#i sure miss when the family wasn't split in the seven winds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beclynn-herondale · 2 years

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I sloppily threw this together cause it came to me, and yes I missed genderbent Clace and decided to share.

Jayce and Clar had gotten separated while fighting a demon horde. She wasn't sure where he had gone. The fear rose up inside of her, she prayed to a god she didn't believe in that he wasn't hurt. She couldn't bear if he had been hurt.

Looking around the abandoned warehouse where the demons had made a home, she felt the cold wind of the winter blow her hair into her face. The sky was a dark gray, it didn't make her feel any better. The warehouse was bare of any sign of life, the place looked as if it were going to collapse at any moment.

She was heading toward the last place she'd seen him when her vision began to blur, she was unsure why. She hadn't been hurt last she remembered. Things started going black, she felt her knees give out from under her, the last thing she felt was the gravel cutting into her knees.

Jayce woke to being seven years old again, she was standing in front of Valentine. He was holding out his hand for hers, an angered expression set on his face, one that she remembered all too well. It was the face he made when he was about to punish her.

"Give me your hand, Jonathana." His voice was as ice cold and emotionless as ever.

She stood there back in her seven year old body, back in the house she had spent the first nine years of her life in, its walls bare of family photos, and furniture that had collected dust from disuse, the cold atmosphere that she could never forget, made it feel like a ghost's home. Rain was pouring outside, hitting the windows in an aesthetically pleasing way, suddenly she recalled what time she was in. Beginning to tremble, all she could still think about was what happened to Clar. She didn't care what was happening to her, where she had been sent to, why she was seven years old again, all that mattered was Clar.

"I'm not going to ask again nicely." he looked as if he were about to raise his voice, but that was something Valentine had never done, no matter how much she had angered him before, he always made sure she heard the cold disdain he had for her in those moments.

In a split moment Valentine grabbed Jayce by the wrist, tugging on her with such force that it would have hurt any other seven year old, but Jayce wasn't any other seven year old. He turned her palm over, so the back of her hand was facing up, he brought his stele against her skin, instantly she felt a pain she hadn't felt before, she wanted to beg him to stop but knew it would only make things worse.

When he was finished Jayce felt nauseous and as if she were about to faint, she saw her vision going black just as it has before, Valentine had known she was too young for her first rune but hadn't cared, he didn't care about the consequences it would have on her seven year old body and mind, and Jayce had no choice in what happened to either back then.

She fell to the floor with a loud thump, feeling two big arms pick her up and carry her to her bed. She drifted in and out of consciousness, but she had been conscious when her father said "Why must you be so weak. Can't even handle a simple rune. Perhaps you aren't what I need after all. Perhaps I should just throw you away."

Jayce had forgotten he had said that after he put her first rune on her. She thought she must have blocked that memory out as the mundane people say. It had made her want to beg her father not to throw her away, that she would work harder to be what he wanted her to be, but if only her seven year old self knew nothing she could do would ever be enough for Valentine. No, she would always be a disappointment to him, nothing more than a dog or a pawn.

Suddenly she remembered her Alec and Clar and everyone else who loved her now, it didn't really matter anymore what Valentine thought of her, she had people who loved her for real, people who were proud of her and cherished her, they didn't just tolerate her as Valentine had done for years. But still, it hurt to know all her suffering and everything he took from her was for nothing, because in the end he just threw her away as if she were a used rag.

Suddenly she found herself yearning for Clar, for his arms to wrap around her, for him to hold her and kiss her, tell her everything was going to be alright. But what if she had died and this was her second life, what if she was stuck in some sick repeat of her life. She didn't want to relieve the bad things, she wanted a home filled with love and a family who she could love, she wanted good things, she wanted peace.

But maybe there was no escaping Valentine, maybe she was forever bound to him because he had tainted her soul in some way. Or maybe she had condemned herself for all the wrong she had done.

Maybe— suddenly she felt herself wake to screaming, but it wasn't her screams, no, it was someone else's. Jayce looked to her side to see a monster standing in her doorway, long arms, ita hands with sharp talons on them, it's glowing red eyes looking at her with desire and hunger, the creature was black and smoke seemed to escape its body, if she looked close enough she could have sworn something was moving inside the smoke.

Paralyzed she didn't know what to do, she was still in her seven year old body, and unarmed and alone.

It dashed towards her with a frightening speed, Jayce threw her arms up unaware of what else to do, she felt a scream rose up in her throat, but nothing came out, she couldn't speak or even scream, and she could no longer move, all she could do is sit as this monster attacked her.

Please, she thought, Clar, please, please don't leave me.

"Jayce!" She heard a familiar voice calling.

But there was no one else here but that monster and her.

"Jayce, wake up!" He screamed desperately. "Don't you dare let go, you asshole."

She could hear Clar but couldn't see him. Jayce closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus on his voice, trying to find it through all the darkness.

Suddenly Jayce woke gasping in Clar's arms, she felt like she couldn't get air into her lungs, she had attacks like this sometimes but never this intense, she couldn't get any air into her lungs this time.

"Jayce, honey," Clar said gently, "slow, slow, calm down. You're safe now, let your body relax, then inhale."

Doing as he said, his voice calming her, Jayce was able to breathe several deep breaths. She realized her head was now pounding too, looking up she saw Clar's worried gaze looking down at her, she was laying in his lap, he cradled her head gently.

"Hey, my love," he said with a soft smile. "I thought I'd lost you there."

"Wha— what happened?" She asked, breathing still heavy.

"I'm not entirely sure," he said. "All I know is I was running back to you and when I found you, you had collapsed to the ground, your body was trembling and you were screaming in pain, I applied a healing rune but it didn't do much, then you stopped breathing and all I could do was call out your name just like I did back when I stabbed you with Glorious. And you came back just like them too."

Jayce slowly lifted herself up, turning herself to face Clar, he looked as if he wanted to force her to stay laying down, she almost wanted to herself as her head pounded harder every minute that passed. But she needed to hold him, to let him know she was alright.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body close to his, Clar's arms came around her waist, he nested his face into her neck, giving it a kiss, she felt something wet stream down the back of her neck. "I thought I lost you for real this time," he said. "I thought you were gone. I should have never left you, I'm sorry. I knew you were having panic attacks again, they'd become more frequent the last few weeks, I thought you would be fine, after all you were doing what you did best, I'm sorry, Jayce. I'm so sorry, I love you."

"Clar, shit up," she said with affection, "this isn't your fault. You could have prevented this. I'm ok every day because of you, because you love me and care for me, it makes me feel better and stronger every day. I love you so much, now shut up and just hold me tightly."

He did as she asked, pulling her as tightly as he could to himself, as if he didn't intend to let go of her anytime soon. She laid her head against his shoulder taking in his familiar scent of citrus shampoo and coffee that always calmed her nerves.

"I love you," he said against her neck.

"I love you too." She felt herself relax even more, feeling as if she might fall asleep from exhaustion there. Clar always made her feel safe enough to fall asleep anywhere, as long as he was there nothing could hurt her ever. It made her feel like a child, but his arms were the safest place in the world.

She hardly remembered Clar making a portal and taking her home. He gave her a bath and cleaned her up, then put her to bed, climbing into it with her. He pulled her close to him, kissing her on the forehead "Sleep, my honey."

Doing as he asked, she drifted to sleep, this time dreaming of good things. A family they created together, laughing together like a close family would. A smile creeped its way across her mouth.

Tag list: @khaleesiofalicante @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @magnus-the-maqnificent @userpurple @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @simply-ellas-stuff @bookfast-at-tiffanys @radisv @amchara @vickchan2 (let me know if you want to be added)(let me know if you want to be added)

#male clary #female jace #jace herondale #clary fairchild #clar fairchild #jayce herondale #clace #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments

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nanaminokanojo · 3 years

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Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 1/8

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NANAMI!! 🎂

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

The final road before the bend that led to Gojo Manor stretched before Nanami, signaled by the consistent shield of the ancient cryptomeria trees that lined the road side. The forest was a momentary relief from the glare of the sun reflecting on the windshield of his silver Lexus. Such was the inconvenience of driving in the middle of a bright day when the sun was at its pedestal, making no room for shadows, no reprieve from the heat. He detested it.

A sigh escaped his lips. It’s supposed to be the beginning of autumn, he was thinking for the umpteenth time that day. He would really appreciate it if the Siberian winds would herald the actual beginning of the season. Yes, he thought. That would be nice.

The weather was, nevertheless, the least of his worries, and as he finally made the turn to the incongruously long gravel driveway of the estate, the real cause of his anxiety reared its head to the surface, presaged by the denser shadows of trees and the high gables of the colossal structure that housed the seat of the Gojo clan. It was supposed to be unfounded, his apprehension, or so he tried to convince himself since deciding to make an appearance earlier than expected. He couldn’t keep it at bay anymore when the emotion was mixed with hopeful anticipation. An odd combination, indeed.

He had no choice but to come, or rather, he wanted to come. It was for an important occasion anyway, Gojo Satoru and Utahime Iori’s wedding week specifically. If he was being honest, he wouldn’t miss it for the world. If it was significant to two of the most important people in his life then the same applies where his views on the matter was concerned. After all, he greatly appreciated it that Gojo chose him as his best man, well one of them anyway. The man could never make up his mind if he tried so, breaking the traditional order of things, he has two “best men” – him and Geto Suguru.

Much to the groom-to-be’s disappointment, Nanami initially planned to show up a day before the ceremony itself. It was an added displeasure to the fact that Geto wasn’t going to show up until later that week as he was overseas for work. Gojo still probably was disappointed since Nanami did not exactly say anything about showing up earlier. But when he saw an opening in his jampacked schedule which was rare, he took the opportunity to take time off work. As annoying as Gojo was, he did not deserve to have two absent best men on his wedding week. Besides, a week away from the firm wouldn’t hurt, and he thought it was a good way to unwind before his big case.

If he would be able to unwind anyway.

The man had been sure of how he would manage through the occasion if he only spent a maximum of two days surrounded by crowds which were sure to be invited to the happy celebration. After all, nobody ever expected the young master of the Gojo Clan to ever be serious enough about anyone romantically, much less get married. Now that he had to stay for longer, giving chances to more occurrences of a variety of events, he wasn’t so certain. Anything could happen at Gojo Manor. Anything.

His optimism relied on that fact. Troublesome things usually happened with Gojo and Geto together, throw in the other members of the family and the other clans in the area, but Nanami was betting everything on this week.

A pair of cool, aqua eyes met his dark orbs the moment he stepped into the semi-outdoor ballroom of the opulent house. It was always like instinct, the way Nanami’s senses seem to heighten and hyper focus on one person, all else tuned out and seemingly nonexistent. Like always, without a hitch, he found you.

Alas. If he was questioning the reason for his hopefulness, that wasn’t the case anymore.

There you were, stood on the elevated corner by the refreshments table. You appeared like a celestial being walking among mortals, the halo of silvery white hair shimmering under the sunlight filtering through the room making you seem as if you did not exactly exist in the same realm as everyone else.

You were initially not paying attention to anyone despite your cousin, Miwa, chatting away beside you. But then, you leaned towards the latter when she whispered something, being equally conspiratorial by raising your champagne flute to your mouth. By the looks of it, prior to that, you have long tuned them out, Miwa and her friends, what with your poor attempt at pretending to pay attention. Nanami knew you have mastered the art of doing so since you were a child. It wasn't on purpose, or so you say. You were simply oblivious most of the time or you just didn't care. And you tended to only see and hear what you wanted.

At the moment, he was the object of your attention. He was sure of it, unable to help but to be much too aware of it, nerves pulled to their limits like piano strings conditioned to make sounds at the slightest of touch of its ebony and ivory keys. The feeling he had made you real, existing. He wasn’t imagining at all.

At times, he still could not believe that he watched you grow up to the person you are at present. The first time he knew of your existence was when Gojo invited him and some of their other friends to that very house in middle school. You were just as remarkable as a child as you are as a grown woman, much too quick-witted and eloquent at six even as your nanny carried you astride her hip, looking very much like a female infant version of Gojo. The bright blue eyes you shared with the male shone with the same intelligence he possessed, probably more, even without doing or saying anything. It just emanated from the two of you even if Gojo behaved like an utter idiot at times.

You shifted your line of vision to Miwa who was inconspicuously flailing her hands as a silent and agitated command for the other girls to disperse when she saw Nanami approaching. In a split second, you were alone. Miwa has always been unreasonably fidgety around him but he never quite understood why.

"I seemed to have driven away your company," he said to you the moment he was within earshot, watching you exchange your empty glass for another that's full.

You finally faced him, your scintillating eyes glittering under the wide skylights above. They were fathomless as they were luminous, shining with mischief. It was a familiar sight. From a state of tedium, they seem to come alive at the idea of tormenting him.

"I don't mind."

Of course not. The corners of his mouth curled inconspicuously at that similarity he shared with you. "I seem to always offend that cousin of yours."

"Not really. Frighten is more like it." Your eyes stayed on him even as you drank from your glass.

"Frightened?" Nanami repeated with inflection. He knew Miwa was awkward around him, but it was news that she was afraid of him. He didn’t have anything against her since unlike you, she was actually a sweet girl.

"Well, you have always been purposefully abrasive, you have taken the language of sarcasm to a whole new level and you are a grouch," you told him without batting an eyelash when everyone else was intimidated by him. You were probably the only one who could treat him that way. Not even your brother who is his best friend could do that and mean it.

His planned glance turned into a sidelong stare when he saw how you were eyeing him the same way. The difference was that you had a knowing look about you, evident in the way your eyes shone with diablerie and the contumelious curl at the corners of your luscious lips.

"Is that your opinion of me?" he asked, his expressions remaining stoic. Inside, it was a different story. You are the last being on earth he wanted to view him the way others usually did. He always thought you acted around him differently – defied him, messed with his head (and heart if he was being honest), and annoyed him – because you saw him differently, too. He liked that idea, the feeling it gives him. It was already enough that you are forbidden territory because you are his best friend's little sister. He didn't want you to turn out to be just like everyone else.

You grinned but didn't satisfy his query with a response. It was just like you to keep him guessing that way. You loved your games and especially loved to play them with him. He liked to play along at times, but it gets difficult to keep up with your antics. Your thought process was something he still has to figure out despite years of knowing you.

Seeing that he wasn't getting anywhere by engaging you, he said, "Where's the groom-to-be?"

You pointed at the direction of the wood-framed glass doors leading to the indoor salon where your brother was speaking to one of the organizers for his wedding.

When Nanami followed your line of vision, he found the person in question. On a long table before Gojo were different arrangements of flowers, all in shades of pink, cream and white. Honestly, he saw no difference but Gojo was eyeing them as if choosing the right one will solve global warming.

"Being fussy about the flower arrangements more than his bride, obviously." Shaking his head, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his grey, pinstriped slacks before facing you again. "You think it's a good time to step in?"

At that, you smirked openly. "Wanna play a game, Nanamin?" you asked, appearing and sounding innocent as you addressed him with that nickname you knew he hated.

"Sure," he said without hesitation, knowing well the kind of person you are when you’re refused.

"No protestations this time, I see. You're learning."

He shot you a withering look, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That coming from a childish brat. I won't take offense." He immediately regretted saying that when he saw how your eyes glinted with something sinister. What it was, he didn't know, but he was sure about one thing: he just walked into another one of your traps willingly.

"Whoever gets a rise out of Satoru wins," you said, cocking your head to your brother's general direction.

That was easy, he thought. The fact that he showed up for the week-long preparations for the nuptials was enough to draw out a profound reaction from Gojo. Nanami was just that kind of best friend – absent. In his defense, he did make it to the important parts just in time, but this was something new to Gojo. For all he knew, he wasn't even expecting him to arrive until the wedding.

"Fine." He nodded at you, the action very minute. He was never big on actions. "We'll talk about the compensation later."

You returned the gesture with saccharine mordacity to it. "Alright." However, instead of moving towards the goal, you walked towards the other direction, signaling for him to go first.

It was an easy victory. The moment he walked into the salon, Gojo’s attention was immediately pulled away from the flower arrangements, his eyes going wide as saucers as he took in the fact that his best man arrived way ahead of time.

"Who are you and what have you done to Nanami Kento?" he asked aloud, making some of the guests for the day's luncheon turn towards them. He was evidently elated, his wife-to-be coming to join in, hugging Nanami while he clapped the man on the shoulder.

"I wouldn't miss this happy occasion for the world," Nanami told the couple, trying his best to convey his thoughts without sounding patronizing. That would be overdoing things even if it meant he would win against you. He wasn’t big on emotions and sentiments either.

All the while, his eyes furtively strayed to you, his competitor, watching you from way across the ballroom, sipping leisurely at your champagne as if you cannot be bothered. However, if Nanami thought he has seen the worst that you can do, he couldn't have been more mistaken in his life.

In the next moment, you entered the salon, appearing self-satisfied as you sauntered towards them, looking like a queen surveying your domain. "Well, well. If it isn't the big shot lawyer himself, coming to grace us with his presence!"

He clucked his tongue, reading through your ploy. You weren’t exactly one for theatrics most of the time, typically straightforward and brutally frank, but your games were as intricate as they were vexing. Nanami turned to face you just enough to conceal his expression from Gojo and Utahime, arching a brow at you in both challenge and question.

In a flash of black and white, you have taken your place in front of him barely a foot away. Your intention to further close the distance between the both of you only became evident when both your hands shot forward, taking possession of both sides of his face as you willed him to bend to your height, tiptoeing to make up for the remaining space. In a brief but seemingly drawn-out sequence of events, you staked your claim on his slightly parted mouth in a scorching lip lock.

Nanami was momentarily distracted by the faint taste of champagne, that detail registering in his brain before the sensation of your pliant lips pressed against his. The realization dawned too late making blood rush up to his head and for his ears to ring as he froze and burned simultaneously. His arms had unconsciously found their way around your slender waist, the feel of your warmth under your taffeta dress searing his palms. It was more for the purpose of steadying himself than you on your precariously high heels. The mere touch of your hand made him incoherent, but the feeling of your lips on his drove him to irrationality. The slim likeliness of the act happening between him and you made it feel as if he was going to pass out or wake up from a long, vivid dream.

He was there. He exists. You were there, real as can be. And you were kissing him.

Gasps erupted from all around, and before he knew it, you have pulled away, releasing your grip on him. As if he couldn’t dig his grave any deeper and punctuate his loss any further, Nanami leaned towards you, chasing your lips, attempting to continue your little interlude, uncaring of where you were or who was watching. After having a tiny taste of it, the absence of your touch affronted him like no other. If having you that close was what it meant to lose, then he will gladly have it.

Your laughter snapped him out of his trance. When his vision focused, he found you leaning away, your hand pressed against his chest to keep him at bay.

“Eager, aren’t we?” you said loud enough for him to hear, and for everyone’s benefit, you droned on, saying, “Been dying to do that since I saw you come in.”

Dazed, he just stared at you before him, the fact that he did not just lose to you within the premise of the game registering in his mind like a flash of lightning. Blood rushed to his head, heat permeating from the base of his neck to his scalp when his eyes strayed to Gojo who looked scandalized.

“You…what…” the other male endeavored to speak, but nothing coherent came out of his mouth, his blue eyes rapidly shifting between you and Nanami while his fiancée giggled beside him.

Indifferent to everything else and your sights only set on the object of your trickery, you tittered, savoring the hilarity of the situation. At least, to you, it was funny. “See you around, Nanamin,” you drawled and left with that confident gait, shaking your head in levity.

He wanted to join in on your conviviality, but the idea dissipated faster than water under intense heat when he saw his best friend eyeing him like he was about to castrate him. Nanami straightened up, rearranging his expression to that of quiet shock, laying it on thick by blinking cluelessly as if it was typical of him but Gojo was having none of it.

Ah, the joys of losing to you, he could just think despite his impending doom. Or maybe he was doomed to begin with. He couldn’t care less with the pleasant tingling of his lips and the memory of yours, the taste lingering on his tongue.

“You and me, in the game room. You’ve a lot of explaining to do.”

If Nanami would be asked how many times he lost to you, he wouldn’t have an answer. At least not for what is healthy for his pride and because he lost count. His only consolation was that he wasn’t the only one who had ever been under your thumb over the years you have had the upper hand. You’ve always had the advantage, and one way or the other, regardless of the odds of the games you played, be it tomfoolery or serious bets, you invariably have a way of turning them into your favor.

He could well say his chances of winning cases in court is higher compared to the fact that you always bested him in life. It frustrated him to no end.

“Wanna play a game?” Those were always the words which heralded a series of infuriating inconveniences that he, along with some other individuals, had to be subjected to ever since you acquired your penchant for mischief and seeming thirst to challenge if not victimize people.

Those words, paired with a ridiculous nickname of your choosing for each of your conquests gave one no choice but to engage. The way you say it was enough to rile even someone who just happened to be listening, as if you were surreptitiously patronizing the person of your choosing. The unreadable expression on your face when you initiate your games also makes one’s hackles rise. While Gojo had the same tendency to be condescending when he wanted to be, you were exponentially more menacing compared to him.

In your defense, you never did it to everyone. It was as if you have a rationale behind the selection of people you felt like messing with. Your criteria was not something that is known to anybody else. At first, it was just Gojo. Then Geto and Shoko Ieiri, another close friend of your brother, got a taste of it until finally, it was his turn. Anyone none the wiser would think your ‘affections’ were solely focused on Gojo’s friends, but apparently, it wasn’t the case.

There were three kinds of people where your games were concerned: people you didn’t give a damn about, those you liked to play with and those you engaged with but eventually stopped being a pain to.

Most people around you were the first type since you mostly didn’t give two fucks about them. For some reason, it had become a sort of status quo in the Gojo household to be included in your sphere but few were lucky enough to hold your attention long enough.

The third kind were people who seemed to have reached an understanding with you. Geto, Utahime and Shoko used to be casualties in your ploys, but after a game or two, they’ve eventually ‘graduated,’ and you treated them like equals. Apart from that, there seems to be an exceptional case when you did not have to inflict yourself on the person just like in the case of your closest friend, Itadori Yuuji. That kid was special somehow, and Nanami thought perhaps he was, too, until you got started with him.

As for him and Gojo, they were still people you liked to torment. His theory was that you were looking for something from the people you play with. If you find it, you stop. It wasn’t a theory anymore that it was a sort of defense mechanism if he deduced right, judging from the situations which led to the change in your behavior.

It all started when you came home from boarding school overseas after finishing your freshman year in high school. Gojo had invited them over as per usual for the summer events being held at their estate but suddenly started talking about his concerns over you.

“She’s distant,” he said with a sigh when asked about it. Apparently, your parents were upset over you decision not to attend the school of their choice anymore and threatened to drop out and run away if they insisted further. “And there seems to be something wrong with her. She seems different somehow. Very snappy and always in a foul mood. She rarely leaves her room, and when we try to help, she gets angrier.”

“She’s in that phase, huh?” Shoko mused. “Want me to talk to her?”

Gojo insisted to do it, being all dramatic and saying he had been a lousy brother. But that’s when you started being the way you were. You weren’t an angry teen anymore, just someone who indulged yourself by toying with others without regard to whose expense and to what extent. Most of them were harmless, but you very nearly endangered two of your friends, too.

Nanami dug his own grave when he purposefully tried to have a go at you, pointing out your mistakes in an attempt to intervene at that time. You used to be rather passive where he was concerned, polite even, but then everything changed that night.

He was somehow glad that you decided to approach him when you needed help when you usually gravitated towards Geto, surprised to see you at his doorstep past midnight and looking ashen.

First, you dared this new girl, Kugisaki Nobara, to sneak into the abandoned factory at night, and the girl ended up hurting yourself. You looked so regretful and distraught while explaining what happened on the ride to the factory, and for the first time, he realized that you only ever challenged people you held a certain degree of fondness for. Everything ended well without anybody else knowing of your mishaps but him, and in a twist of fate, she even became your first real friend.

And then, you started yet another game with Fushiguro Megumi, effectively getting him kicked out his father’s clan. You weren’t exactly aware about the deeper reason as to why his family wanted him to be close to you, only that you found displeasure in it because he was a groom candidate. It was common among old clans like yours, and when you dared him to tell your parents he had no intention of marrying you, your brother had to intervene and take the boy in, ending up registered under Gojo Clan instead. While his family was trash in all sense of the word, you were still at fault since you ruined his only chance at being accepted by the clan head. Still, he, too, became your friend, and more than that, an adopted brother.

“Is this some attention-seeking behavior you’ve learned somewhere?” Nanami asked you that time.

“I get attention without as much as lifting a finger being who I am.” You snorted. “I can’t expect everything to be positive though.”

He was taken aback by your statement then. Still, he tested his theory. You were different after all. While some people admired you for your genius and your otherworldly looks, there will always be those who hated you for it. It was like a repeat of Gojo, except that he had them, his friends. Whom did you have?

“Are you being bullied at school?”

At that, your pupils constricted, your bright eyes turning icy as you regarded him. You were quiet for a moment as you stared, not exactly enraged but your brows furrowed together. Nanami could see the cogs in your brain moving through your eyes when you slowly grinned and said those four words: “Wanna play a game?”

He’s been losing to you ever since, not really knowing what you want and what set you off, hell-bent on making him miserable at every opportunity you could take.

It wasn’t all different at present.

The moment he heard the click of the doorknob and your scent – a mix of crisp autumn air, vanilla and a hint of something that reminded him of happiness – registered in his brain, he froze on his chair in the study where he was currently taking notes on his upcoming case. It was a trade-off for the length of time he would be gone from the law firm he worked at. His grip on his pen tightened that he thought he would break it to splinters when he saw you from his periphery, still looking like a goddess, fresh and gorgeous despite the day's affairs.

You were so painfully beautiful that concentrating on the file before him was proving to be difficult. Everything else didn't make sense to him whenever you were in the same room as he is. It didn't help that you kissed him in front of everyone just a few hours ago. He couldn't forget the feeling no matter how many times he convinced himself that it was just you playing your games; that it was nothing. He wished it was otherwise, not that it helped in his cause a bit.

"What on earth was that about?" Gojo demanded, pulling him aside to the game room like a child who did something naughty. In fairness to him, he was still fond enough of Nanami to offer him a drink but, indeed, he thought, what on earth was that about?

He shrugged. "Have you met your sister? Surely, you know just what crazy antics she has up her sleeves. She gets her annoying side from you anyway."

The answer seemed to have placated the male for the time being but if you were going to continue with your mischief, Nanami has no way of telling where things can go. And judging by your confident gait and the complacent grin swathed on your countenance, you were up to no good again.

He carded his fingers through his blond locks, leaning back on the chair as he furtively watched you.

"Do you need anything?" he asked calmly despite himself.

"Hmm. I won," you murmured, rounding the heavy oak desk before vaulting yourself up on it to sit just beside his papers, your eyes zeroing in on the files.

He shot you an accusing glare. "What was that about?"

You arched a brow at him, wrenching your gaze from the documents with a frown, the way your eyes widened in mock innocence making him want to box your ears. "What was what about, Nanamin?” The preposterous nickname rolled off your tongue tauntingly. “I thought you hated questions that can be openly interpreted."

"Why did you kiss me?" he snapped.

"Well..." You openly mocked him with a smile. "Could there be any other reason apart from our bet?"

"Of all the things you could think of, you went for something that would give your brother a heart attack not to mention that it put me in hot waters."

“Isn’t that the objective of our little bet?”

He sighed. "This is the last time I'm indulging you."

"Eh? You said that the last time we saw each other, too." You feigned exasperation. "Doesn't change the fact that you lost again though."

"What do you want?" He finally sat up straight, stacking the documents on the table. "Why are you sitting there anyway?"

"You're right." You jumped off the desk and much to his confusion, instead of taking one of the seats at the other side of the table, you swatted his arm from the papers and sat on his lap like he was an easy chair.

"What –"

You turned to him then, your faces just inches from one another. "Is this better?" you asked as if you saw nothing wrong with your iffy position.

Nanami didn't know what to do with, his arms remaining still on his sides while he just stared at you as if you grew two heads. "Is this another one of your games?"

You leaned closer to him, your bright eyes drowning him. "You tell me." You laughed then. "I wasn't the one who couldn't get enough of this afternoon's kiss."

He shrugged before he could run away with his thoughts. You were right. He did want to kiss you more, but it wasn't as if he could.

Just then, you reached over and removed the glasses that were always perched over his nose then wore it yourself. "What are you doing?"

"You look better without them," you commented.

"I need them for reading." He rolled his eyes at you. "Get off, Y/N."

"Hmm? Is that really what you want?" you taunted, your hand having found purchase at the back of his head, fingers toying with his soft hair.

He placed a hand on your thigh, slowly climbing up to your hip, reveling in the feel of your warmth under his touch. He looked at you seriously then and leaned away, surprised when you frowned momentarily. It was so fleeting, he didn’t know whether he was imagining it when he saw disappointment on your face. That was a first.

"Y/N, Just tell me what you want. You won the bet after all."

Shrugging, you stood up as if you weren’t just perched on his lap. "Go figure," you quipped, sounding pissed off. "Think of something I would actually want. It's up to you."

“Another game?”

“Think of it as you want.”

"What?"

You slammed the door close in your wake before he could get an answer, once again leaving him there puzzled at your reaction and exasperated with himself.

-end of Part 1-

First of all, Happy Cake Day to the love of my life, Nanamin!

I made him a lawyer here cause that's freakin' hot!!!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Everyone's aged up here as well, including the younger characters which will be included in the story.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART SOURCES CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

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thesecretfandom · 7 years

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At First Light: One Year Ago (Prologue)

A/N: I’m very excited to announce At First Light, my Riverdale/Until Dawn AU fic! This has been a huge project for me, challenging and fun. There are a few things you should know before you begin reading. At the end of each chapter you will have a choice (In the form of two options that will link you to the next chapter). Each choice you make will affect the events of the story, so be careful. Also, I will warn you that this is based on a horror game, so I tried to make it as scary as possible. If that’s not your cup of tea, read at your own risk. Otherwise, enjoy!

Word Count: ~30,000 for entire fic.

Rated: M

Warnings: Horror Themes, Major Character Death

Summary: One year ago a group of friends gathered together at the family lodge on Mount Blossom. When one friend, and brother, goes missing on their night of fun, their lives are changed forever. Now, a year later, the remaining eight friends have gathered again to celebrate the life of their friend, until all hell breaks loose. It’s up to you to decide. Who will survive Until Dawn? Choose wisely.

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

“Gather ‘round ladies and gents!” Cheryl Blossom announced theatrically. She made up one half of the twins hosting the party at the lodge on top of Mount Blossom, formerly Thornhill Mountain. The girl with the bright red hair stood in front of the massive fireplace in main living space of her family’s extravagant lodge. Next to her stood her brother, Jason. They were as identical as two twins of opposite gender could be. Skin as white as the snow that fell all over the mountain that cold January night, their hair the same hue of red, almost unrealistically vibrant.

“We’ve invited you all here this weekend to celebrate friendship in a world of fantasy!”

Jason threw an arm around his sister. While Cheryl was loud and exuberant, Jason was a bit more quiet and laid back. They balanced each other out.

“What Cheryl means to say… alcohol is in the kitchen. We have beer, wine, tequila, whiskey, and vodka, as well as various mixers. Food. We have chips, popcorn, trail mix, and whatever else you can find in the cupboards. Nothing is off limits tonight, just don’t jump into the fire or hurt yourself in anyway.” Jason glanced around at the other seven people gathered around him. Josie and Archie cuddled in a recliner, Reggie had already cracked open a beer in the kitchen, Veronica perched on the back of the couch where Kevin sat awkwardly between Jughead and Betty, who kept throwing secretive glances at each other behind Kevin’s back. It was really a ragtag group of friends. Each with such a unique personality that even Jason didn’t understand how they’d all become best friends. “So, no rules tonight. Have fun!”

Cheryl stepped forward, regaining the spotlight. “Speaking of fun… we’re going to be playing truth or dare! And this isn’t some middle school game we’re playing. If your truths or dares aren’t rated at least PG-13, I will give you one rated R.” Cheryl stuck her hands defiantly on her hips. “No arguing, hostess rules.”

The wind howled and the creaky old windows rattled. A loud crash exploded from the kitchen.

“Sorry, dude.” Reggie was standing in small puddle surrounded by shards of glass. “The wind just kind of freaks me out.”

“Jesus, Reg.” Jason sighed. He left his spot in front of the fireplace to walk into the smaller, but no less extravagant kitchen. “The night has yet to begin and you’re already destroying my property.” He joked.

The night proceeded just as any other party made up of nine high school seniors may be expected.

“Jughead, you haven’t had a turn yet.” Archie slurred.

“Ah yes, Jughead. Truth… or Dare?” Cheryl crooned.

“Do I seriously have to participate in this stupid game?” Jughead was as sober as it gets. After dealing with an alcoholic father for most of his life, there was no amount of peer pressure that would get him to take even a sip of the beer Archie had forced into his hand.

“If you don’t choose, I’ll choose for you.” Cheryl replied with a smirk. “Choose wisely. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you, just this once.”

“Fine, give me a dare.” Jughead shifted on the lumpy couch. The Blossom’s had really let the place go in recent years. He remembers when they were kids coming up here every weekend in the summer, bunk beds set up in two of the many bedrooms the lodge boasted. Cheryl and Jason’s parents had stopped their regular trips to the mountain, so now the one time of year this mountain was inhabited was when these nine teenagers gathered here each January for a weekend of skiing, drinking, and for some of them… sex.

“That’s my kind of answer.” The room was silent. Everyone in the room waiting for Jughead’s sentencing. Not once had he ever participated in one of Cheryl’s games, so something must’ve made tonight different. “I’ve got the perfect dare for you. Jughead Jones, I dare you to…kiss Betty Cooper on the lips.”

Betty’s cheeks turned a shade of bright pink, while Jughead’s eyes widened to twice their usual size.

“Go on.” Cheryl crossed her arms over her chest. “Pucker up.”

Jughead glanced at Betty, Kevin still sitting between them. “Do you mind?” He said to the boy sitting in his way.

Kevin hopped out of his seat so quickly, it was as if his pants were on fire. He immediately took a seat next to Veronica, though he stared blatantly at Betty and Jughead as the black haired boy leaned closer to Betty.

“It’s just a stupid game.” Jughead whispered. Betty nodded slightly and Jughead placed his lips on hers for a split second before pulling away. Betty’s cheeks had already turned a brighter shade of pink.

“What did I say?” Cheryl said. “PG-13 at the least. That kiss wasn’t even good enough for a Disney princess. Try again.”

Jughead glared at Cheryl and wondered yet again why he’d allowed himself to be dragged into this game. Cheryl fixed him with an equally as intimidating stare, tapping her foot impatiently. Jughead glanced around the room with the hope that someone would talk her out of this so he could go back to hiding in a corner like he was used to. All of this attention, it just wasn't…

Betty interrupted his thoughts. She suddenly leaned into him, kissing his lips. It was barely more than a peck, but apparently enough to satisfy the Ice Queen Cheryl. She threw up her arms in defeat and finally sat down next to her brother.

“You’re up, JJ.”

Jason cringed at his sister’s nickname for him. Eighteen years old and their childhood nicknames could not be shaken. He took a swig from his beer to drown out the reminders of his childhood. Being a Blossom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Not that anyone would believe a rich kid like himself had any problems, but Cheryl understood. Maybe that’s why they were so close.

“I’ll take a dare too. But maybe be a little more original this time?”

“I’ve got one for you.” Josie piped up. “I dare you, Jason Blossom, to go out to the guest cabin and back. And you have to bring something back from the cabin so you can prove it.”

“Easy peasy.” Jason set his beer on the coffee table and walked toward the door. He pulled his black, winter coat off of a hook, zipping it tightly and donning the hood. “See you on the other side.” He offered up a military salute before disappearing into the freezing night air.

Jason walked briskly down the well known path to the guest cabin. The wind howled through the trees, blistering cold wind whipping over his cheeks. His feet crunched through the rapidly hardening snow as he struggled against the cold.

A loud crack startled Jason and he stumbled backward as the large oak on his left succumbed to the winter storm and fell with a crash in front of him.

“Shit…” Jason brushed snow off of his pants as he stood. The oak tree was now blocking the entire path. He’d have to climb over if he wanted to complete his quest. In the distance, Jason could hear the crunch crunch crunch of footsteps. “What the fuck, guys?”

He was sure it must be his friends following him into the woods to scare him. The footsteps got louder as they got closer. Jason frantically looked around; no one on the path behind him, no sign of anyone in the woods surrounding him, was that a shadow behind that tree?

“Very funny, guys.” Jason back up until his back hit the trunk of the fallen tree. “This wasn’t part of the dare. Go back to the lodge!” He was shouting against the wind, but he could still distinctly hear the footsteps as someone appeared from behind the tree, and it wasn’t one of his friends.

“What the fu-?” Jason turned, scrambling over the tree trunk. A branch caught his legs and he stumbled. The man was still following him, and Jason ripped himself free. He sprinted as fast as his freezing joints would carry him through the woods.

He left the trail, hoping the congestion of the thick forest would slow down the man chasing him. Sharp branches ripped at his body. He felt a slow trickle of blood drip down his cheek, but he had to keep running. He didn’t even know where he was anymore when he suddenly burst out of the forest and slid to a stop overlooking a steep drop-off. The cliff had to be three stories high, with a spattering of rocks gathered at the bottom.

Jason didn’t know where to go. He couldn’t turn back, or the man might catch him, but he would surely die if he tried climbing down the steep cliffside. He didn’t have time to make a decision because the dark shadow of a man emerged from the woods. He stepped slowly toward the boy quivering on the edge of the cliff. He was holding a gun in his arms, his face covered by a gas mask. The strange man slowly lifted an arm to the boy, but didn’t step any closer. It looked like he was trying to…

A series of loud crashes and screams came from the woods and the man spun on his heel, gun lifted as he shot out a burst of flame that didn’t quite reach the trees. When he spun around the man caught a glimpse of the terrified boy as he slipped and disappeared from view. His screams lasted far too long; the man waiting until he stopped screaming before walking to the cliffside and taking a knee. The boy was nowhere to be seen, but he knew the fall would have broken his body and soon… the snow would erase any sign that he’d ever been here.

—————————————-

“JJ should be back by now, don’t you think?” Cheryl was pacing back and forth, having called off their game of truth or dare when Jason left. “It’s been an hour. He should be back!”

CHOICE

Send Archie and Reggie to look for him.

Wait until the morning.

#riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fanfic #riverdale au #bughead #varchie #afl #at first light #until dawn fic #fanfic #riverdale #fanfiction #butterfly effect

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setoangel01-fanfiction · 8 years

Text

Adjustment

Fandom: TMNT 2012

Hurt - Chapter 32 (Previous Chapters)

Rated: T

Chapter Summary: Who knew the most mundane things could trigger the most painful memories?

Fanfiction.net

A03

Splinter's hands shook slightly; tended in his paws were their chipped plates gathered from many times dumpster diving and found on the outskirts of recycling facilities. The early years of life Splinter recalled collecting all of them meticulously as they made a home for him and his sons in the lair. Necessities and little things he took for granted as a human seemed like glorious luxuries now. How hard it had been to find plates for his family and how gingerly him and his sons had to treat them to make sure they lasted.

Almost subconsciously, he began setting the table, movements swift and familiar as he set down a plate at each spot for himself and his sons.

"Um…Sensei?" Donatello spoke, breaking the ninjitsu master out of his reverie.

Splinter froze for a moment above the table and looked down... Out of seemingly nowhere, his heart shattered.

5 place-mats, 5 plates, and 5 cups...when there was only need for four of them anymore.

Chest tightening, Splinter looked longingly at what used to be Raphael's spot. There were obvious marks from where little Spike used to claw and bite at their wooden table or where Raphael would etch a bit of art into it with his sais when he was younger.

Yoshi recalled disciplining him for that particular instance and now...the thought of it caused intense pain for now, he would give anything to see him do it again...

"I'm sorry, Sensei." a seven-year-old Raph sniffled loudly, moving his arm across his snout before standing straighter yet still refused to meet Splinter's eyes. Small head bowed and tiny fists trembling as he stood across from his angry father who was still learning to deal with his hotheaded son.

Yoshi silently recalled that moment - desperately wishing he'd handled it differently.

Willing give anything to go back; to scoop that precious boy into his arms and hold him tight...and this time, never let him go...

"Oh. Sorry. Force of habit." Splinter quietly muttered; using his vast recesses of training to keep his emotions at bay.

Paws trembling as he picked up the extra items until Raph's spot remained completely bare. He didn't move immediately, his eyes looking over the barely visible etchings in the wood before he placed the extras back into the cupboard and drawers and left the kitchen without another word.

Donnie watched in stunned silence as Splinter left the room. The genius let out a languid sigh before glancing at his hands where the silverware was placed and ready to be laid out. 5 forks, 5 spoons, and 5 butter knives…

Freezing a bit upon realizing he'd made the exact same mistake his father did.

"Yeah...force of habit..." Donnie muttered, placing the excess silverware to the side before setting the rest of the table.

Leonardo swiftly ran across the rooftop; feet quickly skirting over the harsh material under his feet. The wind biting as he jumped and landed atop the next building with hardened precision. Body a mass of muscle, blood, and flesh honed from years of meticulous training; his mind sharpened to the finest tip much like his swords…

Emotions were another matter entirely.

Annoying little inklings of regret and pain were never far from the forefront of his mind. Pinpricks of light breaking through dark clouds and were agonizing enough to want to drag him to his knees at times.

Everywhere Leonardo went, he swore there was always a flash of red in his peripheral.

Today was no different.

His mind cloudy and pained as he ran; a quick patrol to clear his head and keep himself from spending his days moping. It was one of the few things that kept him in check; kept him from completely caving into grief. Allowed him to be there for his family…

Suddenly, Leo turned a corner and he swore he saw Raphael's shadow skirt through his vision. Instead of feeding into the image, Leo ignored it. Feet moving faster as he leapt from building to building; refusing for his head to budge to the left or right. Forcing his eyes to stay straight; to not feed into his own delusions. A sudden whooshing noise filled his ear to his right and Leo could ignore it no longer.

Shifting his head to stare at the sound, he froze in his tracks.

Raphael was perched on the building over; tattered red hails flickering sporadically in the breeze, illuminating green eyes staring straight through him. There was a calmness on his face - the barest hints of a genuine smile pulling at his wide mouth. One that was rarely glimpsed in life and it shook Leonardo to his very core…

The image of seeing his dead little brother now alive - skin a rich emerald instead of ashen, eyes bright and filled with life - had his heart thumping painfully in his chest; pounding hard against his sternum as he stared at him. The more logical side of him knew it simply wasn't possible - that Raphael was indeed dead - but it all seemed far too real…

Leo's tongue was frozen to the bottom of his mouth.

Eyes burning with un-shed tears as he stared into Raphael's eyes; desperation pulling at him to speak, to go over there and hug him. Hold him close to him; feel his brother's warm scales underneath his fingertips. To tell him he loved him and missed him; that every day since his death had been a nearly unbearable hell on earth…

…to beg and plead for him to stay…

But Leo's mouth refused to move.

The need to blink was great; he barely even noticed when his body did it of his own accord but the split second they closed was enough.

The second they reopened, Raphael was gone…

Leo's head snapped this way and that hoping to catch a glimpse; that those few moments would return. That he would see Raphael alive and well…that this all was just some sick joke…His red-banded brother would be there smiling, shove at his shoulder and say, "Heh. I gotcha good, Fearless."

…but it wasn't…

Before he'd realized exactly what happened, Leo's knees hit the pavement with a harsh thud. Body shaking uncontrollably as he was hit with the dreadful reality again. Leo shook his head; trying to force his body from the ultimate breakdown. Doing his damnedest to stop from crying…but it was too late.

Leo let out a sharp cry into the night air; tears that burned the back of his eyes began trailing down his cheeks as he buried his face into his sodden hands and wept.

"RAPHAEL!" Leonardo screamed as he clawed desperately at the ground and fell completely apart.

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