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pinkinku · 5 months

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The Sun, The Moon, The Truth

pairing: death eater!draco malfoy x hermione granger

description: Voldemort is dead but that does not stop the war. Someone else has taken his place. Someone even more vicious than the Dark Lord. Hermione was just saved from his captivity, and she has no memory of it except the pain still lingering on her body. The memories are slowly coming back, but reliving the torture traumatizes Hermione furthermore. Once she's captured again, Hermione tries so hard, but she cannot hide these three things: the sun, the moon and the truth.

word count: 3k words, chapter 1 of 40

warnings!: memory loss, war, evil draco malfoy, psychological trauma, blood and gore, torture, rape/non-con elenents, dark, emotional manipulation, physical trauma, dragons, child-loss, dragon training, forced pregnancy, memory alteration, angst, hurt no comfort, infant death, death threats, possessive behavior, villain draco malfoy, use of cruciatus, use of avada kedavra

authors note at the very end.

fanart: @avendell

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Part I: Veils With Crimson Lining

Chapter 1: Arcanum

Darkness was a worm in her brain, eating at the white matter inside, annihilating all that she ever was on the way. Darkness was a parasite, feeding off her love and hatred, joy and sadness, and everything she ever felt. Darkness was a hungry beast, never to be full, never to be satisfied. Darkness was a numbing type of pain, the one that makes it hard to tell whether you’re alive or dead. Darkness was a loss of hope, loss of light, loss of meaning.

Darkness was where she found herself. And then the pain came.

Excruciating, blinding, deafening pain. It stung like a thousand needles and burned like a torch close to the skin. Pain was a sea, and she didn’t know how to swim. If eternity existed, it did solely to stretch out the pain and the dark. If there was hope, there was none for her. If God watched every and all of his creations, he had definitely abandoned her. If hell was real, she was in it.

Time was there somewhere, or maybe she believed in it, but time was a circle, a snake eating its tail, an eternal expansion of everything and nothing. She was there somewhere too – she had to believe that. she was the only believer in the religion that was herself. She had to be. Otherwise she might have disappeared. Gone like smoke. From dust to dust. She believed, therefore she existed.

It was difficult to exist like that. When there was nothing else but that pain and that darkness and that silence. Something was being annihilated inside of her as she floated like that in the space that was not. She had to save that something, protect it—or maybe she was the one supposed to destroy it? Alas. It was happening. She was happening. She believed it.

She was breaking. You promised you wouldn’t break. She didn’t know why. She was a pencil drawing on a white piece of paper and someone was erasing her – the feet, the legs, the sternum, then each of her hands. But her head—

She was sand in an hourglass, and bits and pieces of her fell – smoothly, quickly. When all of her had gone down, the hourglass would switch up and she, the sand, would be falling piece by piece, muscle by muscle, bone by bone, blood droplet after blood droplet, to the other side. And again. And again, and again.

She was the drowning island, and she was the ocean waves that were taking more and more of the island with every ebb and flow. She, the ocean wave, would burst on the island and drown a piece of it in its depths. She, the island, would try to keep the remaining pieces of herself safe, even knowing that soon she will all be consumed by the waves.

She was an eternity of numbers, being counted from one to the end, but there never was any end. Her being was a digit with so many zeros there was not a name yet for that kind of number.

In the beginning was the Word. She didn’t know what words were, didn’t know what that Word was, but she knew. She was drowning, but now she knew which way to swim. The Word was strange, it was confusing and meaningless, but that was in the beginning. Hermione. Someone said it. Hermione.

Then there was Light. A Light that battled the Darkness. A Light that battled eternal recurrence, promising a freedom of cessation.

Pain was still there. Although different. A kind of pain that made her realize she was alive. A kind of pain that made it feel meaningful. Because it was for something. Because it promised a feeling of relief in its absence.

She opened her eyes for the Light and heard the Word being spoken.

“Hermione.”

Her eyes fluttered open but she saw everything through a film of fog as if her eyes weren’t used to seeing.

“Everybody, leave,” the voice commanded.

There were more people. They were now leaving.

“Hermione, can you hear me?”

She realized that whoever spoke was talking to her.

She did not have a voice, she did not know any words yet, so she didn’t say anything.

She blinked, once, twice. Her vision cleared. She saw a man in front of her. He had dark hair, a stubble, glasses.

“Hermione, how are you feeling?”

She opened her mouth, grateful to have lips. She breathed in and breathed out, but no sound came out. She tried again.

“Hurts,” she gritted out. There it was, her very first word. It perfectly encapsulated her current existence.

“I’ll give you some pain potion, it should lessen the pain,” the man said. He took a bottle of a yellow potion and reached it out towards her.

She realized she was in a bed. But she couldn’t move. So the man stood up from where he was sitting and helped her up very slightly, so she could drink the potion. When her body was moved, her muscles spasm, setting on fire. She hissed in pain, but the man held her head back and she opened her mouth to let him feed her the potion. It was a disgusting drink, but it warmed her up a bit and some of the tension was immediately relieved. She closed her eyes. And opened them again, frightened by the darkness she met there.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

She stared at him. She saw him, took in every single detail, but that’s what it remained in her head – pieces of puzzle, but never the full picture.

“No,” she whispered because shaking her head was too difficult.

The man seemed genuinely concerned, his dark eyebrows drawn together.

“Do you remember who you are?”

She thought. But thinking was impossible when she had nothing to conjure a thought with. She could tell him that she was Hermione, because that’s how he addressed her, but it could be wrong, so she just repeated, “No.”

She studied his face. He turned his head slightly, and a scar that reminded lightning glimmered on his forehead.

“You’re Harry,” she said finally.

He looked at her, eyes glinting.

“What else Hermione?” he asked encouragingly.

“You’re my friend.”

He nodded with a soft smile as if he didn’t dare to fully smile yet.

“Yes. Yes, I am. And you? Do you remember now?”

She frowned, looking down at her hands. There was a silver ring on her left hand’s fourth finger. She touched it. The ring was warm, warmer than her skin. It had an emerald eye in the very middle of it, and it seemed to be watching her.

“I’m Hermione,” she said, not because he was addressing her like this. “Hermione Granger. I’m a witch.”

His eyes were sympathetic.

“Do you remember anything else? It’s okay, take your time to think. I don’t want to push you. We have all the time in the world.”

She took her time. Five minutes turned to ten. The piece of puzzles that were her self slowly put themselves into their respective places of the puzzle in her mind.

“You and I, we went to Hogwarts together. It was a school of magic, for witches and for wizards. You and Ron are my best friends.”

“What about your parents?” he inquired.

Hermione looked into his green eyes.

“They are muggles. They don’t have any magic. But, somehow, they had me. And I’m a witch,” she repeated, as if still unable to believe it. “I had to obliviate them when the war started. Delete their memories about me. To protect them.”

“What war?” he asked insistently, wanting her to keep going.

“The war with Voldemort. The one we are fighting right now. We are trying to beat him, find all of his horcruxes and destroy them. We still haven’t succeeded. But we will.”

She believed it. Therefore, it was true.

Harry leaned back in his chair. “The most vital memories about you are present, Hermione, that’s very good. But not all of it is true. It used to be, but it’s not anymore.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Hermione, what is the last thing you remember?”

She peered into the tapestry wall before her. There was fire, there were hexes thrown from all sides, there was a castle…

“I remember the battle at Hogwarts. We were fighting, we would’ve won but we couldn’t find the last three horcruxes. It was too late by the time the actual fight started. You fought Voldemort, but you knew you weren’t going to win, so you escaped. Me and Ron ran with you. Everyone from the Order and the rest in the castle had to run away one by one otherwise they would’ve been killed. We lost that battle, but it wasn’t all lost… Harry, did—did something happen then? Was I hurt and that’s why I’m in so much pain? Is that why I can’t remember—”

Harry’s face darkened with every word she spoke.

“Isn’t there anything else you remember? Something more… recent?”

Hermione took the time given to her to turn the pages of her memory book. There was nothing else. Most of the pages were empty. She was euphoric when she found a single page with a sentence, but there was nothing Harry wanted of her. She turned her head to the side, implying a shake.

“Hermione, what you’re describing happened almost ten years ago.”

She numbed.

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” she spoke in a dead voice.

There wasn’t a tool in her head yet to gather and analyze that information.

Harry leaned into her.

“There was a war, that’s true, and it was with Voldemort. That war was long and painful, it cost so many lives… Voldemort was killed off eventually, but the war didn’t end there.” Hermione frowned because he didn’t say he was the one who killed Voldemort, and that made her wonder who did it. “You see, someone else took his place. Someone even worse, if you can believe it. Evil is systematic after all. No one knows who the new despot is. People call him the Phantom. He is evil and murderous, but unlike Voldemort, I still cannot gather his motivations. I understand it’s very confusing for you.”

Hermione was frowning so hard her head ached even more.

“I don’t remember any of it,” she admitted quietly.

Harry’s eyes filled with sadness.

“I’m so sorry Hermione. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you and this happened to you. You didn’t deserve it. The Phantom abducted you to get to me, to find out as much as he could about where I was because he, just like Voldemort, is obsessed with killing me. Do you remember him? Something about him? Anything that could help me identify him and end this war for good?”

She swallowed thickly and thought hard. Cold sweat gathered on her forehead. Her hands shook. Her stomach churned with anxiety. How could she forget such an important thing, an identity of someone who was a threat to her and her friends? How could she just forget it?

“I—don’t know…” she choked out.

“The Phantom had you for more than two years, Hermione. In that time, he managed to do a lot of damage. He tortured you, he raped and manipulated you. He made you believe things that weren’t real. I believe that the torture he put you through made you forget everything. But what I believe even more is that he obliviated you once he knew we would come to save you. You were in a comatose state for seven months, Hermione. No one could get to you. No healers or mediwitches could do anything. You weren’t dead, but you also weren’t here. I think your brain was trying to heal itself from what he did to you.”

Hermione heard the words, but it took a while for them to hit home. She realized what he was saying, understood he was talking about her, but the information seemed somehow separate from her, unrelated to her. But that was because she didn’t remember. It happened, and it was so painful she forgot.

Hermione’s fingers painfully formed into fists. He put his hand on the shaky fists.

“Now you know, but you don’t need to worry about any of it. You’re safe here. You’re home.”

That caught her attention. She looked around. They were in a bedroom. She remembered it, but through a fog.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“It’s the Order’s safehouse now,” Harry said. “It’s your maternal grandparents’ home. Unfortunately, they both died. At the hands of the Phantom. He made it his mission to live every single person who is your relative by blood.”

Hermione’s insides turned cold. She remembered her grandparents, although very distantly. They were old ten years ago, and now they were supposed to be older. How could someone kill innocent old people?

Only a monster could do it.

“Are my parents even alive?” she blurted out in a moment of panic.

“Yes, they are,” Harry spoke calmingly. “We are watching over them, keeping them safe. Nothing bad will happen to them.”

Hermione sighed with relief, but it turned into a sob. She wasn’t crying. She didn’t know how to cry. It was just a sound.

“I know this is too much to understand right now,” Harry said, standing up. “I’ll leave you to rest, you need to heal.” He put his palm on top of her head. “You’re going to be alright, Hermione. I promise.”

He was about to leave, but Hermione caught the hand that was touching her hair by the wrist.

“Don’t go,” she begged. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He looked back at her, eyebrows rising in surprise.

“I’m quite busy with the Order right now, but you know what, I think Ron would love to see you. He’s been terribly worried about you.”

Hermione nodded eagerly – anything but that darkness, that pain, that complete emptiness…

Harry left and Ron’s red head appeared through the door. Naturally, he looked a lot older than she remembered, and a lot more tired. She didn’t have so much time or stamina to inspect Harry’s looks, but Ron looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in at least a week, there were dark circles under his eyes and his face seemed ashen. He smiled sheepishly at her, as if he wasn’t sure how to react.

“Hey, Mione,” he greeted her.

“Hi,” she answered quietly as Ron sat down where Harry was sitting mere seconds ago.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Everything hurts,” she admitted. “It feels like I’ve been beaten up for days on end. Also, I’m very confused…”

“Harry told me you don’t remember practically anything.”

She frowned. “When did he tell you that?”

Ron blinked. “Just now, when I passed him. He said the last thing you remember is the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Hermione nodded. She shivered uncontrollably.

Ron leaned in, took her hands in his. His palms were warm, even hot, and the warmth they brought into her fingers was nice and comforting, but the feel of his touch was repulsive. She gathered it was normal for a rape victim to feel repulsed by skin-to-skin touch. She pushed through, gritting her teeth. Ron spoke up, and Hermione brought her attention to his voice.

“I was so horribly worried about you when you were away for all those years. I thought the Phantom had killed you, I wouldn’t sleep thinking what he was doing to you. Every day I would hope – no, dread – expecting your head in the mailbox. Or one of your limbs. I’ve been through hell, and even when we got you back, I still believed everything was lost because you weren’t waking up. But now you’re awake. And that’s what matters.”

While he spoke, Hermione’s eyes slid to their intertwined hands, and she saw the silver ring glitter in the low light. It was now even warmer than Ron’s fingers.

“Where did I get this ring from?” she asked.

Ron looked down at the ring too. Then up at her, his blue eyes somewhat darker than she remembered, his red hair somewhat duller.

“I gave it to you. Right before the Phantom took you. I’m surprised to still see it on you, I believed he would’ve taken it. But even Padma couldn’t take it off you when she needed to do the healing charms,” he laughed. “It seems your love for me is so great even the ring didn’t budge of your finger all those years.”

Hermione’s mouth went dry. “Did we—did we get married in the time that I don’t recall?” she asked almost timidly, fearing the answer.

“Oh, no, we didn’t marry,” Ron rushed to answer. Immediately after regret appeared in his eyes. “I mean, we didn’t marry, the ring was just a gift, but I—I never stopped loving you, Mione, not even after all those years we were apart.”

His words made Hermione more and more confused. He kept repeated all those years while Harry said she was abducted for only the two of them. Of course, for her those two years must’ve dragged for eternity while she was raped and tortured, away from everyone and everything she loved. It must’ve been hard for Ron too, not having her by his side…

“I’m sorry I’m asking such silly things,” she said, looking up at him. “I just don’t know anything, but I want to know…” she apologized.

“Don’t worry about it. I understand it is very hard for you. We’re both in this together and we’re going to get through it together, Mione.”

Ron touched her cheek tenderly, but she still flinched from the touch. He had to slowly retreat his hand.

“You’re going to get better, I believe it,” Ron said. “You will get the most important memories back, and the all of this will seem just a bad dream.”

He finished talking, and Hermione was afraid he was going to leave her alone – she didn’t want his touch but she didn’t want the solitude in the dark even more, so she asked, “Will you stay with me during the night? I don’t want to be alone…”

Ron smiled. “Of course, Mione.”

He slipped into the bed beside her but what respectful enough not to touch her. She was exhausted from everything she had just figured out. Sleep took her fast, and so did the darkness. She left the light on in the room and that was the only lighthouse for her mind to navigate by.

She believed she would survive this. She believed, therefore she existed.

To be continued...

#draco malfoy #dramione #dramione fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hermione granger #ao3 #archive of our own #fanfiction #fanfic #fanart #writing

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imliterallymoon · 8 months

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Ok! Season 2 done! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Like. I was expecting maybe some LIGHT lore with some more of the smaller connections being made but NOPE. And so, as per request, here is yet another summary (also be prepared for the theories I'm about to come up with. I'm THINKING)

-I want to live in pensiltucky

-okokokok TUNNELS

-oh Jon you IDIOT

-ok were getting a bit smarter

-Nevermind. We're stupid again

-other episodes: genuine, terrifying horror that have kept me up at night

Grifters bone: haha music so bad ears go BOOM!

-gonna be honest I don't understand ANY of this sectioned shit but like good for you man

-ooh tapes

-GERTRUDE

-Why mosquitos? Just why?

-ITS THE BOOK!

-lightning dudeee.

-ok this site some backrooms type shit

-LIGHTNING DUDE!

-bro lightning dude's my new favorite character

-ITS LIGHTNING DUDE!

-omfgomfgomfg THE DOOR. WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT DOOR.

-ok so MAYBE lightning dude isn't the best but he's still cool

-micheal IS a name, you are correct

-but is it YOUR name?

-and that's why we don't go to Italy, folks!

-what. the. fuck.

-It's JERED. AGAIN??

-why is there a pit?

-ooh, architecture:)

-oh God I hate the ocean

-WHAT IS IT WITH THiS SIMON GUY??

-'the hot one' I FUCKING CAN'T

-I still can't get over the fact that Tim thought they were together like DUDE they are both SO GAY

-let it be known that I saw 2 peices of cute jonmartin fanart and that combined with the beginning Rivalry dynamic has made them my otp

-and the heart to heart, that was ADORABLE

-Like listen, Jon is hot as fuck. But I'm no homewrecker

-also I saw someone say that there was LGBT romance so I am HOPEFUL

-ok so dude just CASUALLY FOUND THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA AND WAITED UNTIL HE WAS ABOUT TO DIE TO SAY SHIT????

-mood.

-god, more worms? Really?

-okok so there's astronauts now

-that's INTERESTING

-EVEN MORE CANNIBALISM

-don't we love sentient computers? Of course we do!

-oh this is some Coraline shit

-OH THIS IS SOME CORALINE SHIT

-JON THIS SOUNDS AN AWFUL LOT LIKE A SUICIDE NOTE

-JON???

-see this availability of axes is what caused that whole new ordeal

-okok at least Tim has some common sense here

- it's a first but we'll take it

-LIGHTNING GUY!

-oh lightning guy D:

-OKOKOKK

-WHATTHEFUCK

-JURGEN LIGHTNER?

-GODS???

-ELIAS????

-remember kids, smoking kills :,)

In conclusion:AAAAFJDJdajsrifsigcfskysUPFPUFDPYDPYFFFTGIG9YD85DT8T8SDT9D9TDYOYTFCYOYF

#moon's magnus #the magnus archives #magnus archives #help #jonathan sims #jane prentiss #martin blackwood #tma #tma elias #tma jon

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spotsupstuff · 10 months

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I have been encouraged by the fact that you seem to be tolerating my rants and I was literally JUST thinking about ancient hair so hi I'm invading your askbox yet again but this time with images to back up my chaos

here is a graffiti! Most likely of an ancient, judging by the humanoid stature, the stripes on its body, the little spots, the covered-up eyes (it bugs me how the ancients black out their eyes in artworks. I get that it's probably part of the whole 'abate thine self' mindset but I WANT TO SEE THEIR WHOLE FACES DAMN IT)

But this ancient is missing their tentacle-hair!! This leads me to believe that some ancients either straight-up lack this feature, have lost their tentacles somehow, or perhaps even choose to remove them.

While no other images (that I have currently found, there may be others) depict completely bald ancients, several show them no visible tentacle-hair.

Here is one of the tapestries:

The one on the right has very long and obvious tentacle-hair. The one of the left doesn't appear to have any (unless they do and I'm just blind). I would guess that this ancient just has the shorter variant of the tentacle hair, or be missing it entirely.

This image shows that ancients also canonically have tiny tails!!! This is shown by the ancient on the right, who appears to. um. not be wearing any clothing. My apologies for showing this indecency, it was either this or the Karma 2 tapestry.

Also their feet. Do not get me started on the pure confusion that is ancient feet.

Here is an image which you've shown several times now. In my opinion it's the best depiction of an ancient that we have. I refer to it as 'the holy grail of ancient imagery' (sorry, I'm a nerd).

This ancient has pretty darn short tenta-hair compared to some of the other art. Their bottom three tentacles have extra rings surrounding the little center dot which could be evidence at tenta-hair trimming (I'm kinda grasping at straws here but idk).

There are several other images depicting short tentacle-hair, but I honestly can't tell whether or not those images are actually ancients or just wacky blobs.

ANOTHER THING!!

This dude looks like a skeleton. Does that mean the tentacle-hair have little bones at its base????? The implications of this for the first graffiti I showed, with the ancient with no tentacle hair! The poor dude lost their head bones!

Before I slither back to my cave I would also like to deposit this graffiti:

It's clearly not an ancient, but it appears to have the tentacle-hair. Distant ancestor, perhaps? It may just be a very heavily stylized ancient (body modifications, maybe?) But I mean. Come on. That is pretty clearly some type of aquatic animal. And it looks vaguely like an ancient. ANCIENTS ARE OCEAN CREATURES. FIGHT ME.

This is all wild and rampant speculation, please correct me if I missed something, got something terribly wrong, or if none of this makes any sense whatsoever.

And my apologies for desecrating your askbox again. You may politely tell me to shut up at any point and I'll move my rampant speculation somewhere else

(and I just noticed that someone made Sparrows fanart. Why did I never think of doing this before arghhhh *runs off to find my drawing tablet*)

oh dear god why's there Bone in The Sasanka jaysus fuck video cult what have you done........

though honestly- if u're allowin my opinion- some things are most likely artistic choices. the skeleton hair thing is most likely to definitely an artistic choice of some dude goin "i wanna draw a cool skull but don't wanna miss out on the hair...- oh i know!"

the holy grail one is legit so fuckin good, gods bless- n i'm really sorry to bap at your straws, but yeah, that's probably not much

i can actually tell you for fact that those are attempts at gettin the end of the tentacle more defined/communicated to the viewer or it's leftovers of the sketch in some way. how am i so sure? cuz dear god.

shaking hands with this anonymous lost soul of an Ancient graffiti artist in these chilli's tonight

with feet i'm also pretty sure a lot of stuff is artistic interpretation tangling in! the most canonical feet pic glimpse we get are these

with the rest being so small EITHER cuz of that artistic decision shit or there might be another bound of body horror involved, from either cutting the toes off or doing similar feet binding technique that was a thing in real life China. i like to think the bottoms of their feet still have pedal disks that sea anemones possess n they gotta wrap 'em up like this to avoid sticking to floors cuz that shit is like suction cups

ah yes, karma three mural.... i've had that shit opened on my browser for a month now, i know that one intimately. yeah! that one is the culprit behind every single tail on an Ancient in the whole fandom n i adore it so much. the fact that it's so... sad (lookit the fuckin teeny nub, whatcha gon do with that) made me decide that the lower circles have more proper ones! and -tsk- AAAAAAHR who give a shit bout nudity up in this bitch, this just how we ball. all from the artistic, biological and religious sense, heavens know each time i draw Sparrows from behind without her jacket on i feel like i'm toeing Some kind of line. nudity is just a different kind of deal for them than for us culturally n i think that is super neat actually. taking things that are a given to us n flippin it all on its head is one of my favorite things to do, rule 180° bayyybeeee

n i do NOT mean this in a mean way, this is lighthearted but i'm JGSDKMCLKMKGKSDLCK i get handed a clam with a whale tale with lil geysers on top of it n told "this is Sparrows' great times 1000 grandpapa" JGSKLCKL

LIKE,,, NOT DISPUTING IT CUZ WHO THE HELL KNOWS ANYMORE. SEA ANEMONES WITH BIPEDAL BODY PLAN IS ALREADY SO FUCKIN WEIRD THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN. i just can't help but see some sorta looney tunes clam whale in it. -dreamy sigh- what if they had looney tunes-esque cartoons...........

but yes, these fucked up things Def came from the oceans cuz the oceans always spit out the strangest shit and i also adore to think that their whole society runs on water energy/steam so the connection of It Came From The Sea with that really tickles my worldbuilding enthusiast brain

#Spot says stuff #rw #n naaaaaaaah es cool whats inboxes for if not barking at other people #n absolutely dont feel obligated to draw any fanart or smth like that!!!! id be honored but as always: you do as you wish

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funishment-time · 7 months

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UTDP/Summer Camp: Sakura Ogami

in-game info from v3's UTDP Mode and Danganronpa S: Summer Camp AU, for fanart/fanfic inspiration etc. note that this is a "nice" universe where v3 goes to Hope's Peak and Junko never Junko'd.

this post details Sakura Ogami's scenes with others, as well as insights about her that these bits provide. there's a Lot, so jump on down under the cut.

(i hope to do all characters over time, so Hang Tight for your fave!)

> more UTDP/Summer Camp character databases <

SAKURA INSIGHTS:

Due to intense childhood training, never had time for entertainment (UTDP, School Festival 3)

Hitting a diamond with a hammer is apparently an "incredible core workout" (Summer Camp, Leon & Sakura)

Most small animals are afraid of Sakura, a fate she has accepted (Summer Camp, Sakura & Gundham)

Unaccustomed to children (Summer Camp, Maki & Sakura & Nagisa)

Plays the Demon Chief in a school production of Momotaro (Summer Camp, Summer Festival scenes)

Can split the ocean by punching it like a goddamn buff chick Moses (Summer Camp, With Swimsuits)

"I do not train for accolades." (Summer Camp, With Swimsuits)

"I will not inquire as to your circumstances, but I do not believe everyone should follow my path. A power may be used for fighting, but also for protecting, and at other times for introspection...You can snap an assailant's bone one day, and with those same hands help an elder carry groceries. Great power on its own is meaningless. The wielder of that power is what gives it meaning." (Summer Camp, Maki's Potential of Talent 1)

[Hina:] "I feel kinda bad relying on Sakura all the time… but there's nobody more reliable than her." (Summer Camp, Genocide Jack's My Future)

SAKURA AND OTHERS:

Appreciative of Hina's "energetic spirit" (UTDP, Winter 1)

Defends Hina's donut consumption to others (UTDP, Winter 2)

Accepts that Himiko is a mage and not a magician (UTDP, Winter 3)

Relying on Sakura makes Junko so happy, it stack overflows back into despair (UTDP, Sports Festival 2)

Successfully comforts Keebo over not being able to work out, telling him that there are things only he can do and everyone has a weakness (UTDP, Keebo's Winter 2)

Nekomaru first met Sakura while she was training in the mountains, years before Hope's Peak (UTDP, w/ Nekomaru Nidai)

Would like to test her skills out against Kamukura (UTDP, w/ Izuru Kamukura and Monokuma)

Gets recommendations for classical music from Kaede (UTDP, School Festival 3)

Senses a "great disturbance in the air" when around Genocide Jack and/or Korekiyo (UTDP, w/ Genocide Jack and Korekiyo Shinguji)

Proud of Hina, and proud that she inspires Hina (Summer Camp, Hina's My Future)

Bonds with Kirumi when Kirumi helps her train and make a commercial to inspire young people to martial arts (Summer Camp, Kirumi & Sakura)

Kirumi and Sakura both worry about the Warriors of Hope, as well - Sakura sees "incredible potential, but a warped instability" in them (Summer Camp, Kirumi & Sakura)

Considers Leon a "rather unfortunate man" and is concerned about his future, like literally every other person in this AU hilariously (Summer Camp, Leon & Sakura)

Helps Celes when she hurts her foot, and in the most closeted twist imaginable, Celes wishes Sakura was "a handsome man" (Summer Camp, Sakura & Celestia)

Gundham's hamster Maga-Z is unafraid of Sakura, and in fact finds her comforting - she says Maga-Z can visit her whenever he likes (Summer Camp, Sakura & Gundham)

Gundham's nickname for Sakura: "She Who Reigns" (Summer Camp, Sakura & Gundham)

Akane would love Sakura's build, but Sakura feels Akane's "flexible build" is its own gift (Summer Camp, Sakura & Akane)

Ibuki thinks Sakura [and disguised!Mukuro] have "damn fine" bodies, and Sakura compliments disguised!Mukuro's slim build (Summer Camp, Sakura & Junko? & Ibuki)

Sakura is happy to provide advice to Ibuki for working out (Summer Camp, Sakura & Junko? & Ibuki)

Understands Junko's constant need to live up to her potential (Summer Camp, Junko & Sakura & Ibuki)

Doesn't trust Shirokuma (Summer Camp, Shirokuma's Potential of Talent 1) + (Summer Camp, Shirokuma's Campfire 2)

Monokuma offers himself up as a training partner for Sakura, genuinely, and she accepts (Summer Camp, Potential of Talent 1)

Enjoys Mahiru taking pictures of her, because she'd rather look back on her youth with fondness (Summer Camp, Potential of Talent 2)

Maki happily teaches Sakura a folk dance (Summer Camp, Campfire 1)

Kotoko also helps Sakura dance, as long as the "monster girl" helps her in return one day (Summer Camp, Kotoko's Campfire 3)

Sakura loves training with Tenko and admires her ability to be so "earnest" with her emotions (Summer Camp, Campfire 2)

Likes to watch the Workout Trio and how they combine training with friendship - they find inspiration in her too (Summer Camp, My Future)

Protects Hina and the rest of Class 78 when Monokid goes haywire (Summer Camp, Monokid's Hope)

#sakura ogami #ogami sakura #ultimate talent development plan #danganronpa s ultimate summer camp #danganronpa #utdp/summer camp insights

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izana-fanfics · 11 months

Text

Here (Izana x GN!Reader Oneshot)

A/n: This is a repost from my other account @/tokyo-revengers-writings

Warnings: Anxiety, astraphobia (fear of lightning and thunder), cursing

~~~

Izana was a man without any visible fear; I suppose that's why I found it hard to believe that he had any fear to begin with. Immortal Izana, scared of thunder. The thought never crossed my mind that someone as strong and stoic as Izana could be scared of something so trivial as lightning. When Kaku told me, I could've sworn he was joking. Surely he had to be joking.

Right?

"Fuck, it's fucking pouring..." I muttered to myself before parking the car in the garage and grabbing my keys, turning the lock to the inside.

Izana was nowhere to be found. Not staring at his fish, not gently strumming his guitar, not cooking. He was just nowhere. The entire house was quiet, with the exception of the rain gently tapping on the roof and window.

"Weird," I told myself, pulling out my phone to call Izana.

I heard his phone buzzing on the coffee table. Wherever he was, he didn't bring his phone.

Plan B: Call Kaku.

I don't know why that was my plan B, but maybe he just forgot his phone before going on an outing with Kaku. No, not with this weather, and not to mention that Izana never left his phone.

Kakucho picked up four buzzes in.

"Hey, (Name)," Kakucho's voice came over the phone speaker, "What's up?"

"Hey, are you with 'Zana by chance?"

"No, no. Have you tried calling him?"

"On phone, yes. I haven't tried calling out to him yet."

Kakucho sighed, "I would check the basement."

"Huh? Why the hell would he be in the basement."

"It's storming. He usually goes down to the basement to hide."

"Kaku, seriously. I've had enough of this 'Izana's scared of storms' gam-"

Lightning struck in the distance, and there was a loud shriek coming from the basement when the thunder came.

"I think I found him."

"Told y-" I hung up before I had to listen to him.

"'Zana?" I called out by the basement door.

There was a loud noise from the basement.

I walked down the stairs carefully, silently hoping that this was all a methodical prank on Izana and Kakucko's behalf. The lights were off; there was not a sign of Izana anywhere.

Until I turned the corner.

The fact that I could even see him was astonishing; he was huddled in the corner so tightly he practically disappeared. Shit, he was so pale; even thinking about it now is frightening. I hadn't seen him like that before or since. He looked like he was on the verge of fainting.

I practically ran over to him, crouching down beside him, careful not to startle him more than he already was.

"Izana," I coaxed, keeping my voice steady and calm, "Izana, hey, can you look at me?"

There was no response. I don't know if he could hear me or not. He was so, unbelievably frightened. He was white-knuckling his calves.

"Let go." I gently ran my fingers over his, "You're gonna hurt yourself."

He flinched violently, pulling his hand away swiftly before turning his back on me, somehow tucking himself even farther into the corner.

"Iz-"

Crack!

I cannot begin to describe the shriek that came out of Izana's mouth. I can still hear it in my head; I suppose it's a primal fear of sorts. Hearing someone you love be so terrified as to let out that noise is horrible. I can only imagine what he felt.

"Izana, it's alright, you're alright,"

Shaken does not even begin to describe his state; the poor thing was as white as paper (like his fanart), trembling like he just got out of the Arctic Ocean. His breathing made me think he was gonna pass out.

I didn't know what to do for him. Seeing him in that state destroyed me inside. I tried reaching for his hand again, gently taking one of his delicate hands into mine. He took it this time, wrapping his fingers around my hand so tightly I could feel the bones in my hand re-adjusting in his grip.

"We can stay here for as long as you need, just take your time."

He nodded slightly, slowly coming back to reality. He uncurled slightly, resting the side of his head against the wall and taking slow breaths. It looked like he was relaxing for the first time in hours.

Crack!

Just like that, 110% of progress out the window. I continued stroking his hand, even if just to offer the slightest bit of comfort. He needed anything I could give him, I recognized that.

"Izana, want my headphones or something?"

He turned his head slightly to look at me and spoke in a horse, weak voice, "What good would that do...?"

"They're noise-canceling, maybe it'll be a way to distract yourself. If it doesn't work, I'm sure we can find something else."

He nodded, and that was my cue to run upstairs quickly and grab the headphones. I got a glimpse outside; it was still raining heavily. I grabbed the headphones off my bedside table and rushed back downstairs, nervous about leaving Izana alone for longer than I had to.

I slipped the headphones over his ears, offered him my hand again, and waited. Waiting was all I could do now. He relaxed a bit more, repeating the steps previously. His breathing eventually slowed, and he fell asleep.

I thought about picking him up and moving him to the couch.

"No" I thought, "He's fine here."

~~~

Masterlist

#izana x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyorev headcanons #izana angst #tokyo revengers izana #izana kurokawa #tr izana #kurokawa izana #tokyo revengers angst #tokyorev angst #tokyo revengers oneshot #tokyorev izana #tokrev #tokyo rev angst

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