he says.

i know you will.

the moment does not save him. but suguru does feel just a little more hopeful, a little less like he’s slowly rotting from the inside out. a little less like he’s completely and utterly alone, isolated in his agony.

you are the same as always. and what a relief that is. 

(for you, he can wade through the hell for just a little longer.)

when it’s time to say your goodbyes, suguru can tell you aren’t satisfied. that you wish you could do more. but he also knows that you won’t push it, because you’ve always respected him in a way no one else ever cares enough to do. 

before you leave, you tell him that you love him. in a quiet voice, a whisper, as if trying to squeeze some sincerity from his chest — a last-ditch attempt at reaching him. he squeezes your hand, instead, and doesn’t say it back.

suguru just smiles, flimsy, a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

you look like you want to say something, but you don’t.

and he watches you go, with forlorn eyes, until the dot that is you gets too small to distinguish from the darkness of the night. until he can almost delude himself into thinking that you’ve turned into a star. he watches you go as if trying to burn the sight into his memory, as if this is the last time he’ll ever see you.

(the curse of i love you rots in his mouth, unspoken, unvoiced.)

two weeks later, suguru stands in front of a cage, covered in blood.

the girls in front of him, skinny, frail, crying — beaten and exhausted — look at him like he’s a god. him, pale, smiling, with blood staining his white uniform, bathed in moonlight —

like some kind of angel of death.

suguru soaks up the metallic scent of the room, basks in that sickeningly sweet feeling of release. he soothes the girls, as best he can. he leads them away, careful not to let them see the bodies. 

(there isn’t much left of them, anyhow.)

suguru geto makes his choice. the only choice that matters. 

he will twist himself into a curse. he will devour his ideal, until it’s all that’s left of him. he will embody it, become it, through and through. it’s fine if he dies in the process, it’s fine if everyone dies — just as long as it means something.

that is the conviction he will carry with him. the decision to only ever see the line between ends and means, the bright light at the end of a never-ending tunnel.

the blood of an entire village is on his hands.

(a part of him wants to throw up. another grins with ecstasy. every part agrees that it was inevitable.)

their screams weren’t beautiful. they were aggravating, revolting, the wretched buzzing of bugs ringing like static in his ears. but it felt good. it felt just. something in his bones settling into its rightful place, a spark of affirmation.

and suguru doesn’t stop there. as if desperate for the cup to finally run over, to make sure that there truly is no going back, his feet take him to a place he always hoped he’d never have to see again.

when suguru returns to that stiflingly silent town, to kill his parents, you are no longer there.

it’s not a surprise. he knows you escaped, long ago, just like him — just like you always said you would. not quite to tokyo, to your grave disappointment, but you managed to find some other town to live in. bigger, better. the new beginning he always hoped you’d get.

suguru does not want to think of you. he doesn't want to remember your face, the sound of your laughter, the way your eyes shone in the light. he wants to erase every single trace of your existence from his memory, if only to protect you from the person he will soon become. or perhaps only to spare himself the heartache of it all.

but when he passes by that one summer creek, forgetting you becomes an impossibility. 

his eyes gaze at the silver-hued fish, sparkling beneath the moonlight, the big cicadas singing sadly under the shadows of the trees. he closes his eyes, and breathes in the solitude, and recalls a child with teary eyes.

suguru knows what school you go to. he knows what your town is called, what your street looks like.

and it is far, far away from the town he’s in. far from tokyo, too. 

— and suguru is relieved.

(it gives him an excuse not to hunt you down just yet.)

the sight of his childhood home stirs no fondness in his heart. it is empty, it is silent, it is the same as always. and now it doesn’t even have you in it, anymore.

so it doesn’t matter.

suguru moves on with conviction, with bloodstains scattered across his clothes, seeping into the fabric. the screams of his parents don’t mean anything — they blur together with old echoes of evil, crazy, wrong. 

(there is something wrong with that child.)

their blood sticks to the soles of his shoes and he is repulsed by their fragility. their blood stains his shirt and he is elated by the irony of it all. all he sees is a blur of red. 

the road before him becomes clear.

finally, there truly is no turning back. that one sliver of good still left in him, crushed beneath the heel of his boot. at last. homicide, patricide — the more he adds, the easier it’ll be. easier to distance himself, easier to convince himself that his choice matters. that the blood of mere animals is a small price to pay for the future he envisions.

that he is right. that he is just.

(self-affirmation. what a holy thing it is.)

there is still much left for him to do. so suguru leaves the town behind.

he leaves that tiny summer creek behind.

it is a premature death; a resignation of identity. he isn’t an adult, not yet, but he has long since stopped being a child. he stopped being a child the moment he saw a bullet go through the skull of an innocent girl, the moment he saw haibara’s ghostly pale skin. no sorcerers stay children for very long.

none of it matters, anymore.

time passes with a speed that’s almost frightening. 

suguru disappears, almost entirely faded, leaving only geto in his wake. a new person, an entirely different human being — ten years of living in an echo chamber, ten years of forming his personality in the shape of something twisted.

(something almost divine.)

and geto is right. just. geto has conviction, and that’s all he needs. everything goes according to plan; geto has a goal, and a family to pursue that goal with, to pursue that goal for. everything finally feels just right. breathing feels a lot easier. living feels a lot easier. 

but everyone has a weakness.

and there is one thing, only one thing, that still acts as a thorn in his side. something that holds him back, a stain yet to be wiped away, a piece of gum stuck to the sole of his shoe. a tattered memory, clinging to his subconscious as if haunting him.

(i’ll support you, no matter what.)

if only you could see him now.

when geto left his old life behind, he did not contact you. he did not say goodbye. he threw away his phone, deleted every single thing that someone could use to locate him with, and left. he hasn’t heard from you in years, hasn’t spoken to you. 

but he has seen you.

geto knows where your town is. what your apartment looks like. he knows what university you go to, where your go-to café is located. 

so resisting the temptation eventually becomes impossible. 

he tries not to think of you, he really does. he tries to act like you are nothing, to him, because you aren’t. you are proof of weakness and a fragility that geto loathes, proof of his own foolishness, his young naivety. you are everything he hates and everything rotten and everything he’s vowed to cleanse from the earth.

but, despite that undeniable truth, geto cannot help but seek you out.

he tells himself that it means nothing. that he’s only doing it to make sure he knows where he’s got you, like a predator watching over their prey, preparing to lunge out of hiding when the moment is right. because geto knows that your death, at his hands, is inevitable. what you are is a weakness, a connection that lingers on his skin like a mold, one he still has to the creatures that disgust him so.

so it’s inevitable.

in reality, he should have killed you first. before his parents, before the village — he should have killed you, because that would have solidified his devotion in a way nothing else ever could. but he didn’t. 

geto likes to think of it as a symbol, of sorts. that he’ll save you for last. the same way children eat every last part of the cake, greedily, before gulping down the strawberry. every single non-sorcerer will be dead by the time he gets to you. you’ll be the one remaining obstacle, the one final stain to rinse away before his dream becomes reality, the one thing still standing between him and the divinity he seeks. 

it is an honour, geto thinks, an honour he would not bestow to anyone but you.

but until that time comes, all he can do is watch over you. silently, so you don’t notice. always from afar, sometimes through the eyes of the curses he’s bound to. just to make sure that you’re still alive. that you haven’t tripped over your shoelaces and gotten yourself into a car accident, or gulped down a mouthful of food too fast and choked to death, or anything similarly pathetic. he wouldn’t put it past you. really, he has no idea how you’ve survived this long without him.

weak, fragile, clumsy. soft enough to sink his teeth into. you are everything that geto hates. you are nothing, nothing at all.

(and you are the same as always, despite everything. what an aggravation that’s become.)

he watches you, anyway; like a god finding amusement in his creations, an omniscient overseer watching you stumble day to day. he watches as you live your life, as you talk to other people with that familiar smile on your face. it hasn’t changed in the slightest.

he watches you laugh, watches you grab a crêpe from a street vendor, watches you cry when you think nobody is there to see.

(the sight sends a tremor running through his soul, one he desperately wants to pretend not to feel.)

on melancholic summer days, when the sun paints the sky pink and golden, he watches you clutch onto his old sweater. one you always said you were going to return, but never did — never got the chance to. you used to tell him it was too comfortable not to steal. that it smelled like him, that it made you feel less lonely. geto so tenderly wishes he could have forgotten those words, by now.

but he watches you, in the solitude of your apartment, as you bury your face in the wool and inhale the fading tinge of his old cologne. then you cry and cry, like a child, until the moon rises in the sky; until you’re breathing softly, lulled to sleep by his scent.

(geto thinks to himself that you are a fool, to still miss him after all these years.)

it’s not an everyday occasion. most days, he does not think of you. there are many other monkeys to kill, many things to discuss. there’s money to be made, plans to be forged, wars to be brewed. geto is a busy man. a family man, no less.

but when boredom is all he can feel, he still finds himself seeking you out. just to make sure no one has gotten to you before him. just a god enjoying the struggles of a lesser being.

that’s all it is, geto tells himself. that’s all it’ll ever be, from now on.

no one needs to know if he spends the occasional morning checking up on you, curious if you did well on that exam you were studying for. no one needs to know if he absorbs the curses that sometimes cling to your fragile skin, gulping them down before they cause too much damage. no one needs to know if anyone who gives you a little too much trouble suddenly disappears off the face of the earth. 

no one needs to know if he reminisces, every once in a while, when the summer nostalgia is too much to bear. about your childhood, about that question you asked him — a million years ago, back when the center of his universe was a single summer creek. 

(no one needs to know if he finds comfort in your presence, even now.)

on days when the moon hangs low in the sky, and geto can’t choke back the longing in his chest, he sits by your bed and watches you sleep. a forlorn expression on his face, lips stuck in a tight line. it’s risky, careless, but he’s helpless to the temptation. 

most nights, you lie perfectly still. so still he can almost delude himself into thinking that it’s over, that you’ve passed on, that he won’t have to kill you after all. sometimes you twist and turn, mumble something unintelligible under your breath that he doesn’t catch.

he wonders what you dream about. he wonders if you ever have nightmares, if they’re ever about him. he wonders why he even cares at all.

geto resents you. resents you for existing, for smiling every day, for being a bridge between him and lesser creatures. he resents you, resents you, resents you.

(self-affirmation. what a holy thing, indeed.)

— he could kill you so easily. 

he wouldn’t even need a curse to do it. a flick of his pinkie would be more than enough. that’s how fragile you are; asleep, right in front of him, breathing softly while he watches you like how the fox watches the lamb.

(he could end all of this, right now, in the silence of the night. in your most vulnerable state.)

and yet, geto allows the opportunity to pass him by.

he can’t get too greedy. that’s what he tells himself, as he slips out of your window in the dead of night, leaving your sleeping figure behind him. it’s not the right time. he can let you sleep, for just a little while longer. the bags under your eyes have looked especially heavy, recently.

(he tries not to remember the sleepover you had as kids, when he stayed perfectly still as you dozed off on his shoulder. doing his best not to wake you, watching you fondly until the sun began to rise. back when all he wanted was to protect you.)

geto knows that you know he’s not dead. he knows because he’s almost certain that satoru spoke to you, back then, even if he probably didn’t let you in on any details. because he knows that you’re sharp, sharp enough to know that he’s alive.

and even if that were not the case, geto knows because he’s sent you gifts. letters. absentminded, almost taunting, cruel in their joviality — always anonymous, always mysterious and vague and impossible to trace back to him. but he knows that you know who they’re from.

a little dance, if you will. geto haunts you like a ghost. he never lets you see him, but he lets you know that he’s there, sometimes. just out of frame.

he can only hope it’ll eventually haunt you to death.

(if it ends up as a comfort to you, instead, then, well — it is what it is.)

all of it is a safety measure in disguise. a way to satisfy the yearning inside his chest, without coming too close. that doesn’t mean he never falters, though.

every once in a while, he feels strangely compelled to talk to you. to waltz into your home, in a lighthearted fashion, to soak up your shocked expression. to ask how you’ve been, casually, and watch you stammer, stumble over your words — he can imagine the face you’d make, the way the lilt of your voice would tremble. would you cry? he can’t help but wonder, sometimes.

yet he always resists the temptation. careful, cautious, with every move he makes. like a shadow. he deliberately leaves no traces of himself behind, no breadcrumbs for you to follow like the curious creature you are. geto lets you know that he’s there, but he doesn’t let you see him, because if he talks to you he knows that he’ll kill you. and he can’t have that, not just yet. 

eventually, he’ll do it. he’ll do it, and he’ll watch as your blood stains the silk of his robes like the inevitability it is. but not yet.

you’ll be the last one, the last one he’ll kill. the final proof of his devotion.

until then, he can have this. this sickeningly sweet scrutiny of your life, your life without him. the sound of your laughter, the reflection of untainted light in your iris.

(you are the same as always, and you are a weakness that geto is learning to live with.)

he can’t rest, won’t rest until it finally ends. until the curtain calls on your bloodied body, until he feels the cold skin of your palm against his lips.

only then will he finally know if it was all worth it. only then will he be free of this yearning. only then will he be able to say that the last remnants of suguru have been well and truly cleansed from his soul, that there is nothing left of the person he was.

only then will geto be able to call himself wholly divine. 

but until that time comes, he can do nothing but watch you. when the temptation begins to crawl under his skin again, when he needs to remind himself of what he’s fighting for. that one thing, at least, never once changed; suguru geto has always fought for you. for your protection, for your survival, for your demise.

for your happiness, in life or in death.

(geto hates you, loathes you, resents you for being what you are; but suguru will always, always love you. forever and ever. no matter what. 

and that will be their undoing.)

suguru geto dies without saying goodbye to you. 

if there are any regrets to speak of, any at all, then maybe that’d be it. he never got to see that shock on your face, never got to hear you stammer in the way you always used to when you were nervous.

in the golden hue of sunset, the last of his resentment finally fades away. the curse known as geto disappears, and what remains is no more than a ghost — the ghost of suguru, the person he was, the person he never quite stopped being.

and when geto disappears, when the last of his resentment fades away, suguru finally allows himself to think of you. fully, without interruption, without unspilled blood festering beneath his tongue. just one single touch of sincerity, one last indulgence before it all ends. he thinks of you, you as a person, not you as a non-sorcerer. he gives your memory the respect it deserves. something worth cherishing.

he wonders what you’re doing, right now. he wonders if you studied enough for that exam next week, if you found a good gift for your friend’s birthday party. he wonders if you still miss him, even though he'll never be deserving of it.

satoru stands in front of him, genuine, sincere. and suguru thinks that he is a fool, just like you; to still have any kind of affection left for someone like him. after he left you both behind, that summer.

satoru doesn’t curse him. suguru wishes he would.

a soft bout of laughter falls from his lips, as the sun sets behind him, and he knows you would have found the sight breathtaking. you always did love sunsets, didn't you? the sun was setting when he found you with that bruise on your leg, he recalls — such a miniscule detail. he wonders why he remembers only now.

suguru chokes back his tears, still smiling. it’s a smile of love. a smile of regret. he thinks of satoru. 

at least curse me a little at the very end.

those should be his final words. he should avert his gaze, follow the script, tear his eyes away from the only other person besides you who ever truly knew him —

but he doesn’t. he can’t. suguru looks straight at him, at satoru, into his eyes, so blue they seem to gleam in the orange hue of the melting sun. sparkling like little galaxies, like the crinkling of soda pops, like crystallized summer skies. he looks beautiful, as beautiful as he always was.

(i wish i had told you, suguru thinks. i wish i had told you everything.)

in a voice so small he barely hears it, so tender that geto would’ve felt disgusted to his very core, suguru asks his best friend for one last favour. he’s not sure why, not sure why it matters —

but maybe, just this once, it’s fine if it’s meaningless.

satoru listens, intently. he looks at his best friend with eyes so soft it makes suguru want to laugh and cry and go back to a time when they were all happy. but they can’t, that choice was lost ten years ago — he threw it away. smothered it beneath his boot heel. there was never any going back, from the very beginning. 

satoru answers his plea. one final favour, one best friend to another. 

of course.

a shaky breath. he can’t tell who it came from.

of course i will.

suguru smiles. a full, genuine smile, that reaches his eyes and blossoms like a flower in the light of the sun. it’s the last time anyone will see it.

satoru clenches his jaw. he crouches down, and presses his fingers against his best friend’s battered body, right over his bleeding heart. he will never, ever forgive himself for what he's about to do.

(suguru already has.)

and the moment before the last flicker of light leaves his eyes, suguru chooses to think of you.

he thinks of your smile, the way your lips curled up at even the smallest things. he thinks of your curiosity, how it always lead him back to you. he thinks of what could have been.

he thinks of that question you asked him, all those years ago — how accepted it made him feel. that sensation of being understood. suguru thinks you saved his life, that day.

(he never got to thank you for it.)

you were his childhood friend. his nearest, dearest, oldest one. 

suguru doesn't believe the world he lives in is kind enough to allow him a second chance. and he doesn't think he really deserves one, either way.

but if there is a next life, if he’s lucky enough to be reborn —

then suguru hopes he’ll be born as a dragonfly, so he can find his way back to you.

he’ll meet you, again; in the afterglow of sunset, by that dusty, forgotten, tiny summer creek. framed by silver-hued fish and cicadas, and the silence of a town that glimmered while you were both in it.

he won’t be able to wipe your tears away, won’t be able to clean the bruise on your knee — but he can be with you. and maybe, in your next lives, that’ll be enough.

(what a lovely thought.)

suguru smiles, and lets a final breath of air course through his burning lungs.

— it tastes like summer.

there is a silent understanding, between the two of you.

it’s been ten years since you last spoke to satoru gojo. it wasn’t a very pleasant conversation, and somehow, you doubt this will be an exception. an acute awareness lies heavy in the air — and deep down, some part of you knows what he’s about to tell you.

(as if it was an inevitability.)

gojo doesn’t smile. his voice has no masked amusement to it, no sense of joviality. if you strain your ears, you think it may even be wavering, slightly, so faint it’s hard to tell for sure. just that one low shiver of his lips, saying more than words ever could.

he doesn’t beat around the bush. and you see that for the kindness that it is, despite the ice cold chill that creeps into your veins when his words spill out into the air, a full body shiver traveling down your spine.

he tells you that suguru is dead, and you don’t flinch. you don’t even cry. that comes later.

in the moment, all you can do is nod, a little pitiful, teeth digging into the flesh of your bottom lip to stop it from wobbling. like you’re trying to be brave. 

truthfully, you had a feeling that was the case.

sometimes, it was as if you could feel him. just barely out of reach, a certain cologne lingering on your windowsill, a box of cookies you’ve liked since you were little delivered to your doorstep. a sudden feeling of being watched. a note wishing you luck on whatever exam or driver’s test or job interview you had the next day, accompanied by a silly smiley face so distinctly suguru it made you want to cry.

— how cruel of him.

but you couldn’t help but feel comforted by it, all the same. it made you feel like he was still with you, somehow, like he still cared. even though he disappeared from your life without saying anything. even though gojo told you explicitly all those years ago to stay away, if you ever saw him, as if he was suddenly dangerous —

but you could never be afraid of him. you don’t think you have it in you. 

to you, suguru will always just be the boy who helped you up when you scraped your knee, all those years ago. a sweet, cool kid, who held your hand firmly and gently wiped the blood off your skin.

(he’ll always be your nearest, dearest, oldest friend. even if you aren’t his.)

but lately, there’s been nothing. you haven't felt any traces of him at all, no lingering gazes boring into your back. so you knew. deep down, maybe you always kind of knew.

gojo looks at you with compassion, understanding. and without him having to say it, you know he loved suguru too. you know because his breathing is shaky, because his eyes look puffy from hours of crying; you know because grief is like a stench, thick and heavy, overwhelming, one that clings to your skin and haunts your very being. just like love.

and you can smell it on the both of you.

(you both loved the boy who died for his ideals, the man who was so moral it killed him.)

the news will sink in, later. you are sure that you will crumble, and you are sure that you will cry. you’re sure that the road ahead will be a long one, full of obstacles and thorns. but that’s fine. you’ll deal with it when the time comes. suguru was always a little mystical, a little too good to be true.

maybe you always sort of assumed things would end like this; that he’d walk ahead without you, with all his whispered secrets and gentle lies. 

(asshole.

he could have given you a call, at least. even just once.)

for now, all you can do is try to keep your trembling skin intact. and you assume that gojo will leave, now that you know, that this was all he came here for. just a messenger of death, coated in a grief so strong you doubt he’ll ever be rid of it.

but gojo doesn’t leave. 

he hands you something, instead.

a polaroid, you quickly realize. a photograph, of three kids — one with white hair, one with brown hair, and one with black hair. the black haired boy is trying hard not to smile, you can tell. the other two have got their arms around him, squeezing his body tightly with matching grins, throwing up peace signs. he looks at them with exasperation in his eyes, but you can tell that there’s a love there. you can tell, you know, because despite everything, you still know him.

a lump forms in your throat.

it’s not the original copy, is what gojo tells you, apologetic. you’re almost certain that he kept it for himself, and you don’t blame him. i’m sorry. but i wanted to… you know.

(he wanted to give you something to hold onto.)

the gesture is a little bit awkward, just a tad clumsy. but it’s a genuine concern, a sincere kindness. you aren’t really surprised that suguru spent his last moments with this man instead of you.

gojo continues to speak, and you continue to listen, attentive — hungry for anything to mend the hole in your heart. but your eyes never once stray from the photograph.

(suguru looks so, so happy.)

he tells you that suguru talked about you a lot, back then. and without him having to say it, you know what he really means is he loved you a lot. the words of consolation ring like static, in your ears. it hurts. the hole in your heart just keeps extending, extending, extending.

gojo notices. so he gets to the point, the final point, the only one that matters. this is his duty, too — granting suguru’s last request. the only one he ever asked of him in words.

(it’s the least he could do, for the man he loved so dearly, the one who left him behind in the shadow of summer.)

he tells you that there’s one more thing. that suguru asked him to tell you something, that it was the last thing he ever said. words that he wanted you to hear, more than anything.

gojo’s voice does not waver. it is not his place.

you listen. you listen as if it will bring him back. you listen as if it is the last thing you will ever do.

and gojo speaks.

the words mean everything, and also nothing at all. how very like him. they bounce off the walls of your apartment, spilling into the suffocating air, echoing inside your mind. cutting into your bloodstream, rooting themselves in a particularly soft spot deep within your ribcage, chrysanthemums blooming from your flesh. petals filling up your stomach until you can scarcely breathe.

the final words of your childhood friend. your nearest, dearest, oldest one; suguru geto, who you will always love, in the same way the sun loves the moon, as naturally as breathing.

the dam breaks. the sky shatters. the sob you choke on tastes salty, and gojo looks remorseful, his figure blurred by your tears. everything comes crashing down around you — an inevitability you were hoping to put off, in the same way suguru put off talking to you all those years.

and now, finally, he tells you his honest feelings. when it’s already far too late. how very, very like him.

(tell them i’m sorry. and that i hope their exam goes well.)

— honestly. what a fucking asshole.

not once did you ask for an apology. you never wanted one, never thought to even wish for it. you didn’t need one.

all you wanted was for him to come back to you. to find you, again, the way he always did.

tears cascade down your scrunched-up face, big and childlike, but no one’s there to wipe them away anymore. you cradle the photograph in your hands, savouring every single memory you have of him. all the love your heart can muster.

the tears never seem to end. they continue to run down your cheeks, until all you can smell is sea salt, until the sun has set in the horizon, until the moon has hanged itself in the sky. a silent comfort, but it’s not enough. it never will be.

a sniffle pushes past your lips, and you hear yourself laugh — bitter, raspy, gentle all the same. what a moron, you whisper, a soft lull of your tongue. didn’t he know?

(you forgave him long ago.)

bonus 👀

#get u a man who loves you so deeply it causes him cognitive dissonance #im a lil unsure abt this piece pshshs but it has a rly special place in my heart!! #i just like the idea of geto being so desperately in denial about his love for u that he forces himself to hate u. self-affirmation yknow? #subconsciously putting u on a pedastal above the rest… being unable to let go of the connection between u even though he wants to sever it #having this evident fondness for you but its constantly battling with the part of him that hates what your existence means for him #telling himself that he’ll ’save u for last’ but its more of a measure to keep himself from killing u bc he knows his ideal is unattainable #so he’ll never have to kill you. it'll never get to that point. he wants to so badly though. but does he really? #yeahhh. im normal abt fucked up curse user geto <3 soft canon divergent sugu is still my fave to write for tho #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #geto angst #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #geto x y/n #jjk x y/n

[sweetcreaturetm]

I wish there was more nurse Steve.

Like Steve in nursing school doing clinicals and he does a round in the ED. And his first shift he gets this weirdo who has to have one of his rings cut off his finger cause he bet his buddy that his rings wouldn’t bend under the wheels of his van. He’s honestly lucky none of his bones are broken. Steve’s kind of just in the background since he’s just doing clinicals but the guy keeps looking at him for comfort while the doctors are setting up all the stuff to cut the ring. Steve can tell he’s a little scared so he goes to stand on his other side to distract him.

“So- uhhh” Steve checks the chart “Mr. Munson do you usually go around running over various body parts?”

Eddie smiles widely at him “it’s Eddie, and no. But uh” he shares a sneaky look with Steve and lowers his voice like they’re conspiring together “I was a little… shall we say elevated”

Steve literally giggles “I knew it smelled a little funkier than usual” he winks.

“What can I say I’m a funky guy-“ Eddie gets cut off by the small saw the doctors are aiming at his hand. Steve can tell he’s about to freak out he sees him start to pull his hand away.

He puts his hand on Eddie’s other arm and brings his attention back to him. He glances down at his guitar pick necklace. “Do you play the guitar?” He asks his hand never leaves Eddie’s arm. And that gets Eddie distracted going on and on about his sweetheart and his band and how they play at a place called the hideout and Steve listens intently. Steve’s more than kind of mesmerized by him.

Before either of them realize the ring is off. The charge nurse asks Steve to finish wrapping Eddie’s fingers and discharge him. Steve goes about getting the gauze and other supplies while still listening to Eddie now he’s talking about D&D something Steve knew more about than he wished thanks to Dustin.

He interrupts Eddie “Okay so I’m gonna put this ointment on just for some relief the saw blade didn’t cut you but it got a little hot for your skin so you might feel a little discomfort. Then I’ll wrap it up. Try to keep an eye if it starts to hurt worse or you have a reaction. I can sneak you some of this it works wonders” he starts to clean the tray off but Eddie stops him with his hand over Steve’s own.

“Do you think I could have my ring back?” He asks sheepishly.

“Oh yeah! Of course sorry I wasn’t thinking” Steve’s a little embarrassed of course he wanted his ring he probably didn’t even care about the stupid ointment. He puts the ring in a little plastic cup they use for pills. Unfortunately they had to cut it a few times so there’s some small bits of the band that are in pieces.

After Eddie signs all the paperwork he gives Steve a little bow in thanks “you probably couldn’t tell since I was being so brave” Eddie says. Steve giggles at that. “But I am a tad frightened of hospitals and stuff. So thanks for being so nice to me. And distracting me when they tried to saw my finger off”

“They would not saw your finger off!” Steve laughs even harder. “It was nice talking to you.” He gives Eddie a hopefully flirty smile.

“Whatever you say, Stevie” Eddie says after he glances down at Steve’s temporary badge. “But hey if it was so nice maybe you can come check out our next show after my fingers are fully recovered” he waggles said fingers but then winces and stops.

Steve reaches out for his injured hand and holds it and says “that actually sounds really nice. But I literally have no time out of school and clinicals.”

“Well maybe I’ll just have to find another way to injure myself to see you again” Eddie says getting bolder.

Steve looks deep into his eyes. He glances down at Eddie’s lips god he wishes he wasn’t literally working right now. “What if you didn’t hurt yourself again and I give you my number and you can come by when I get off my shift.”

Eddie considers for a second and hands Steve his own phone so Steve can put his number in. “That sounds doable” he leans close to Steve’s ear as he gathers his jacket to walk out of the curtained off area and then whispers “just like you” he winks over his shoulder at a gaping Steve.

When Eddie pulls out his phone after getting to the van he sees the newest contact in his phone “Stevie” with a little stethoscope emoji next to it. He sends Steve a quick text so he’ll be able to text him when he’s off.

Finally Steve takes a break and checks his phone he’s been dying to check it since Eddie left he has a text from an unknown number “Guess who *guitar emoji* *ring emoji*” Steve cannot stop grinning the rest of his shift.

#this started as a post about wanting more nurse Steve #then it didn’t stop #still think I need more cause I think it fits him so well #mean girl turned nurse #I mean that is Steve #I know he’s a reformed mean girl but still #nurse Steve #steddie #steddie ficlet #my writing #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #over use of emojis in text

[heartsgettingwiser62]

So when are we as a fandom going to stop pretending that jonathan byers isn't one of the best written and most interesting characters in st

#no cause it PAINS me to see how underrated he is #the amount of angst this guy has?? all the complicated feelings inside him??? his relationships with other people??? #the way he loves and hates and manages to survive??? i could write for hours all the internal dialogue going through his head #he's such a complex character and we just brush him off???? i genuinely dont get how hes not more popular #'but steve is hotter 🥺🥺' i am going to rip my skin off. #anyways thats it that was the rant #im rewatching s1 and istg i want to EAT his character #i need more content abt him i need discussion i need a statue of jonathan byers in every corner of every city #is that going a bit too far? #naahh #anyways it wont happen but s5 jonathan protagonist plsplspls im begging you #jonathan byers #stranger things #stranger things 5 #st5 #st #jancy #byler #<<<target audience

[pettyprocrastination]

thinking about how as Aemond’s wife you are the model of perfection. 

Your back is straight as you curtsy when you first meet him and hair neatly braided with fine jewels. Your voice is even and never waivers as you speak to him of your family and how grateful they are for this union. 

You are intelligent and beautiful, the perfect wife. 

It’s why Aemond hardly ever spends time with you. 

He bears no ill will toward you, of course. There is no resentment or hatred to his lady wife, but there are no fond feelings either. 

He knows of courting and romance, his mother taught him everything from a young age. The poor woman would hold her son’s hands tight and explain that a man must not only respect his wife, but truly cherish her. Love her in the eyes of gods and men. As he grew older he noticed the way his father would wave off her constant advice and concerns until the dreaded night where she was the only one defending him after he lost his eye.

But practice was one thing. When you were nothing but a concept. A figment of Aemond’s imagination when he was ten and marriage was only spoken of during his lessons. Before he lost his eye. Before he heard the ladies of the court whispering about his mutilation and before he watched a whore flinch at the sight of his scarring when Aegon dragged him to a brothel on his thirteenth name day. 

He learned then that no matter how much he would love and worship his wife, it would not be returned. 

Rather than attempt to force it (he was no brute and had no intentions of doing something so cruel) he simply let you be by yourself. 

Yes you were married. You sat by one another at every meal and formal event and on the rare occasion he would even ask for your hand in a dance. But Aemond’s affections toward you were few and far to find. 

But there were moments. 

Where his icy facade would weaken and you found yourself able to slip through the cracks. 

Alicent had told you of his “moments” when the engagement had been announced. The queen herself taking you by the hand as you walked through the garden and explaining gently of Aemond’s condition. 

“There are times where he feels a great deal of pain because of the-” She paused, chewing on her cheek while trying to find the most inoffensive way to describe the tragedy that befell her son. “-incident he had as a child.” 

You knew enough of it. Many rumors flew through court the day Aemond targaryen walked in with a patch on his eye after Laenor Velaryan’s funeral at driftmark. Some day it was from a sparring incident, others say it was a mark he bore from the first time he mounted the mighty vhaegar. Others say that the Rouge Prince Daemon Targaryen himself gave it to his younger cousin after crude words were exchanged behind closed doors. 

You didn’t know what was the truth. Aside from the day the princeling got his scar, was the same he got his dragon.

A fair trade, some would say. 

But they didn’t live with the attacks he did. 

Nerve damage, is what the maester’s called it when you asked them for more information. His wound may have healed years prior but the prince would continue to live his life with constant bouts of mind-numbing pain brought on by the slightest touch or too sharp of a wind to his cheek. 

“Senseless fits.” Aegon called it. When he heard about your curiosity about his brother’s condition he had all but cornered you late at night in the hall. “Anything will set him off and send him throwing a tantrum like a belligerent child. It’s quite entertaining.” 

But there’s a moment where the elder brother frowns and you see a shred of concern in his eyes. 

“He doesn’t like to be touched during those moments. It makes the pain worse. So if you’re trying to find some way to comfort him I’d recommend you do something else.” 

What was ‘something else’ you learned, was simply being there. 

Sitting by his side when he curled into himself, trembling fingers reaching out to grab yours and not complaining when his nails dig into the palm of your hand as he cries out in pain. When his breath evens out and the pain subsides, he crawls to you and presses his face to the crook of your neck. He’s far too tired to cover the gnarled scar covering the side of his face but you show no fear or disgust at the sight of it. Your fingers run through his hair, gently combing back the silver tresses and ignoring the tears that stain the shoulder of your gown. 

The next morning your husband would wake in your arms and takes a moment to watch your peaceful expression and the way the morning sun kisses your skin. 

That day Alicent notices her son sits closer to you at breakfast, speaking softly to you of something she cannot understand. But when she sees his hand reach out and grasp yours, she smiles. 

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #reminded me of the post about aemond most likely having some sort of nerve damage from losing his eye so- here she be #idk something about composed wives who are just as strong and dangerous if not more than there husband just gets me man #not edited or beta read i just wanted to do a writing exercise to try and clear my mind cause its very blurry atm #this is very wonky wobbly but im trying to keep myself writing even if its silly little things so i dont lose practice yknow!! #for the aemond girlies *passes out* #anyways part two in the 'aemond isnt good at affection' vault because im confident in it #man just assumes you arent attracted to him so he steers clear of you #but is also incredibly protective and a lil jealous

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

my greatest achievement in DA2 is maxing out Carver's friendship

and all it took was begrudgingly kissing a little templar ass in act 1 because Carver didn't want to plan a prison break if my Hawke got his ass arrested for being stupid.

#carver hawke #dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #well that and he didn't want leandra gamlen and himself to also get arrested for harboring an apostate but you get me #carver hawke loves his sibling and doesn't want them to get taken away that's why he's such an ass and approves of 'pro-templar' choices #in act 1 he's not pro-templar himself but kissing a little templar ass is how you avoid being arrested #'why yes cullen you are so right the templars are so cool and sexy' my hawke says through gritted teeth for that +5 friendship #look i love him okay he's my favorite and i will go the extra mile to make him happy and it's worth it for how much softer can be later on #honestly maxing out his friendship isn't hard if you're aware of what quests you're bringing him on and make him a grey warden #oh but you do need the legacy dlc otherwise you can't fully max friendship out... you can still get enough to change his dialogue/attitude #also like... we the player know hawke won't be arrested like they're not in any actual dangers from the templars as the playable character #but carver doesn't know that and neither does hawke so the templars *are* a real threat to them #and it's incredibly reckless to purposely piss off templars AND selfish because it's not just hawke that'll be arrested it's their family #for harboring them like we witness templars going after people hiding apostates soooo..... #i'm just saying that carver isn't irrational or just being an ass to personally annoy you okay he has cause #also once carver's a warden and ed has money and the estate THEN he's way more open about telling the templars to piss off #sigh one day i'll sit down and write an essay about carver.... one day

[dirtytransmasc]

I need more selkie theon (and asha. I just think that would be a vibe. fuck the greyjoy sigil being a kraken for a moment and let them be seals) content.

like the opportunity to have theon's coat taken by ned when he's made his ward is right there and it is perfect and beautiful and tragic.

and you could build on that depending on the version of the selkie myth/story you're going off of (I personally love the song of the sea version of selkies for story writing). maybe he can't talk without it, maybe he gets sick, maybe his voice has magical properties of sorts.

I have this one concept in my head that I don't have the time to write, but it goes something along the lines of theon getting sick after years away from his coat and the stark kids have to find his coat and drag his slowly dying ass to the bay of seals (cause y'know bay of seals and theon's a selkie so he'll turn into a seal... I thought it was creative).

also, in a lot of versions of selkies, when they get sick, their hair turns white, which is on brand for theon. they're also pretty, their stories are typically soaked to the bone in tragedy, they're normally held captive/tortured, amongst other things, which are also very on brand for theon.

and maybe you get some selkie to selkie telepathy of sorts, so when theon finally enter the water a seal again, asha books it to come find him, cause its been years since she's been able to feel him (I'm soft for them, I will create the most improbable and ridiculous scenario's to bring them together and for them to have soft sibling moments).

all and all, theon being a selkie is something I need more content of, please and thank you.

#theon would be a harbor seal and asha would be a leopard seal. I don't make the rules. #I think theon being a selkie would just be cool #like. it would make him being a ward all the more interesting. there's the potential for him to be stripped of his *skin* and his *voice* #and to keep him from the sea would be even more cruel #then there's the different ways you could give him magical properties. he could be enchantingly beautiful. his voice could be magical. he- #could bring good luck to ships. he could have a song that held a specific power of sorts. #there's just so many possibilities and I have many thoughts #also just imagine the starklings. at the very least robb and jon (who barely wants to be there but went for moral support) stealing theon- #and going on a 'roadtrip' to the bay of seals. theon's looks about ready to keel over. robb's panicking. jon's sulking. #the whole of the north is currently hunting them down. cause y'know. the heir to winterfell suddenly dissapeared into the night with the- #ward and the bastard. it would be chaos. #and asha reuniting with her brother in their seal forms. it'd be cute. cause they're chubby little blops and they'd boop each other. #and theon having to decide if he wants to stay with his found family or escaping back to pyke with his sister now that he has the chance. #someone write this. take the idea. just tag me so I can read it #theon greyjoy #asha greyjoy #yara greyjoy #house greyjoy #throbb #vaguely. the potential is right there #got #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #selkies

[lover-of-mine]

i'll come tackle the monsters

Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)

Word Count: exactly 4.5k lol

But Buck didn't seem ready to talk. He just shifted, moving so he could drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, before nodding slightly and hiding his face on his neck. That is also new, Buck allowing himself to seek comfort. So Eddie waits, lets his hand find Buck's hair, fingers lazily moving through it until he relaxes against him. “I thought you were dead,” Buck mumbles into his skin, still hiding, almost as if he's hoping that if he stays like this, it can't hurt him. “It was just a bad dream,” Eddie tries to reassure him, fingers still moving on his hair, but he shakes his head. “No, not- not now, I mean, yes, in the dream too, but when you- I thought you were dead. You went down and you were looking at me, but then you weren't and I- I thought you were dead,” Buck explains and Eddie breathes out a soft oh once he understands what he means. “We never talked about it, about how it was for you,” he says, carefully, because even if Buck seems to be in a more open mood, he knows how fast he can shut down. or Buck has a nightmare and they talk about the shooting.

read it on ao3

#911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie #buddie fanfic #writing #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #911fics #nightmare fic #shes done #go me oskaoskaosk #i did not delete it #i kinda really like the end result here #also i am giggling to myself #because i have a very bittersweet fic were eddie is pining and he's thinking about different more kinder universes #and one of the things he thinks about is leading buck to his bed after a long day #and the setup here was to perfect not to give this eddie that vision as true #just so a version of him had that #and thats like legit my least popular cause it doesn't have a happy ending #but i love it so much so i had to do it #and im commenting because no one will notice but i want it to be known lol

[floydsteeth]

new oc!!!! Meet Odilia Elodie Lucinenne Abreo

Info on her down here (still a w.i.p will be updated as i go(im lazy ok and over excited to show her off even if shes underdeveloped))

Pairing: Leon (might change)

Age: 30

Backstory(kinda): Odilia is the youngest of 4, daughter of to earl Guillaume Abreo, having grown up in a loving household she was lucky enough to have an identical education as her brothers quickly excelling in math, science and gaining a huge fascination for astronomy, a field which was rather under developed in rhodolite. While yes her education was identical to her brothers, being a lady meant along with her tutor she had a governess teaching her of the more lady like things, the extra hours of learning were exhausting but she gained a love for the arts, and learned how to paint as well. At a young age she had managed to succour a position in an academy in the capital, her family residing closer to the border with bentonite, moving to the capital expecting only to stay for a few years, before moving back home to be married so she throw herself into her studies, she viewed these as her only years of freedome not being pressured to marry or debut in society, at the academy she started learning more literature and philosophy but her passions still lied in math and astronomy, she was surprised when she was given the opportunity to continue her studies in astronomy in rhodolites palace, she quickly accepted this opportunity thinking it would never happen again and seeing this as a way out of any possible arranged marriages. Living in the palace meant access to the library a place where she'd like to spend most of her time, but having only ever heard rumors of prince Chevalier she wasnt particularly enthusiastic to bump into him, but living in the palace makes it impossible to fully avoid the princes's. Even though she came to the palace for an education and an opportunity to start her research she quite enjoys the balls and social evwnts happening st the palace, realising that being a lady of science doesnt mean giving up being a lady of status as well, she will put her status of being a lady above her status of being a scholar, that doesnt mean she takes being a scholar any less seriously infact she takes it much more seriously for that reason, she needs to work less to be seen as a lady as she does a scholar.

Her relationship with leon: i honestly have no idea how they'd get together or why, i need to finish Leon's route :P

personality: shes a very headstrong, determind and confident woman, shes focused and goal oriented, curious and quite hardworking. she's social but not overly talkative, polite, perceptive and opinionated.

-More will be added soon-

@olivermorningstar @solacedeer @m-mmiy @keithsandwich @lorei-writes

Because i feel like you guys would wanna be tagged

#ikepri #ikemen fanart #Ikepri oc #Ikepri odilia #ikemen prince #Honestly i should of probably waited to writw more before postinf about her #I just got really really excited :P #ikemen oc #And pairing her with leon is kinda somwthing i did on a whim #I could just not pair her with someone sure #But i wanna #My oc i decide who she kisses #And like i said #Need to finish leons route before i fully decide if i want her to he with leon #Cause my perception of him is kinda flat #Uhm some people wanted to be tagged in this right? #Uhhh #Ok lemme remember who :^ #Also yes her name is a mouth full #No im not sorry #I fucking love giving ocs middle names #Middle names can be great for silly little things #Sorry its a bit short #Im bad at making character profiles #I made most of this up as i was writing

[small-spark-of-light]

some kc glows and co in these trying times

#incredibox #incredibox fanart #incredibox v9 #kc glow #asap bee #blue gt #i think this is the first time i drew blue ngl #he’s stylish :) #anyway kc i love you my little creecher #i wish people drew more official fanart #people can post what they want tho don’t feel forced by me #i’m writing another fic and it centers around him :) #it will take a while tho ;A; i am a slow writer as i’ve said #i’m proud of the kc and bee drawing cause normally is hard to draw people walking #drawing at least 20 figures every other day for months pays off #before my current routine i used to draw at least 20 figures Daily so i’m glad it’s helping :) #yes bee is wearing basketball shorts with is coat #i didn’t know what to do for his pants and i thought they fit the 90s aesthetic

[supercalime]

I’ve been lurking in the 911 tags for only a week and I’m already exhausted of most b*ddie shippers holy shit

#the annoying ones know who they are #this isn’t a personal attack #I truly don’t want them to become canon out of spite #why even tag your hate in the goddam tag dedicated to another ship #Tommy’s tag has a lot of hate and people talking about eddie how there’s clues etc etc #I haven’t been deeply involved in fandoms in the last few years for this exact reason #when it becomes too meta it kinda ruins it for me #people digging through interviews and trying to find evidence in situations that weren’t intended that way in the writing drains you #sorry to break it to you #but Bucky is into tommy and was since the beginning of meeting him #yall going #well actually #he’s in love with eddie but doesn’t know and misplaces it with Tommy #is tiring #I don’t know if b*ddie will be canon but not everything has to be about romance with them #they seem to have a connection that goes even deeper than romance #having them be a couple just kinda irks me #they don’t need to be two bros sitting in a bathtub five feet apart but they seem like soulmates in a way that I don’t see as romantic #I say as an aromantic person too #deep connections can be just as intense and interesting if even more than coupling up #obviously not tagging the ship name cause I’d be lynched if I do #and again this isn’t about the actual ship it’s more about the fandom and how they feel entitled to claim theories as facts #lety rambles #tommy kinard #tevan #tuck #911 #911 abc #911 show #bucktommy

[withdenim]

Man this house is fucked up!!! Who fucked these kids up!!

#I have so many feelings and headcanons about them #if Brooklyn isn’t cool and bisexual what is even the point #Kenji babygirl to ME #I want to write kenji’s real last name on here so bad but my friend follows this account and hasn’t gotten there yet #Sasha if you’re reading this don’t ask cause I won’t tell you what I mean #if Benjamin Fitzgerald Pincus is gonna blow shit up as much as he does #he should have hearing problems #and I don’t take criticism about it!! #do you ever wonder how Darius took care of his hair on Nublar cause I do. a lot #I imagine him trying more protective hairstyles when he’s older bc of that #curly hairs your Sammy Gutierrez #yaz’ hair is only braided bc Sammy wanted to braid it #anyways the headcanon tags are done you can stop reading :) #jwcc #jurassic world camp cretaceous #jurrasic world #Ben Pincus #Darius bowman #Kenji kon #sammy gutierrez #yasmina fadoula #Brooklyn jwcc #I know I use so many tags I have a lot of thoughts ok 💜

[frog-with-no-therapy]

I want a spider X dcu but have Peter working at the league's base in space as a mechanic or a scientist, cause of course they will have the best material and information to help him make a way home. Except that Peter is weird.

Like, weird weird. Like, spider bite kind of weird with a hint of different culture from a different world kind of weird.

Listen most of his interactions with humans in their world is with them cause he's at the watchtower all the time, so his understanding of what is normal is a bit skew, and he probably also got used to acting more spidery, especially when in a lab or sm (courtesy of his time at the avenger tower where he doesn't really have to hide his spidery side)

Then you take into account him having a different kind of humour and a different set of memes and you have the whole justice league thinking he's secretly an alien

#listen #i love spider man x gotham #and i will continue to read whatever fic that have a similar premise you throw at me #but like #i just think it would be neat to widen the horizon #like. just imagine it #the possibilities are endless #peter eats as much as he wants cause he once saw the flash eat three times as much as a normal human does as a snack #he is just a tad but more stronger because of it #and doesn't notice #but others sure does #kinda hard not to when the kid mend the door handles with his hands #he knows a bit too much technology wise #especially for someone his age #but that's must be fine cause these guys have this amazing space base and computers and all #yeah it's a bit outdated to him but it must be cause they are cutting slack #cause being a hero doesn't exactly buy #meanwhile the league is like . what do you mean you made a new element #what do you mean you made a nano suit #what do you mean you have an ai assistant that can go through our firewalls like a knife through melted butter #what do you mean the microwave can now double as quick freezer #what do you mean #they are so confused by him #and unsure where to even start #spiderman x dcu #spider man x DC #peter parker #justice league #can someone write a fic please #would have done so but i suck at writing

[nelkcats]

Hood Assistant

Prompt Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Next Ao3

Part 5

-----

It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do

------------------

Jason couldn't help but feel a surge of protection towards the boy in his arms, he looked so fragile as he tried to stop himself from shivering and snuggled into his chest.

Even though he should feel uncomfortable since they had only met for a couple of days, he didn't push him away, on the contrary, he hid him. Maybe it was some kind of newfound instinct but he wasn't comfortable letting anyone see the cheerful boy in such a dull way, as if the world was trying to eat him up and Jason was his only refuge.

Strangely the pits began to respond to him, he could feel the fury running through his veins, but he wasn't trying to tear the boy to pieces as usual, it almost seemed like it was trying to protect him. His confusion lasted a couple of seconds before the world became clear to his eyes, everything became extremely dangerous, almost oppressive and he had to suppress a groan when he heard footsteps near his location.

Scarecrow had been distracted by the crow that kept leading him away from the alley by yelling and pecking, unlike his previous chatty self the little crow only said "Kar Kar Kar", in its own way the little bird knew the strange man was a threat and he was trying to protect his new family.

Although Jason couldn't see it, the shadows where they were began to darken, hiding them completely inside the alley, the only thing that could be seen with the naked eye were the bright toxic green eyes he was showing, which, instead of being obstructed by the gas mask, made a more ominous scene for the observer. Scarecrow felt a chill run down his spine as the temperature around him dropped but he brushed it off in favor of continuing to chase the troublesome bird.

—----------

On the other side of the city, inside the mansion the alarms from the Batcave were heard, something extremely rare at that time of day.

"Oracle to the Batcave, it's an emergency" was heard over all the communications.

Bruce quickly moved away from the press conference upon noticing the vibration in his watch, he used those seconds to ask what was happening, camouflaging the question as a cough; he didn't get very far before reporters surrounded him questioning if the millionaire had gotten sick after spending so much time renovating the community pool, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Tim was half asleep on his computer but the call jerked him up, he panicked realizing he had a meeting with Wayne Enterprises in an hour but concentrated on the information Babs was about to tell him, priorities (and a bit of responsibility dodging).

When they were going to the kitchen for a snack, two siblings noticed the alert, they rushed but after considering for a few seconds Cass pushed Dick down the stairs, Dick for his part did a somersault landing perfectly on the floor, his gymnastics skills weren't rusty at all.

"Smug" Steph complained from her place on the sofa, she had come to the mansion to visit Cass, but as was the unspoken rule: she had stayed a little longer.

"This is not the time for games, I need assistance in Crime Alley, Crane started his attack and Jason is compromised" Barbara said desperately over the comms, she needed help fast "Are you guys available?"

"It's 4pm, it's too early for the bats to come out" Steph yawned, she would have liked to go out and show off her status as the best member of the bats but her suit was at home, maybe she could find a spare on the batcave.

"And Gotham has never seen us fight during the day, well, most of us." Tim gave Duke a curious look after he had entered through the mansion gates.

"Oh no, you are not going to let me fight the madman alone" he frowned "I just came for my afternoon snack, I'll go back to my patrol after that"

"This is not the time to argue! I don't care if you paint your costume red or put on a clown nose, I need someone supporting Jason with Crane now" Barbara voiced with frustration in her voice "he has a civilian who succumbed to the fear gas and Scarecrow changed the formula, this is urgent"

"Well, I guess the bats will be out early today, it'll be a scary day" Dick joked, although he didn't feel so amused after hearing about his brother's situation.

"I can help with the formula from the cave, I'm not as good with the Batcomputer as Tim but I can do it" Steph affirmed, even if Spoiler didn't go out on the streets she was going to find a way to help.

"Why? I can manage the computer from here while you go out on the field, Scarecrow's greatest strength is his formula so bats with masks integrated into the suit should be a better option" he stated confidently.

"Master Timothy, I hope you're not planning on skipping your 5 o'clock meeting." Alfred scolded the boy gently from behind.

"There's no time for meetings Alfie, Damian's at school and I can handle the computer better anyway" he smiled.

"No, we are enough bats, you can go to your meeting and Steph can handle the computer in the same way as you, the important thing is to get to Jay, this is not up for discussion" Dick spoke while frowning slightly, perhaps it was his concern as an older brother but he couldn't help but want to get to the place as soon as possible. Tim couldn't help but sigh at the tone and gave up on attending the absurd income meeting.

"Civilian, danger" Cass pointed out worriedly, the real issue wasn't saving Jason in this case.

"Yeah, I don't know how Jay ended up with a civilian but we have to get him out of there" Dick nodded "however, it's true that we can't go out that openly in the daytime, Duke do you think you can do something with that?"

"I can hide you," the latest addition to Bruce's adoption papers grumbled, "and focus on the crazy man while Jason is brought out."

"That will do" Barbara spoke a little more relieved "my break is about to end so I won't be able to help in such a direct way, but I will do my best"

"Okay, Orphan and Signal, it's time for the daytime operation" Dick spoke taking temporary leadership of the mission, he ignored the grunts of his siblings at the name "Spoiler, we'll be counting on you"

With that said, everyone went to the cave to take their respective suits; Except for Steph, who didn't really see the need to do it, and even if she was risking Bruce's wrath over the secret identities, she'd figure it out later, she was sure there wasn't much he could do considering she wasn't actually legally adopted, that would be a problem for her future self.

"It's a shame Jarro can't accompany us" Steph joked "seeing that he's in space and everything"

The other bats seemed distracted, from Dick she could understand it but she didn't know what Cass and Duke were thinking, the civilian? It was likely, she really hoped "the rescue" would go well.

—-------

Danny was scared, once the gas got into his system it didn't affect him like it would do on a human or one of the crows as it was originally intended to.

Hallucinations began to appear before his eyes, confusing themselves with memories, and his ghostly characteristics were more present than ever.

The only thing saving him from a complete transformation was Jason. He could feel Jason's gentle touch hiding him from the world, nestling his head on his chest.

Danny kept trying by all possible means to contain everything that could scare someone; He bit his lip, ignoring the sensation of his fangs gently piercing his skin.

Too ghostly for humans

Spectra's voice was heard perfectly in his head. Though years had passed since that incident, it had lingered within his memory, Jazz would have called it trauma, he wasn't so sure.

What are you?

He wanted to scream as the multiple times being called a monster or a threat played through his head. Until now he had no correct answer to that question, not since he was named a "True halfa" and Clockwork informed him that Plasmius was slowly dying.

Are you dead? That is cool! How did you die? Maybe you're a corpse and not a ghost, or a ghost zombie!

The innocent comment of a little boy brought him to tears, it was absurd. The "hero" Phantom had run away at that moment, he knew there was no way the boy would know that the memory affected him, that he could feel the flashes of electricity under his skin. Remembering the pain and the impotence, that didn't make it any better.

He remembered the nights he'd spent awake wondering if the accident had killed him, if he was really a ghost possessing his own corpse and was just prolonging the inevitable.

We don't need you! You are a threat!

Was there anything worse for a child than being rejected by his parents? Every time Danny heard Dr. Fentons yelling at him, whether they intended it or not, he felt the same way. If they told Phantom he wasn't necessary, Danny was the one listening to his parents, when Danny was shot, because they did not bother to repair the guns in his house so they wouldn't be pointed at him, he felt unimportant. What's the point of being showered with loving words while being stabbed through the heart?

You should leave the city

The only comment he pondered for hours. More than harming him, that random person made him understand that maybe Amity Park couldn't be his home anymore, maybe it was time to move on and stop being just Danny the Fenton creep or Phantom the hated hero. Perhaps it was selfish to want to be both.

Why do you always seek attention? We do not want you here and we will not fall for your games!

One of Dr. Fenton's comments flashed through his head, and Danny couldn't help but laugh as he sobbed into Jay's shirt, probably looking as pathetic as he felt. He hated the attention, he hated it so much.

"I didn't want to be a hero" he murmured, although his words were hardly understandable at that moment "I didn't want, I wanted to live, why did it have to be me? Why did they force me to protect them?"

Danny continued to babble on in frustration, the only reason he kept acting like the hero was because of Sam and Tucker, but he always thought it was unfair. Why did the whole town expect a dead child to protect them? Why were they not doing anything when they saw him bleeding ectoplasm in the middle of the street? Why didn't they stop the Fentons when they were developing dangerous weapons or talking about skinning him alive?

When did the living stop caring about the dead? Despite all that he did for the city, very few took into account that he was still a child, a child with too much responsibility, a child too wounded, who continued to heal others.

The situation was absurd. How many more times would he have to pick up his broken heart, praying that it could stick again even if they stole pieces? How much more could he ignore how the city never offered to give him a proper resting place?

He recalled a time as Phantom, in one of his weak moments remarking to a reporter that he never had a grave or proper rest. The rumor spread but apart from Mr. Lancer and some classmates giving him flowers, nobody did anything.

It was stupid really, but ghosts needed graves, graves were symbolic to them, it meant you died but you were loved. That no one noticed his death, the fact no one mourned him, had always felt like a void inside his soul. A void begging for affection.

But what was he supposed to do? Ask Jazz, who had her own coping methods, to lay a grave for his half-alive brother? Did he have to remind his best friends that the portal killed him? Perhaps it did it wrong, or halfway, but he died, undoubtedly.

Sam and Tucker liked to ignore the fact that his friend had come in screaming and came out in ashes. They saw it as a setback, and Danny understood, he wasn't going to spiral them into guilt just to make himself feel better, it was unfair.

"Will you leave me too?" He questioned raising his bright eyes to look at Jason "Are you going to break my heart? I'm warning you: I don't know if I can keep fixing it"

Jason gasped at the blue-green look in the boy's eyes, he could feel the anticipation, the way he was waiting for a positive answer. And he realized that no one had the right to destroy a person that much, because he had a feeling that Danny hadn't done that to himself.

But he could see the signs, he could see how this boy with teary eyes and fear of rejection was the same boy who had walked in without a care in the world to serve a bowl of soup to orphaned children, he could see how he needed approval, positive affection; And that maybe hit a little too close to home, because he knew he wasn't the one to give him those things.

"I won't leave you alone" he chose to reply "but you shouldn't offer your heart to strangers so easily Doll"

"It's funny that you say that" the halfa commented sadly "because you're not a stranger, honestly I gave it to so many people that I don't know how much is left of it, I'm sorry if I'm defective"

"No." Jason's grunt startled Danny, who turned to look at him in alarm.

"No?" He asked confused, for some reason Jason's neon green eyes sent him a sense of security, something inside him screaming protected, safe. To the point where he didn't actually wonder if his eyes weren't a different color earlier.

"No, people are not defective because they are not objects" although he was wearing the gas mask it was obvious that he was frowning "I don't care how many stupid things people told you, you are not defective, you are just human and if you have the nerve to say i'm worth it, I can give you back the same fucking feeling, you cute motherfucker"

"Does that mean you don't want it?" The boy asked instead. He didn't want to have another existential crisis over his humanity when he was barely conscious with the effects of the gas, he felt so drugged. Though his heart definitely sped up at the other's words, did Jason believe he was worth it? he'd have to talk to Johnny about it later, and yell for a while, if he was lucky enough to remember.

"Although I'd love to have it, I'd like you to save it for someone who can take better care of it" Jason spoke, noting that the boy wasn't concentrating on the positive things "you're not in the right state of mind right now Doll, don't do things you'll doubt later"

"But I-"

Their conversation was interrupted when they heard voices in the distance. Jason got back into a defensive position as Danny hid in his chest again, barely controlling the memories that threatened to flash before his eyes. He couldn't succumb again, he had to remember: Jason was safe, Jason was safe.

—--------

The moment Duke arrived on the scene he felt a chill run down his spine, the light and darkness in that whole part of town just felt incorrect, and a feeling of wrongness ran through his body.

"I didn't know it was getting cold in Gotham," Dick complained as he rubbed his arms in an attempt to keep himself warm. He momentarily wondered if Crane was working with Freeze.

"Focus, mission, find brother " Cass motioned to both of them, putting on the gas mask and adjusting it correctly around her face; the language was still a bit confusing for Cass, she was used to having her intentions read through their fights so expressing it in words was always tedious. That's why she usually chose to speak in shorter sentences, to the point instead of winding around, a bit the opposite of her older brother in a certain way.

"You're right, we're getting closer to the place marked by Oracle" Dick nodded as he headed into one of the alleys, both he and Signal had their gas masks on. It was then that he heard noises near one of the alleys.

He leaned out to see the cause of all the fuss and saw how his route was divided in two, on the one hand Cane was fighting with a crow? On the side of the road, looking completely exasperated and furious, Dick honestly took pity on the animal.

On the other side shadows seemed to be covering the alley, although it was hard to see through the smoke, Dick could make out a familiar figure, who had completely toxic green eyes and was snarling at him, yeah, that could be a problem.

"I found Jay" he commented unsure, it was always risky to approach his little brother when he was affected by the pits. He honestly listened to his warnings more as a way to reassure his brother that he was safe, he wasn't afraid of him at all, no matter how much Bruce seemed to think Jason was a mindless being during the episodes.

Dick saw it from a different perspective, Jason "Pitter" Todd was a more primitive form (and Jay absolutely hated the pun Dick created, he repeated the word Peter at least eighty times before giving up), but he retained his consciousness, he didn't instantly turned into a mindless being who went for blood and guts, he was more of a very aggressive person who put instincts as the first priority, being very prone to acting out. Still, definitely Jason.

"We have a problem, Cass come with me and help me determine Jay's condition, Duke take care of Crane" Dick ordered over the comms, to deal with "Pitter" it was better to have Cass on his side, although he was considered more expressive, she was considerably better in reading emotions.

"Oh come on, I said I wasn't going to face the madman alone." Signal frowned, although he was relieved not to have to go near the glowing black hole he could see from where Jason stood, no, he'd heard enough warnings to know it was a bad idea.

"Dayshift" Dick sneered from the comms "we can't be as seen as you can, at least the alley can cover us but we cant help it”

Duke still grumbled as he walked to the opposite side of the strange shadows, where Crane could be seen frustrated with a small crow.

"Are you serious?" Duke questioned in disbelief as he watched the little bird beating one of Gotham's worst villains just by pestering him to death.

"What's next, an army?"  He asked mockingly, however he swallowed his words at the moment when he heard a "Kar" above his head, he looked up and felt hundreds of red eyes watching from the beams of the electrical cables "yes, excellent, an army of crows, exactly what we need for a Scarecrow"

"Kar, Kar, Kar" several of the crows began to sing, for a moment he wondered what they were doing until he turned his gaze to Crane, who was covering his suit as the crow pecked at him.

The little crow moved away from Crane to quickly fly with the others and as if he were a general in a speech he spoke "Kar, sacrifice, Kar", the crow flapped his wings looking determined.

Duke was genuinely concerned about what the crows were learning in Gotham, who had taught them the word sacrifice? And why were they so scary?

"You won't be able to beat me, aerial beasts!" Scarecrow yelled furiously, firing more of the gas. The birds were not affected as they only flew a little higher. Some of them looked genuinely murderous, though, so the gas might have caused a reaction in them.

"Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice" the crows began to sing in unison, Duke felt that he had become a spectator in a horror movie.

"Really, what the hell?" Duke questioned in dismay, he was supposed to write this on the report, dammit.

He moved a little out of the way when he saw the crows preparing to fly toward Crane. He knew what his battles were and this was not one of them.

Almost to confirm his point, hundreds of crows swooped down on Crane at once, pecking and effectively trapping him in one of the alley corners. When they finished him off, the villain had minor injuries all over his body and was surprisingly unconscious. Duke was internally grateful that Crane used so much protection or maybe they would have gouged out his eyes, crows were scary.

"Love, love, love" the little crow repeated happily, his attitude had changed the moment they defeated the villain but Duke had learned not to trust the little creature, small and terrifying.

"Yeah, thanks for doing my job for me, I think" Signal wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to the current situation "at least I didn't do it alone, I guess"

Almost as a signal, the crows withdrew and the scary little buddy made its way to the alley where Dick and Cass were possibly standing, well, that was no longer his problem.

His day shift was officially over, better turn Scarecrow over to the police, he would have to tell Bruce to control Arkham in case he tried to escape again. But his current priority was the pancakes Alfred had in the fridge, without a doubt.

He collected a sample of Crane's gas as he returned, he was sure there would be a couple of casualties by the end of the day so it was best to give Steph a sample when he got to the mansion. Also because of the aggressiveness of the crows, he could add some negative side effects to the birds as a consequence for the new fear gas formula, honestly Duke didn't feel like dealing with bloodier crows than normal.

—--------

"Scared, out of it, protective" Cass informed Dick as soon as he was a few feet away from where Jason seemed to be snarling at him in full rage, although he wasn't quite sure as the mask muffled the noise. This reaction was a bit more intense than he had expected at first, but he still felt that he could deal with it.

"It's fine Little Wing, it's me" Dick held up both hands, a sign that he was obviously unarmed, it was better to treat Jay the way Damian treated the feral cats at the animal shelter. Not that he was going to tell Jay that, ever.

"It took you long enough, bastard" he answered annoyed, but still not loosening his grip on Danny, who seemed to be shaking more the more people got closer, how did he know? One more mystery among many.

"Yeah, sorry, we were a bit busy when the alert came in" Dick sighed "now, if you can hand me the civilian"

"No" was the quick answer.

"No, don't leave me, no," Danny muttered, clinging closer to Jason's shirt, barely understanding what was going on in the conversation beyond a few sentences. He was wondering if he should buy Jay a new shirt, his brain felt so tired all of a sudden.

"Alert, danger, stay away" Cass signed from next to him, it was obvious that neither of them wanted to get away. Although strangely, Cass felt more aggressiveness from the civilian than from Jason himself at the suggestion.

The temperature dropped again, but most of them didn't notice, Dick sighed looking at Jay with a frown "What do you expect us to do Jay? Signal registered taking Scarecrow a few seconds ago"

"Go with him" Jason grumbled, if there was no danger, better, he could get out of the toxic air and take Danny away from there.

"Come on Little Wing, you know I can't leave you in this state" Nightwing denied, just as stubborn as his brother "What are you going to do when I'm gone?"

"Take Danny home" he replied, although the green in his eyes didn't shine as brightly, he still looked quite alert about the whole situation, any wrong move could bring the pits back to full.

"I assume you know the civilian" Dick muttered curiously "Okay but I'm still going to help you, where does Danny live?"

Although the question was said in a friendly tone, the silence that followed was definitely awkward, Jason couldn't help but thank the gas mask, at least that way they couldn't see the embarrassed blush spreading all over his face. He was purposely ignoring that Cass would know for sure, she wasn't a snitch

"You don't know where he lives, right?" Dick asked, knowing that kind of silence all too well.

"It's none of your business," Jason complained, although the friendly interaction seemed to be taking him out of his fury.

"That's my business, where are you hoping to take him? One of your safe houses?" He teased, though his brother's silence was definitely revealing "wait, you're not being serious, are you sure you didn't inhale some gas?"

"I'm sure Big Bird, so shut up, go help with the damn antidote and call me when it's ready," Jason said annoyed, carefully getting up from where he had lain down to give Danny more comfort and starting to walk away from them.

"Not a good time, let it go" Cass signed to her older brother, she detected a lot with that little interaction and thought that the explanation required a complicated sentence to clarify.

"I understand Cass, I'm just worried" Nightwing sighed sadly, he wasn't looking forward to telling B anything.

"Understandable" Cass nodded. It was normal that after bringing Jason back, his "old" family would become attached to him, that could be bad in the long run if Jay refused to clarify things, but it was none of Cass's business. Even if she loved her family, she couldn't express feelings for them, it was better to let them figure it out.

No one noticed Shadow leaning out curiously and watching Jason take Danny away before deciding to disappear, taking the darkness that had settled in the alley with them.

—-----

"Amorpho, I need a favor" Johnny called the ghost through his ghost phone, he wasn't going to call it Fenton phone 2.0 because Technus would be extremely offended.

"Not even a hello? Why should I listen to you?" Amorpho questioned curiously from the other side of the line.

"You can pretend to be Danny and visit the human world" the blonde ghost bribed.

"Tempting, tell me more about this favor" Amorpho said, it was not a secret that he enjoyed imitating the halfa.

"Well, the boy has to attend classes, but his crush apparently kidnapped him and he can't" Johnny explained quickly, he had been worried for a few seconds but Shadow assured him that the halfa wasn't in danger. However Johnny remembered Danny's insistence on his attendance.

"You want me to pretend to be him and attend classes?" Amorpho questioned in disbelief, he had better things to do with his time "And what do you mean with kidnapped?"

"That doesn't matter, but yes, If you accept you can do whatever you want as long as nobody dies after it" Johnny assured, Danny owed him a favor for all the work.

"Whatever I want? Okay, you have a deal" Amorpho agreed, though he still had questions about the kidnapping part.

"Great! I will call Wulf to open the portal to the university, your first class is advanced physics, good luck! Don't forget that you already accepted!" The blond hung up the call before the other ghost could react.

"You mean right now? What the hell is advanced physics? JOHNNY-" By the time the ghost reacted it was too late.

"I think that went well" The blond smiled.

—------

For his part, Jason was grateful to his siblings for being on time. He hated the situation he had inadvertently gotten himself into, but he hated more that Danny was sacrificing himself like it didn't matter. How dare he? He was going to smack the bastard with self-esteem even if he forced it.

He couldn't show it correctly because his head was still filled with that need for PROTECTION before the boy he had in his arms. Jason sighed, deciding to carry him in his arms princess style. Personally he preferred the potato bag style on his shoulder but Danny had been very displeased at the suggestion to get off his chest. Which shouldn't embarrass him nearly as much as it did.

Danny felt calm listening to Jason's heartbeat, it relaxed him as the illusions momentarily disappeared from his head. Jason was the solid ground of him, corny as it sounded.

"I want you to know that this is your fault" he claimed to the boy in his arms as he threw the gas mask to the side of the room once he got to the safe house "but since I don't know where the hell you live you're going to stay here until the antidote is ready"

Jason tried to separate Danny from him then, but every time the boy went more than 5 minutes without finding him he would start to panic and show obvious signs of Scarecrow's hallucinations. Jay was undoubtedly upset to see the bubbly boy turned into a dependent anxiety bag.

Curiously, from the bedroom window a crow could be seen sleeping peacefully, although no one was paying attention to it, the bird looked happy with that arrangement, without noticing the intruder, the boys continued talking.

"Okay Doll, you win, I'll sleep here tonight" Jason finally relented "but we should wake up early tomorrow for a nice breakfast, okay?"

Danny nodded, feeling better now that both of them were in bed and he could hear the boy's heartbeat again. He wriggled in an attempt to get into Jason's arms, where he felt safe and warm.

"You're really persistent" Jay complained, but he let him do what he wanted anyway "What's wrong cutie?"

"I didn't want you to go away in the middle of the night," Danny murmured looking worried, Jason swore he saw one of his eyes being more of a greenish blue for a few seconds, he wondered if he was seeing things "Are you leaving?"

"No, for now I do not intend to do it" the man sighed, wondering if he should add eye color to the long list to investigate "rest, I promise I'll be here in case someone bad comes, okay?"

"Okay" with one last sleepy yawn Danny settled back to listen to the heartbeat of his love interest "I hope Hood doesn't get mad at me"

"He won't find out," Jason teased, feeling a little amused "and if he does he'll have to get over it."

Stroking the boy's hair as he slept, Jason noticed a few familiar white strands tucked strategically behind the black hair. It gave him a bad feeling.

He decided to address his suspicions at another time, when memories of Danny forcing himself not to shake wouldn't flicker in his mind, when the expressive blue eyes didn't look so empty and sad inside his memories, and the sound of his laughter wouldn't change to sobs inside his mind.

Jason knew trauma well, and he wasn't overly happy to admit he recognized Danny having one. He ran his fingers gently over the boy's hand, Danny obviously hurt himself to stop the fear if the marks were a sign. He wondered why only one of his hands was hurt, but when he caught a glimpse of a large scar he decided not to push his luck so much. He needed to learn to wait, and maybe trust Danny a little bit, just a little bit.

I'm going to show you that you're worth it Cutie Doll, even if it takes me all my life.

--------------------------------------

Aaand tag time, but first a little clarification: Crane's fear gas was destined to kill the crows after a time to take the gas in their bodies (as an infection) but since it was a prototype, it failed, the crows only became more aggressive; Anyway, the fear gas was destined to affect humans too, this part was a success, except that Danny is not completely human, right? double ups.

The effect worked halfway into him, causing hallucinations but of memories he fears, he is able to resist it if he focuses on something that anchors him to reality (but he is very tired of the mental effort); That is why sometimes he seems lucid and sometimes not, he is a very drugged and sensitive halfa!

@skulld3mort-1fan@sorryiwonnoob@idfk-man10@avelnfear@criticaloverthinker@confusedandghostly @lunadoll36 @spidey29phangirl @suppengott @yjfk@apointlessbox@mimilikey@thegatorsgoose@jaggedheart11@dyinggirldied@pyramaniac@akikkobara@thedragonqueen1998@lostlightandfoundcrazy@xye-chan@saltyladynightmare @ashleysmshly @thewondersoflebanon@illusionwolfwriter24r8@littlefeather345@asphyxia778@amercurio@leftmiraclechaos @dixiwoods @satoshy12@lyra689@meira-3919@quietlyscared@plotwholls @kyrianclawraith @blacksea21090@basilf1res @flowers-n-fauna @8-29pm@phantom-dc@luer-mirin@taniaundertaleau@cloriform@readerkayden@oddlydrawnpuppets@basementloser@little-green-asparagus@echoednonny@yummy-yummy-mmmbones@confusionchaos@ectoplasm024@autumnwulf@666deaddash999@redhoneysugarorange@blue-avis@sailor-goddess@satanicrutialspecialist

#danny phantom #dp x dc #danny fenton #dc x dp #jason todd #dead on main #jason todd x danny fenton #Hood Assistant #Crows won another time #sorry Crane #Poe the crow will continue following them #this is a little angst #but after this is all hurt/comfort #Jason wants to return the favor #If Danny can't see his own worth he will show him #Danny is a little sad here cause of the memories #Don't worry #he will get better #surprised that I didn't write more about Johnny this time #Johnny thinks he is a solver maker #he is not #he is causing problems accidentally #First Danny and the Bats interaction #I'm not sure if it counts cause he was extremely drugged tho #Jason is starting to believe a little on Danny #Danny will totally remember the Hood part tho #Still they are both helping each other with trauma and that's amazing #Duke had nightmares with crows that day

[scoliosisgoblin]

Do you still draw YB content? What do you think of day 4?

yeah I still draw yb, majority of my stuff is yb rn. I just mainly draw a human version of him

I'm not a patron to the creators (I don't fw them) so I can't play the game and have to go off of videos and spoilers, so here's my thoughts so far (SPOILERS OFC):

- love the point and click style they're going for, I enjoy those games a lot so I am biased

- I'm a fan of Peter letting yn walk around and explore things at their own pace. when I'm in a new home or a friend's place, I often need to be left alone to allow myself to settle in and tend to feel smothered if someone's always over my shoulder when exploring etc (it also reminds me of when I got my cats and left them to wonder around on their own)

- what the fuck are windows 🙏🙏🙏

- apparently you both sleep together if you do the kind route??? WHAT WHY. I HATE THAT. PETER IS REALLY OUT OF CHARACTER FOR THAT 💀💀💀 I always thought of him as the type of guy to want his first time to be special tf was that?? (I'm also asexual so obv I'm not exactly looking forward to that type of stuff)

- I find it cute when Peter's working, autism be damned my boy can type!!!

- it's also super cute he gave us the bigger room and kept the small room for himself. also are all the stuff in our room stolen from us or did he buy the same/similar stuff?

- I love Rat, hope she gets more love and attention going on in the game 🙏🙏🙏

- also apparently you get to vaguely see files of pictures he took of you and he refuses to show it to you for some reason? or maybe that's not day 4? idek I hate that, Peter would show it off if anything

- the end of day 4, abusive route, I kinda like that? it's very interesting to me, how he'd do all that. I hate that he make yn nude but what the fuck am I supposed to do about it 🗿

Conclusion: lot of things to love, the writing is still something I'm not a fan of though

#I just feel like it's all so rushed #Peter just feels so off and I get that it's “supposed to be like that cause it's a horror” or whatever #but that's literally going AGAINST HIS OWN LORE #and I KNOW it's a demo I'm just saying that the writing is KINDA.... #I think the dialog is fine i just hate the pacing (coming from an impatient writer btw) #again though I'm just going off of spoilers and some videos I've seen #I'm happy with how things are going I guess I just wish it took more than 3 days to be kidnapped #I wish it didn't take 4 days to sleep with him #if you want me to explain anything more then go ahead and ask whatever :P #asks #peter yb #yb game #yb peter #your boyfriend peter #your boyfriend game #peter dunbar #Your boyfriend day 4

[vani-ash]

KP X DFF AU

(Takes place around events of ep 7 DFF and end of Kinnporsche)

(inspired by I re-watched ep6 of DFF and somehow missed that they sing TSICY on their way to Pors house on my first watch)

Somehow Non and Chay run into each other and they look identical. Chay, wanting to have some time away from the mafia he's become apart of, comes up with the idea after hearing Nons story to switch places. Non is reluctant at first but when Chay promises he can help solve Nons problems he agrees (Non doesn't fully trust Chay and leaves out some details like Mr Keng and Phee).

Chay has a Theerapanyakul mafia ring that he uses when the mafia guys come after him to get them to leave him alone, he also has access to mafia money that he tries to use to help Nons family as much as he can without causing suspicion. Chay is disgusted by how Nons 'friends’ treat him but Non had said he wanted to finish his movie so Chay plays along with them for now.

And Then whatever happens causing Non to disappear happens to Chay instead.

Non was told by Chay that if he went to the compound he’d be able to just walk in, he’s nervous but he does and when he’s engulfed in a hug by a stranger he feels a little better. He recognizes the man from a photo Chay had shown him, Porsche, who was worried because Chay disappeared and lost his bodyguards for a few hours.

Chay had told Non that he wasn’t speaking to his brother or anyone else really so if he did nothing but stay in Chays room the whole time he’d be fine and no one would question or really bother him.

Then Non gets a knock on his door, it’s Kim, he was trying to apologize to Chay about his song being stolen and that it wasn't him that released it and he didn’t mean for it to happen.

(Someone on Kims team finds a demo Kim made of Chays song (tsicy) when he was helping Chay record it, and releases it under Wiks name without Kim’s consent. Because Kim hasn’t released any new music since his break up with Chay and his company wants new music from him.)

Non feels bad about how distraught Kim sounds, and lets him in. Kim hadn’t expected for Chay to actually let him in, it’s been a month since Kim had been this close to Chay and so the first thing he does on impulse is hugs him. Non, currently still processing the worst week of his life, doesn’t push Kim away causing Kim to kiss him.

Anyway Kim somehow finds out that it wasn’t Chay who forgave him and that Non isn't Chay and demands Non tell him where Chay actually is and when they show back up everyone is confused (because they killed him like 3 weeks ago or something) and is like WTF?! But when Non just acts like nothing happened they don’t bring it up, and so now Non and Kim have to figure out what happened to Chay.

#might add to this when dff is finished and we know more #i just really want to see non be happy and okay for a little😭 #porsche adopts his brothers imposter easily #when chay starts being friendly to everyone again randomly they dont question it they are just happy hes 'back to normal' #when non starts being assertive and not tolerating anyones bullying it gets SO much worse and Chay doesn't think that they'd actually #kill him. so hes a little unprepared to try and protect himself #idk its kinda hard to write an ending to this when idk where the shows going #where is phee in all of this your asking? #idk i assume he disappeared for a little while until he stops being mad at non and concerned about his disappearance #phee and macau do not look similar in this cause idk what to do with that #dff #kpts #dead friend forever #kinnporsche the series #porchay kittsawasd #kim theerapanyakul #Non #kimchay #mine