#askjungorp

[boxersanddelinquents]

| SUBJECT : blinded and bound |

Where am I?

It was dark…

I can’t see a single thing.

I think I was bound…

I couldn’t move at all.

Or maybe I was drugged?

It feels cold…

Was I stripped? Am I… completely naked?

No, I feel the cloth of my shirt against my skin.

Why am I wet?

Makes it feel even colder...

Who and why did they do this to me?

It seem I can move a little now.

"Let... me... go!" I said weakly as I struggle to move.

Why is it so hard to move?

[splendoremxaeternum-blog]

It's about that time Jungo drops by, since it's been maybe a month or two since he last did so. He's been all kinds of busy, so this might be his only chance to pop in and say hi to the little dude.

Jungo, of course, has no idea that little dude is one hundred percent too relevant right now.

"Hibiki?" He stands in the doorway, knocking on the frame, and peering into the house while he balances a cup of chawanmushi and a packet of mochi in his free hand. Jungo can't sense Hibiki's usual form moving about... Either he's not here or...

Hearing the familiar voice calling his name, the tiny Hibiki popped his head out from under the couch and immediately ran to Jungo. One hop later and he was clinging to the older, and much taller, boy's pants leg. "Jungo!"

[timebrokentactics-archive]

✖: my “hate sex” pairing ۞: my “working on it” pairing

✖: my “hate sex” pairing

outofangstwagon;; Uhhh… Jaffar and Morgan I guess? She doesn’t hate him, just doesn’t like his “hire kill hire kill hire kill” mentality.

۞: my “working on it” pairing

outofangstwagon;; MAYBE Jungo? I mean he kind of does this BSOD thing when he’s asked about romance but I feel like they’d be super cute together :3c

[timebrokentactics-archive]

outofangstwagon;; SCREAMS LAUGHS WHEEZES

JUNGO YOU'RE #1 ON MY BLOG CRUSH LIST RIGHT NOW I'M SO DONE

-FLIES OF INTO THE NIGHT CRAUGHING-

[timebrokentactics-archive]

outofangstwagon;; LAUGHING INTO THE NIGHT BECAUSE LOL JUST YOUR LUCK JUNGO

FULL GEAR ANGSTWAGON

[timebrokentactics-archive]

tentatively leaves a red string of fate for jungo.

56. Our muses are destined to fall in love and elope

Why Jungo ever insisted he come to her world, she would never understand.

Why she listened to him and let him come, she would never understand.

—Though, thinking on it now, she could begin to guess why he would want to come. Always a man of chivalry and eager to help, he was. She was yet another stray cat whom he’d extended that warm hand towards.

It’s all my fault.

Coughing against the scald of burning air, she stumbled through the battlefield, seeking the Outrealmer. They’d gotten separated in the fray, even though he’d told her to stay close. All it took was a second, and then she had lost sight of him. Panic bubbled and growled in the pit of her stomach, steadily and slowly growing despite her efforts to keep calm.

Morgan dared a glance backwards, where Grima’s Table loomed overhead. Inside was Chrom with an entourage of Shepherds, gone to reclaim the Fire Emblem and stop the summoning of the Fell Dragon. She had elected to stay behind; she dared not, not after what had happened before. It was Inigo that stood at Lucina’s side now, their bonds of love strengthening them. And yet, so many had fallen already, parents having sacrificed themselves that their children from the future might live.

And Jungo could be one of the dead.

I should never have let you come.

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew he would be in danger if she allowed him to come with her. She knew he would ask to join the Valmese campaign if he’d come. She shouldn’t have relented. Her world’s problems were not his. He had no obligation to die for a land with whom he held no ties. He had friends and family waiting for him back in Japan; if he died now, they would never know what happened to him. And yet she’d let him… why? Why had she gone against better judgment to allow him passage?

Because I was selfish.

Because he mattered now.

Sweet, selfless Jungo. Reticent and unobtrusive like Lon’qu and Gerome, yet openly kinder. His gentle nature had been a balm on her heart, endeared him to her. He wasn’t scared of her taguel form. He treated her as a friend, and equal. He forgave her shortcomings quickly, patiently. He always seemed to know when she needed a comforting companion, when to speak and when not to. He let her see his weaknesses.

And as scared as she was to admit it, he had found a place in her heart.

Jungo, please be alive. Please, please, Naga, protect him—

There! His outlandish black hat marking him against the surge of bodies, Ylissean armour worn out of necessity. He had picked up swordsmanship in his time here, and though he wasn’t superb he was at least holding his own. Throwing caution to the winds she bounded towards him.

"Jungo!"

Thunder rumbled and the air crackled as a bolt of lightning dropped from the heavens to incinerate a Risen rushing for the Outrealmer’s flank. Jungo allowed himself to be startled, but not enough to keep him from dispatching the undead with whom he’d locked blades. It fell to a powerful cleave, and then—

"Morgan!"

Sapphire orbs widened as strong arms encircled her. Jungo held her tight and close, as if to ascertain she was real. The relief in his voice was palpable.

"Morgan, are you hurt?"

"No, I’m fine… I should be asking you that."

"Jungo is fine."

That he was; he was a little ruffled in places, but Morgan knew him for his incredible strength and shocking stamina, and he didn’t look like he was teetering just yet. She felt own relief at seeing him still in one piece. Don’t think of him that way, you can’t belong to him. He can’t belong to you…

"Jungo, we have to—"

Suddenly, a burst of baleful purple light surged up the length of the tower behind them, conglomerating into a single point at the peak before blazing into the cloud-darkened sky. As if tainting everything around it with fell power, the clouds grew black and ominous as the violet energy coursed forth to bring a massive six-winged shape to form. Morgan felt her insides run cold.

"What is that…!?"

The young tactician didn’t hear Jungo’s exclamation of shock. Chrom… Lucina! Her friends, their families… had they all fallen? Was she, once again, the only one left?

"Grima…" The name was like poison on her lips, gnawing away at her courage and sapping her strength. "No… it’s all over…"

"Morgan!"

Something slammed into her, sending her flying. Warm arms encircled her and she and Jungo thudded to the ground just as a bolt of lightning dropped from the roiling clouds where she had stood transfixed moments ago. Oblivious, the half-taguel began to shake. No. No. No, no, no, no. This was all wrong. Had Robin done what she had under Grima’s thrall, and slaughter the Shepherds? Was she too late? Fool. Coward. Sluggard. She should have been more proactive in searching and eliminating her father, to avoid all this. So long as a Fellblood remained, this was to be their fate.

"No… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…!"

I killed them all again. It was my fault. I couldn’t do enough. Even though I tried to change…

"Morgan!"

The shout tore her from her broiling thoughts, and her wide eyes snapped up to meet Jungo’s concerned silver ones. His gaze swept her face, trying to understand, trying to know.

"Morgan, what’s wrong? Why are you apologizing?"

"I-it’s my fault… I killed them… I killed them again…!"

”Morgan, Jungo doesn’t understand. Who did you kill?”

Her panic, her trauma, was affecting him. Jungo was genuinely worried, confused. Morgan didn’t know why she told him. She just did. For the first time in years, she finally spoke to someone of whom she was. It took every fibre of her being not to simply break down and sob. She told him of her future, how she had come to be the way she was. Why she came to the past. Why she travelled the Outrealms. And when she was done, they sat together, her small frame still bundled in his much larger one.

"…Show Jungo your hand."

It was like showing off a skin disease, or an unsightly boil. But she pulled back her glove to allow him access to the scar-riddled purple mark that burned against her skin. His hands were gentle as he took hers, studied the horrid brand, gingerly running his hands over the records of her multiple attempts to be rid of it.

"…Morgan, you… tried so hard to get rid of it."

Mutely she nodded, mentally begging her tears not to fall.

—And then, her nose was in his chest, and his arms wrapped around her in a comforting, sympathetic embrace.

"This isn’t your fault." She moved to uncover her mouth, but he didn’t give her the chance to. "You tried your best. Jungo knows this. You tried your best to stop it and it didn’t go as you wanted it to. That’s not Morgan’s fault."

His quiet conviction unlocked the floodgates to her tears, and gripping his shirt she wept quietly and bitterly. The Outrealmer didn’t move, didn’t push her away, simply held her and allowed her some time to herself. And when her sobs slowly lessened, and her body stopped trembling, he spoke again.

"…Let’s leave."

"Huh?" Surprise. Leave? Where was there to go? Now that Grima had awakened and the Shepherds young and old were no more, there was nowhere to run.

"Back to Jungo’s world. Morgan can live with Jungo."

"But—"

"Please." His voice took on a pleading tone, imploring her. He lowered his head. "Please. Morgan wants to go back to the past again and fix things, right? But… it’s going to hurt Morgan. You’re so sad already… it makes Jungo sad too."

What could she say to that? Her own sapphire lowered as she worried her lower lip, trying to find a compromise. She was obligated to stay, and right the wrongs; the only survivor, the only one who could make a difference. She couldn’t just leave the world to allow Grima his satisfaction.

"Jungo, I—"

"Jungo was scared."

Their positions were shifted slightly; now it was his hands clinging to her overcoat, his head buried into her chest. Jungo, are you shaking…?

"When we got separated… Jungo panicked. There were so many of them, and Jungo couldn’t find you. Jungo was scared that Morgan might…"

Die.

The world hung heavy on them both. Morgan felt her resolve waver, and looked out onto the desolate wasteland around Grima’s Table. Miasma-blackened weapons, the bodies of slain Shepherds and Ylisseans… It’s over. She could return to the past… but would Naga allow her to? Did the Divine Dragon have enough strength to allow her passage once more? Would she be able to amend things her third time through? She wanted to say yes, but…

I couldn’t bear to hurt Jungo this way.

Jungo, who didn’t hate her for what she was. Jungo, who even after seeing her brand, and knowing what she had done, held only concern for her well-being. Dear, precious, beloved Jungo. Her resolve crumbled at the thought of that pained face, that helpless expression. Without thinking, she lowered her head to place her lips upon his crown.

"…If you put it that way, it’s hard for me to say no."

Silver hues looked up at her in wide-eyed disbelief, then a grateful smile spread out below them.

"Thank you."

And he rose, still carrying her in his arms. Morgan squeaked in surprise, gripping his shoulders for fear of falling. Jungo chuckled.

"Let’s get to the Gate."

[timebrokentactics-archive]

Nightmare - Jungo since you left one in mine. Working on yours now~

9. Turns out your character is a werewolf. Full moon’s out tonight.

Ever since their meeting, Morgan had always smelled animal on the reticent Outrealmer. At first she had attributed it to his constant house full of cat, or the fact that he was just an animal person in general. But then—

Clang. The sound of falling and breaking chinaware from the kitchen startled the young half-taguel from where she was cleaning up in another room. Dimly she was aware that all of the cats had gone. The kitchen… wasn’t that where…?

"Jungo?"

Straightening, she poked her head out into the dim hallway. When had the lights turned off? Jungo usually switched them off behind him; wary yet concerned, she crept as quickly and quietly as she could down the hall. As she neared the kitchen she became aware of the sound of laboured breathing and pained gasps and grunts. Something was definitely wrong and whatever it was, Jungo was not okay. Forgoing caution the girl bounded the last few strides into the kitchen.

The entire place was dark, barely lit by the ambient glow of the streetlamp outside. At first all she could hear was the tall youth’s attempts to keep his voice down, but then she noticed his tall frame huddled on the floor. A chawanmushi cup lay in pieces on the floor - the source of the crash that had brought her here - but at the moment she was more concerned about the Outrealmer that had so kindly taken her in when she had no place to go.

"Jungo, are you—"

Morgan took a step forward but stopped when she felt a thrill of fear course down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Her inner taguel was telling her something was inherently wrong with all of this and she had to escape before it got worse. Normally she would have listened to that reason, but her worry for Jungo overrode her desire to flee. If she was running away, she would make sure this selfless gentleman was safe too.

—Wait, was that… growling? The raven paused, uncertain, but then she heard it. Soft at first, and then growing louder. It was only then that she noticed the beanie he always wore lying close to the shattered chawanmushi cup, the dents and scratches in the furniture and walls around where Jungo lay… if that was even Jungo at all.

Something gleamed in the night: an eye, a predator’s eye, glowing dimly from the shadowy hunkered lump. Had it gotten bigger? She couldn’t tell, couldn’t compare; she was too busy realizing that there was now a set of razor fangs below that eye, glinting like so many little knives. Morgan wasn’t sure if she should take a step forward or back. Her mind was screaming at her to do the latter.

"Jungo?"

At the sound of his name, something twitched on the shape, and its attention trained onto her. Her taguel side blared alarm bells at her, and she barely had backpedalled a step when with a snarl it leaped at her. The girl reacted reflexively, throwing herself out of the way - and further into the room, she cursed herself for her folly after the fact. Twisting around, she thought to slip out before whatever it was came back, but then the thing came streaking back in, its massive frame obstructing all means of escape.

Outside, the wind shifted, tearing the clouds away from the silver disc that was the moon. And in the light, she beheld a most fearsome sight.

Dark shaggy fur covered its body, lean and lithe and powerful. Saliva stretched between twin rows of pure canine in an elongated snout. The moon framed itself between two triangular ears. A wolf, and an enormous one… but not quite. It took on a vaguely humanoid shape, so that it appeared to be hunched over, its hands, tipped with wicked talons, just scraping the floor with its knuckles. What manner of beast—!?

And then she saw the tattered remains of the shirt that clung to its muscular chest.

The head of a silly beady-eyed fish and the words FI and OR.

Jungo’s shirt.

"Jungo!?"

A snarled roar, and the thing charged at her again. Morgan threw herself out of the way, wincing as she felt one of those blackened claws break skin on her cheek. This was Jungo!? But… what had caused this transformation, and why was he attacking her?

"Jungo, it’s me! Morgan!"

If he recognized or heard her, he gave no indication of doing so. With another howl he dove at her; this time he caught her leg, and with a cry she tumbled to the ground. A sharp pain in her arm: a shard of chawanmushi cup had dug into her arm at her landing. With the smell of blood in the air, the lupine monstrosity Jungo had become was fully trained on her. Fear numbed her legs, and all Morgan could do was slowly back herself into a corner, heart racing as the beast lumbered towards her.

"Jungo, please…"

Her breath hitched, cracking her voice.

"Please, don’t hurt me."

He didn’t seem to hear her. He was a predator on the hunt, and she was his prey.

"Jungo… I’m scared."

A snarl. He leaped, razor maw opening to snap her neck in twain.

She screamed.

[timebrokentactics-archive]

~OFFLINE~

"Good night, my friends. May your slumber be restful and your dreams sweet."

outofangstwagon;; It is 2:30 in the morning. I should've been in Althyk's realm hours ago. Good night.

Also, Keita and Jungo, I'll have your nightmares tomorrow.