#this has been in my drafts so long that it might as well be a fossil

[georgescitadel]

George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones (1/3)

You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.

Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.

As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.

In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.

The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.

In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.

‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

[dutifullylazybread]

just found you, i see a lot of pre and post family with the teefs. what about during? and directly after? how do they care for their partner during pregnancy? especially if its a diffcult one? and afterward when their partners body has changed and maybe they're less confident about the extra weight, softer body, the extra rolls and teh stretch marks that wont go away? how does each bachelor help or make it better ir suddenly realize that is even wrong to begin with? what if they accidentally something bring out that newly found weakness in their partners confidence? ( sorry if youre busy i know you got stuff to do- i just figured youre the person who could slam dunk these thoughts i had)

Have I... GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN JOIN THE TIEFLING HEAD CANON SQUAD???????

ADDED 4/26/24: This might be a rough list, but I hope you all enjoy!! ❤️

OKAY. I GOTTA ADD CAL. I'M ADDING CAL. THIS SWEET MAN IS A TIEFLING BACHELOR AND DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH FAN CONTENT... YET.

And thank you for bearing with me--I know that this ask was sent in a hot minute ago! I'm hoping I answered all of your questions; I got to a point of this sitting in my drafts where I just felt bad about how long it had been there, so I tried to be thorough but I wanted to get this out sooner rather than later. I mostly worked on this when I had a few spare moments between chapters, and then I said "screw it. This is getting done. TODAY."

So, for Cal, Rolan, Zevlor, and Dammon--let's go!

DISCLAIMER - I do not have children myself, nor have I ever been pregnant. So I shall do my best!

JUST IN CASE - A CONTENT WARNING: While writing these head canons, I did refer to the tiefling's partner as "you." If reading about being pregnant makes you uncomfortable for any reason, please be aware and be kind to yourself. I have zero doubt in my mind that I will be creating another head canon list, so if you need to pass or wait on this one, that's absolutely okay. Your mental health is important.

Cal

While Cal's partner is pregnant, he will do absolutely anything and everything to make sure they are comfortable. To say that he is doting is putting things very mildly.

He will make your favorite meals, will go out and get whatever you are craving (late night runs--not a problem), will rub your swollen ankles.

Too hot? He's asking Rolan for a cantrip scroll to fix it. Too cold? He's already piling you with blankets.

Are you feeling sick and nauseous? He's already prepping something for you to eat/drink that doesn't have an offensive smell.

And if it's a hard pregnancy? I don't see him leaving your side. If he does, he has Rolan create a sending stone set for the two of you so that you can reach out to him for anything and everything.

Honestly, he doesn't get far enough for him to even use the sending stones. He is looking for anything and everything to make the pregnancy easier on you. If he wasn't a light sleeper before, he is now because he doesn't want you to lay there in pain.

There may be points where he feels helpless because while he can do things to try and alleviate any physical discomfort, there are just times when he might just grasp at straws.

And, in situations where he can't alleviate your physical discomfort, he will do what he can to distract you.

He keeps his stress managed well enough, but that doesn't mean he won't snap at Lia or Rolan if he is too anxious. If he does get openly frustrated with them, it takes both off guard.

I also think he just holds you. A lot. Part of that is to comfort you, and the other part is to assure himself that everything will be okay.

If his partner is dealing with body image issues after giving birth, I see him being confused. You? The most enchanting person he has ever known?

Cut to him kissing you and holding you whenever possible. He'll ask Lia and Rolan to watch the baby whilst the two of you go on outings when your health permits. If it helps you to hear it, he'll remind you how lovely you are. Frequently. Hourly. Every five minutes? Not quite, but close enough.

Personally, I don't think his doting goes away after the pregnancy. And, if it is too much, it might make you feel like he views you as helpless.

If you give voice to this, he goes into immediate mediation mode. He will be extremely apologetic. He loves you and never wants you to think he perceives you as anything other than the phenomenal person you are.

Rolan

Ugh. My beloved.

He might be more stressed about having a child than you are.

He never anticipated being a father, and that might be for 15+ reasons, but he feels drastically unprepared (even if the pregnancy was planned).

He reads every. Single. Book. On pregnancy. He is the parent who gives himself nightmares when he reads about birthing complications.

Every sign of discomfort that you show is a catastrophe on the horizon.

And if it's a difficult pregnancy? Yeah. Dial that up by five notches.

He is preparing for all worst-case scenarios.

If it weren't for Cal and Lia keeping him in check, he would be safety-proofing everything in the tower.

He crafts sending stones so you can call for him if you need anything. ANYTHING.

But also, he starts shadowing midwives and asking lots of questions. If the worst were to happen and you couldn't reach a professional, he wants to be there to help you.

After giving birth, I see him splitting his anxiety between your health/recovery and the baby's overall well-being.

"The baby sneezed. That might indicate five different lethal illnesses. I'm fetching the cleric."

This is another situation where you, Cal, and Lia might have to remind him that, yes, babies do sometimes sneeze, and not everything that lands in the diaper spells doom.

Rolan might not initially understand why you're feeling self-conscious about any weight gain. Of course you're lovely. Also, isn't that what happens with pregnancies? (His words--not mine).

He assures you that you're lovely, but words might not be enough here. He might shove his foot in his mouth while trying to make the situation better.

But the best thing for him to do is remind you, repeatedly, that you are lovely. And that might not have been something he was accustomed to even saying to you prior to you conceiving. He would assume you knew that he was attracted to you.

It honestly might be the strangest (and most endearing) thing to have him say "You look very lovely today. Yes, even with the baby's spit up on your shirt."

Zevlor

*nervously staring at the tiefling I am the most unsure about writing.*

*cracks my knuckles and cries because it hurt like hell*

Zevlor has been through some of the most heinous things that can be thrown at someone. He is a seasoned soldier. A Hellrider. Surely he can help his partner through pregnancy. After all, there were plenty of soldiers in the barracks who has pregnant spouses. He's heard enough stories that he feels prepared.

He survived the Elturel's Descent. It's possible that he helped safeguard someone who was in the middle of giving birth or guided expecting parents to safety. Maybe he had to fight off the devil's skulking the streets if they caught wind/heard that person enduring birthing pains?

So maybe, he thinks, he has already seen some of the worst births ever. Maybe, he thinks, in this time of relative peace, in this home that he and his love have created, it'll be easier?

My personal headcanon for Zevlor is that he put EVERYTHING into being a Hellrider/paladin. It was his life. It was his every breathing moment. And when he became an oathbreaker, it destroyed him. His life was devoted to protecting others, and he feels that he failed in the worst of ways possible.

He certainly had friends and very possibly family that he would see on occasion, but I think that, if you didn't fight alongside him/live in the barracks too, you very likely didn't see much of him.

So maybe he has heard a great deal about pregnancies. And maybe he knows about the complicated ones--just a bit. But he himself is at a loss for when his partner tells him that they are pregnant.

Is he excited? Absolutely. Is he terrified. Oh yeah.

Regardless of how complicated the pregnancy is, he is nervous. He is worried that he will slip up in all the ways that matter, and he is terrified of letting you down.

He's a soldier though, and he prepares for everything.

He has additional blankets and pillows next to the bed.

Hot and cold compresses are ready to go.

He makes sure that he accounts for your cravings whenever shopping.

He has medicine for when the pain is severe. And when the medicine doesn't cut it, he tries his best to distract you--his mileage varies.

And this man adores you. So after the pregnancy, if you are feeling self-conscious, he will worship your body.

Dammon

I could see Cal and Dammon both being very doting, but Dammon would be juggling the forge and helping you.

If you spent a lot of time in the forge with him prior to pregnancy but find that being in there now makes you feel ill, he will absolutely feel lonelier. He is definitely the sort of person who gets very absorbed in his work, and I think this makes him feel guilty. Especially if he feels like him being there could have made things easier for you.

He becomes a meal prep king. Will cook several comfort meals for you to eat while he is working.

Massages swollen ankles and feet and anything else.

While he might have worked later hours in the forge before, he makes a point to wrap things up sooner to spend evenings with you.

That doesn't mean he isn't nervous--you're about to have a child, and he does worry if there will be enough money.

He worries that if he does slow down, commissions will dry up, and then where will that leave the three of you?

If the pregnancy is difficult, he feels guilty for leaving you alone and looks for hundreds of ways to make things easier.

Eventually, he creates a small sitting space for you near the doorway to the shop itself. It's not so close to the forge that you'll be uncomfortably hot or so close that the smell will make you sick, and he sets up a small tarp to create some shade.

If you helped Dammon in the forge before the pregnancy, he is likely hesitant to have you come back and immediately help. Especially if the birth was difficult.

But what you need, more than anything from him, is time

And Dammon wants to be a parent who is present in your life and the baby's, so he does everything to be there.

But money is still a stressor. And he might worry about you being in the forge again. So he's stressed on all fronts.

And while I don't see him commenting or changing how he treats his partner because of weight change, I do see him being VERY reluctant to have you work in the forge with him.

And this may lead to an argument. You know he is stressed about commissions and being there for you and the baby, but you still want to help.

So Dammon dials it back several notches and agrees that you know your body best. So long as you feel comfortable working in the forge, and so long as you listen to your body, the two of you can start it from there.

And it gets easier to balance the forge and child rearing. While the baby isn't allowed close to the open heat/flame until they fully understand why they must be careful (and until their lungs are developed), you and Dammon create a small swing/play area nearby.

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Yo! I really love your apocalypse yuu writings I keep coming back to see if it has updated.

I read the Lilia finds out part and when I read the "Epel gave Yuu an apple and he didn't know what it was" it got me thinking about it all night.

How would the first years react to Yuu not eating anything at all(probably other than bread) because he doesn't know what those foods are?

________________________________

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuus pronouns are he/him, although they're mentioned briefly

This is barely proofread so please excuse the grammar mistakes.

Featuring: Epel, Ace, Duece, Jack, and sebek (there is implied lilia at the very end but it is literally one sentence)

Warnings: Talks of starvation, Yuu's illness, and survivers guilt, so skip this if you're uncomfortable with any of that.

Also I know it's been over a month. I have no excuse. I just didn't feel like it. But I have been teaching myself how to draw so I can be a bigger simp to Jamil so that's fun ig.

________________________________

Damn bro, you really don't know shit huh?

Epel was excited, to say the least.

I mean, could you really blame him? It's not everyday that you get a big ol' crate full of the apples that you were raised with.

By all means, epel should've been long sick of eating apples. Having them almost everyday for majority of his life, dried and dehydrated in the winter, and fresh and juicy in the spring and summer.

But no, no epel felmeir loves those apples. Every single one he ate seemed to effortlessly send him back to the simpler times of his childhood. Where he would send hours upon hours avoiding his siblings and playing games with his cousins in the orchards and taking naps in the sun while he waited for his meemaws infamous apple pies to finish baking. And meemaw would almost always let him have the first slice! Of the ones she wasn't going to sell at least.

He really missed her...

He'd have to ask her to bake him another one this winter.

But just getting to read the letter she had wrote, along with his parents and one of the towns kids that always followed him around like a lost baby duck, put a smile on his face.

Yeah. He'd get to see them soon, and once he graduates, he can get them more money, and be strong enough to protect them if it ever came to that.

Unfortunately, as great as his parents apples were, they couldn't fight the natural forces of time.

Dear sevens- they'd sent him nearly three dozen apples! All high quality too... it shouldn't effect sales too much. The orchards were big, and his parents would rather give up that expensive family heir loom necklace that his mother always wore than start selling spoiled apples.

But still, epel couldn't possibly eat thirty-six apples before they all started to rot. Plus, he didn't know how long they took to ship to the isle of sages, so that cut the time frame even shorter.

.....Does Jack like apples?

Should he even be considering giving Jack an apple to begin with? Their relationship was pretty vague. We're they actually friends or just study buddies?

Study buddies can give eachother gifts too right? And plus, it's food, not a 24 carrot gold ring or something crazy like that.

It should be fine. Maybe he'll give one to ace too. They were friends. Surely.

.

.

.

Ace trappola would say he was a good friend. I mean, he wasn't the best by any means, but he was decent.

Yeah, he could be kind of a dick. But who isn't at this point, honestly, even deuce, even cater had their moments.

But he was still someone the people in his life could go to for things, usually physically, tangible this like food or an extra ball or something, but he wasn't completely useless when it came to emotions either.

You could come to him if something was bothering you. He probably won't help you actually fix it but he can at least make you laugh.

So why didn't you want to laugh?

You had taken your mask off a few weeks ago. And like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him he realized it was the first time he ever saw you eat any food here at all.

Were you eating at all before then? What about water?

Thank the seven you were only here for around a week. But surely, you were dehydrated.

(You were definitely dehydrated. Deuce gave you a water bottle and you chugged it like it was your only chance at life. Which, to be fair, it probably was your only chance at life.)

Ace didn't know what your life was like before.

Ace didn't want to know either.

He didn't do well with heavy topics, always changing the subject when one came up unless he was personally involved in some way.

Other people life didn't concern him, and that was something he lived by.

...but still.

This was going a bit too far, don't you think?

Ace shot a look to deuce, clear concern instead of the regular teasing, which caught his roomates attention faster than he thought it would.

Ok. So deuce had noticed too.

Just goes to show how obvious it was that something is very wrong here.

Now, because ace had never asked, and he probably never will, he didn't know what your relationship with food was like before you came here. But. It couldn't have been this right?

A person couldn't only survive on some bread and room temperature water, right?

You sat across from him at your guy's unofficial table in the cafeteria, drinking the water at a moderate pace, as you didn't want to deal with another scolding from a certain housewarden, doing your best to keep a careful eye on grim as he went to go get his food from the lunch line.

And thank the seven for that, really. If grim turned back and saw that you weren't watching him for even a second, who knows that kind of ruckus would result?

But all that aside, you were still scarily underweight. Seriously perfect, how were you even alive?

Ace looked at deuce again. Deuce looked back.

He sighed.

Ace never, ever thought he would do something like this.

But for sevens sake, you were one of his best friends. And Ace will be damned if he just let you do this to yourself.

So with a deep breathe, he looked at you, and then turned back to what he was pretty sure was an ex-gang member, and nodded.

And for once, deuce understood.

They had to do something.

.

.

.

You reminded Deuce Spade of that stray cat that his mother would always feed when he was a child.

Underweight, scared, scarred, and confused.

Always having an air if caution and paranoia, ready to react, as if anything could just jump out and grab you at any time.

But you weren't a cat, were you?

No. You were a person. Someone his age, maybe younger, that had obviously seen horrors he couldn't even understand. Which just made this whole situation even sadder.

Because if you lived like this, then what the hell was stopping him? What about his mother? What was stopping her from having the same fate?

Duece ignored the memories of his mother giving him food and taking none for herself, saying she wasn't hungry.

But he couldn't quite ignore them, nor could he ignore the pit in his stomach whenever he looked at you.

...Listen perfect, he doesn't know what you went through to be like this, but he knows damn well this isn't normal.

It can't be normal. Hiding this much food underneath your floorboards couldn't ever be normal.

The two of you were just hanging out in your room in Ramshakle. Grim was in the lounge, he was sure, and you had stared off into space before asking the date.

When he told you, you had a look of slight panic as you ripped the rug off from its place on the floor, and started pulling apart the boards.

And what for?

The reveal of a large stash of food, mostly non-perishables, but a few snacks here and there too.

Snacks that were about to expire, apparently.

You turned to look back at him, a sheepish look on your face, and what looked like a bag if chips in your hand.

Deuce didn't know what face he was making.

He just knew it wasn't one he'd want you to see

.

.

.

If someone were to ask Jack howl if he was your friend. He wouldn't know to to say.

I mean yeah, you helped save his entire dorms ass way back when, yeah, you and him absolutely went throught it during azuls little "episode", and yeah, the two of you had plenty of mutual friends.

But we're the two of you friends?

Jack wasn't sure.

Because by all accounts, you should be.

It didn't change the fact that you weren't. Not really. Not by his definition and not by yours.

So what were you?

Well, you weren't friends. That was already established. And you were too close to be acquaintances (he didn't think acquaintance fell asleep on each other in the botanical gardens, only to wake up five minutes till curfew and just haul ass back to their respective dorms with smiles on their faces), so...what did that leave?

Well... I guess it left this.

"Eat it"

"....huh?"

Jack didn't know you that well. But that didn't mean he couldn't see..this happening. And it definitely didn't mean he didn't care.

So here he was. Holding a pastrami sandwich about an inch away from your face, silently begging you to just shut up and eat it.

Come on perfect, he bought this with his own money. Just humor him, please.

You eyed the sandwich like it was the most untrustworthy thing you'd ever seen. Jack's not going to lie, it kind of hurt.

But it wouldn't matter if you ate it, so he sucked it up.

...at least he would if you'd actually take the fucking sandwich.

Seriously, it was starting to tick him off.

Jack briefly considered just varying off and giving the sandwich to ruggie or something, or just eating it himself. He wasn't the biggest fan of pastrami but who knows, maybe the school made it better.

Honestly, he probably would have done just that if the image if you leaning against the wall looking ready to pass out from, what he knew, was malnutrition.

The event itself actually happened around two weeks ago, give or take. Jack thinks the only real reason he remembers it so well is because, well, it was the moment.

The defining moment, the moment where it just clicked that something was very wrong here.

He already knew that of course, I mean, look at you.

But as it turns out, watching someone actively starve to death in front of you will keep you up at night.

His mind turned to ruggie for a split second, before forcibly shoving that thought down where all the other thoughts he didn't want to think about were.

Like that time when he was a kid with a crush on Vil....yeah, Jack's happy he got o er that one to say the least. Nothing against Vil, he's a great friend and all (they were friends right?), but them in a relationship? Yeah. No. Not happening. No thankyou.

...yeah.

Jack mentally slapped hi.self and proceeded to shove his weird thoughts down yet again and refocus on getting his not-quite-friend to eat.

You were leaning back a lot farther than you were a second ago, if you did that anymore you'd probably just end up on the ground.

...jack sighed. This was going to take a while wasn't it?

By the end of the lunch period, you had come to a compromise, jack you slip the sandwich with you and take the other half for himself.

You ended up splitting your half with grim, who reluctantly took it. You had actually eaten yours too!...after you took the while thing apart and inspected and obsessed over it like how he'd seen Rook do to his housewardens that one time!

But still, it was something.

It was a start. And that's really all he could ask for at this point.

.

.

.

Sebek didn't notice anything about you at first. And he didn't particularly care much either. He was a guard for sevens sake! He had a deep responsibility!

He had a crown prince, that he oh so admired, to protect! Not to mention silver, who he had to wake up at every given turn, and not to mention Lilia, who had recently been going harder on their training sessions.

So to waste his time with a human? With a weak little human that didn't even come close to his current list if priorities?

That's time he simply did not have!

...So why was he here?

He was supposed to be looking for his charge. His charge, who always seemed to wind up around the old, abandoned Ramshakle building and just dissappear in the nick of time.

It had been happening more and more lately, especially since that new perfect moved in.

He would be lying if he said he cared too much about him. Again, he didn't have time to be curious about some strange human boy with some strange past.

But still, he couldn't quite contain the way he jumped back when he'd first seen them.

Whoever he was, he looked so...sick.

...he didn't have time for this.

Turning back on his heel, he refocused his mind on finding his lord again, and quickl- wait- silver. Oh great sevens. Silver wake up!

Ok. Sebek really didn't have time for this.

...and yet.

Here he was, standing next to you, arms out ready to catch you at a moments notice if you really were going to collapse like he thought you were.

He hadn't been this close to you before.

And now he could see that you weren't just sick.

Great seven, you looked like you were dying...

Sebek zigbolt had always known humans were weak, fragile creatures. Never able to even light a candle next to faeries. Never able to light a candle next to him, and certainly not his young master.

But this was just pushing it.

Sebek was stronger than his human counterparts. He would long outlive them. He thought of silver for the shortest second and then quickly pushed that thought to the side. This was not the time. Buteven with those facts, sebek still knew that humans weren't made of fine glass. Even if the people in his homeland liked to act like it, Sebek still knew that humanity wasn't completely hopeless.

One strong gust of wind wouldn't knock them over.

One missed meal wasn't enough to do detrimental damage to their health.

Pulling one all nighter would barely put a dent in their day to day lives, aside from the obvious fatigue and.

But with you?

With you? Alwats looking like you could kneel over and die then and there on the classroom floor?

...

Sebek want so sure anymore.

.

.

.

Epel had eaten more apples than any normal person should ever be able to eat.

Sevens help him, his stomach.

Despite the waves of pain that shit through him every now and then, epel wasn't mad.

Yeah, maybe eating a whole eight apples in the span of two hours wasn't his smartest idea, but the sweet nostalgia that seemed to wash over him and warm his very soul? Yeah no, it was worth it.

So no. Epel felmeir wasn't mad.

And laying in a bed that was much too soft for his taste, a direct contrast from the slightly itchy blankets and the hard mattresses back home, epel glance over to the almost empty crate of apples that were sitting just under his work desk.

...As much as Epel wanted to eat them, he wanted to do this even more.

Epel sat up, ignoring his stomach pain the best he could, and began a mental list of all the people he knew. And then a silent debate over who deserved his families apples in the first place.

Ok. First up Ace.

Epel would say they were friends. Not close friends by any means, but friends nonetheless.

Epel could give him one.

Next was Jack.

...In all honesty, epel didn't know. We're they friends, or just simply homework buddies that occasionally hung out?

...he could spare one for Jack, maybe they'd be friends then if they weren't already.

Duece.

Yes. Just- just yes. That day on the beach had changed their relationship forever. Duece was like a brother to him at this point.

He was goddamn getting an apple.

Epel chuckled a little at the realization that he was treating this like one of those elimination gameshows his meemaw liked.

Ok...he had two apples left after that.

Sebek wasn't really his friend was he? He certainly didn't make it seem like he was. If anything, Sebek was trying his damnedest to make them all belive the exact opposite, really.

....maybe he should just give the apple to Rook.

Or Vil.

Maybe.

Ok. He has one apple left.

The two of you weren't really friends. But you were friendly. If nothing else, you had been nothing but kind to him so far.

And plus, you looked uh. Half dead. To put it nicely.

And so, with a smile on his face, epel took out the crate of apples and began placing them on a bag that would make them easier to carry around tomorrow.

He couldn't wait.

.

.

.

It's funny how your whole life can change in a single moment, especially when you don't even know what that moment was.

Why were you here? Where is here anyway? Surely, magic didn't exist right?

The air wasn't always this clean right?

Water wasn't readily available at the turn of a handle right?

People didnt...people werent...weren't....

Heh. Heheha.

Why.

Why were you here?

Why were you here?

Why you and not one of the kids? What the hell have you ever done but use up medical supplies in a fruitless effort to keep you alive.

Why was this world so...pretty. happy. Clean.

Why this world and not your own? What had this world ever done to deserve this luxury of life.

...What had yours?

What had you?

Out of all the base commanders, the medics, the farmers, or children, or any of the other apprentice kids that you sometimes had to work with.

You were here. And they were still trapped inside of that hell.

...You didn't deserve this.

You died. You were on that beach and you died.

You woke up in a coffin, but something told you this wasn't the afterlife.

That something being the blood that you coughed up the other day.

It wasn't from internal bleeding, you k ew that much. Rather, it was from you coughing so hard that something in your throat had ripped.

It really didn't matter. You had spent nearly half an hour in a panic, choking and trying to unclog your airways, while grim and the ghosts you had come to somewhat love, stood behind you, offering what little comfort they could.

It wasn't the first time this happened after all.

You were still bedridden for a good two days after that. Thank God for the weekend.

Time passed in a blur while you were like that. It always did, mostly because you were asleep ninety percent of the time. The other twn being dedicated to medicine and a vain attempt to get food you knew you couldn't stomach to stay down.

So no. This wasn't the afterlife.

It was just a beautiful second chance that you didn't deserve.

It was so confusing.

And this was so confusing.

What..is this weird red thing being handed to you?

Epel looked at you with a hopeful expression on his face. It reminded you of the little girl you used to look after...

You take the..thing.

Glancing over to your right, you watch Ace take a large bite out of it with a smile on his face.

Ok. So not poisonous. Good to know.

You saw Duece do the same thing.

You felt Jack staring at you, but you didn't dare look at him.

[huehoa17]

[mulling-over-milgram]

water in milgram and punishment

I was thinking about how water is consistently used as a punishment in amanes songs and wondered if it carries over in any other mv.

I don’t think the water only means punishment I think the water has multiple metaphors for example I think haruka’s being him sinking deeper and deeper into his mindset/drowning in the lack of attention/sinking out of view/not being able to be heard under water ect

But as for haruka in the context of this reading haruka along with amane has the most consistent use of water in his mv’s. We see water used for transitions and there is lots of imagery of him drowning and sinking deeper and deeper into the water. We see haruka stop his younger-self and push him into the water? crayon puddle?

The line during this moment talks about haruka’s mother yelling at him/punishing him and haruka sinks deeper into the water. Theres probably some conformation bias here but I do think that the theory still holds up so far.

We see water the most in mu’s mv’s during the bullying of rei and mu. Rei was being punished for stepping in and trying to stop mu’s group from bullying others so they then started to /got more intense with bullying Rei. Then when they bullying turned back on mu I’d also consider that punishment because what ever rei told mu’s group to get them to bully her was probably something which the friend group felt they had to punish mu over.

The water punishment theory is definitely the least reachy with Amane. We actually see her being punished with water in both her mv’s. When she’s punished by having the cat killed/on her way home to punish her mother it starts raining , there are always rain clouds in the real world shots (the constant threat of punishment) but it doesn’t start running till that shot.

Mahiru as far as I understand thought she was loving her boyfriend but actually she was hurting him punishing him? He was drowning in it.

Stuff that doesn’t fit the metaphor (aka all of meme)

I feel like milligram has a theme/asks questions about punishment

it right to punish the wrong? Dose punishment accomplish anything? Dose anyone ever deserve punishment? I feel like there is something here with the water but I can’t piece it together…

[the-algebra-thing]

no, it's—it's—they taught me a lot of things, not all of which have been true. there's more beyond the reef. there's more beyond the reef. how do you know that it's real? I mean, sometimes I don't know... if ... my thoughts and actions, and... even my own humor and things that I say—are really what I would—or if I'm just pretending. how do you know I'm not just pretending, when I don't even know? I gaped at her as if she'd asked why I drew breath. I couldn't tell her that lying wasn't so much something I did as something I was. the borderlands of madness used to have much sterner signage than they do now. if one believes there is truth in art—and I do—then it's troubling how similar the skill of performing is to lying. maybe lying is itself a kind of art. I think about that more than I should. I was hoping... when we live through this, no matter what we decide to do, if you could help... if you could help me, I guess, learn to... learn to live as... who I am. when I find that out.

I have to do this. it's my destiny. even if it's not my fault it's still my accident. it's still my mess. it's still something that exists because I do, right? I need to give it... everything I've got. I don't know another way. I... it doesn't matter. this is what I'm supposed to do.

why did you bring me here? I'm not the right person. you have to choose someone else. ...choose someone else! please! and that was the truth, but it was also terrible. I did not know how to contain such a contraction inside myself. I kissed his cheek in parting, trying to reassure him, though I no longer had any notion whom or what to pray to.

but I'm not fragile. I won't be fragile. I refuse. you are not helpless. it was an answer to a question I had never asked; a way to fill the dread emptiness into which I had been born. I've been on this incredible journey, and I've seen and learned so much! don't I get a say in what happens to me? don't I get a choice? no! this has to stop, now. it was you! it was ALL you! I've spent my entire life hiding from people who would use me for my powers, when I should have been hiding... from you. no. no! I won't! my destiny was to be a part of your machine, but I won't ever let you use me again. this is NOT my destiny! I won't be controlled. I am not a weapon. and I am going to end this now! how will destroying worlds bring peace? there is one sin that even when you fail me, I want you to know. that I try to bury, but that I will not bury any longer. because my last sin is that I hate you. I. HATE. you. for waking me up, every day, to watch me fail, over and over again, and to watch me fall, and to get me back up the next day to do it again. if I'm burning a bridge, let it burn! I will not stop! every day for the rest of my life, I will never stop trying to get away from you! I feel like it would take a millennia to understand you, but you will no longer put these thoughts into my brain of who I'm supposed to be. you were wrong about the world, and you were wrong about me! what could I possibly have done to deserve the way you treated me? I am nothing like you. and so I know what lies before me. another failure; another disappointment. but I tell you this now, because when I fail this time, I don't want to do it any more as the weapon you sharpened. I want to do it as not just the person you made me, but the person I have become. I'm sorry I couldn't be... the chosen one that you wanted. I'm not even the chosen one I wanted.

I didn't even realize I started doing it alone. but you're right; you're right. the music ended and I let go of him, but he did not let go of me. all the hurricanes and earthquakes and fires and storms cannot break you, if you remember a few things. we are here to love with our whole hearts. I can tell now I'm different somehow than what I was before, and maybe, at last, this is really me. it is profoundly, unsettlingly right. I'd been dealing in shadows before. and... that doesn't change who you are, even if it's confusing. everything we've been through? that's real to me. that was exactly what I'd felt—it almost brought tears to my eyes to remember—but Abdo's eloquent explanation still didn't capture it. you couldn't put words on something like that. heaven, gods—these were concepts far too small. I thought my life was over and there was nothing left to live for. I was so, so wrong. the list of things to live for is limitless and it is possible to be happy again. you will change the world with your joy and your hope. and everything life ought to be—it's all gonna happen to me out there! I stepped from the carriage into sunlight, into the crowd, smiling. I walked myself into the world.

gillion tidestrider; jrwi riptide · moana; moana · rumi/peter; jrwi apotheosis · seraphina/orma; seraphina by rachel hartman · adora/catra; she-ra and the princesses of power · moonwatcher/clearsight; wings of fire books 6 and 12 by tui t. sutherland · rapunzel/cass; tangled

[wenomsnake]

snake x otacon - snake & friends ♡

3.7k childhood friends to lovers au, mutual pining and pure fluff // read it over here (in progress)

“Uh, hi everybody,” he squeaked in his usual fashion. He felt himself shrink back into his white coat and into his shiny new sneakers, willing the ground to swallow him up. “I’m Hal Em- Emmerich. I moved here from, uhh, L.A…”

Hal shrunk into himself even more as he felt the eyes of everyone in his class on him. Now feeling like his presence was proverbially dwarfed by even his backpack, embarrassed thoughts about being younger and smaller than everyone in this class raced through his mind, even though it was his gifted nature that earned him a place in classes beyond his years. He was mousy and he knew it. It wouldn’t take much to eat a guy like him alive.

He felt Dave’s eyes on him like when they’d first met, gaze still as piercing blue as ever. It would hardly be wise for a mouse to approach a snake, but he did so anyway after he was released from his too-public introduction, his sneakers squeaking their way to his designated seat right next to Dave.

In another life, Outer Heaven is just a name for David’s front yard, and Solid Snake is a hero that only exists on the playground. Hal and David grow up together and save the world.

[witchaotics]

@vullcanica || for Nik.

The antique shop was quite charming and Morgan just had to have a peek at its wares. He browsed carefully, admiring the furniture and knick-knacks for sale, there was a section in the back for spells and other magic-related items and he took the opportunity to look at those as well.

There was a man with long dark hair and dark blue eyes. Morgan gave him a friendly smile. "Do you work here?"

[mooonsherbet]

34/  ∞ days of kang jiyoung

[theygotlost]

this is kind of hard for me to articulate but I really like the way that tanigaki was inducted into the main cast. like with a lot of other characters gk will be like "look here is our New Character here is their name and their whole deal right off the bat" but it's impossible to foresee how big of a role tanigaki will play based on the first time you see him. like he was literally just some guy in the 7th division, on orders with a group of other random guys to hunt down sugimoto and asirpa, and he could have very easily been abruptly killed like the other guys were. he could have been carted away with his broken leg and never seen again. but the way you learn more about him and the way he becomes more important to the story all feels very natural and organic and i like that i think its neat and it just feels. real

[cryss-heart]

An Assortment of Genshin Headcanons

To be honest, these are less headcanons and more just...... the concepts and mechanics in our AU Teyvat. Still, have fun reading this monster of a post.

Visions

Before the Archon War, any and all Vision users were considered gods. It's not hard to: they live far, far longer compared to non-users (perhaps even forever!), and their powers get stronger with time. The downside is that their appearance also start getting warped in many ways:

Pyro users typically start out with higher body temperature than a normal person. As time goes on, their body parts might turn red, or their eyes gain the ability to glow in the dark. The oldest, most powerful Pyro users have hair made of flames.

The opposite of Pyro, Cryo users of course start out with lower body temperature. Their skin may turn paler and paler due to the increasingly lowering temperature, and could possibly end up looking frostbitten, though they feel no pain. Their nails might become icicles, and some have been known to shake snow out of their hair with every step they take.

Hydro users' skins typically start feeling wet or slimy. They might start growing aquatic scales, fins, and gills, but some might acquire the ability to breathe underwater even without the latter. In extreme cases, they've been known to develop aquatic tails, or have their legs fuse into one. Their hair at first only takes on the appearance of being constantly drenched, but might morph into actual cascading waterfalls. Peculiarly, records suggest a select few gain hypnotic singing abilities.

Flowers start blooming in a Dendro user's hair. As time goes on, even their hair itself turns into vines and leaves, and they may have taken on a green colouration. They begin releasing floral fragrances, and have no shortage of birds and bees following them around. There have been a few that gain animalistic features such as equine lower halves or laquine legs and ears, but those are far and few between; the ones who do possess such features typically already have them since birth.

In the beginning not much difference is observed in Electro users, save for an increase in energy. Their hair might start becoming frizzy and unkempt from all the static, despite how much the user might dote on it. Just like a Pyro user, as the years go by, their eyes might gain the ability to glow, and their skin might start taking on a purplish hue, perhaps with its own glow. They are always accompanied by a slight buzzing no matter where they go.

Geo users become more and more... well, dirt- and rock-like. Their skin hardens, their hair becomes mud and rock. As they grow older and more powerful, they grow spines and fangs of stone.

Gods

As stated above, before the position of Archon was established, all Vision users and strong elemental beings were considered gods. They each had their own specific domain. For example:

Lupus Boreas, the God of Snowstorms. When the wind howls amidst a tundra, one knows it is His might one is witnessing.

Decarabian, the God of Storms. Hurricanes of unimaginable destruction are His doing.

Barbatos, the God of Gentle Breezes. When the wind caresses a weary traveler's face, guiding them home, it is Barbatos that wills it.

Guizhong, the God of Dust. Every speck in a house long abandoned or a shelf unattended is Her child.

Morax, the God of Stone. The brick and mortar that mortals make their home with are His gifts.

Guoba, the God of Stove. When you hear a mother calling her children in for dinner, know that He blessed them with the means to make such foods.

Havria, the God of Salt. The sour of the sea, the seasoning in one's food.... that is Her gift to Teyvat.

One might notice that some Gods have "mixed" jurisdictions---that is to say, the domain they reside over appear to be a mix between the modern Elements. For example, Lupus Boreas appears to reside over something that is a mix of Cryo and Anemo. This is because.... well, because there are no Elements. The Elements we know now, and their respective characteristics, were defined by the Gods who won the Archon War.

Vision Golems

All things are made equal: the mightiest of dragons and the puniest of slimes are made of the same elements, after all. There was a way to artificially construct elemental beings, using a Vision as a focal point---though such methods have been long lost to the sands of time. These constructs, dubbed Vision golems, do not feel pain (but can be incapacitated due to injury) and cannot be killed by conventional means---they can only be destroyed by destruction of their Vision cores. As elemental creatures, they are not harmed by contact with their own element and may, in fact, be strengthened by it. Conversely, they are able to cause reactions simply by existing together with other elements, and can be seriously injured by an element they're weak towards. The shape they take on depend on the amount of purity of the element used in their formation: a relatively small, impure amount may yield a slime, and a bountiful concentration of pure element could spawn a dragon. These creatures are sentient, and typically bound to the whims of their creator.

[azurechicken]

after doing nothing but work for a long while and working 14 hours in a day for two days, i'm having the high of finally being free for a few hours and getting my paycheck in the same day???? i should work some more before bed but its just so hard to go back to now 🙃

[chuluoyi]

LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

[busybeesbuzzing]

So this is a first for me but last night I had the BIZARRE experience of having a dream where Jensen Ackles was my professor for a class of some sort? But like that he showed up late having come from obviously something for the premier of the new Winchesters series and was still in Dean mode and struggling to focus and teach the class. And idk what the course was for but the lecture turned into some sort of rant/pitch for the new series/Supernatural in general. It’s already fading but basically the lecture was like something about how the different forms of love as we conceptualize them arose from our trying to understand love as created by an indifferent and selfish god who requires unquestioning loyalty and obedience when such a requirement is philosophically incompatible with his other most notable creation, Free Will? And that the historic struggle to reconcile the two may sound esoteric and inaccessible to the common lay people (and that certain SOMEONES may insist that it can only ever be considered a Mystery as in one of the Mysteries of organized religion like the questions of Original Sin and Evil forgiveness only obtainable through Sacrifice and Resurrection), but it is actually something so personal and intrinsic to our actualization? And that reconciliation of the two is conceptualized through this perfectly imperfect narrative that asks us to consider love in a backdrop that spans from from the initial struggles of a man and woman to embody the ideals of Romance and Family when their being together is solely the collateral of the mechanizations of outside forces to bring about the end of some Greater Thing to the literal fall of all angels whose sole purpose of their eons-long existence was the embodiment of love as perfect dedication? And that something something the use of the word sass-holic pronounced as sass and asshole? And that the ultimate thesis of the story (and at this point he is hitting his palm against the podium, almost yelling in his emphasis) is that FRIENDSHIP is the MOST SACRED form of Love upon which our actualization hinges and that as such it is our responsibility to bring the narrative to fruition with the ONLY. SATISFACTORY. CONCLUSION. which is the explicit positing of the new conclusion that FRIENDSHIP is the original impetus for and can only be fully realized through MARRIAGE.

And then I guess He realized that he had gotten a bit off track because I don’t think the class was even like a philosophy or theology or any related subject course so he started jogging laps around the room to try to refocus himself from the rambling back to whatever we were supposed to be learning but he was still sort of agitated and rambling and then when he got back to the front of the room he turned around as someone stepped into the classroom from the doorway behind us all and his eyes just sort of widened and his expression went all open and vulnerable, you know, in That Look and I very suddenly and very immediately was kicked from the dream and woke up just straight fully awake at like 4 in the morning.

All of which is to say either Jensen Ackles subconscious pitch for The Winchesters just paid my dreams a visit OR I just witnessed The French Mistake 2.0 and the actual DeanCas proposal moment. 

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ I WANT THE YOU WHO WANTS ME AGAIN ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage, some comfort, in the end, | wc: 4.5 K | not proofread

warnings: death of a parent through sickness (unspecified), cheating (gojo with geto), r! goes through it (lmao), megumi is rooting for r!

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

Perhaps at one point in your arranged marriage, you had loved Satoru but that’s all but vanished away when you see how he looked at Geto. Still, you provide comfort to your husband when he seeks you even if his six eyes (and soul) all bear to you that he does not see you. Satoru realizes too late that he cares for you - that he loves you. He despises your empty stare, he wants you back. He desperately wants you back.

authors note: i know i said i was taking a break but writing this made me feel a little bit better — cathartic almost. it's been in the drafts since last year anyways so might as well. (autumn leaves by bts inspired fic)

It seemed as though even the clouds were pitying the sight before it. Grey and darkened, they gathered to block the sun as whispers of doubt combed through the trees surrounding the temple — they reach your ears despite the attempts of your mother. "Now, don't you look handsome". She tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, pursing her lips at the look in your eyes. "(Y/N)". Her hands grasp at your face. The warmth of someone's hands on your cheek jitters your brain awake, and your pupils contract back into focus. "Have you been eating well, darling?" For a moment, your heart squeezes at her kind words. It's been so long since another had asked you that question so sincerely. The tears well but your hair sways as you shake your head, urging your cheeks to form a smile. "I'm alright, mom. Just getting over a cold". She brushes her thumb over your cheek then presses a kiss to your forehead. "My son". You're pulled into an embrace and suddenly you're little again — clinging to her after she had bandaged you up from your training session. Your eyelashes darkened as tears slip past them, hands trembling as you grip her tightly. "My beautiful son". Eventually, the sun sets but the rain continues to pour. The sounds of the raindrops are violent, accompanied by flashes of lightning and thunder it seemed as though the Gods were angry. Angry Gods do little to scare your father. He gazes at you coldly from where your head is laid upon your mother's lap. Defiantly, you avoid meeting his eyes as you relish in the fingers smoothing out your hair. "Your husband will not be pleased with this," your mother's glare is reproachful. "Our son has come to pay us a visit, his husband needn't worry about him," his nostrils flare and he looks as though he's about to go on another rant about image, expectations, manners, servitude. But before he could, the shoji door slides open. It's one of the servant girls, her bow immaculate you could see the swirl pattern of her hair growth. "Gojo Satoru has arrived, Master (L/N)" She's addressing your father, you know because you are now Master Gojo. The air is filled with expectations. The rain does little to muffle it. Pitying her back, you rise from your mother's lap. "Inform my husband I'll be out in a moment" She bows deeper and straightens her composure to slide the door close but freezes as you address her. "Is my husband alone?" When her mouth opens to form the syllables of Geto Suguru your eyes turn to the floor. You're unsure if she's finished her sentence but find very little fucks to give as you silence her with raise of your hand. Wordlessly, she bows and closes the door.

"Ah, husband!" he slings his arm around your shoulder. His weight, his warmth, his presence — too casual it's an insult. You cared little for tradition, scoffing at it sometimes, but the way Satoru displays himself in front of your parents causes you to grit your teeth. Suguru shoes are in the peripheral of your vision, you will your gaze to the side.

Once upon a time, the four of you were friends. Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and you.

Those blue summers and warm winters as first-year sorcerers. Memories so bright and heartfelt others probably only see on movie screens. Then you were betrothed to Gojo Satoru, family stuff, expectations and duty, and everything the both of you roll your eyes at. A part of you had been elated. Blinded by the idea of marrying the boy your heart beats for. Sure, falling in love would have been preferred but despite the arranged marriage, you were thick as thieves. So, in your foolish daydreams, you'd sigh at the idea of you two falling in love. Shoko could only watch as your dreams crumble before you. She tried her best to be some sort of support — shocked when she spotted you smoking her cigarettes after a year into the marriage. "I never noticed the way they look at each other". Your words follow the stream of smoke and Shoko settles next to you with her elbows placed on the railings. "I mean, I knew but I just thought...I just thought he'd look at me the same one day". She is silent as you curl over the railing, shoulders jerking with silent sobs. "How foolish, huh?" She places a hand on your back, saying nothing as you wept.

Suguru greets your parents with more tact than your husband who is smiling ear-to-ear. "How was your mission, Gojo, Geto?" the way their surnames sounded made your jaw ache as you continued locking your jaw. Your husband is squeezing you to his side, like a friend. Satoru feels your shoulders stiffening and he loosens his grip to look down at you but you slip out from under him and hastily walk towards the car. "Young Master —" a servant gasps as he attempts to match your pace, the umbrella he holds barely shielding you as you feel your tears mix with the rain. "(Y/N)!" Suguru calls, catching up to you with his own umbrella and you feel searing guilt stab at your chest. Suguru had never been mean to you — he's been there for you through the years and despite your sudden avoidance of him here he was trying to ensure you remained dry. A clap of thunder muffles your sob, the only mercy the Gods are giving you, and you will yourself to pass Suguru. The car door is slammed shut in Suguru's face and before he can wonder the driver is driving off. He stands in shock, the servant that had been chasing you sharing his expression. Satoru tilts his head, hands in his pockets as he Suguru gives him a look of apprehension once he reaches him. Your parents — his in-laws — are apologizing. More so your mother. Your father's anger is palpable despite his puckering lips. "We'll get you another car, Gojo, Geto" your father calls for his personal driver

Satoru’s eyes — with that bright, heavenly, blue that put the sky to shame — linger on the fading signature of your aura. Suguru’s bangs stick to his forehead due to the rain and the sight of him alone has Satoru tear his gaze away. They land on Suguru who offers a furrow of his brows and so Satoru reaches to wipe the wetness away.

“Hey!” the action is rough, anything but romantic. Suguru feels like a cat being pet too roughly — with their skin stretching back and eyes growing wide — and so he smacks Satoru's hands away.

Friendly. Playful. Banter. Boys being boys.

Your mother squints her eyes nonetheless. She had heard that Satoru had been less than willing to marry. Her husband had thought it was his hubris but bowed until his forehead met the floor of the Gojo clan’s home. Their name was no laughing matter — a strong line of curse users much like the Zenin’s.

But Gojo Satoru was sought after by many the second he turned 16 — the marriage proposals flooded in like a tsunami.

He refused them all. Except the (L/N)'s.

She had thought it was the dowery. Perhaps, even the fact that an alliance would soothe whatever ill tides their clans had once had. Or maybe it really was just a stroke of luck her son got along so well with Satoru while attending Jujutsu High (her husband had enrolled (Y/N) only when he heard whispers of Satoru attending).

But fear gripped her heart as Suguru tugged on Satoru’s ear.

Had he accepted...just so he could remain close to his true love?

“I’m sorry”. You pause the wiping motion, delicately lifting your head as your mother’s cloudy gaze floats aimlessly in the room. You were used to her nonsensical speeches, her random bursts of conversations and weepy apologies. It's been a year since the sickness unexpectedly came over her and you suppose that is what most people do when they’re close to death's door. Confessions of this and that just shooting out in a weak attempt to right old wrongs.

“Nothing to be sorry for, mother”. She places a hand over yours and squeezes. How frail. When has your mother looked so frail?

“Come home, be a (L/N) again”, confusion contorts your face. “Mother, whatever you’ve heard is all unfounded. Rumours. Father has dealt with them”, despite her fragility her fingers squeeze your wrists so tightly it forces your own to release the damp cloth.

“Then say that to me. Look into my eyes and tell me that bastard husband of yours is better than mine, that he’s not off loving another while you rot here”.

Colour bleeds into those lifeless eyes. She feels that same squeeze she felt when she saw Satoru wipe away the rain from Suguru’s skin rather than your tears just a year ago.

Just as quickly as they appear, that dullness returns in your eyes and she reaches to hold your face but you stand.

“Father is cheating on you?”

She’s lost you.

You walk to dip the cloth into the bowl, and your shoulders are too heavy for a 17-year-old boy. Her precious son, so forlorn and withdrawn; humiliated by the society he was in for being inadequate and unworthy.

Perhaps she deserved those titles, sick and bedridden and dying, it was no surprise that her husband is seen courting younger ladies. But not you, not her son.

“He’s no shame, you know your father. His pride comes before all”. It elicits a dry chuckle from you.

Then you suppose Satoru had more in common with your father than you knew.

The Star Plasma vessel incident, you can't believe it's been a year.

A year after that man that killed that Amanai and Kuroi and Satoru.

You remembered dropping to your knees as he admitted it out loud with such an ugly smile, shaking your head in disbelief as anger swelled within you.

Before you could even think, even grieve and rage, Geto had beaten you to it. As you looked at him with his anger so visceral it came off of him in waves you felt your torn heart crumble into pieces. It felt good to dish out that anguish on Fushiguro Toji even if you ended up eating dirt.

“Wasn’t he your husband?” Toji placed his foot on your neck. “Damn, he treats you that badly or something? This freak put up a better fight”, that day you had surprised Toji by smiling with your teeth all bloody.

“He did, didn’t he?” Your laughter bubbles and you choke on your own blood.

Toji knocked you out after a scoff.

That still wouldn’t have killed you as much. The torn pieces of your heart were still salvageable.

But then.

Then.

As Satoru came back. Warm and alive. Bloody but grinning. He did not race to you, he did not even look at you. To his credit, he simply stood there with his arms wide open.

But then.

Then.

Geto’s the one to race into them.

Ah.

Right.

Shoko was shocked to see you in her smoking spot. She hadn’t even seen you as Satoru was whisked away by the Gojo clan, only spotting Suguru following along. None had wondered where Satoru's husband was; Suguru was always next to him, so there was no void that one could spot.

“Are you alright?”

The darkness in your eyes makes her flinch.

You were dead.

She’s been around enough of death and you were dead.

Your once warm, cheerful, eyes now devoid of anything.

She held you as you cried, not knowing what more she could say to help you.

“Leave me alone”, Satoru is under the covers. He has been for days now.

Grieving.

Grieving Geto.

“Husband”, you coax. It was once a funny joke. The laughter you shared as the both of you exchanged formal titles of your marriage. It hurt to know that it truly was a joke for Satoru - not for you.

Satoru grits his teeth. His eyes were rimmed red, he himself was surprised they weren’t swelled up. His throat was scratchy, his skin uncomfortable and untended from his refusal to get up. His hair was tousled, unkept and disarrayed. It's been a week since Geto's betrayal and Satoru had been laid in your bed, burying himself under the blankets and deeper into the mattress; as if determined to be buried with his sadness and anger.

“Husband," he feels your hands on his shoulder. You know him by his shape alone. If you closed your eyes you could trace the curves that made up Satoru; even if it killed you slowly, your love was a loyal curse.

“Don’t call me that!” he raises in a grand move. The covers flew and his voice was in a yell. His glare was spine-chilling but they faltered as he saw the outfit you were.

“What should I call you then, Satoru?”

He takes you in, frowns deepening at the awful way his name sounds as you call for him. Not like his Suguru; his one and only.

“What the hell are you wearing, (Y/N)?”

He feels awful as you answer: “Funeral garbs. My mother has passed”.

There’s some satisfaction that paints your features as he is rendered speechless.

“What? How?”

“She was sick”. As he sits there with nothing to say you move to kneel in front of him. Your touch shocks him to reality. He pulls his shirt down, hoping you haven’t seen the hickeys Suguru had left on him before he decided to massacre that village.

You had. You’ve seen all of it. The lingering scent of Geto on his clothes, the hair ties on his wrist, the love bites that mottle his pale skin. Satoru may have those six heavenly eyes but he seemed so blind when it came to you.

The way he grimaces each time you’ve said his name now.

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll help you wash up, Gojo”. He’d be an idiot to have not noticed that switch. Guilt is seeded into him. He stops your hands but you move them with a robotic stubbornness.

“Stop — Wait —”

“I know, Gojo.”

Silence drapes the room.

Your hands carefully thumb into his heart and cover the seed of guilt with such care Satoru’s pulse doubles its speed.

“I know you love him. So very much. I know, because when I go to clan meetings, my cousins whisper behind my back of the two of you holding hands and going on dates. When you come back late after a mission to go to Geto’s room. Or when you suddenly have Geto’s marks on you and yours on him”.

“(Y/N) — ”

“But this is my mother, Gojo”.

Your voice wavers just as he clutches your wrists in his hands. Your head hangs as your shoulders jerk up and down, twisting and squirming so you can help Satoru clean and dressed.

You know he was in pain and your heart feels for him. He needs your help. You were willing to strip down so you could wash him, and get back into this disgustingly heavy robe all over again despite how nauseating it was to do it the first time.

Funny. You can’t recall ever being one with Satoru. Your marriage was never consummated — he told you that there was no rush, you were still kids. What did he tell Geto then? Did he tell him that he had never taken you in bed? Was he fervent in his worship of him? Was their love akin to a religion? Did they worship each others temples like devout monks? How funny. The first time you’d get to see him naked and him you would be the day of your mothers funeral.

“She was my mother, Satoru!”

He has never heard you yell before. Satoru is struck by the that revelation.

It’s been a year since he was officially titled your husband and he knew you longer than that. But this was the first time he’s seen you in despair. Heard your yell.

Seen you cry.

“Please, I know he was your one and only but she was my mother. Please, please, don’t let me face this alone, Gojo”

“(Y/N)...”

“Please, Gojo...”

Your wrists slip away from his loosened grip. Crumpling onto the floor, your forehead meets the floor and his feet as your beg.

"(Y/N)". How long had your mother been sick? Why didn't you tell him — or did you? Why couldn't he remember? As his mind races to collect any memory of this past year, your tears that wet his feet water that guilt.

Satoru says nothing as the both of you appear at the funeral. The haughty eyebrows and curled lips sting more when he's there — was it shame? This burning feeling in your chest? Had you said too much to Satoru? Now he was acutely aware of how others looked at you, at your marriage. How awful.

Satoru is not used to this feeling. As a child, the eyes that lingered on him were hungry for the prize of beheading him. That had been more comfortable than this.

This was scrutinizing. They gazed on you with pity, even with his body attempting to shield you, the whispers reach your ears anyways. Have you been doing this all alone? All those clan meetings that you went to alone, the ones he'd excuse himself from saying he had a mission while he spent the day with Suguru to make him eat more and attempt to nurse him back to his side from the Star Plasma vessel incident.

Suguru had wept to him, telling him how terrified he'd been at the thought of Satoru leaving him. Why didn't you come to him? No. Why hadn't he noticed you?

The ride back home was silent. Satoru couldn't believe your father had brought his bride-to-be to the ceremony, you quelled his anger by muttering that your mother had given her blessing for their marriage.

You're staring out the window. Had those bags always been under your eyes? When did your cheeks get so sunken in? Had you...had you lost weight? He ignores the way your fingers twitch as he places his hand over yours. Your skin feels foreign — so does his. He offers a purse of his lips, sliding his hand up your arm and leaning in to embrace you.

But freezes as you pull your hand away.

"Don't force it upon yourself, Gojo". "Husband —" his smile falls as your shoulders tighten, lower lip quivering. "Please don't make me beg again, Gojo."

"What do you think, beloved?" Gojo grins brightly, bouncing his brow up and down. You were seated across from him in some cafe — he had been telling you all about how good the crepes here was a week before. "About...?" He pouts and places his elbows on the table. "My theory?" He watches as you blink, once, twice, then a faux smile climbs on your face. You turn your attention back to the melting ice cream. "Your theory about Okkotsu cursing Rika because of his love for her?" He nods vigorously. "It makes sense, right? His curse technique activating after seeing that brutal sight, it binding Rika to him". "Afterall, love is the most powerful curse", you said. Gojo's animated hand motions pause. He places his hand back onto the table. He reaches for your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut but allow it. He hates this.

Not you — He doesn't hate you. But he hates this.

After your mothers funeral, he looked through pictures. As first year students, all sunny smiles and bright eyed. The smiles got more tame as the four of you aged. His hands slung around Suguru's more tightly — even after they bared matching rings.

Satoru's never seen you smile like that anymore.

He brushes his thumb over your knuckles. Your jaw clenches.

"I love you, my beloved".

"...Thank you, Gojo".

"It's been awhile, Satoru".

No. No, no, no.

Nononononononnonononononononononononono —

Gojo can't take his eyes away from Suguru.

He tries and tries and tries but he can't. Pinned by his onyx gaze alone.

Satoru's ring burns viciously and he curls his fingers into fists.

Meanwhile, your dead-eyed gaze seemed to intensify. Everything is muffled, it felt like you were underwater. It felt like you were 17 years old again.

Abandoned. Unworthy. Unloveable. In love. Always have been. Always will be. In love with a man that was never yours.

"(Y/N), you look pale", Suguru condenscends. At least, that's what it sounds like.

Hah. Was he envious? Did he think that in the years he's been gone, you've filled the void he left? Or did he know that you never did but he was jealous anyways?

Fuck, Satoru thinks. His temples feel taut as his teeth grit together.

Kento steps infront of you and your eyes widen by an inch.

How pathetic, Gojo (Y/N). An underclassmen protecting you from your husbands ex-lover's gaze.

Why couldn't Geto Suguru just die already.

"What are you doing?" Gojo is grieving again. You should be elated but you're not. It feels too cruel. It wasn't your doing, you hadn't had any hand in killing Geto Suguru but a part of you wondered if your inner thoughts had been a wish you put out to the world. Now, Gojo was without Geto and Geto's daughters were without their father.

So you felt guilt anyways.

It was more feasible competing for Satoru's affections when his lover was simply exiled. How could you compete with a ghost?

"I'm praying for him", you replied. Gojo watches as you prepare to do so, kneeled on the floor. His eyes are rimmed with red again and he knows you've heard his cries; so here you are, sacrificing your happiness again for him.

"You don't have to do that, beloved". You say nothing as your eyes are closed in prayer. Satoru kneels behind you, his guilt had 10 years to grow and now it was a willow tree, with its leaves sweeping the lake of tears it grew from. Your eyes flutter open as you feel his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder; he fit so perfectly there, just like you knew he would. He's crying into your shoulder and your hand reaches back to card through the shaved sides of his hair. Your fingers lightly brushing the shell of his ear makes him shudder and he circles your waist to pull you against him. "Don't pity me, Gojo". He says nothing and neither do you.

"Say my name". His voice so close to your ear has you shivering.

"Gojo".

He shakes his head.

"My name, please, please, just say it".

Your heart clenches and as you close your eyes a tear slips past.

"I can't replace him, Gojo". He squeezes you tighter.

"I'm not asking you to replace him. No one can replace Suguru. I don't want them too, I don't want you too; I want you".

"I don't believe you".

He laughs, the slightest brush of his teeth on your skin has your stomach twisting into knots. Your breath trembles and you squirm in his hold, twisting away and getting onto your feet to get away from him. He doesn't allow you to. He blocks your way, shaking his head as he holds your shoulders next.

"I want you, (Y/N). I love you —"

How long have you wanted to hear those words. Your heart wants nothing more than to soar. But your brain knows better. "No, no, no, let me go". He doesn't let you. Satoru wraps his arms around you and your mouth opens to let out yells, fists pounding onto his chest as you try to get away from him.

"I hate you! You fucking bastard! I hate you, I loathe you!"

Satoru holds you firmly agaisnt him. Holding the back of your head preciously as he finally hears your voice raised above that whispering tone. "I hate you! I hate you so much! Why do you keep doing this to me!? I — I just wanted you, Satoru!" Your voice breaks and your sobbing turns into wailing. His heart squeezes, chest physically hurting as you sob and yell.

"I wanted you, Satoru! I just wanted you!" "Why didn't you love me, Satoru!?" Thunder rumbles and as your yells quiet down into hiccups, rain muffles it.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)". He feels your knees give out and he holds you, making you lean against him for support. "I'm so sorry, my beloved. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, (Y/N)".

When he tucks you in to rest, he isn't surprised Megumi is standing in the doorway with his eyes set into a glare. Satoru wipes your tears away, sweeping some of your hair away before placing a kiss on your forehead. He raises to answer Megumi's burning questions.

"You heard?"

"I'm not deaf".

Megumi has his arms crossed. He was an observant boy. Being raised by both Satoru and you — he notices the overexuberant Satoru's confidence wavering every time you give him smiles that never reach your eyes. Tsumiki even told him once that she finds it sad, how you both seem to be so familiar but foreign to each other.

"But one time I did see (Y/N) get flustered because of Satoru", she told Megumi whilst on their way back from school. He looked ahead, sipping on his drink as a prompt for Tsumiki to continue. "It was during breakfast. (Y/N) woke up a little late because he was traveling around for clan meetings and missions. So he was panicking so much, he burnt our rice and stuff! But then, Satoru walks in and tells him he prepared our bento. He kept it in the fridge. All that was needed to do was heat it up, he helped (Y/N) the entire time and then he just — "

Tsumiki kisses the air with a loud 'mwah!'

"He plants a kiss right on (Y/N)'s forehead. (Y/N) was so flustered he just stared down at the sink. It was cute, he's definitely still in love, they both are!"

Megumi peeks into the room. The sliver of light on your peaceful expression highlights the content curl of your lips despite the swollen eyes you bore.

"...Don't mess up this second chance", Megumi warns. He turns and marches away while Satoru huffs, scratching the back of his head as he sighs. "I wasn't planning to". He really does love you. He does. He loves you, from the ends of your hair to the tip of your fucking toes; he loves —loved, Suguru too. But this is different, you're different. But his love isn't any less or more.

He loves you.

Whatever it takes, he'll make sure you know it until his last breath.

[workingbynyx]

Hi! I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing headcanons of Jason Todd as the reader's boyfriend? Probably like the general dynamic of the relationship, love language, etc. Whatever you think goes best! :)

of course! i can finally use my hcs of boyfie jason to good use oml i have so much in store for you loves 😚

(this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and now that its almost v-day i think its pretty fitting to post this <3 also pls remember that these are my personal hcs so some may be entirely ooc but this is how i imagine him to be okay 😭)

Very affectionate behind closed doors

Jason wasn't a very clingy person to begin with. in fact the first time you held hands you swore you saw drops of sweat drip down the side of his face, it's hilarious. it took him a while to get around giving physical affection but once he did, hugs and kisses are non-stop. he'll either give you quick or aggressive but gentle kisses or would simply ask you to climb onto him on your shared bed and lay your head on his chest as he sleeps. he'd search for your hand and give it a squeeze when the both of you are in a big crowd (ex; galas, parties) or just rest his hand on the small of your back— as intimidating he might seem, he's just a big baby in your hands.

A pretty decent cook, to say the least

Could be an unpopular opinion but i'd say Jason isn't all too bad in the kitchen, he can pretty much fix up a simple meal if he wants to. The man could either fuck up the microwave or invent a whole new recipe just to fit your cravings, there's no in between. He doesn't want to admit it but he has a secret folder in his phone of all the recipes to your favourite dishes from lunch meals to deserts; so now on every occassion, you can expect waking up to the fresh scent of your favourite food set on the table <3

Midnight joyrides are the best

Do y'all know those tiktok accs that own a motorbike and just drive around with their partners sitting behind them? That's exactly how i imagine what it would be like to be Jason's partner 👊👊 literally like; "bubs put on your helmet" "are we going out? at this time?" "what, you don't want to?" "well, yeah i do..." "good, i'll have the bike out front then" then you guys just drive around on his bigass bike zooming through the city. He'd also have his hands run down your leg that's straddling him from behind at every stoplight possible wkehwjhejwhd

Getting out of bed is almost impossible

The first time you two moved in together was really exciting, waking up finding yourself beside the love of your life sleeping peacefully to eating breakfast and dinner with them too. But as time went by, it became almost your mission everyday to get out of bed without being held back by Jason pulling you back under the sheets. You'd have to be sneaky to move his arm that's wrapped around your waist before his reflexes react soon enough; "mmh, going somewhere?" "jay, i gotta get to work" "10 more minutes love, i promise. I'll just drive you there it's much faster" "you said that 5 minutes ago— i'll be late again!" "are you saying you'd rather leave me alone?" "jace i–" "mhm exactly, so stay a'ight? you could just tell them you caught that flu" "i already did...two days ago..."

Absolutely adores your eyes, hands and waist

I'm a firm believer that Jason is a certified waist-grabber !!! you can expect the rough tips of his gloves glide over from your back all the way to your waist once he comes home from work. He also looooves looking into your eyes and see his reflection in them, the same eyes that showed nothing but pure love and kindness to him. And he also likes your hands; the size difference when you compare them, how they wrapped around his own, and how they cling onto him every chance you get. He thinks it's such a cute mannerism (if you have them too)

He asks for fashion advice, sometimes

Jason'll probably throw on a shirt, jacket, pants and boots then call it day before he met you— but he's even conscious of how colors looked on him now. You were his stylist, often picking out clothes and giving him new looks that you think looks best on him just because he once saw a photo of him and thought the shirt and pants he had didn't match at all. Jason always thought clothes only consists of hoodies, sweatpants, shirts, but now even knows what 'preppy' clothing is after you explained it to him.

His love language is words of affirmation and physical touch

This may vary to some people but i do hc Jason's love language to be words of affirmation and physical touch. Words of affirmation; only because he absolutely loves it when he tells you what he genuinely thinks of you at the moment. "You look great in red", "i'm proud of what you did there", "i love you, y'know that right?", "you look so gorgeous, i'm lucky to have you" and physical touch; because he's totally convinced he can't live without you by his side. Jason would want to be next or near you at any given chance, he'll have you scooted beside him while he reads a book or gently rub his hand against your thigh when he's focused on a movie. Your presence alone gives him the comfort he's always longing for in nights that he's away from home, and you'd glady give it to him.

Very protective over you

It's probably a known fact that Jason is a protective person but when it comes to you he can be over the top in making sure you're okay (especially when you're also a vigilante/hero working with him.) You'll always have to assure him that you're fine and not bleeding to death with a papercut or when you accidentlly stub your toe against the bed. But when you're also a crime-fighter like him, best believe he'll always have you stay and guarded behind him. You had to explain so many times that you could also take care of yourself like he can, though it's understandable why he acts that way most of the time.

Acts all tough, but melts when you're around

Around the times when Jason still had a lil crush on you, he'd never let his guard down and likes to appear cold or tough. But once you were dating he's an absolute shy babe even with the smallest gestures or compliments you give him. He'd only crack a smile at the side comments you make but is mentally falling apart. Or when he can't keep up the act he simply dips his head in the corner of your neck and stay there til he stops blushing like a teen getting his first kiss.

Is a part of the sassy man apocalypse

Sometimes, you question if this man is simply your bestfriend or your boyfriend of how many years. The amount of bickering the two of you end up having is like watching two friends fight over peanut butter vs chocolate. You'd suggest a book you've been reading that he absolutely despises and have a debate right there and then. It's almost like that one Friends scene when Joey and Rachel were giving spoilers back to back at each other LMAO. The man also has an unhealthy habit of popping a hip whenever he stands, your gallery would probably be filled with pictures of him in that stance alone.