#i'm kind of just in a weird head space and trying to recover from it

[holysanctum]

hey so lots of stuff has happened basically this week, i'm sure a lot of you know about the person going around and just sending people shit that don't deserve it but if you or someone you know is being sent shit i'm SO sorry, no one deserves what's happening right now and it seems like there's not much we can do. it's very frustrating, but i do implore everyone to try and get an ip banner and close off anon if possible as well as block any account this person has that messages you!

[fairysluna]

the reward.

You come back home after two weeks, and with the victory in your shoulders. Cregan, who was still recovering from his wounds, is esger to thank you for what you've done.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

TAGS/TW — smut (clit play, praise, cunninglus, humping, public sex), cursing, mentions of murder, blood. If something is missing pls let me know!

AUTHOR’S NOTE — this is based on this ask (thx anon, ily). Just so you know, reader gave birth to Elion four weeks before this happened. I didn't proof read it, so if there's any mistakes I'm sorry.

WORD COUNT — 3.2k.

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

When the big wooden doors were opened, all eyes fell on the two silhouettes that walked inside the main hall in the castle of Winterfell. Cregan stood up from his chair almost immediately, his eyes widening with surprise at the sight, and feeling the relief calming down his senses after he finally proved you were not dead.

Two weeks have passed since the last time he heard about you; two weeks in which he was losing his mind for not being able to get up from the bed and go to search for you. Your letters had ceased suddenly and unexpectedly, creating worry not only on your husband but also in the castle. And yet there you were; your hair was covered in ashes and dirt, your face having traces of dried blood and sweat. You were wearing armor which covered your chest, leather pants shaping your legs, the scabbard on your hips was dripping with blood coming from the blade of your sword. By your side, the stern and serious frame of your beloved brother Aemond was standing in the same conditions as you.

But everyone’s eyes were fixed on the giant’s head hanging from your hand. You walked inside the room with pride, your chin up as everyone bowed for you. Your husband was taken aback, for there was too much information in front of him at that moment, it was such a bizarre scene.

Cregan took a sharp breath as he stared at you once you stood in front of him, only a big, long table separating your bodies. The giant’s head was dropped by your hand on top of it, and the man looked down at you with a weird glance on his face. He analyzed your whole shape, from head to toe; from your messy battle braids to your ash-covered shoes. Cregan caught himself feeling some kind of unexplainable sensation of lust in his veins; and you were the only one who was capable of recognizing it.

“My dear husband,” you started, and all the whispers shut down almost immediately. “I’ve brought you a gift. I’m not certain whether this was the one who harmed you, but take it as a symbol… no one hurts those who I love.”

He looked to the head, then at your brother, and lastly at you. He took a deep breath, as if he was about to utter some words, but Lord Karstark opened his mouth.

“Princess,” he said, shock reflected in his voice, “what- how were you able to-?”

“My husband gifted me a fine Valyrian blade a few years ago,” you explained, looking right in the eye of the tall man to whom you call your lover. “Giants are above the size of a regular man, which is what makes them easy to behead from a dragon's back. I couldn't kill them all, but I killed enough to make them yield.”

“They yielded?” Cregan finally spoke, to which you nod.

“Yes, my lord, they did,” the mere pronunciation of those two words almost sent Cregan to outer space. Your voice sounded so deep and seductive without even trying. The man was almost drooling because of you. “They returned beyond the wall as they promised to never cross it again. Those who dared to defy our terms died by the flames of Aegarax, which worked as a warning to let them know what would happen if they disobeyed.”

“We had a few losses, my lord” Aemond interrupted in the conversation, and still Cregan was unable to take his eyes off of you. “They were brave men, killed in battle by those savages. Allow me to present them with honor with a feast in celebration for our victory. It is also well deserved for those who survive.”

“Let it be done, brother,” Cregan said. "We might as well celebrate your bravery, and your efforts for bringing my wife safely back to my arms."

“Ser Aron, please put the giant's head on display for the people to see. It is a sign of peace now,” you ordered.

“Of course, princess,” he bowed swiftly before getting close enough to the head to pick it up and walking with it out of the Hall.

“My lord, if I may, I would like to go and spend some time with my nephews and niece before tonight’s celebration,” Aemond asked, using that polite and courteous tone that was so typical of him.

Cregan nodded, “of course, brother,” he said.

Aemond walked to your way and left a soft kiss on your forehead before squeezing your shoulder and leaving the hall towards the nursery room where you children were. The silence ruled over the room as everyone was expecting for either you or Cregan to speak further into the matter, but all they received was the comfortable silence you and your husband shared as your hazes would refuse to look away. The lack of each other’s presence these last weeks had clearly made a big impact in your lives, for there was an invisible magnet that was pulling you both closer and closer to each other. Your bodies craved each other's touch in a way that would even make you look desperate.

“We won the war, my lord husband,” you said, a slight smirk crossing your lips as you noticed his jaw clenched. “Mayhaps we should celebrate, don’t you think?”

Your eyes gazed upon his face, begging and pleading for something you knew only him could provide you. The nights in the camp were cold and lonely, making you long for your husband’s warmth. Your breathing trembled at the mere thought of his big hands roaming around your body in order to touch those places that he knew so well.

“Everyone,” Cregan raised his voice in order to be heard by all the people present in the room. His low tone echoed around the room. “Leave, now.”

The lords, knights and soldiers were soon walking towards the exit doors as Cregan walked around the table and reached your side. Your smaller frame looked so fragile in front of him even when your body was covered with that hard material which had some scratches in it. Cregan looked up and down to your state, and he inevitably bit his lip as his hand reached for your hip and pulled you closer to him. A small gasp left you, starting to feel his breathing against your skin. Soon you find yourself being a prisoner of his arms, for they surrounded your body and held you tight against his broad chest.

“The children have been missing you terribly,” he whispered, so close to your lips that you were able to feel his breath against them.

You gave a quick peak to your surroundings just when the door was closed and the last man left the room. Your gaze fell upon your husband’s face once again and a little smile appeared on your face. Your hands went to his broad chest as his started to go down your body until reaching your arse.

You were dirty, sweaty, a complete mess, and yet Cregan thought that you had never looked more desirable.

“Only them?” You asked, teasingly playing with the laces of his coat until it fell down surrounding his shoes.

“No,” he shook his hand, pulling you closer and making you feel his hardness through the fabric of his pants. You sighed, eyes already getting blurry with the aching lust between your legs. “I was scared… frightened.” His lips brushing against your jaw. “I thought I had lost you, I forced myself to heal faster only to go and look for you, my love.”

“No need, I’m already here…” You replied. Your eyes would not dare to leave his as your hand reached his growing erection. “I’m here, and I will never leave you again-”

You were barely able to finish the sentence before his delicious lips trapped yours in a lustful kiss that took your breath away. The missed touch had your heart jumping in your chest with excitement, love and lust. His hands grabbed your checks in order to keep your face close enough to devour your mouth with hunger and desire. He was craving for you as much as you were for him.

"Seeing you like this," he murmurs between kisses, his fingers going to the laces that were holding your pants. "I'm so fucking lucky to call you mine. My wife, my love, my princess."

"I did it all for you," you confessed in a whine, pulling his hair strong enough to make him moan. You pulled away as your fist was holding his locks with a bit of roughness that he loved to see in you. "I would make this entire world burn just for you."

His eyes sparkled with devotion as he softened his grip around your face. His gray eyes staring at yours with a glow you were already used to seeing on him whenever he laid eyes on you. The shadow of a tender smile appeared on his face before he leaned to kiss you again. It was softer, more delicate, leaving part of the lust of your bodies behind just to have a more intimate moment. His tongue entered your mouth elegantly, twirling against yours while you sighed and closed your eyes. The warmth within your chest gave you a feeling of comfort that you had not felt since you left Winterfell; gods, you missed him so much.

When he pulled away, he stared down at you. His thumb caressing your cheeks, wiping the dried blood out of your beautiful face. He could not help but smile, all of this was for him. You did it all for him. His heart would only beat faster on the realization of you unleashing the dragon inside you just for his protection.

There was something about that wild and dangerous side of you that made Cregan drool like a hungry puppy.

"I love you," he said, and you smiled.

"I love you," you replied.

But then the lust in his eyes returned, and you knew the soft moment had vanished. His hands went to your hips as he turned you around and bent you over the table. You chuckled softly at his action, feeling how he would rub himself against you as if he was trying to find some relief. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against his chest.

"My little dragon," he murmured against your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. A soft moan was heard from you. "Fuck- I missed those pretty sounds so much."

You felt how he suddenly stepped back, and it was impossible for you to retain the loud gasp that escaped from your lips once Cregan pulled your pants down, dragging your small clothes with it. The coldness of the air caused shivers in your spine, especially after you noticed him kneeling behind you and his big hands spreading your arse cheeks. His thumbs exploring and touching your folds as he could only growl at the sight, your cunt was already dripping, glistening with your arousal.

Cregan leaned, close enough to brush his nose against your labia, teasing as he smelled your sweet scent and his mouth waters. That sweet, so delicious smell had been missed by him, and he could not wait to let himself drink from you until his lips felt sore. At that point, your legs were shaking with the anticipation of his mouth devouring as if you were his last meal.

"You've been such a good little wife, my princess," he whispered, his hot breath reaching your moist folds and making you whine. "Taking revenge for your husband, and bringing victory to our home."

His thumb started to tease your needy clit, proving small touches that were far from being enough to cause the much needed sensation of relief. You bit your lip, sighing with frustration. Your hips moving backwards as you desperately tried to reach a more intense touch, but Cregan would make you wait.

"So, so good…" he muttered, dropping light kisses in the flesh of your ass, "I'm gonna give my wife the reward she deserves, how about that?"

"Oh, fuck, please, my love," you breathed heavily, closing your eyes as the despair only grew within you. "I need you so much."

"Shh… I should be the one begging," Cregan replied.

You felt the fingertips of his thumbs spreading your labia before his tongue lapped at your sensitive folds. A moan, much louder than the ones before, was heard, and your eyes immediately went close at the delicious feeling of his tongue licking all your slick. He was eating you like a hungry man, after being deprived of you for so long he was despairingly trying to make it worth the wait. He had missed your taste, your smell, the way you would clench around his tongue, and how prettily your moans would sound.

The sound of his tongue against your wetness as he drank from you was beyond obscene. A mixture of his spit and your slick would slip down your thighs, making it messier and filthier that it already is. Your nails were digging on the wood of the ancient table beneath you, and your whimpers were getting louder.

His nose was teasing your entrance, causing the pleasure to become almost unbearable. With the birth of your third child and the weeks you spent apart, you had not been exposed to this kind of pleasure for a really long time, and you almost forgot how good it felt when your dutiful husband took care of you.

Once his tongue left your clit and started to go to your clenching hole, his fingers went to your swollen pearl, indulging the pleasure and making you see stars. You were a mumbling mess, not caring about keeping it quiet because you knew how much your husband loved to hear you, and you loved to make him know how good he was making you feel.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm getting so close, love," you rapidly said, breathy words leaving your throat as you moaned. "Your tongue feels so fucking good- oh, fuck! just like that…"

Your words seemed to only fuel his desire, for his eagerness only increased. He shook his head from side to side, his tongue never leaving your folds. You were able to feel the tightness in your lower belly as your legs started to shake. His whole face buried in you in order to give you the pleasure that you needed and deserved.

With a squeal, you felt your juices oozing out of you and falling into Cregan's tongue. You were able to hear him moan, his heavy breathing against your cunt as he was eagerly trying to get all your release inside his mouth.

Your body fell on top of the table, your eyes remaining closed as you tried to regularize your unsteady breathing. Cregan stood up, caressing the exposed flesh of your thighs as he leaned over your frame to kiss your cheek.

"We have the best cooks in the North, and yet their dishes will never be as delicious as your sweet cunt, my love," you both shared a breathy laugh after his words, your cheeks inevitably getting reddish and warm. "Come here."

His arms lift you up without issue, so effortlessly as always. He shifted your position until you were facing him, sitting on the table and with your legs surrounding his hips. His nose brushed against yours, and your hands went to his pants. He immediately stopped you.

"We can't," he said, "the Maester said we need to wait at least three fortnights."

"I can please you in other ways too, you know that," you reminded him.

"No, I just wanted to thank you-"

"And I want to thank you too," you interrupted him, removing his hand and keeping untying the laces of his pants until you removed them, freeing his shaft from the tightness of the fabric. "For all that you've done for us…"

"My love-"

"Be quiet," you silenced him. Your legs pushed him closer to you until his cock was pressed against your pearl. You both moaned at the feeling. "You know what to do now… please, don't make me beg."

"You little, needy thing…" he muttered before starting to move his hips. His mouth dropped open at the feeling of your lips wrapping around his length, it felt so warm and good. "Fuck, my love, I can't wait to be inside you once again." He confessed.

You smirked, "yeah?"

"Oh, Gods, yes…" his face was buried on the crook of your neck as your hand went to his cock to press it against your core. "As soon as you heal I'll fuck another babe inside you. Would you like that?"

"Y-yes," you nodded, your eyes looking directly at him as he sped his movements. "I can't- fuck… I

I can't wait to feel you inside me again. Filling me up so- oh, fuck, so good."

Cregan moaned at your words, getting harsher with his movements. His sack hitting against your slick, as he kept rubbing himself against you, growing desperate to spill himself on you. Your lips soon met on a needy kiss that silenced all the obscene sounds that were coming out of your mouths. It was messy, but none of you care, already drunk in the pleasure.

He pulled away at the same time that a whine left his lips. He grabbed his shaft and started to swiftly stroke it as he kept rubbing the tip on your clit. You came again, moaning his name before he coated your folds with thick drops of his pearly seed. His head fell backwards, his eyes rolling with pleasure as he hissed and groaned. You held your weight with your forearms as you looked at the mess he did on you.

Cregan soon held you tight, hiding his face on your neck once again. You chuckled softly, tiredly, caressing his hair and kissing whatever part of him you could reach.

"Don't ever leave me," he begged, "I can't do this without you."

"I won't, I promise," you replied in a whisper, smiling so bright.

He reached for your lips once again, kissing you gently and lovingly. It was brief, but as soon as he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours, enjoying the closeness of your bodies.

"But now I need to go and see my babies," you said, kissing his lips one last time before pulling back.

"Let me help you to clean you up," he quickly moved around, pulling his pants up to start looking for something that could work.

He found a clean cloak and went towards you. You let him help you, seeing how careful and delicate he always was with you. You smiled at him, and once he was ready, he made you stand up and lifted your pants. Next thing he did was throwing the cloak he used with you to the fire in the fireplace.

He grabbed your hand and walked with you towards the exit door, but before you were able to cross it, he stopped you to kiss you once more.

"I love you," he said again.

You bit your lip, hiding the enormous smile on yojr face.

"I love you."

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1

CREGAN TAG LIST — @satansdarlin @aelora-a @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

[boredpotate]

Happier Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own Arcane or any links. I only own the concept idea for this story.

Concept: Isekai Fem Reader turns back time to fix her timeline, but has unforeseen consequences.

Reader Pov.

I'm in a clear white space with blue pulsing light that that endlessly spread throughout the whole space. Up, down and around. I don't know how I got here, but a little ways away from me I see someone. A hooded figure with some kind of staff.

"Hello?" I call out and the figure turns to me, though I can't make out a face under the hood. A sharp pain suddenly goes through my skull and I black out.

My eyes shoot open and I feel my body being shaken on the bed again and grunts that I know only one little girl makes. I turn my head and see Isha trying to shake me awake, which makes me smile and forget about the weird dream.

"Five more minutes," I grumble and turn over to the other side, making Isha climb onto the bed and shaking me more to wake up. Her little grunts and hums insisting that I wake up for the day, "*sigh* Okay, I'm up. I'm up." I say as I sit up and get a morning hug from Isha. Her hug being much tighter than before, since her body has become much more healthy during this passing month. Along with more energy to run and jump around.

After separating from the warm hug, Isha hops off the beg and grabs my shoes and leg brace for me as I scoot over and swing my legs over the side. She helps me get my shoes on and put on my leg brace; tightening the lower straps while I tighten the higher one's before holding my hands and helping me stand up. The cane no longer needed now that I have enough strength in the rest of my body to balance myself, but my braced leg still not fully recovered, but getting better. I let out a big stretch and groan before putting on my gear. Isha almost immediately tugs on my hand after I'm ready and heads towards the bedroom door. Always acting like she's my nurse or caretaker ever since she started getting healthier.

What has felt like a little over a month has been nice. Therapeutic in a way. It felt like home again. Having talks with Vander, Silco and Benzo. Getting to know the older Claggor and Mylo and what their interests are and bantering like old times. Talking with Sevika, Vi and Cait about their work and learning that Vi and Cait moved into their own place; even getting invited for tea sometimes. Though most of my time was significantly spent with Powder, Ekko and Isha in Powder's lab. Surprisingly the same one Jinx had but a vastly different mood in it. Though more bright colors have been brought into it thanks to Isha and Powder's drawings and decorating together; creating a strange, but nice, mix of themes.

Mostly Powder, but with a touch of Jinx.

Both Powder and Ekko invited me in to help them with their project for the Innovator's Competition, in fact it felt like they insisted on it with Isha either pulling or pushing me to the lab with them. If I remember correctly it's some kind of chem energy cell that lasts longer and outputs more power. I couldn't do much on the research or figuring out how it works, but I could help with more labor tasks just like old times and Isha seemed to love learning from them. Besides that they would plop me into one of the bean bags or couch and let me watch them at work. Occasionally playing with Isha when she get's bored of waiting to continue working. I didn't mind; it felt nice not being alone. We eventually got the damn thing working, but they still need to run some tests.

Anyway, Isha drags me out to the bar where I see the boys with Powder sitting at their usual table and Vander getting the bar ready for the day while talking with Benzo. He turns to Isha and I as we sit at the bar. Opting for two tall chairs with backs to lean on instead of the regular stools.

"Rise and shine. Today's gonna be a big day," he says before heading to the back and coming back out with two plates of food, "Here, eat up. It's still warm." he says as he sets them down for us. Isha immediately stuffing her face, which makes me slow her down before enjoying my own.

"So, how many people are you expecting tonight?" I ask curiously as I eat my breakfast.

"Quite a lot. There's gonna be a whole party goin' on here along with the competition. Music and dancin'. Y'know Gert, right?." He asks, making me smirk.

"Of course. The girl Mylo has a crush on~" I say out loud teasingly as I glance at him. He flips me the bird as a response and I giggle before I turn back to a chuckling Vander.

"She has a band called "The Chem Sisters". They're gonna perform tonight, and Heimerdinger said he might play some toons too. Said he was working on some bar songs."

"Ha! Can't wait hear those!" Benzo says with a laugh.

"Hey I never asked, what's the big deal about the competition anyway? Is there some big prize?" I ask and I am greeted with Powder sitting next to me and scooting closer.

"Yes and no." she says as she steals some food off my plate. I give her a glare before poking her arm with my fork, making her laugh as Ekko comes up to sit next to Isha. Scooting his stool closer and laying and arm across Isha and I's seats, and I feel his arm brush against my back.

"There is a trophy for the winner, but it's mainly to catch the eyes of investors. Get them to invest in you or your invention, or at least have eyes on you to invest in for future projects or something." Ekko explains for me.

"Ooooh, so the real prize is just getting the spotlight in front of the investors?"

"Yup. The top three are likely to get more eyes on them and if your invention works and you get your bag, that's when you can start taking off in life. Or at least that's the idea." Powder says as she leans her head on my shoulder and letting out a sigh. A normal occurrence from both her and Ekko whenever we hang out somewhere. Ever since that one night we accidentally fell asleep in a pile in Powder's lab after losing track of time and spending all day working.

'It actually wasn't that bad. Best sleep I ever had in fact.'

For some reason, I spot a look from both Vander and Benzo. Their eyes going between Powder and Ekko, and I glance over and see Ekko shifting and adjusting in his seat; avoiding eye contact.

"Something wrong?" Powder asks sounding a little nervous, but is acting casual. Leaning more into me.

'Did they do something?' I wonder before looking at Vander and Benzo. The both of them having slightly narrowed eyes before glancing at each other, then looking back at us.

"Nothin'."

"Yeah, nothin'. Don't worry 'bout it." Benzo says as Vander moves and leans over to him and they start having a hushed conversation. Making me even more confused.

"What was that about?" I ask both Powder and Ekko.

"I dunno." "No clue." They both say with shrugs.

'Clearly I'm not gonna get an answer. Better just drop it.' I thought before I put whatever that was aside and finish my breakfast.

"So, you and Isha gonna join us again?" Powder asks, making Isha tug on my sleeve.

"I know, I remember Isha. Don't worry," I say to her before turning back to Powder, "I promised Isha I'd take her out for some ice cream today and get her an outfit for the party tonight, if she didn't have another paint bomb accident." I say making Powder stiffen before sitting up.

"You-You're going alone?" Powder asks with concern clearly in her voice.

"No. I going with Isha. But yeah, besides her it might just be the two of us."

"But what if you two get lost or something?"

"I think we'll be fine. It shouldn't be too hard to find our way there."

"What if you get hurt?," Ekko asks which makes me look at him in confusion, "Zaun is more safe than ever, but that doesn't mean there isn't any bad eggs stills around. Your leg still isn't fully healed, so if something goes wrong, you might not be able to get away." he explains his worries, but I still feel confused about their concern.

"You're not wrong, but what are the chances of something really bad happening that I'll need to run away? There's a bunch of enforcers on patrol too." I say to try to reassure them, but fail based on their conflicted looks.

"We can go!," I hear Claggor call out and we turn to look, "Mylo and I aren't doing anything today, so we can go with you. We could use a break after spending so much time on our plants." he explains and I see Powder relax a little out of the corner of my eye.

"Are you sure? You don't need to do any finishing touches on your plants or anything?"

"No. The samples from the tree and the plants really helped out a lot into understanding how to get them to grow and still produce air. We already spent the past few days running tests, so we're pretty much ready for tonight's competition."

"There we go. That solves it." Powder says before going back to her relaxed posture leaning against me again and I glance over to Ekko to see he also relaxed. I hear a chuckle from Claggor and glance back to see Mylo shaking his head.

"And people say I'm stupid," he says to Claggor sounding perplexed before turning back to us, "So what are we doing? I wasn't listening."

"We're gonna get clothes for Isha for tonight, then get her some ice cream. Maybe one of those big cones with three scoops." I say, which makes Isha excited; bobbing in her seat.

"You think we spoil her too much?" Ekko asks as Powder picks more food off of my plate.

"Definitely," I pinch Isha's cheek because she's being too adorable, "but she's our spoiled kid, so who cares." I say before pulling in Isha for a quick tight hug, then once again catch Vander and Benzo giving a skeptical look our way before turning back to their conversation.

"A-Anyway, we better get the energy cell ready. Right, Ekko?" Powder says as she stands up from her seat.

"Yeah. You two stay safe out there." Ekko says quickly as he stands up and they both go speed walking out of the bar. Clearly in a rush.

"Well. I'm done, what about you?," I ask Isha and she nods her head before hopping off her seat, "Alright. You two ready to go? Or you need to get breakfast too?" I ask Claggor and Mylo.

"Nah, we got something on the way here this morning." Mylo says as they get up from there table.

"Alright. Vander, we're heading out. We'll be back before the competition starts." I say as we head towards the doors.

"Stay safe out there."

"Bye!" I say and Isha gives him a wave before we all head out for the day.

Vander Pov

"She has got to be the most clueless person I've ever met." Benzo asks after we watch them leave.

"No kiddin'. I mean, I knew they spent a lot of time together. Never thought they'd get like that though." I say, as I look at him disbelief and remembering Powder leaning against Y/n and Ekko having an arm out behind her and Isha being protective, "I know those kinds of looks Benzo. You saw that too right?"

"Thought my glasses might have been playing tricks, but you're right. Those two lovebirds are usually always with themselves in that lab of hers; never seen them bring anyone else with them in there that much," he says as I refill his drink for him and filling a glass for myself, "I'm wonderin' if they both know what each other's feelin'."

"They most likely do if you ask me. After that "she's our kid" comment those two looked more red than a tomato." I say with a chuckle at the image.

"I see why they would. Have you seen those four goin' out around town? Only a month and they're already actin' like a small family they are. I heard the rumors, but thought that's all they were." Benzo says before drinking from his glass.

"You're not alone. I only found out about it when Gert asked me one time during her shift, thought she was joking till I started really taking notice of those two's behavior around Y/n. It's pretty obvious now. Especially after that; never saw Powder get that comfy with anyone but Ekko," I say before taking a sip from my own glass, "So, what's your opinion on it?"

"Y'know me Vander, if they want to and Y/n is fine with it, then I don't see a problem with it. It's not like we haven't met anyone before who had some "friends"."

"That's different. What those two got goin' for her is more than just wantin' a "friend" Benzo. They want her heart."

"Hah! That's pretty obvious. They're already rasin' a kid with her. We better be careful, or else next week they'll be married. Wouldn't mind her as a daughter-in-law though. She fits right in around here." Benzo says, making me chuckle at the idea.

"I wouldn't mind either."

Ekko Reader

"Well it looks stable, power is going through fine, no leaks and not overheating. I think this baby is ready," Powder says after checking off a list of precautions we're taking. I watch her from her workstation as she examines the power cell and can't help but admire the look in her eyes. The passion behind them, "You're staring again."

I snap out of it and fumble with a screw driver I was holding as she laughs.

"U-Uh sorry. Can't help it sometimes." I say as she walks up and wipes some grease off my face before she leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek

"You're cute when you try to flirt," She says as she sits on the chair for her workstation and stretches, "I wish Y/n and Isha were here. We would be celebrating together." she sees with a fond look in her eyes and I can't help but do the same.

"It feels like somethings missing without them."

"Yeah," she says, obvious that her mind is wandering before blinking out of the trance she was in, "By the way, should we talk about that? Y/n, I mean. Y'know?" Powder asks, the first time either of us have actually addressed this topic about her.

'It's pretty obvious.'

"I mean, if you want to. We can. Only if you're ready though."

"Are you ready to talk about it?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

".......Tomorrow then?"

"That sounds good." I say with some relief in my voice. Too much on my mind today to really talk about this.

"So, I guess we're finally done. Investors are gonna eat this thing up, so be ready to feel like eye candy to them." she says with a satisfied smile. I can't help but feel conflicted as I glance between the energy cell and Powder, not wanting to ruin the moment.

".....Hey, I uh, I wanted to actually ask you something." I try to start off, but she is already giving me a skeptical look.

"Yeeeaaaaah?"

"I-I was thinking. Maybe we can present it together, as partners?" I ask her and I already see the hesitance on her face, "I wouldn't have been able to do this without you, and you seem to really like doing this. If we were to present together-"

"Ekko. I just.... I just don't know, okay?," she says as she starts to close in on herself before shaking her head and standing up, "I'm going to get ready. You should too." she says before she starts to leave.

"Powder!," I call out to her, but she doesn't stop, "Damn it."

Reader Pov

"Look at you. You look great Isha," I say as she wears her new frilly dress I got her. We got back awhile ago to prepare for the party for the Innovator's Competition and because the sun was getting low. Isha immediately wanted to go put on her dress; dragging me upstairs without giving me a chance to say hi to Ekko at the bar or bye to Claggor and Mylo before they left to get the plant they chose to show off for the competition, "Ready to show off to people?" I ask and she nods her head before holding my hand and we make our way back down to the bar.

As we walk down the stairs and I look over the people that have arrived a little early for the competition I hear Vander call out to us over all the noise.

"Now who let a princess in the bar, huh?" he says making Isha smile brightly and laugh a little while I also see Benzo and Ekko smile at her from there seats. We reach the bottom of the steps and I help Isha up onto a seat.

"Aw, she looks lovely," I hear from behind and turn to see Silco.

"Silco! You made it!" Benzo says as he claps a hand against Silco's shoulder.

"I wouldn't miss such an important event. Plus, we have royalty visiting." he says as he gestures to Isha with a slight bow, and Vander pulls out a coloring book and crayons from behind the bar for her.

"Get over here. I'm gonna need help serving tonight." Vander says, making Silco chuckle and he ruffles Isha's hair before heading behind the bar with Vander.

I smile at the two before noticing Ekko looking down and I get a look from Benzo. He nods towards Ekko, before moving over to Isha and asking her about her coloring book while I take his seat next to Ekko.

"What's got you so down in the dumps? Something happen to the power cell?" I ask, a little worried about all the hard work he and Powder put into it going to waste.

"No. That's not it. It's just..... I made Powder upset." he says and I give him a skeptical look.

"You didn't say something stupid did you? Did you say "Yes" when asks if she looks fat in a dress? You always say "No". It's not an actual question, Ekko" I ask jokingly which makes him chuckle and nudge my leg a little with his.

"No! Not that. At least I don't think I said something stupid," he says now making me look at him in genuine confusion. He turn on his stool to face me directly and I do the same, "Look, I know we've only known each other for little over a month, but we spent a lot of time together. You..... You see the same thing that I do in Powder, right? When she works? And focuses in on an idea?"

"Oh, yeah! Of course! Passion in her eyes, fully invested on the task, prodigy, genius, talented and a whole lotta potential. You both are the same like that..... except Powder has a habit of biting her lip when she's in her work trance," I finish before looking at Ekko and he stares at me in silence, "What?"

"U-Uh sorry. But yeah, yes! Exactly! I asked Powder if she would present the power cell with me as partners, so that maybe she would start pursuing her passion, but she didn't want to. It's not just this either. She has always been hesitating on pursuing a dream or passion and I don't know why. I know she can be great, an-and I'm not saying I don't like her now, it's just I know she has this passion that she loves and can pursue. But-"

"She's holding herself back for some reason?"

"Yes," he says with a sigh and takes a few breathes before hesitating to look back at me, "I know this might seem like a weird thing to ask, but d-" I cut him off by with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll talk to her." I say which makes him smile before surprisingly he gives me a hug.

"Thank you." he says and I gladly return the hug even tighter.

"It's fine. As long as you don't mind keeping watch of princess over there." I say as I point a thumb over my shoulder towards Isha.

"It would be an honor, but I don't really know where Powder went. I haven't seen her since she walked off."

"I'm sure I can find her." I say as I stand up and head back up the stairs, already having an idea of where she might be.

'There was always a certain spot she liked to go to.'

I make my way up and up through doors and more stairs leading to upper levels of Zaun. I see and hear more people making their way to The Last Drop for the event. I get to look out over Zaun, the higher I go the more of Zaun and Piltover I get to see before finally reaching that special place I have engraved in my head. Powder sitting by herself at the edge in a new outfit and her hair down.

"Powder?" I call out to her and she turns around. I see she applied makeup and her new outfit in full. A nice jacket with a white dress making a simple, but very good combo.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" she asks sounding confused as I walk closer to stand nearby, not wanting to invade her space since she might still be in a bad mood.

"Looking for you. Ekko said you were upset." I say, which makes her slightly sad before turning back forward to the beautiful view of our home.

"You didn't have to come looking for me. It wasn't anything bad."

"I know, but I wanted to find you make sure you're okay and..... maybe talk about something?" I say that last part with a little hesitance, which makes her sigh.

"Why?," she asks, still looking forward at the view, "Why does everyone keep pushing me on this? What's wrong with just staying where I am?"

"Because then you'll be stuck Powder. You'll be stuck while the world moves on and regrets build up," I say to try to reach out to her, "We all care for you, and we all know you have a gift. I know that may sound weird since we only met like a month ago, but I've seen the way you work with Ekko. You love inventing and working in that kind of stuff. What's holding you back?" I ask, genuinely curious on the reason.

She stays silent for a few second before I finally hear something.

"I'm scared."

"Huh?"

"*sigh* I'm scared." she says, now making me perplexed at that answer.

"Scared? You? What could you possibly be scared of?" I ask with a short laugh at the idea.

"My-......Myself."

That freezes me in place. My feet feeling rooted in the ground at that answer. At Powder being scared of herself. Just like before. Before she became Jinx.

"W-What?" I ask, trying to control my breathing and ignore the old memories resurfacing again.

"All my life, ever since I was young I always found a way to just mess something up," she says my eyes widening at her words. At their similarity to what she said to me before, "It's like I was bad luck or something. I go on a job with my siblings, it goes wrong. I try to invent something, it doesn't work or ends up hurting someone. What if..... what if I mess up again?"

"But, you were young then Powder. There's nothing wrong with failing; we're all supposed to fail and learn from them to get better. It shapes us. Makes us stronger." I say to try and reassure her, but I don't seem to reach her.

"I-I..... I don't know," she says as she stands up, "Maybe I'm just a jinx."

Jinx. That damn word echoes in my head. Memories of a young Powder crying and blaming herself for the deaths of Vander, Mylo, and Claggor. Believing herself to be destined to hurt everyone close to her. To never know peace or happiness.

'No! Not again!'

Powder turns around and walks past me to leave, but I grab her arm and turn her back around to stop her.

"No!," I say letting my emotions get to me as she stares at me in shock, "You listen to me, Powder. You have the making of greatness inside of you, but you gotta push for it. You need to leap! Charge down the path you want in life and let nothing get in your way," I take a step back and gesture towards the city with my arms, "and when the time comes in life for you to really test your inner iron and steel and show the world what you're made of. I-I can only hope I get to be there that day Powder. Catching some of the light shining off of you," I say as I look up at the stars starting to shine in the night sky, "You may not believe in yourself Powder, but I do," I say before turning back to look at her with tears running down my eyes and cup her face with my hands gently, "You're gonna rattle the stars one day. I know it."

I stand there in tears and see her eyes water before she shoots forward and embraces me into a close hug. I hold her close to me, hearing her sniffles and labored breathes. I take in the moment and just hold her close to me, feeling my shirt get wet from her tears.

We stand there for what feels like forever in each other's embrace, before I feel her pull away but still hold on close and I see her makeup streaking down her face, so I wipe them away with my sleeves.

"You-You're makeu-"

"Shut up." she says before I feel her grab my collar and pull me into a deep kiss her arms wrapping around my neck. My head blanking for that moment not knowing what to do as I feel her explore me deeply before pulling away. Then I start to panic.

"Wha-!" I go to yell, but she puts a finger over my lips.

"Ekko knows," she says, making my brain even more fried than it was a second ago and based off her laugh it shows on my face, "C'mon, I'll tell him about this tonight and we can talk about it all tomorrow. I just really needed that." she says before dragging me back down the stairs and leading me to the bar while I'm left with no words.

'What the fuck.' Is the only thing I have on my mind as we arrive back at the bar. All the sound and music not registering as Powder puts me on a bar stool.

"You're back!" I hear Ekko yell out and I turn to see him and Powder hug and kiss. The kiss brining back memories from just a few minutes ago and Powder gives me a wink, confusing Ekko and making me blush.

"I want to talk to you for a second." Powder says to him before pulling him off to somewhere as I stare at the bar counter; still processing what the fuck just happened.

"You okay?"

My head shoots up and makes eye contact with Vander and I immediately start to panic again.

"U-Uh u-um, ye-yeah. I'm fine. I just....," I say as I stare at the back door of the bar that I know leads to the alley, "I just need a breather from all these people. Be right back." I say before quickly rushing off towards the back door, and step outside for fresh air.

I take some deep breathes of the cool fresh air of the night.

'Calm down. Just breathe and calm down.'

I slowly steady my breathing before looking back at the door and consider going back in, but back out and instead head down the alleyway.

'I need to walk. Get my mind off of, whatever the fuck just happened.'

I thought before walking down the alleyway towards the main street which looked much more busy and crowded tonight.

"It really is a par-"

I'm cut off by a sudden force of pain to the back of my head and falling to the ground; my helmet rolling away from me. The world goes blurry and my head dizzy as I reach for my gun, but my hand is stomped on and my gun is taken from me.

"Got you now. Bloodhound," I hear someone say before I feel my multiple footsteps and my hands be tied behind my back and my mouth gagged, "I think it's time for payback gang." they say before I feel myself be picked up. Too light headed and dizzy to fight back.

'Help.'

Hope you enjoyed. Sorry if there are grammar mistakes.

[the-lisechen]

~6.7k. gen. copia/f!oc. the cardinal has a cigarette with a fan. from there, it gets a little weird. (or: copia gets into a fist fight at 3am in a denny's parking lot over theology. metaphorically speaking.)

header by the divine @enjoy-my-swearing

(the fic that started it all and has eaten my brain ever since. don't mind me, i just wanted to reformat this one and also have it on my tumblr for posterity)

some kind of cosmic rearrangement - ao3

(full series here)

religious discussion, catholic character that isn't an asshole, unresolved sexual tension. tw: catholicism

Copia stepped out into the night, face paint mostly cleaned off, save for the black around his eyes. He couldn't even remember the name of the town they were in. Somewhere in the American South, the air warm and heavy with humidity that felt like silk against his skin. He settled his shoulders against the brick of the alleyway, and sighed, his blood still fizzing from the ritual. The comedown from the adrenaline dump always left him a little hollowed out and shaky.

As he passed a hand over his face, the car in front of him trilled out like a bird and flashed its lights. He turned to the sound of boots up the wet pavement. A small figure, female, dishwater blonde hair, head down, hands stuffed into black skinny jeans. Humming something he could recognize as one of his songs, and that never got old.

He watched her approach, curious. When she at last stepped into the light, she looked up at him, and startled like a deer. Her hands flew up to her mouth, and she squeaked out a breathless “Oh shit!” It took her a moment to recover, and my, wasn't that an interesting shade of pink. He’d seen people blush, of course, but this was remarkable, that red, that quickly.

He had to smile, even bowing a little. “Bunoasera, signora."

"Um! Hi! You are very good at your job!"

Her purse plopped next to her feet, and she knelt down to recollect it, the blush deepening to the color of late spring roses. "Sorry, I'm sorry--" she said, hands shaking as she scooped spilled detritus back into her purse, pens and lip balm spilling from her fingers.

He bent over to help her, smiling. "It is no trouble, signora. Not the worst I've seen." He paused, sitting back on his heels, and picked up a battered paperback the color of burnt orange. "'The Liberation of Theology.'" He looked up at her, mismatched eyes sharp, assessing. "This is what you read? At my show?"

The girl-- woman, really-- went still. She got to her feet and took half a step back, widening her stance, her shoulders squared. "Yeah." She tilted her chin up. "Is it really that strange?"

He flipped it to read the back cover, and her spine relaxed a fraction, with his focus off of her. "Perhaps... somewhat unexpected." An understatement. He stood, slow, putting himself further into her personal space, eyes still on the text in his hand. He read the subtitle. "'An instrument in human liberation.' Has it been?" He looked down at her, not exactly trying to loom, but not exactly going out of his way not to. "In your experience."

The woman folded her arms, leaning back against her car. Keeping her distance. "It can be. It should be." She flipped her keyring, once. "And in my experience? Yes, actually. But I am fully aware my experience may be-- atypical."

"In what way?"

"Well." She looked up, exposing the long pale line of her throat, and her Southern accent became gradually more apparent as she spoke. "I converted to Catholicism. Not really from anything, you understand, unless you count the vaguely agnostic Protestant background noise in America. And I did my catechism classes with a Capuchin Franciscan. A lot of mysticism. And a lot of social action to offset the navel-gazing that comes with that. The culture was-- it's different. I mean, how much do you know about liberation theology?"

"For the purposes of this conversation?" He idly tapped her book against his thigh. "Let us say... not much."

"In simple terms: feed the hungry, clothe the naked. Like the guy said in the book, right? It's both defending the poor and taking aim at the structural issues that are actively oppressing people. Real basic."

"You need a God to tell you this?"

He saw her warming to the subject, eyes alight and not quite on his. "Of course not, but it's a useful framework. And some people do! Whatever provides incentive. Besides that, it works on a practical level, if the Church is your primary social apparatus, that's a structure in place to distribute resources if the state is failing. I mean, the Jesuit approach in South America is not quite the same as the Black church in the Civil Rights movement in the USA in the Sixties, but it's not too far off, either. It's like--" and she cut herself off, the blush coming back, eyes cast downward. "It's just what's supposed to happen. What it says on the tin."

He ruffled the pages with a gloved hand a few times, watching her. "Incentive." He gestured at her with the book, halfway to accusatory. "If someone is doing something in expectation of divine reward, then they are, I'm afraid, an asshole."

"Man, I truly do not care about the motive. I care about the effect it has on the world. But faith without works is dead."

"You believe this."

"Yeah."

"You are this passionate about it, and yet you came to see me. My songs are nothing but blasphemy. Why?"

"Look, as blasphemy goes-- and I'm not trying to denigrate anything you're doing here-- this is just not that big a deal."

He stared at her. "I am literally praising the devil. Literal songs about, literally, devil worship."

"Yeah, and it slaps. Can I have my book back?"

He held it out carefully, as if it was a chunk of meat and she was a strange animal. One that might bite. "What is it, then, that qualifies as blasphemy? In your opinion."

She took it, opened the backseat door to her car, and tossed it in, careful not to turn her back on him. "I dunno. Start with that 'prosperity gospel' bullshit. 'If you're rich, it's because Jesus wants you to be rich!' Joel Osteen can bite the fucking curb. It's lazy exegesis, is what it is." Again, he saw her restrain herself, and she ran a hand through her hair, embarrassed. "I can go on. Obviously. But I think if you're getting bent out of shape about this kind of thing, you need to reassess your priorities."

"No, this is-- at least amusing. You haven't chased us out with torches and pitchforks yet, so I will continue to assume good faith." He smiled. "So to speak."

"Trust me, I am leaving a lot of stuff out." She fished around in her purse, picked out a brilliantly blue pack of cigarettes, and tapped them rhythmically on the heel of her hand. "So what's your deal? I don't know a lot about theistic Satanism. Pop the hood on it, man, tell me how it works."

"In simple terms?"

"Sure." She cracked a smile, thumbing a cigarette out of the pack.

"We honor the serpent that brought knowledge to Eve, as a liberator from the oppression of the corrupted demiurge that you call God."

"The snake, this was one of those gnostic things, right? That was, what, the Ophites? I thought they found it at Nag Hammadi."

"Fragments. References. But we have had the Syntagma for centuries. This was Hippolytus, yes? We borrowed a few things from Marcion of Sinope, as well. From those texts, and other pieces of what you would call apocrypha, we solidified a doctrine. Eventually. These things take time, no? Remind me, when did your people decide on the canon?"

"Council of Rome. I wanna say three..." she tapped the unlit cigarette, "...eighty seven? Somewhere in there. Fourth century, anyway."

"Just so. As a, you'd say-- distinct movement, yes? I would say sometime around the twelfth century that we came together."

"Hold on, twelfth century, evil demiurge-- what was this, like a splinter of the Cathars?"

"Not unrelated. When it came to that kind of dualism, we merely decided to side with the physical world."

"By running straight to the devil."

"Eh. No half measures."

"I'm just kinda surprised it got traction in that environment."

"Mostly on the-- margins, you would say? We had solidified the clerical structure some time before, modeled on the Catholic church. Camouflage, yes? But it was with the obvious corruption of the fourteenth century that we started to gain momentum. Acolytes. A whisper network of proselytization."

"That is neat. Like, what, a Dark Reformation kind of thing?"

"...That is, perhaps, somewhat reductive. But not inaccurate."

"Oh that is so cool. It's like finding a whole new life form in the Marianas Trench. No, I can see a kind of sense to it. Get far enough away from Rome, look as close as you can to the actual Church, you might get away with it."

"They did burn us. Your people did do that."

"I am sure that they did," she said, with a certain blithe amicability. "Burnt a lot of Cathars, too, makes sense. Sir-- Father-- I'm sorry. What is the title?"

"Cardinal."

A blink, barely perceptible. "Cardinal, then. Your Eminence, if you want me to stand here and apologize for every atrocity the Church committed, we're gonna be here all night, and it'll get boring quick. And, forgive me, at what point have I attached a moral judgment over your faith?"

He spread his hands, smiling a little. "Very well, I concede the point. You can understand if I am somewhat-- defensive."

"Yeah, of course." She grinned, mostly to herself. "And here I am, a good Catholic girl. Everything you rail against."

"Eh. It could be worse. You could be a Baptist."

She let out a laugh at that, an entirely inelegant sound, and Copia felt as if he'd won something.

"Oh. No. No, I couldn't. Too diffuse. A million different opinions going every which way. I'm also not into sola fide--"

"'By faith alone.'"

"Yeah. Not my bag. If it doesn't inspire you to help your fellow human beings and not just focus on your own salvation, it's probably bullshit." Finally she put the cigarette she'd been fidgeting with into her mouth. "Man. Cathars and gnostics." The woman brought out a burnished zippo and flipped the lid, a faintly musical sound. She didn't light her cigarette, but shot him a sidelong look, eyes alight. "Sounds more like heresy than outright blasphemy."

"Oh, now I'm offended." He was not, in fact, offended. He was fascinated. He wanted to study her under a microscope. "Certainly, that's the first time I've heard that. Maybe I should send you to talk to the-- ehh, how is it? The protestors. What do you call, the evangelicals, yes?"

"They don't like Catholics, either. The veneration of Mary, y'know? Idolatry." Finally she sparked the lighter, her face turning to alabaster in the light of the flame. "We're both going to hell in their lights. Just different neighborhoods." She bent her head to the light. A long drag on the cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke upwards. "So no, I don't think going to a concert counts as a sin. There's just some songs I can't sing along to, is all."

Copia leaned back against the wall, arms folded, considering her. "You know that your Church would call this blasphemy. What is it, then, that you think I'm doing, if not spreading the word of Satan?"

A long drag of her cigarette. "Sick tunes, man," she said, around the smoke. Shrugged. "It's fun. And fun is underrated, as a concept."

"Signora, I don't think 'fun' is what brought you here." He leveled her with his mismatched stare, and she dropped her eyes.

"No," she said, studying the cherry on her cigarette. "No, fun would not be enough."

He took a step closer, not quite edging into her personal space. "What, then? What could possibly bring you to deny your programming, when you clearly believe with such conviction?"

The back of her shoulders hit the top of her car, but she tilted her head up at him in challenge. "Call it joy, then." A defiant kind of vulnerability. "That's what I hear in your songs. And that's a rarer thing."

"What a monstrous thing, to deny joy. To yourself, to others. That sounds to me like blasphemy. What abnegation of the self. We are not hurting anyone. I am not hurting anyone. Why not do as you like?"

"'An it harm none, do as thou wilt.'"

"Precisely."

"Isn't that, what, Louÿs by way of Crowley? Nineteenth century. I thought your stuff was older than that."

"That is beside the point and you know it. Answer me."

"Because that's where it falls apart for me! To begin and end with 'do no harm' does not work. You cannot always do exactly as you like, you have an obligation in society! Feed the hungry. 'Do what you want, whatever,' that's too passive. And being passive in the face of oppression is oppression! Come on, man, you must know this. You're too smart not to know this."

"I'm sorry, you want to talk about oppression? With the literal Catholic Church? With the colonialism and the forced conversion and the actual literal Inquisition? Even laying that aside, the harm it's doing now, how can you still stay with it?"

"Because that's not all it is! Not all it could be. Because it can be just, it can be equitable, and it can be used as a tool for liberation. I believe that, I do. And if if I'm in it-- and oh boy you would not believe how much I'm in it-- then I have a moral obligation to try to shape it towards those ends. Because those people--" she flung a hand out, gesturing towards what, he couldn't say, and he took a step back. "Those bullshit assholes that want to strip people of healthcare and gut the social safety net-- they're in my house! And they don't get to fucking win."

"You must see that this is about control. You are too smart not to know this."

The woman slumped back against her car, and took another long drag on her cigarette, before dropping it and crushing it under her boot, an oddly fussy swiveling motion. "I dunno, man. For me it's about service. You just don't fix something by walking away. And anyway I'm committed."

"I think you are tilting at windmills." He watched her, the last tendrils of cigarette smoke from her exhale the same blue-grey of her eyes, letting the silence linger until the smoke cleared entirely. "What is your name?"

She flicked her eyes back up at him, and then away, coming to a decision. "Sophia Turner." She bit her lip. "Sophie."

"Sophie. That's lovely."

"Thank you. And what do I call you? Feels a little weird, saying 'Your Eminence' to a guy whose faith you don't subscribe to."

He tilted his head in the faintest approximation of a bow, biting back a smile. "Copia."

"Well. I am delighted to make your acquaintance." Her accent more pronounced with the formality, a distinctly Southern drawl.

"You say you're committed. How? You don't have to stay anywhere forever."

"Oh. Oh boy. Um." She looked down at her hands, picked at the edge of a painted nail, and then turned to him, watching his mismatched eyes for a long moment. She smiled, a little rueful. "I am taking my vows in a few months." And to his blank look-- "The Maryknoll Sisters of St. Dominic." He blinked, recoiled a little, and she flinched, turning to look down the street, not seeing the rain on the asphalt, the streetlight shining on the fire escape. "I still don't think it's a sin. But it's-- maybe a little harder to square. After that. Wanted to see you while I could."

Her face composed. No-color hair hanging in grey eyes. He wanted to reach out, to brush it away, to see her clear, to make her look at him. A gulf between them, on the narrow sidewalk. Something twisted in his chest, at the waste of it, the thought of a fire like that locked in a cloister. And yet: "I could never fault someone for devotion to their faith. The discipline is admirable. Truly. But I would-- Are you allowed? To fraternize with the enemy?"

"Well. Maybe in the spirit of friendly ecumenical dialogue." She looked up at the streetlights, shoulders tensed. She chewed at her lip. "We are allowed to have friends, you know."

He had to drop his gaze, at that, a sharp inhalation. "Ah." And again: "Ah. Hm." He looked back up at her, at the tense muscle in her jaw, her face still resolutely turned away from him. "I wonder--?"

She darted a quick look at him, not quite daring to look at him full-on, yet, and made a motion for him to continue.

He had to smile, even if it was with a little trepidation. "Do you have another cigarette?"

That rough bark of a laugh again, and yes, it felt like a victory. "Yeah. Yeah, man, sure." She pulled out the cigarette pack and extracted one, holding it out with the slightest self-deprecating hint of ceremony. He took it between his gloved fingers, careful not to touch her. When he put it to his lips she leaned in to light it in a movement that seemed both courtly and instinctual, an ingrained habit. He couldn't quite look at her when she did it, shocked by the casual intimacy of the gesture. The warmth of the flame through his gloves, the first rough hit of smoke at the back of his throat and the head-swimming nicotine rush. An awful taste, and completely satisfying. He closed his eyes at it and drew in deep, amazed all over again at how much tension dissipated on the exhale.

When the initial wave of the nicotine high had passed, the fatigue settled in, and he tilted his head back against the bricks, eyes still closed, too tired to be on guard. "Where are we? I confess, I lost track."

"...Asheville, honey." A pause."D'jeet yet?"

Well, that certainly got him to look at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Oh, that was very pronounced, wasn't it? My apologies. Have you eaten?"

His brain felt like static. It was all the answer she needed. "What I figured. C'mon, I know a spot."

"I should--" He stopped, inexplicably stricken. "We're leaving in the morning. I don't remember where's next. Charleston, perhaps?"

"I'll have you home before bedtime, scout's honor." He hesitated. Gently: "I don't have designs on your virtue, Cardinal."

He was tired, and sore, and his head was starting to hurt somewhere behind his right eye. He could feel the dried sweat on himself, like a film, absolutely revolting.

"Alright," he said.

She led and he followed, falling into step at her left elbow, almost without thought. "This is the South, yes? We won't-- we might attract. Attention."

"Mm. I might would worry about it somewhere wasn't Asheville. Here'd probably be fine."

"That seems to be an awful lot of weight to put on 'probably.'"

"More worried about someone from your show running into us and losing their minds, be honest with you."

"As in, dropping their purse and squealing?" Was he enjoying this? He was.

"Oh you think you're funny. And I did not squeal."

"Heh. It was a little bit of a squeal."

"Ain't gonna argue the point with you."

The nicotine felt wonderful. He grinned up at the streetlight filtering through a magnolia tree, the orange light reflecting on the leaves, the faint citrus scent hanging in the thick air. He couldn't restrain himself. "You are not, I hope, leading me into temptation?"

"Oh, foul! Foul. Get thee behind me."

"Equally terrible, signora."

They lapsed into silence for a while. Copia came to the last quarter inch of his cigarette, pinching off one more drag before dropping it down a storm drain. The smell would linger, but it had been blissful in the moment. "So."

"So."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Barbecue joint, open all night. Just up here, actually. You had barbecue yet?"

"I have not."

"You in for a treat, then."

They rounded the corner, heading into the jaundiced sodium light of a patchy parking lot, under a flickering red neon sign. 'Little Pigs Genuine Pit BBQ.' It seemed somehow ominous, but the set of her shoulders reassured him. Somewhat. She pushed open the door with its small jangling bell to red vinyl booths, formica tabletops, wood paneling. Vinegar and roasting meat.

He could feel the eyes on them as she ordered for them both, in a dialect so thick it was almost incomprehensible to him. He stepped closer to murmur, "Coffee for me, please, signora," while he surveilled the crowd. Not outright hostile, had seen stranger things, maybe, but a collective flicker of curiosity before sliding off of them. That flat and unsympathetic gaze. Her accent helped. His obvious manners did as well. Still, he was on edge.

He stayed on edge until he slid into a booth opposite her with his back to the wall, and even then it only let up slightly, a background hum to go along with the labored air conditioning. The barbecue was very nearly worth it, salt and sweet and vinegar and umami, along with the blunt force animal pleasure at hot food after a long time without. He looked up at her, making an inarticulate noise of shocked delight through the sandwich, and she nodded in eager agreement with her mouth full. Swallowed. "I know, right?"

"You cannot convert me."

"Okay. Wasn't trying."

"If you could, this might do it."

"Welcome to the South. It's got problems, but there are compensations."

"So I see."

They lost themselves in the food for a little while, and Copia, a usually fastidious man, found that it was actually impossible to eat a barbecue sandwich neatly. After a while he gave up trying, grateful for the strange softness of American paper napkins. It made sense, if the food was like this. He eyed her iced tea, wondering about it, if that was also an American custom, or if it only applied to the region.

She caught him looking after half a second, and passed it over with barely an eyeblink of thought, the most natural thing in the world.

"Oh, and you've lost me. This is an obscene amount of sugar."

"They do call it 'sweet tea' for a reason."

"Are you sure that this isn't just colored sugar water?"

"Reasonably so. Might be accentual, brings out the depth of flavor, like. Least it isn't corn syrup."

"This is a nightmare dystopia you live in."

"Could be. Try one of them hush puppies, then you get back to me."

"Mm." Then, after following instructions, "I will concede on the food."

"Yeah. There's nowhere and nothing that's bad all the way through."

"Perhaps." He took another sip of her tea, pleased at her sputter of mock-indignation. "This brings me to where it falls apart for me. An omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent, omnibenevolent God."

"That is the doctrine."

"Why, then, evil? Why suffering?"

"We going with theodicy, then?"

He motioned for her to continue, a little gleeful.

"Which answer would you like, from the, oh, four-five thousand years that this has been a question?" She tossed the rolled-up sleeve of her straw in his general direction, smiling. "Why you coming at me with this shit, man?"

"Ehh. I want to know what you think. You, not your Church."

She nodded, and poked at the ice in her tea with her straw while she gave the question the consideration it was due. Finally: "I like Simone Weil for this. You read any Simone Weil?"

"Let us say that I haven't."

"Okay." The vinyl booth squeaked as she leaned back. "This isn't necessarily unique to her, it's got a lot of similarities with-- a Jewish creation story, yeah? But creation is where God withdrew. If God is everything, for creation to exist, there has to be places where God is not. If there's places that God is not, then almost by definition they are not, inherently, holy. It's apophatic, unknowable, like John of the Cross or Kierkegaard or what have you-- I'm getting into the weeds here. Evil is the form which God's mercy takes in the world. Affliction-- she's got a specific term for this, she's talking about spiritual affliction more than physical affliction-- doesn't create human misery, so much as reveals it. And it drives us towards God."

"That sounds, if you will pardon me, fucking horrific. The act of a sadist."

"I don't know that I'm explaining this well. We are created matter, and with affliction we are consumed by God. In the Incarnation, God suffers affliction, is made matter, and consumed by us. It's reciprocal. And if you can go through affliction and still love, and recognize your fellow human being as someone else who has suffered like you, then your duty is to help."

"No, still terrible."

"How do your people explain it, then?"

"By not having an omnipotent deity, to start."

"...I walked right into that one. I surely did. Evil demiurge, again?"

"All about control," he replied, amiable.

"Fair enough. I'm not a Jesuit, I could maybe get at this better if I was. My whole thing with it is, there's a difference between affliction-- which is personal-- and, say, generalized oppression, right? The personal makes you more empathetic with the collective."

"I can see the logic there, yes. I do not know if I agree, but I can see it. But do you truly need to suffer to sympathize with another's suffering?"

She turned her glass around in her hands, focusing hard on the ridged plastic edges. "I'unno. Some things you don't understand till you've been through them. Difference between empathy and sympathy, I guess."

"This is, what. You say, 'the personal is political?'"

She cracked a grin at that. "Oh, you done a lot of reading on second-wave feminism, then?"

"Condescending and uncalled for," he said, wagging a finger at her, mock-stern.

She held up a hand. "Fair point, apologies."

"Te absolvo."

"Thank you." She turned her glass in her hands, trailing through the condensation with a chipped fingernail. "My point being. For me. Affliction leads to empathy, and empathy leads you to act. What's the quote. 'Misery as a collective fact expresses itself as an injustice that cries to the heavens.' That's Oscar Romero, I think? Yeah. Oscar Romero. Anyway the thing he gets at-- Saint Oscar Romero, excuse me, did a lot of stuff in El Salvador in the the seventies, but the idea being: turning people into commodities for economic oppression, that's sin. The idolatry of wealth, of 'national security systems,' that's sin. Divine love should be mediated through justice. Gloria dei vivens homo--"

"'The glory of God is the living person.'"

"Yeah, exactly. Romero was on some-- gloria dei vivens pauper, which I think is probably about right."

"'The glory of God is in the poor.' Hm. And how well did that work out for him?"

"Well. They shot the guy during Mass in nineteen eighty."

"A martyr's death. Isn't that what your people aspire to?"

"Not me, man. I wanna live. But yes, he did lean in hard after his friend was killed. That was an inciting incident. I won't deny it."

"So, what, it is acceptable for one death, if it spurs on 'the greater good?'" He made air quotes at her, and she frowned.

"Not gonna debate the very concept of martyrdom with you, but I'm gonna say no, of course not. But like. Me personally? Rather that than have it go to waste. Some right wing fascist chucklefuck takes me out, I'd sure hope my people'd leverage it for all it's worth."

He sat back and tipped his coffee at her. "Bleak."

"Maybe. We each owe a death. And I mean, despite the guy being beatified, he isn't even necessarily the main dude in Latin America. None of these are exactly new concepts, you understand. But as a modern movement, really, it starts in nineteen sixty-eight, with the Medellín conference in Colombia, kind of as a response to Vatican Two, and from there--" she stopped herself, and raised her glass of tea at him in mock-salute. "Minutiae. The point, and I think I'm cribbing from Ernesto Cardenal here, is that while God is love, love can only exist in accordance with equality and justice."

He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows in total skepticism. "I can only say that this has been-- the opposite of my experience. To put it in the most, eh, diplomatic terms possible."

"The Church has done horrible, fucked up things. Continues to do horrible fucked up things. In a space that big, though, there are always going to be practices that are inherently contradictory. This one is mine. And I have the benefit of being fucking right."

"You do see, don't you, how that-- attitude? Mentality, yes? Is dangerous. Even you! Even if I happen to think that you're right. Which I actually do. The benefit of Satanism, I find, is that we do have room for differences. It is, you would say, I think, built in? There is no wrong way to approach. You find your own way. Nobody will lead you, nobody will control you."

"And how far has that kind of rugged individualism progressed the reduction of human suffering?" she snapped.

"At least it doesn't perpetuate it!" he shot back.

They glared at each other over the formica, not quite snarling, equally frustrated.

The diner had gone quiet. Blank suntanned faces, the lone clink of a spoon in a coffee cup, the somehow awful bubbling of the deep fryer. A lot of people, for one in the morning, he thought. They looked at each other in mutual alarm for one tensed breath, and went for their wallets at the same time.

"No," he said, firm, fishing past Euros for American dollars. "You are taking a vow of poverty and I am an actual rockstar." He shot a stern glance at her opened mouth and felt a stab of immense satisfaction when she shut it, apparently- miraculously, even- chastised. He threw down enough to cover the bill and the tip and reached to drag her out, stopping short of actually touching her elbow at the last moment. "Come."

She went.

They escaped with the perversely jaunty ring of the bell over the door into the thick warmth of the night, and she brayed a laugh again, not quite on the edge of hysterics.

"Go, go, this could get ugly." But he was laughing, too. Madness. He'd seen these exact sort of people outside of a venue, enraged, faces red, carrying hateful picket signs. One small woman and one man frankly built like a noodle could be in real danger. Still, their laughter echoed down the gravel-lined drive they had ducked into, their boots crunching in a staccato rhythm in the stones. This was far too much adrenaline for one night, he thought.

While they slowed to a walk, he watched the fireflies darting upwards in the undergrowth, the ascending dashes of yellow-green light seeming fantastical to him, otherworldly. You heard of great masses of them, in America, but in such quantity it was like seeing a fairytale with your own eyes. They thinned out as the landscape started to shift, from residential suburbs to side streets.

"This was-- good. It was good, to get out. To talk. A lot of this, it is, ehh." He waved a hand in the general direction they were moving, to the venue, the concert, the tour. "Movement. Instinct. There is, by definition, no quiet. And that is fantastic, I enjoy it, I love what I do, I am fortunate in that. But it is not often that I get to speak about these things." The thud of their boots, and the high monotonous drone of a cicada somewhere off in the distance, blending with the faraway hiss of a car on the damp streets. "Thank you," he said, soft. "For this."

Her eyes forward, mouth closed tight. It took her a few steps before she spoke. "You are very welcome." She cleared her throat. "And I appreciate the outside perspective."

"Interesting thing, is it not? Having a vocation."

"Being called. Yes."

"What I do not understand-- and I do not wish to, as you said, litigate the very idea of martyrdom, of course--"

"Of course. That's above my pay grade anyhow."

"But the denial inherent in your practice. The self-denial. It seems to me a, hm. Turning away from joy. You say your God is love, very well. This is removed from my experience with Christians, but I do understand that it should be the intent. To claim that divinity is love and then to willingly cut yourself off from the experience of love seems to me contradictory. Not merely the physical, although that alone seems hideous. Some people of course are not interested, but this cannot be true of all your monsastics, your clergy, your unmarried."

"This is also an old question."

"You cannot tell me it is not vital. Few people are physically martyred, and I can see the value there, even if I think it grotesque. But this seems to me a martyrdom, and willing. And pointless. Everyone should be loved, yes? Is that not your very doctrine?"

"It is, but there's different kinds of love--"

"You are dissembling. Do me the courtesy, Miss Turner, of your honesty."

Copia heard her sharp intake of breath. He had stung her, and he very nearly regretted it.

"Discourtesy wasn't my aim, Cardinal. It's an old question, and people struggle. It's maybe the struggle, for most people, the stumbling block. How can I answer you? It's kind of a personal question, y'know?"

"I can see how it would be. I do not wish to intrude, but come now. What, you offer your suffering up to God? What kind of God would ask you to give up love in the very name of love? It's monstrous!"

"The standard answer is that one becomes the bride of Christ. My thinking is, in turning away from the singular, you're better able to focus on the collective. To focus, to pay attention. And attention in its highest form is prayer."

"You deny yourself. In denial, you turn away knowledge. You said this yourself, how can you understand suffering if you have not suffered? You should know joy, or else how can you understand joy? You should be free to do that, to be in the world, and the world is here! You are here, and while you are here you should be here fully. You should allow yourself to be loved!"

He had actually raised his voice, and his words hung in the thick air, almost suspended with the humidity. He couldn't take it back, and he fell silent, mortified. They had fallen to a stop.

"It's discipline," she said, helpless. She couldn't look at him, and he had to look away at her expression.

"In any case." He cleared his throat, and resumed walking. "Discipline I understand. There is discipline in my practice, you know."

"I can see that. Dedication, certainly. Seems like the whole world's against you. The dominant social climate is not accommodating to being that outspoken about, well, anything to do with sincere belief, really, but especially in your case."

"No. And in this situation, it is easy to-- tend to isolate. To stay in one's own community. Safer. Especially in a hostile environment. Anger is easy, you would say."

"Don't I know it. You do have to live in the world. I think you and I both have cause to be angry. Hell, we're probably angry at a lot of the same things. Coming at it from opposite directions, is all."

"The hypocrisy is galling," he agreed. "If I am a monster in the eyes of these people, let me be an honest monster. They feed their children poison and tell them it is virtue, to hate, to fear, I do not--" he cut himself off, blew out a laugh. "We are angry about the same things. The work is the same. We are both called to liberate, yes?"

"Yeah, I would allow that's fairly definitional."

"Here, you take that side, I will take this one, and we will meet in the middle and cast off all oppression," he said, grandly, sweeping out an arm as if he were back on stage. He echoed her smile on pure reflex.

"And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."

"Julian of Norwich. An anchoress." Something in the concept, and in the simultaneous hope and resignation in her face, pierced his heart all the way through. She was remote, and lost to him, a marble statue of a saint. The nature of his ministry was to encourage pleasure, of mind and of body, and he did want to break her out of the cell she'd walled herself off into. Perhaps merely for his own satisfaction, when freedom was the whole of his law. Even her freedom to walk into her own cage. "Not so much to be consoled as to console," he said, halfway to himself, watching her.

"Francis of Assisi. But I think you knew that."

"I did."

"You are something else, aren't you?" She looked at him, pleased and reassessing. He felt seen, almost entire.

It was not an entirely comfortable feeling. "Ah," he said. "Perhaps."

He recognized, now, the alleyway they had walked down, the venue shuttered for the night. The only lights inside were deep in the back, distant. Likely everything had been packed away, or near enough. Likely the ghouls were wondering where he was. And she was small, and faith alone would not protect her.

It was too much for him. "It is very late. And I do not know if-- do you have a place to stay? This is not, I think, your home."

"I don't and it's not." She waved him off. "Was planning on just sleeping in the car. The seats fold down, I got a pillow, it's fine."

"I don't like it."

"Ain't about what you like." She dropped her head. "I apologize, that was rude."

"No, it is only--." He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "I do have a hotel room."

"No." It seemed reflexive. But he could see the split second flash of her face cracking open with sheer want. Watched her snatch her composure together just as quick, even as the afterimage lingered in his brain like the echo of a lightning strike. "No, I-- I do not think that would be a good idea."

"There is a couch, even. I could take the couch."

"Copia." Oh, and it was costing her. Painful to watch. That wretched self denial. "Please." A brittle little laugh, accent creeping back in as she forced herself to sound brighter. "I seen you bounce around that stage, you gonna need a mattress."

"Nothing you do not wish, Miss Turner. Never that," he said, as gently as he could. A breath of silence strung out in the thick air, the space of a heartbeat. "Anyways." He considered his position, took a breath, and made the leap. "It would be good to-- I would like to continue this argument. You have some time, no? Before you are-- fully committed. Come to Charleston. My guest. In the spirit of, eh, ecumenical dialogue."

That got a smile out of her. "I'll think about it."

"Please. Do."

"I will. I will think about it."

"In that case." He straightened his spine by three degrees, took the smallest step forward, and picked up her hand in both of his. Even though the gloves it made something catch behind his sternum, the stutter of some cog in engineering. He bowed over it as deeply as he ever had on stage, registered the barest breath of the smell of her, leather and nicotine and something like amber, a clean animal scent. It was only an instant, and he straightened with some regret. "I have enjoyed your company, Sophie."

"I--. Yes. Yeah. Me too." She squeezed his hand, once. "Very much. Be well, Cardinal." And then she slipped away.

He watched her carefully measured walk to her car, head held up with the dignity of the condemned. She opened her door and looked back for the space of one brief inhalation. Orpheus, he thought, nonsensically. He stared at her taillights, the red glow like eyes, the dragon's breath curl of exhaust, long after it had faded into the wide restless night.

It was another twenty minutes before one of the ghouls dragged him back inside.

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

ask me (how i'm feeling)

AO3!

Summary: Remus still makes Patton uncomfortable sometimes, but that doesn't mean he doesn't like him. Quite the opposite, actually. Warnings: none Wordcount: 814

“Hey, Patsy-doodle-dandy!��� 

Patton looked up and smiled at Remus, setting aside his coloring book.

“Hey, Remus! What’s up?”

“The vacuum of space!”

“True!” Patton had found it a lot easier to get along with Remus since he started just agreeing with what Remus said. He usually didn’t want to dwell on whatever it was, but acknowledging it and then moving on let Remus have his voice without squicking Patton out too badly. Still, though… “Far, far above us, right?”

“It could be closer if you want,” Remus suggested, waggling his eyebrows and making a lewd expression. Patton scrunched up his face — he wasn’t sure he wanted to know if Remus meant something with his expression or if he was just trying to get a rise out of Patton — but then Remus laughed and Patton found himself laughing along with him.

Remus had a variety of laughs, and Patton enjoyed all of them. Screaming cackles when he scared or disgusted someone, hearty guffaws when a joke of his landed (for him, at least, though Patton thought they sounded richer when other people were laughing too), slightly unnaturally high-pitched giggles when he was plotting something or learned something interesting, snuffly snorting honks of laughter when he was truly caught off guard — they were all wonderful. Sure, everyone else had delightful laughs too, but Remus always seemed to put his heart into laughing, always big and loud with never even a flicker of embarrassment.

“I’m alright, Remus, but thank you,” Patton told him once he’d recovered from (Remus) laughing. “Did you have something you needed me for?”

“Yepperoni!” Remus had recently taken to using words abandoned by the internet as cringe. Virgil hated it and Logan kept thinking they were new slang he had to keep up with and learn how to use. “I’ve got something to ask you, daddy-o!”

“Ask me!” Patton gave him his most encouraging smile, even though he was a little afraid of what the question would be. He wasn’t sure he could handle helping Remus with an experiment or anything similar, but he would hate to let him down…

“How do you feel about me?”

“What?”

“How do you feel about me?” Remus’s head flopped to the side, sending a glob of something flying from his hair. “Do you still hate me?”

Oh.

Well, that kind of thinking wouldn’t stand.

“Of course I don’t hate you, kiddo! You’re part of my famILY!” And he’d recently been developing some feelings that made calling Remus “kiddo” feel a bit weird. But this wasn’t the time to deal with that, he needed to reassure Remus—

“Second question! How would you feel about a date?”

“Like the fruit?” Patton immediately regretted the question. He was going to blame it on feeling absolutely blindsided by Remus’s questions (twice in less than a minute!) and also his inherent need to deflect from any feelings that didn’t align with his normal “happy pappy Patton.” (He was working on it.)

Remus gave him a pouty little frown and hummed. “Well, I suppose I could work it in if it matters to you so much. But! You. Me. Torrid romance.” There was a lot of gesturing and shoulder shimmying and dramatic eye contact accompanying the proposal. Patton would be pretty sure Remus were screwing with him, if he were the sort of person to ever lead someone on. So he probably meant it. So…

As metaphysical beings, sometimes the sides got weird side effects to Thomas’s/their own emotions and mental states. Janus got snakier when Thomas was in denial, Roman took “bruised ego” unfortunately literally, Virgil’s height sometimes fluctuated with his anxiety level. As Thomas’s heart, feelings and morality, Patton certainly wasn’t exempt from such things.

All this to say that when Patton processed that Remus was for real asking him on a date, little hearts popped into being around his head. All the colors of the rainbow, no bigger than a few inches, spawning around his face and floating up until they hit some threshold and faded away, to be replaced with new ones.

Patton didn't even mind at first, too busy turning going on a date with Remus over in his brain, but at some point embarrassment kicked in. He covered his face and the blush warming it, letting out a noise like a tea kettle. Remus chuckled, a low, fond laugh that made Patton’s insides do little flips, and grabbed Patton’s hands in his own.

“I think I could take a decent stab at it” —there was a little sparkle and then Remus was wearing tiny daggers, poked through his ears. Patton smiled at the pun and chose to believe that they were earrings, non-sharp and safe to wear— “but what do you say, darling? Want to make everyone jealous with how hot and amazing a couple we are?”

And what else could Patton say but yes?

[sleepy-shutin]

someone in the tags of a post i reblogged brought this up but now i'm thinking about it.

i am in exactly 2 CDD spaces right now, one of which is very active and i moderate in, and the other one being super quiet and small. i'm not counting my T&D server as a "CDD space".

i used to join CDD places all over the internet because i wanted. i don't really know what i was looking for, but i wanted. taking the time to realize that i didn't even know what i was looking for those spaces, especially when i could already find 90% or more of what i needed in the spaces i was already in, and especially when many system spaces are the same things in the early stages of diagnosis/treatment/syscovery over and over and over (people asking for help with the same problems, people getting just diagnosed, asking how to communicate, etc), and it just wasn't helping me.

taking the time to really figure out what you want out of system spaces--and it HAS to be more than wanting a diagnosis/someone to tell you whether or not you have DID because that kind of just doesn't work over the internet--can really help you figure out your goals.

whether or not you have DID, if you're questioning and joining a DID space, you should outline what you want out of these spaces, what information you're looking for, what you think these spaces can do to help you, OUTSIDE of directly telling you whether or not you have DID, because good spaces will refuse to do that and will not put up with people fishing for a diagnosis.

good spaces will give you information from books and papers, not carrds and tiktoks, answer your questions about DID with sources, and genuinely try to help you figure out the difference between (new) parts and weird feelings, or introjects vs. heavily relating to a character or amnesia vs. memory problems caused by other things.

if people are extremely willing to jump onto you and tell you that you have DID with little leadup to that, give you information primarily from carrds/tiktoks/twitter threads/etc, jump down the throats of people who insinuate even a little bit that someone may be mistaken about having DID (not even fakeclaiming), telling you that getting diagnosed is worthless, that DID is "too underresearched" to look for papers on, etc, then those places are displaying *red flags* for misinformation and toxicity. those spaces will not be able to help you because they can't get their heads out of their asses.

and i cannot stress this enough, younger people with CDDs *need* to talk to older people with CDDs. realize that you have hope for getting older and recovering, whether you want final fusion or healthy multiplicity. not to mention that older people with CDDs who have been in recovery and treatment for decades have an invaluable amount of advice for you if you're just starting out. PLEASE talk to older people with DID.

i'm so sick of watching people fall into awful DID spaces because they're too early on to recognize that they're being fed misinformation and toxic mindsets irt DID.

be safe y'all, it's not as easy to find a space that works for you as one might think.

[dragonmasterhiccup]

(oh my goodness my reply got deleted again help 💀 it was the beginning part but AgHHHH)

Putting her hands on her hips, she agreed with Hiccup by firmly nodding. "Yeah, we--" Suddenly interrupting herself, Freya began to actually take in what he said, her ears growing warm as she did. However, wanting to appear more 'believable' to Snotlout, who noticed her brief moment of surprise, she quickly wrapped her arm around the future Chief's while continuing; "We're inseparable, so I wouldn't mess with either of us if I were you."

Tilting her head at Hiccup, a trace of a smile formed. "I guess you're right.." Snickering at his cousin who had stumbled back because of the force of the snowball thrown at him, she flicked some snow towards her pretend boyfriend with a mischievous smirk. "It is quite fun."

Snotlout was barely recovering from the previous attack, which led him to falling right down on the ground again when Tuffnut consistently assaulted him. "H-hey!" He almost choked on bits of snow, trying to hide behind what was left of his protective barrier. "Enough with the chicken!" He ignored Blaze's rumbled out laughter, the Sand Wraith nudging Toothless with a grin as he motioned to the young viking.

'That was cute..' Fighting against the urge to say that out loud, Freya's eyes squinted teasingly, the faint amount of snow in her hair gradually falling below them while she started to get up. "If I didn't know any better, it sounds like you aren't completely opposed to that idea.." She muttered, her tone evidently sounding amused.

"I'm pretty sure we're winning--" Her words were abruptly cut off as she was, once more, grabbed by her waist and hauled in another direction, the movement happening so fast that she didn't even realize what was going on. Blinking away her shock, her eyes were met with Hiccup's staring directly at hers - although, now it was much closer than before. With her face immediately becoming increasingly red, her heart pounded and her hand ended up on his shoulder while being dragged away.

She held her breath, almost not hearing him ask if she was okay, only having the strength to mumble out, "Mhm.." as she stared at him, dumbfounded. The weird, fluttery feeling came to invade her yet again, and she was left to internally be brought into a frenzy. They were practically an eyelash of a distance from each other, allowing her to just seal the small amount of space-- 'No, no, no. Can't do that..!' Freya stopped herself from doing what her thoughts declared, murmuring out a proper response: "Are...are you okay..?"

She glared at Tuffnut, slightly glad at the same time that he snapped her out of her daze. Hiccup's apology only seemed to further her scarlet tinted face, though. "I-It's fine...you were only trying to help--"

"Aww, Freya's all shy! Would you look at that!" Snotlout jeered, chuckling to himself as he dodged another attack. The young lady he spoke of hastily stood up from her spot on the ground, snatching a handful of snowballs as she ran in the middle of the battlefield.

"Blaze!" She yelled out, the Sand Wraith unhesitatingly coming to her assistance this time and briskly shielding her with his uninjured wing as he followed his rider sprinting forward to Snotlout with a shout of her own.

That battle was sooner or later won by her and Hiccup, to say the least.

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

It felt as if Freya could finally breathe again. With the wind, at last, rushing through her hair and past the helmet she wore, everything was steadily becoming peaceful for her. Especially after heading home from Valka's dragon sanctuary. The experience of witnessing Hiccup be with his mother was something she would forever cherish.

She also got a few lessons on how to, kind of, stand on Blaze in a similar manner to what Stoick's wife did on Cloudjumper. Toothless was also able to do an interestingly new trick himself.

Freya, seeing Berk becoming near, gently patted Blaze's neck. The dragon was, thankfully, healed according to what Valka said: three days. Three, excruciatingly long three days. She was happy that they were spent alongside Hiccup when they weren't busy.

Not yet taking off her helmet, she glanced over in his direction. "What excuse are we gonna give now?" Her mind wandered off into what her father might say. It was clear Ragnar was still on edge about letting her go out after what occurred previously, based on the two daggers that now were attached to her boot instead of just one. Along with the small sword that was newly fastened on the belt around her waist.

Yeah, he definitely gave her an early Snoggletog gift.

Too busy enjoying the wind before they landed, Freya hadn't realized the newcomers on Berk, all of whom had their hands tied behind their backs as they were led by a certain patrol - which Ragnar was included in.

Hiccup couldn't ignore the return of that warm, fuzzy feeling when she wrapped her arms in his and said they were inseparable. The corners of his lips tugged upwards in a smile as he nodded to conf Freya's statement.

Tuffnut gasped in offense. "I will not have you insult dear chicken! Ruffnut, ATTACK!" The twins now sent a volley of snowballs at Snotlout, before Ruffnut nudged her brother.

"Hey! We have more than one enemy here! We can divide and conquer!" Ruffnut turned to throw snowballs at Hiccup and Freya, while Tuffnut continued to go after Snotlout.

Hiccup fought the blush that was forming on his cheeks. "You just--you caught me off guard, is all..."

He stared back at her, feeling almost as surprised as she looked.

Was she--was she leaning in further? His breath caught as he tilted his head ever so slightly, only to catch himself as well, and they both back off each other around the same time. "Me? Y-yeah, I'm--I'm fine, just dandy, heh. Uh...we--we should get back to it, yeah?"

Hiccup faced his cousin, giving him a frustrated look, groaning. "Do you just never think before you speak?!" As he spoke, he hurled two snowballs straight at his cousin, hitting him in the face both times.

"Freya? What are you doing? Wait!" Oh, she was going after Snotlout. Grabbing more pre made snowballs, he chased after her. "I'm right behind you!"

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

Hiccup wasn't sure what to think.

Sure, he did have a great day with his mom, and Freya too, but some things were weighing too heavily on his mind.

Valka had pulled him aside, asking if he and Freya were a couple. He did say yes, because technically they were, but it wasn't real. It was also somewhat difficult to lie to his mother, even if she was back in his life only recently.

At Freya's question, he shrugged. "We didn't stray too far. I guess we could say we just flew most of the day, just stopping to let the dragons rest on a sea stack for a couple hours?" More lies.

This was starting to take a bit of a toll.

While Freya hadn't noticed, Hiccup did. His eyes narrowed before he pointed out the crowd on their island. "See that? You don't think there were intruders while we were out, do you?"

"My dad should be there..." Speaking of, Stoick stepped out from behind a rock formation that had blocked him, arms crossed as he looked over their prisoners. "We should land nearby, ask him what's going on..."

[insanityisdivine]

Get to Know Me and My Obsession with KISS 🎸

Thanks for the tag @starry-eyed-never-satisfied

1. Who is your favourite member?

Okay. Paul is my first love but sexy Ace is competing with him but god I have to say Paul.

2. Who is your least favourite member?

Everyone saying Mark. I know nothing bout him

3. Best album?

RARO ...I'm assuming studio albums and live albums don't count???

4. Worst album?

I didn't listen to their last two albums and have no intention to do so ATM

5. Favourite song?

THIS IS TOO HARD TO CHOOSE. Guess I gotta say Love Gun Though But I love C'mon and Love Me!

6. Say one nice thing about each member.

Paul- He's the STAR of KISS. I probably wouldn't have gotten into KISS if it weren't for him. Everything I adore and want to be

Gene- I wanna listen to him talk while we share milk and chocolate chip cookies together

Peter- I have a soft spot for him. I think he can be really sweet and cute

Ace- Sexy, trashy, baby girl, sexy girl in hooker boots. Wanna bend over and smack that ass. He and Paul are my bisexual fantasies. BUT SERIOUSLY, The first guitar player that made me go WOW. Never got the hype about lead guitarists before but then I was thinking of 80s rock and 80's rock solos never resonated with me. His solos are iconic, not just shredding/mindless noodling. As someone who never learned how to read music, I think it's amazing he influenced many to learn. I'd love to learn how to play. Not to be in a band but I've always wanted to play a guitar. Also, I'd love to hang out with him. He's funny and bright. I think there's softness to him and I'd like to believe (coming from a fan, of course) that he's a good person. He also reminds me of my ex early 90s era....so I guess I have a soft spot for him

Eric C- I wish I could meet him. If I had to pick one member I could meet it would be him because I know he'd be super sweet

Vinnie- talented songwriter and amazing voice. Gorgeous

Mark- He did his job on Animalize

Bruce- Super sweet. He was the cutie of the group during revenge era ngl. Paul had competition.

Eric S- Seems really funny. got a nice tight body. seems every KISS drummer has a nice bod.

Tommy- Loyal and hard working. I can see why KISS kept him. Honestly he'd the kind of guy you want in your group.

7. What do you dislike about each member?

Gene- Condescending. I can see he has some views on things that I'd butt heads with him on

Paul- Overly critical of others, may come across cold. He scares me. y'all see his posts for new years???? He can come across very hurtful in his choice of words

Peter- Bitter (in the past it seems) and tbh some of the shit I read and heard that unfortunately was allowed to slide (sometimes even passed off as "funny" stories). It's a sensitive topic for me.

Ace- like Peter, awful things said and done that cannot be solely blamed on addiction which I'm very glad he recovered from btw. I'm honestly glad I never put this man on a pedestal and it's not just because "he's human like the rest of us". lol I love him but I'm glad I've been exposed to the bad early on this obsession so I don't have any unrealistic ideas about ppl, you know? I think I need to sleep with him to sort out these feelings lol

Eric C- I don't know that much to comment and feels almost unfair because he was taken away from us much too soon

Vinnie- stop scamming people omg. the insanity and charging ppl for memberships and you haven't released shit???

Mark- don't know about him. can't comment

Bruce- Maybe too nice for his own good.

Eric S- I don't know. Should have created a sex tape with Gene

Tommy- Kinda weird seeing him try to mimic Ace's facial expressions. One thing to imitate solos and his space persona but his mannerisms? I dunno just weird to see someone mimic what Ace's face naturally does? Kissy pouty lips only work for Ace

8. How did you get into KISS?

years ago, just bombarded with their imagery and sound on TV shows

9. Have you been to a concert?

Their last show. Crushing, I know

10. Do you have any merch?

I have a shirt

11. Unique thing you have related to KISS?

None, sadly. Like I have nothing solid if that's what you mean. anything that may have in common? sure but feels too personal to share here

12. Who is/are your favourite lineup?

This is hard because early 90s KISS was TIGHT. but I'll always love the original 4, but sweet Foxy and Brucie is so precious

13. What's your favourite era?

FUCCKKK....see this is hard. I have a big soft spot for Dynasty/Unmasked but I also love DTK and HTH

14. What are your opinions on Tommy and Eric?

They did their job. If they hadn't stepped in I wouldn't have seen KISS final show and for that I am grateful. I enjoyed their participation.

15. A question you would ask the band if you could?

I'd ask if I could suck their dick. That's tough. What haven't they've been asked before? Honestly I got some questions for Ace that's been bugging me and I know I'd never get them answered unless I knew him personally and had a real heart-to-heart conversion. I dunno I can only go off from a fan's perspective about how that'll go

16. What other bands/artists are you into?

Led Zeppelin, Madonna, Kylie Minogue, Lady Gaga, Stromae, used to really like Adam Ant, The Sweet, OLP, Franz Ferdinand, Daft Punk. I listen to all kinds of genres and artists so I like what I like

17. Do you have a KISSona?

Don't have one. I'm assuming like a fursona? lol

18. Who are some of your favourite blogs?

@ladyshandioftheendless @elrohare @silverstarfoxx (thank you for tolerating all my pestering! never hesitate to reach out to me for more Ace goodies!) @notpaulsguitar @ohblackdiamond (though tbh I swear you have answered this lol) @space-frehley-22 @spacefoxy (resident eric carr connoisseur) @speckster (you have crazy ass edits) and same goes for @bangbangyou love your funny memes. the IP address as a response always gets me lol @starry-eyed-never-satisfied (you already did this but adding you here anyway fellow Paulie enjoyer!) There's many more I wish I could just mass tag KISS blogs lol. There are blogs that are no longer active but I am glad they are still around

19. If you could spend a day with one member who would it be?

Hard because I love Paul but he scares me. I think I'd need more than a day to get comfortable with him. I'd love to spend a day with Eric C or Bruce because they seem the nicest. Maybe I'd love to hang with Peter now. Gene, may be fun. He's a good talker. Though it be fun to get one-on-one time with Ace. I'd love a tour of all his tech and then we can compare and just geek out on technology.

20. How would you explain the band to someone who isn't familiar with KISS?

I don't know. Honestly the other people who answered this already gave greats explanations. So many pass judgment on them without giving them a chance. They're a one-of-a-kind experience. There will never be a band like them.

[blackcatruse]

𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞𝔰𝔥𝔢𝔰

«prev. ❃ next» ❃ first chapter ❃ m.list ❃ ao3 pairing: r. haitani/fem!reader ↳ she/her, fem descriptors, nickname ❃ chapter synopsis: i don't need friends, they disappoint me. but wouldn't it be nice to have someone to depend on during the chaos of now? word count: 2.5k chapter cw(s): swearing, possible ooc, implied/mentioned abuse a/n: i love writing the Four Symbols. they're all horrible people :) also sorry for the overload of OCs i'm just yeeting in there, but i guess that happens when you make up a gang.

“Hey, are you with me? Lotus?”

You felt a flick to your forehead and blinked, focusing on the person sitting across from you. You couldn’t hide that you’d been spacier than usual, your brain was a blender, swirling and liquefying all your thoughts. Between the job with Rokuhara and the announcement Suzaku had made at the division meeting and the fact that Genbu asked for you made your barely recovered head spin even more.

You lightly shook your head. “Sorry, just thinking about stuff.”

Nezumi leaned on the table with his chin in his hand. “Clearly, but honestly I don’t blame you. You’ve kind of been through a lot lately.”

“Something like that,” you laughed weakly. “I’m sorry you’re stuck babysitting me.”

“It’s not a big deal. Suzaku said runners were required to work in pairs for the foreseeable future, and honestly, I don’t mind being paired with the best.” Nezumi flashed a genuine smile and you didn’t know how to respond.

Nobody in your division liked you, or at least that’s what you figured based on the stares and whispers. You didn’t let it get to you and you played into the unlikeable persona because people would leave you alone. Unfortunately, after the incident that left you with a concussion, Suzaku declared that no runner was allowed to do a job alone. Top runners had priority, so it would be you, Nezumi, Shika, and probably-Hato. The four of you naturally gravitated towards each other and decided you’d pair up that way. It was going to be inconvenient though.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you mumbled, pushing your food around your plate.

Nezumi sighed. “You’re weird,” he said. “But you’re not as bad as you make yourself out to be.”

“But I’m still some degree of bad,” you said, accenting your words with a jab of your fork in his direction.

“We all are,” Nezumi pointed out. “None of us are exactly doing clean work. Anyway, stop being so grumpy. You need friends.”

“And you’re offering?” You raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were just supposed to be discussing our usual jobs and how to make things work with our schedules.”

“Stop dodging the question,” Nezumi said, on the verge of whining. “But yeah, we do need to work out when our runs are happening and any other jobs Suzaku gives us.”

“I make my weekly runs to Kabukicho on Sunday,” you told him. “There’s no set time, except for the guy that owns Byakko’s space. Gotta get to him before 5pm.”

“Noted. I run Ōtemachi and Marunouchi on Wednesdays and Fridays. Both during the day, preferably in the morning.”

You nodded, mapping out the locations in your mind. “I can’t say I’m fond of any time before noon, but I’d rather not get my face beat in again. Either by Suzaku or the other guys.”

Nezumi’s face twisted into something uncomfortable. He rubbed his temples. “Can you have a normal conversation with anyone?”

“Nope!” You grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Right,” Nezumi said flatly. “Charm.”

“I’m sensing sarcasm from you.”

“Hmm, I’ll try harder to mask it next time. Anyway, what’s your current burner number? It would be best if we can get into contact outside of division meetings.” Nezumi held out his own burner phone.

“Huh? Oh yeah sure.” You took it from his hand and punched in the number you had just memorized. It would be changed by the end of the month, since it made it a little harder for the cops to sniff out Wuxing’s trail.

Adding a little ‘<3’ to the end of your contact name, you finally handed the phone back to Nezumi. He looked at it, sighed, and looked at you with dull eyes. You just waved like nothing had transpired. He shook his head and stood. “I’ll get in touch soon,” he promised. He gave you a lazy wave before heading out and you put your head down on the table.

It was going to be a little harder to traipse around with the Haitanis like this, but you’d figure it out. Right now you had more pressing problems, like why the hell Genbu needed to see you. You did your part of the operation and you weren’t important enough to be part of the circle that knew. 

You couldn’t even think about why these people were so obsessed with you. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, remarkable about you. You spent the first thirteen years of your life raised in an area where nobody would care if you or your family disappeared. Your father wasn’t in the picture. You didn’t know who he was and your mother refused to talk about him. You quickly learned to stop asking about him when she threw a ceramic tea cup at your head. The memories of your mother were fairly fuzzy, thanks to the years working for Wuxing that shaved time from your lifespan. You remembered the day you found your mother dead, and it was something that you could never forget. You didn’t think you ever could.

Of course, after your mother’s death, your brother spiraled deeper and deeper into gambling. He lost his job. He spent all day most days drunk and wasted instead of sober. You were still too young to get a part-time job, but you were certain that your brother would burn any money you brought in.

You were able to keep you and your brother afloat because sometimes he would come home from gambling with cold hard cash. You’d take some from him when he finally blacked out. He never remembered how much he won, so as long as you left something, you could at least get groceries and pay rent and bills. Even when he caught you and beat you within an inch of your life, you still kept stealing from him. You weren’t going to let yourself be thrown onto the streets. Trying times made you consider learning to pickpocket, but before that could come to a head, Wuxing came knocking.

At that point, you weren’t even sure you were human anymore. You had lost weight. You were covered with bruises that could easily be hidden under school uniforms. Anyone who saw you turned a blind eye, because it wasn’t their business what happened in your home. You hated every second of it, and it all culminated when your brother sold you in an attempt to ease his debts. Your brother’s blood was still warm on your face when Genbu’s men grabbed you. They whispered terrible things in your ear, telling you in explicit detail how they planned to make you pay “your” debt.

Your first few years with Wuxing were something you wished you could scrub from your mind. Yet, you would never be clean of the things done to you and what you had done. Even now you felt like there was a disconnect between you and your body. Just a permanent state of detachment that would rear its head if you weren’t cracking jokes or making a conscious effort.

Fuck, you had to get your shit together before you went to Genbu. Throwing a wad of yen on the table, you stood and headed out. Everything around you was a blur as you made your way to the abandoned police station where Genbu did his business.

There was a specific knock you were supposed to use, but you couldn’t be bothered to remember it. You popped a stick of gum in your mouth before loudly banging on the door and yelling. It had the same effect of getting attention and before you could even strike the door a third time, a disgruntled looking Genbu had opened the door.

“You tryna make trouble?” he grunted.

Your smile was devilishly saccharine. “It’s what I do best.”

Genbu snorted before stepping back and letting you walk in. You hadn’t been to this part of Wuxing’s domain. Each of the Four Symbols had their own regions where they conducted business and very rarely did these overlap. You were one of the few that had seen Seiryu’s underground fighting ring and Byakko’s brothels. Now having visited Genbu’s hideout, you were familiar with each of the Four Symbols’ kingdoms. Probably one of the only lower status members, now that you thought about it.

Wuxing’s upper echelons may spit on you, but even they couldn’t argue that you weren’t good at what you do.

“What couldn’t wait until the big meeting that made you call for me now?” you asked as Genbu closed the door.

“Whoever we caught,” Genbu started, “they know who you are.”

You stared at Genbu. “Yeah, I’m Suzaku’s Lot—”

“No, they know your real name.”

What?

What?

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said, stumbling over your words. You couldn’t hide how shaken you were. Any mention of who you were before sent you into a horrifying spiral. “Nobody should know who I am.”

“That’s what we thought too,” Genbu said.

“We?”

“Follow me.” Genbu didn’t wait for a response before he started walking away. You jogged a little to catch up with him and he walked into a room. Stepping inside you saw Suzaku, Byakko, and Seiryu. Your eyes quickly scanned the room for any sign that you were going to be murdered, but they stopped when they landed on the one way mirror to the adjacent room.

There were four men, each handcuffed to a chair and displaying a variety of bruises and bloodied faces.

“What the hell?” you asked, voice barely a whisper.

“They haven’t given us any useful information,” Genbu said. “But they know who you are, who your mother was, and who your brother was. When we asked further, they said nothing. Just laughed. Said they’d only talk if it was to  you.”

Fuck, it was exactly like the guy you and Rindou had run into. Almost as if they could tell you were staring at them, their heads snapped up and they looked straight at you. Even the Four Symbols stiffened at the sudden movement.

“Did you bring her?” the one third from the right asked. Maybe he was the leader? He sounded familiar, like the one you had met in that warehouse.

They had been locked up here so long you doubted they were high, unless Genbu drugged them during the interrogation. But the unnerving smiles they wore... This was too much for you.

Genbu moved forward and spoke into an old microphone on the desk. “She’s here.”

“No, let her speak.”

Genbu stepped away and motioned you to come forward. You weren’t entirely sure what to say, but you knew you were close to snapping. “I’m here. What do you want?”

You prayed they didn’t hear the waver of your voice, but if they did they gave no indication. “Do you remember your mother?” the leader asked, using your real name.

You shuddered. “Not really,” you lied.

“I see,” he hummed. “Do you know anything about your family?”

Even though they couldn’t see it, you shrugged. “Just that my sperm donor was a deadbeat, Mom hated when we asked about him, and my brother was a bastard.”

That got a chuckle out of the four men in the interrogation room.

“Would you like to know?”

“What?” Your blood froze. Behind you the Four Symbols exchanged confused glances.

“Everything you need to know,” the man said. “You will learn if you—”

“I’m not interested.”

The man frowned. Was he expecting you to give a shit about the people who made your life go from worse to absolute hell? All you cared about was getting out of Wuxing, maybe even the country, and never coming back.

“Just seems like a lot of trouble,” you drawled. “I don’t particularly care about my family history.”

“Are you loyal to Wuxing? Did he convince you to join them?”

You didn’t ask for clarification because if they knew who you were, then surely they knew your brother got you into this mess. “Something like that,” you said, keeping the answer neutral. The last thing you wanted was any of the Four Symbols to think you were betraying them. Well, you supposed your record wasn’t exactly clean in that aspect, but it didn’t include these sorry bastards in front of you.

“That is unfortunate,” the man hummed. “Well, if you ever want answers, consider seeking Nirvana.”

You looked back at Suzaku and Genbu, avoiding eye contact with Byakko and ignoring Seiryu. They were blank faced and likely as confused as you were. Genbu stepped forward and pulled you away from the mic. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “Who are you people? How do you know these—”

Suzaku jerked Genbu back and the man’s words were cut off. Then, like a switch was flipped, the captives dropped their heads and refused to answer any more questions or demands. You were confused to start with, but now it was even worse. You weren’t anyone of importance. You knew you weren’t.

It seemed like the Four Symbols had an idea of what was going on, but they weren’t going to tell you. Rarely did you ever need to know what was happening, and truthfully you didn’t want to. The less you knew about the situation the better.

Ignorance was bliss and you refused to let go of that. “I don’t know what the hell they want from me,” you said. There wasn’t anything defensive about your tone, just confusion and fear.

Genbu ran a hand down his face. “Yeah, we gathered that.” He sighed. “We’re going to have to report this to Kirin.”

You could almost feel the collective groan they didn’t let out. So they hated reporting to their boss too. You would almost feel sympathy if you hadn’t been tormented by every single one of them.

“You’re not coming,” Suzaku said immediately.

“Huh?!” You were genuinely taken aback at how quickly Suzaku snapped that out. “I didn’t say anything and I don’t want to!”

“That’s a first,” Byakko snorted.

You wanted to turn around and snarl at him but you didn’t. “I don’t want to be tangled up in this shit any more than I have to. I don’t know a goddamn thing about what they were saying. I’m not important. You all know this! The only reason you haven’t killed me yet is because of my stupid brother’s debt and because I’m maybe a good runner.”

You didn’t want to break down in front of the Four Symbols, but they said nothing as tears streamed down your face. If they were kinder, they would have taken pity on your confusion and anxiety, but they didn’t care. They had seen enough that you breaking down wasn’t going to faze them.

“Seiryu, take Lotus home,” Suzaku ordered. “I’m going to get in touch with Kirin and figure out what we’re going to do next. Genbu, keep digging for information. Byakko, keep an eye out in your territory.” Suzaku looked you in your stinging, teary eyes, “And Lotus, you don’t fucking go anywhere alone.”

Please do not reupload, translate, or steal my work! If it isn't here or on my ao3, it's not me! Likes & reblogs appreciated! <3 Dividers courtesy of @/cafekitsune & @/firefly-graphics

[comfreyhollywings]

it's kind of like scrolling back into the beginning where you've first formed a post.  it's a little bit like, say, tumblr. you've been scrolling through tumblr the past few days—quotev too to see what your past self has said to you. to see what she has written. there were so many gold mines, so many things that's been written down on a website that'll may be lost media some day. it hasn't gone past you to archive it to a certain point, but you know that it takes on work. work that you don't quite have the energy for today. 

mentally, i am scattered. i'm not in a space where i can read lines in order. the words have become scattered, ink blurred. it's like when you stare at a book or a screen for too long, it begins to deteriorate you. it's been deteriorating my voice. i can literally feel my voice regressing even to this day. it sucks, because when i've been looking for work, this was not what i had in mind. i thought it'd help me in my communication skills. to an extent, it has—but not in the way in which i pictured it. 

i never thought three hours every day mon-fri would tire me out. i never thought that i'd have the bare minimum of interaction with my coworkers while i'm stuck; isolated away from everyone but my client. i never thought i'd have to focus on the external world so much about gaining my financial independence while simultaneously helping mom pay the bills. i never thought i'd fret about my experience with my boyfriend keeping in mind the age gap we have. my friends keep DMing me on instagram. i still livestream a lot through an organized process. my dad was in the hospital but he recovered... so that's good.

in hindsight, my mental spoons aren't the greatest. it doesn't seem like it's been pushing me up. or maybe, in a weird sense, it is? maybe i need to just.. grow through it? and get used to this? i'm not sure yet. i'm still discovering things out. 

regardless of what's happened, i'm writing. i keep finding my fingers scattered all over the keyboard, just waiting and typing and staring at all the words. the grammar in this isn't the best. i'm still not quite mentally up to date yet. things keep changing and there's little stuff like social media that keeps flitting from day to day. no permanence. 

i'm not used to this. i'm used to taking things slow one step at a time. 

i received a reading before this—in which i was supposed to find a career that stokes my inner flame, not dampen it. i'm supposed to get something that'll stray away from the expectations put on me; to find something i like. that it's okay to strive away from people's expectations. i'm told to give myself grace for the things that's been happening. to slow down, nurture, take care of myself. 

so i've been trying, you know. i've been trying really hard. obviously i know, that in order to find things that you don't like, you have to start experiencing life first. naturally, it's a hard process. to go out there and actually gain it. i'm not a huge executor in the first place, but i know it's needed.

but again, it's like a bad internet novel. almost too good to be true. almost. where everyone started to remember that they could be happy, including me. even with the amount of work and the directionless thoughts i have; they're all just potential to start up something new again. i can find things that make me happy from the inside out. i can just.. accept and align with it.  

everything that had helped me survive in the past was reptilian skin. this is shed in light of a new circumstances; a new reality.

this side of mines that held such sharp, defensive tension. sneaky and eyeing from the shadows. always willing to be in the background because that was the only thing i knew. treading around mistakes carefully, banging my head against walls after seeing one slight imperfection. i feel restless, crawling out of my skin sometimes because i constantly feel like i'm not where i'm supposed to be. like i feel bad just for existing even though i've never interacted, not even once. 

but maybe this. this, the fear and confusion, is the thing that can be wrong.

things can be easy. if i let it.  

[imbonewary]

Shifting Sans Chapter 6 "Oh Brother"

~

Chapter 1 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 7

~

"i see now why you called me," said "Sans" slowly as he finally broke eye contact to look at me appraisingly. "heya, kiddo."

I gasped a deep breath, finally released from his gaze, and swallowed hard. I really wasn't ready for this. I could only register that he was wearing a lot of purple as he very slowly walked around the chairs until he was standing in front of me; telegraphing his movements, obviously trying to not spook me.

Too late for that.

I leaned back, away from him, trapping the wings behind me, against the couch cushion. I'd almost forgotten about them. The overstimulation was very much not helping my mental state. He knelt down.

"my name is sans," he said quietly, calmly. I was too overwhelmed to feel much from him but his kindness and warmth were clear enough on his face. He held out his hand. "don't you know how to greet a new pal?"

I couldn't move. I couldn't breath. All I could do was stare into his too-familiar face. Holy fuck this is so weird.

My hand twitched towards him. I knew what was coming and I couldn't leave him hanging, but it took all of my willpower to move my hand over to his. He held it gently before we both squeezed at the same time, releasing a pair of loud fart sounds. We both snickered as the previous tension blew away with the passing wind. At least the time-space continuum didn't implode as soon as counterparts touched. That's nice.

"O-oh my g-god, Sans," Alphys recovered first. "You're such a ch-child!"

"Nah," I responded with a wink, my smile real for the first time tonight. "The ol' woopie cushion in the hand trick is always funny."

"blew me away," Sans agreed with a grin.

"I'm pretty good a winging it."

"so," Sans said with a chuckle. "what do you call yourself, buddy?"

"Well, I've been calling myself "Sans" but that's not really gonna fly so..." I paused. "Call me Serif."

I could see Metta's smirk over Sans' shoulder. I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out at him.

"well then, serif," he continued as he stood, pulling me up with him. He was about a head taller than me. "as curious as i am about you, i assume you've had a long enough evening already. the kid just took over my spare bedroom so the couch will have to do until we move my office out of the other one. that is, of course, if you're ok with that..."

I could feel his fragile hope, could see it plainly in his face as he looked away awkwardly, free hand on the back of his head. He hadn't let go of my hand and something in me really didn't want him to. I felt... safe? Like my magic recognized him as "me" and clung to the familiarity; two water droplets that finally connected. Honestly, there wasn't even a question.

"I think I'd like that," I said, looking up at him with a smile. He pulled me into a hug, chin barely reaching the top of my head as I was surrounded by a happy calm, and the tension of fear and confusion finally melted away with a sigh as I hugged him back. Such an intense feeling of belonging.

"heh, i always wanted a little brother..."

I'm home.

What a weird feeling.

I squeezed him tighter for a moment before reluctantly pulling away. We could hug more later. If he wanted to. I guess. I wasn't a huge fan of physical intimacy so that thought seems weird for a person I've only just met but I feel like I already know him intimately anyways. I'll think about it more later.

"I didn't come here with more than the clothes on my back," I said, having gone back to holding his hand. "So we can go whenever you're ready, I guess."

“i would've liked to see papyrus but i guess the discussion was too much for him," Sans said, looking up the stairs, disappointed. He turned to Tori and Metta. "would you two like a quick shortcut home or are you alright on your own?"

"A shortcut would be lovely, darling," Metta replied. "But you can just drop me off with Tori, I want to go over what we learned here while it's still fresh."

"sounds good," Sans replied with a nod before looking to me. "i'll be right back, bro, i promise."

My smile fell slightly as I nodded and reluctantly let go only to freeze when he kissed my forehead with a clack, face flushed the bright blue of my magic that I could almost see glowing in my peripherals. With a "schwip" sound, a sphere of light formed around Sans, Matta, and Tori, before it shrank into nothing and they were gone. I guess his "shortcuts" work differently than mine, which were more like portals or doorways. I must've been too distracted to hear their farewells to Alphys, who then turned to me.

"I g-guess that's that then," she said.

"Yeah..." I trailed off before shaking my head. "I never really got to thank you properly for saving my life before, so uh, thanks, Alphys, for not leaving me out to die in the elements, heh. And uh, tell Papyrus thanks for me too, and sorry for being a bit of a pain through all of this."

"D-don't sweat it," she smiled, waving away the need for an apology. "You've obviously b-been through a lot. Oh, and you h-had some slippers on when we f-found you, did you see them in the d-dryer?"

"I didn't look too closely," I admitted. "Had other things on my mind."

"I'll g-go find them," she offered, heading for the bathroom under the stairs. "Hopefully they didn't w-warp with the heat or anything..."

A ball of light expanded in the middle of the room with the opposite sound, more like a "pwish" as the light faded, and Sans was back. We both immediately reached for the others' hand. I blushed again with a nervous chuckle, looking away and scratching my cheek; hopefully I wasn't coming across as too needy. I'd always been the older brother before, never had one. It was nice. 

Something tells me I'm gonna have a lot of new experiences.

"F-found 'em," I was suddenly called back to the present as Alphys held out a pair of dingy slippers that had probably been white at some point.

"Right, thanks," I took them with my free hand, looking back up at Sans. "I'm ready."

Sans nodded.

"thanks for everything, al, and tell paps i missed seeing him."

"Will do," Alphys waved. "H-have a good night Sans, Serif.”

SCHWIP

LIGHT

PWISH

I blinked.

Well that was an interesting experience. Definitely different than my own shortcuts. Wait, with my changed magic, would my shortcuts have changed too? Can I even do shortcuts still? I didn't even think about what existing magic might've been altered with the-

I was pulled out of my spiral into a tight hug, steady arms wrapped around me protectively.

"i don't pretend to know what you've gone through," Sans breathed. "and you don't have to tell me until you're ready. but as long as you're with me i promise i won't let anything like that happen to you ever again, little brother."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I returned the hug, burying my face in his neck. Don't make promises you can't keep. How could you possibly combat the resets if they're still happening? I wanted to believe him though. I wanted so badly to bask in the safety he offered, the feeling of home. Papyrus had been my only home for so long...

My breath hitched as I clung tighter. There was still a lot to do, a lot to check, but I could think about it later. Just a bit longer.

I can indulge in being happy for a minute, right?

...

Who am I kidding, I'm not that lucky.

I pulled away.

"I'm really tired," I said, still holding his hand. "Where's that couch you promised?"

"over there," he led me to the front room. "i'll get you a blanket."

I could feel Sans' disappointment as he walked away, finally dropping my hand; he really hadn't wanted to let go and was probably more used to indulging in happiness than I was. I mean, I was disappointed too but still...

I sat down on the old brown couch and traded my slippers for one of the pea green throw pillows, wondering how I was gonna lay down with my new wings when Sans came back. He unfolded a pretty blue blanket, gesturing for me to lay down but I hesitated, looking away and hugging the pillow tighter.

"I..." how selfish am I gonna be tonight? "I don't... wanna be alone... with my thoughts..."

With a warm smile and an almost giddy spike of happiness, Sans draped the blanket over one arm and sat next to me, then put an arm around my waist and pulled me close into his side. I blushed but didn't resist, strangely craving the physical comfort. Sans offered one corner of the blanket to me and I helped him pull it over us both as I snuggled into his side, resting my cheek against his chest. I tried to angle myself slightly for the wings but not even their hypersensitivity could keep me awake. I was too tired to find a better position. I guess hopping universes and nearly freezing to death will do that to a guy.

"If anyone asks," my voice slurred as I nuzzled unto him. "You can tell them I'm your clone. I heard about the barrier and decided now was a good time to come forward." I was drifting off already. "'s more complicated than that but that's the story we're going with."

I barely heard his "good night" as I slipped into oblivion.

[cantbelieveyouregone]

My brain has been whirling with vague self-reflective stuff for the past like three days - partially because it's the end of the year, partially brought on by reading a bunch of Danganronpa and The Sexy Brutale fanfic for some reason (that is, it making me think for some reason, not me reading it for some reason; I'm not ashamed of that). Don't really have anywhere to put the thoughts, but they won't shut up, so I'm putting them here.

It's been a weird year. It's been one year that's felt like three. Partially that's because it was my last year of uni, which was a bit of a shitshow at various points. Spent a good deal of this academic year recovering from nearly burning out just to survive third year, after top surgery stitching came partially out on one side of my chest but I still had to do all my uni work. I don't recommend doing four university modules and a part-time teaching assistant job at once while you have a literal hole in your chest, folks. And then my honours project was full force from the get-go, brought on by me being a perfectionist and feeling an obligation to prove to the uni and to myself that I wasn't burnt out. By the end of uni, I was basically just a pile of ashes atop an 18k-word dissertation.

Then I dealt with the wildest shit of trying to get an industry job. Recruiters tried their best, but they all just kind of tugged their collars and averted their eyes when I said I'd prefer to stay local or work remote. But one of my friends already got a job at a game company and had been there part-time, going full-time once uni was over, and he knew I was looking, so he referred me. Long-story-short, I got the job - getting the call about it on my birthday, no less - and moved out of my parents' place and into a flat with said friend.

If my impostor syndrome was strong before I had a job, it's only gotten worse since I started working. I've described it as feeling like I'm just learning the alphabet while my coworkers discover new areas of calculus. "Gotten really into the letter X lately, you should try it sometime." It's just not even felt real, like I'm gonna wake up and be collapsed on my computer desk with my dissertation filled with spaces from where my head found itself falling on the keyboard.

I have not figured out how to balance work and life yet. Not by a long shot. I want to take up both physical and creative hobbies, but I'm also someone who needs a lot of down time or his brain holds itself at gunpoint, ready to explode. As I once wrote in a rambling note to myself, "I want to scream and cry and paint and write and fight and punch and create art from the bones of my own that I break let the blood be the ink so you know that I feel." I have so much love in my heart for the things I do, but fuck if I ever have the energy to do them. Maybe I'll get better at figuring it out next year, but I'm sure not there yet.

There isn't any real satisfying conclusion to this rant. I've not written songs or stories in who knows how long, I want to pick up a pencil or a paintbrush again, I want to create and feel the release of pressure from my skull before it implodes. But I'm not really willing to talk to many people in real life about this endless irritation, like an itch which has proven impossible to scratch. Asking for advice requires asking, and there's still a lot of my teenage instinct to hide any sign of suffering - no matter how little or how mundane - until I physically can't anymore. Which I guess goes to show how it's going when I'm writing this, huh?

I guess I'll just finish the rant with yet another clip of writing from a ramble in my phone's notes, which I wrote over two years ago but has kept ringing in my ears every day since.

Inertia is my nemesis. If I could get started, I could keep started, I could get going, I could keep going.

Here I lie.

To myself? Or did I just stop moving?

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The Right Time

Summary: Taking place after Tony's funeral, your sister Natasha's recovered belongings need to be placed somewhere. You will take them home to Ohio, and a certain little witch will keep you company on the trip there.

Warnings: (+16), angst with happy ending, many mentions of trauma and death, domesticity and road trips, mutual pinning and buried feelings, friends to lovers, kissing, make out without smut, brief talking about self value, a closure to Yelena (also, she's Kate's age in this, 'cause I make the rules). || Words: 12.527

All Works Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad ||

--//--

There was an insistent hissing in your ear.

You knew it was anxiety - all the others sounds muffled as your hands moved - but that didn't stop it from happening. Two boxes later, you realized you were shaking.

Control your emotions. They make you weak and vulnerable.

Breathe in and out.

The trembling didn't stop, but the boxes did. A gentle tap on your shoulder almost made you jump with fright, your heart racing in your rib cage. But when you looked to the side, green orbs came into focus, and all the sounds came back.

"Everything all right? I've called you a few times." Wanda's tone was gentle, she was always gentle. Well, not really, you remember her being snarky and moody, but that doesn't make the fact that she was always kind any less true. She offers you a small smile, looking tired. She probably is, it's all so recent. The battle, the funeral. You swallow dryly and force a smile too.

"Sorry." You say wiping the little bit of dust from the boxes on your own clothes. "I was spacing out. Do you need anything?"

Wanda twiddled her fingers, shaking her head. "Just checking. Are you going already?"

Your instinct is to glance at your wristwatch, and you frown slightly as you do so. "Not really." You reply. " Wanna grab a drink?"

Wanda's smile returns, and she nods in the affirmative, making you smile as well. You close the trunk, the boxes are all inside now. The folks are leaving the ceremony, and you have agreed to say a decent goodbye to everyone before you travel. Natasha would be happy with the cordiality.

Clint wanted to join you, but you insisted that after everything that had happened, he needed to be with his family. There was much to be done, and he understood that it was your time to be with yours too. Saying goodbye to little Morgan was honestly heartbreaking. She grabbed your neck, and you carried her across the yard, humming a song until she decided she was going to join Happy for hamburgers.

Wanda wanted an iced drink. It was surprising because it is autumn, but she never had trouble really surprise you, even in the little things. You finished saying your goodbyes and got the car.

"Have you talked to him yet?" is your third question since you sat side by side, she with her legs bent on the seat and you with one of your arms resting on the window. The first question was about the weather, the other more of a confirmation of how things were going. Wanda took her eyes off the highway - Of course, Tony had to live so isolatedly, and to get a simple drink you had to make a trip to the nearest town - and looked at you.

"Who?" you gave her a look, and she knew, sighing slightly. You looked away again. "I did."

"And how was it?"

"Weird." She answered lightly enough to make you chuckle. She smiled. "But it was good, it was... important to put a close to it."

You hum, looking down the road. Wanda realizes there is more to your silence, and insists, "What is it?"

This time you let a larger chuckle escape. Five years and she still reads you like a book.

"Nothing, it's just..." You begin, trying to find the right words. You sigh softly before speaking again. "I guess it was weird before."

Wanda lets a sound escape - something like a grunt of false offense - and gives you a gentle pat on the shoulder, which only widens your smile. She is smiling, too.

"Don't be mean!" She says good-naturedly. 

"What? I'm not lying." You insist in the same tone, and she giggles, settling herself against the window.

There is a pause, she lets her fingers tug at some loose threads from the seat, and you run through a green light.

"We weren't together anymore, you know that?" She declares to the surroundings after that moment - the bass music from the rock radio suddenly departs from your ears like the air from your lungs, but you only exhale, once and twice. - You make a gentle turn with the steering wheel to enter the city and just mumble in signaling that you are still listening. Wanda looks out over the landscape. "I don't think we'd work out anyway. With or without the stone."

You swallow dryly, nodding and meeting her gaze through the rearview mirror before swerving. The drive is close by warns the GPS.

"But how was it?" you repeat the question then, and Wanda smiles at her reflection in the corner mirror. She looks at you, but you are looking at the small line of cars ahead. 

"It was good, I promise." She says. "He explained to me all the technical part of the thing, how he was turned back on and so forth. And he held my hand and said he was sorry he could no longer match my biological needs."

You let a chuckle escape, naturally. Wanda laughed too, watching you with intensity. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, wondering if you had offended her. Tact was never a very strong quality.

"Sorry, it's just..." You started with another short laugh, "He's just the worse. But if you say it's okay, I believe you. If it's not, I can take you to break some things too." 

Your suggestion makes her smile fondly, but you don't see it because you're being served at the drive-through, and you're ordering her favorite drink without asking, and Wanda is swallowing dryly and looking at the scenery again because she thinks she'll end up confessing something if she doesn't look away the same second your fingers rub together as you hand over the glass of iced coffee.

The music comes back on, a soft melody that fills the car parked on the street, heading toward Tony's house - because you were going to drive her back, and then you were going to travel and be away for who knows how long - and Wanda was trying not to think about that as you two drank in silence.

"You guys aren't going to try again, then?" You ask and she wants to laugh at how insistent on this you are being. It's almost comical, but it must make sense because you are respecting the fact that for her, five years have not passed. Just a few weeks. Wanda wonders if it hurts to pretend that nothing has changed.

She chuckles nonetheless, straightening in her seat to look at you without having to keep turning her face away. 

"No, Y/N!" She says with more certainty although the amused tone does not leave her speech. "Vision and I aren't going to happen anymore, like, ever. It wasn't working out well before, with him signing those agreements and I didn't. We tried, and it didn't work. And then, you know." 

You nodded, taking a big sip of your coffee. Your chest filled with warm, liquid hope in contrast to the cold drink, and you almost coughed. Wanda didn't notice.

"Sorry for being pushy." You mumble clumsily. "I just figured it would be strange for you to see him like that again."

"It was." She says with another laugh. "But White Vision is better than a dead vision." She jokes, and it's so slightly macabre that she grimaces, but you share guilty giggles, drinking in silence for a while.

"And how has it been for you?" Wanda asks, her fingers circling the top of the cup. 

You swallow dryly, frowning slightly.

"I'm fine." You answer almost immediately as if the question were silly. As if you don't have a hole in your chest right now. And Wanda can see right through you. "Really, I... I just need to finish this, and I can get back to work."

Wanda doesn't smile now. You don't hold her gaze because you feel like you might start to cry. She twists her straw with some hesitation.

"You don't have to do this alone, you know." She starts then, looking down at her own drink. You raise your gaze from your lap to her. "I could...if you want, of course, be by your side."

You are sure your cheeks are reddening, but you offer her a small smile. "Wanda, are you inviting yourself to go with me?" You joke, of course, you joke. Wanda has missed it, all your little antics. She bites back a laugh, rolling her eyes and pinching you between the hips like she's done a million times between training sessions and you almost break the distance between your faces, but you just laugh with her as she pulls away to lean her back against the door again.

"I'm just being a nice friend, asshole!" she retorts in the same tone so rudely and you think she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Her red hair fell to the side of her face, and her chipped fingernails fiddled with her coffee straw. 

The word friend, however, puts tension on your shoulders. You exhale and force a smile.

"I'd love for you to go with me, witchy." You finally invite, and Wanda grimaces.

"Don't bring back that nickname!" She complains pushing you again, and you laugh, trying to keep you two from spilling coffee.

"What? You prefer Magic Fingers?" It's your response back that makes her laugh with red cheeks.

"God, I changed my mind, you can go alone!" She retorts between giggles and pinches. Eventually, the laughter ceases, and the drinks run out. 

You go out and throw the empty cups away, and Wanda counts your steps until you are back while playing with the door latch.

When you sit down, you buckle your seat belt before speaking. "Do you have anything you need to pick up?" Is your question.

Wanda swallows dryly, and looks at you, nodding in the negative. There is nothing left. 

You don't say a word, and start driving.

–//–

It shouldn't be so surprising how good it is to be in your company.

Wanda remembers this. Hours and hours in the tower, in the compound, on missions.

She wonders if she missed it more before the Accords or now. 

When everything happened, the Avengers collapsing and the world turning upside down, she had Vision, but suddenly she didn't have you. How you two got so far apart might have had more to do with you leaving earth than anything else, it still hurt just the same. You needed to go, and you wanted to go. That was a painful truth. You wanted to leave, you wanted to help Thor, not stay with her.

Wanda knew that was selfish. To think like that. But she couldn't help it.

But still, at times like now, sitting in the passenger seat while you drive beside her, occasionally stealing glances through the rearview mirror, makes her think she wants to be very selfish about keeping you.

"How far is Ohio?" Wanda asks a few minutes down the road. She is flipping through one of the magazines you left stored in the glove box, and you run a hand over your face before answering.

"Not that far really."  You reply. "We could do it in a day, but I don't like driving at night. We'll stop for a rest and should get there early tomorrow morning."

"Can we have dinner in a dinner?" She asks and you chuckle, taking your gaze off the road for a moment.

"What? Why?"

Wanda sighs. "Because it's like in the movies!" She says as if it's obvious. "We'll have a decent road trip."

You laugh affectionately, shaking your head. "Of course, Miss Maximoff."

"Don't call me that, it makes me feel old."

You laugh again. "Please, you haven't aged in five years. I almost catch up with you." 

You tease making her laugh. It's probably wrong in some sense to joke about such things, but you've always been like that. And so has she. Honestly, it makes sense how quickly you connected.

"I can't believe I missed so many of your birthdays." Wanda complains then, and you smile shyly.

"Don't worry, it's not like they have many parties in space." You say, causing her to frown.

She settles back into her seat, leaving the magazines on the floor and hugging one of her legs.

"Speaking of which, we still haven't caught up on your whole space era, Miss Romanoff." She starts with a tone of fake seriousness that makes you laugh. "How was all that time out there?"

You shrug, sighing a little, "It was good, I guess. Really different from here, but the places Thor took me looked a lot like the black markets I had to work in back in the Red Room days, only with bizarre creatures around." You recount not being able to keep your gaze on Wanda because you were driving, "We split up after Asgard, he wanted to rebuild his community, and I guess I wanted to find out more about myself. I joined a group of space pirates, and that must have been the coolest phase."

Wanda laughed affectionately, resting her chin on her knee as she looked at you. "I bet you must have had so much fun, dorogoya."

"I wish you had gone with me." The confession escapes before you can contain it. Wanda's gaze wavers, and you swallow dryly. Before you can apologize, she nods softly.

"I wish I had said yes." She returns half hoarsely. "The day you invited me. I... I don't know why I hesitated actually. I should have said yes."

You give her a sad smile, shaking your head. "Don't worry, Wands. You had Vision, you two were going to try, weren't you? I'm the one always running away, I guess. That's what space was for me back then. An escape."

"What were you running away from?" She questions with a frown. You grip the steering wheel hard before letting go and force a smile.

Of you, Vision, and your perfect relationship should be the honest answer.

"The end of the Avengers, I guess." You say with little certainty. "Or maybe finding out about that whole Red Room thing that was still going on. Nat and Yelena were safe, finally. I just needed to get out of this place, find a purpose again."

Wanda nodded in understanding. You waited for two red lights in silence before she commented:

"When did you get back?"

"When you were gone." You tell her without looking at her, and Wanda wants to hug you, but it wouldn't be a good time to crash the car. You force a smile, however, turning a corner as you continue to tell, "Carol and I found Tony in space, brought him back. That's when I..." You interrupted yourself, your chest filled with emotion, and cleared your throat. Wanda was right beside you, and the memory of the day you found out she was gone still hurt like it was happening. "Anyway, after that, I couldn't leave Natasha again. Not after I knew we had lost Yelena too. I stayed around, helped with what I could, and now we're here."

"Have you called your sister yet?" Wanda asked.

A sigh and a nod. "As soon as the battle was over." You spoke up. "It was hard, probably the hardest thing I've ever done. We were on the phone for a couple of hours, the whole memorial thing had to be done but the Stark Industries and SWORD people were taking care of everything. Yelena asked me to get everything done in Ohio, so that is why I haven't been around as much these last few days."

"I figured, especially when I saw you and Clint getting the car." Wanda comments as she remembers the last few days since Thanos. She twists her fingers together, looking at the back seat for a moment before glancing back at you. "The boxes are Nat's stuff, aren't they?"

"Yeah." You confirm with a sad sigh. "Everything they were able to recover from the wreckage. I don't think you heard about it but I bought a house."

"What?" Wanda asked in surprise, and you giggled.

"Yes, shortly after the blip." You count. "The same one where me, Nat and Yelena grew up. I didn't use it much because of the chaos at work, but it's mine. It's where Yelena is waiting for us, where I'll put Nat's things, decide what we can donate and what Yelena will keep for herself. I haven't had the courage to look yet, I wanted to do that with her."

Wanda nods in understanding, one hand moving to your shoulder. You smile, at the same time wishing she would stop touching you before you melt, and also wish she would never stop.

"I can't wait to meet Yelena." Wanda comments making you smile affectionately.

"You'll like her, she kinds of reminds me of Pietro." You retort and Wanda feels her heart skip a beat. Anyone else saying that would have hurt her deeply. But you, she thinks, is sweet. You are the only person she could casually talk to about him anyway. "Wow, and she likes old rock music, so you guys must enjoy the same bad bands."

Wanda lets out an exclamation of false offense. "Excuse me, but my musical taste is flawless!" She defends herself theatrically, getting a laugh from you. "And to prove how right I am, I choose the music from now on."

"Whatever you say, Miss Maximoff." You scoff at the nickname just to annoy her, and you don't mind the gentle pinch in the ribs because you're laughing.

–//–

You don't want to think about buried feelings when Wanda falls asleep in the passenger seat. 

You don't, and yet, it's all your brain can produce. Dozens and dozens of thoughts rush through your head at high speed.

Wanda shifts in her sleep as you are setting the GPS to the nearest motel, and lazily opens her eyes to look at you.

"You're being loud." She whispers, still sounding very much asleep. You let out a short giggle, imagining that she is complaining about the little struggle with the electronic device.

"Sorry, honey, I was trying to set up..."

"Not with that." She interrupts her tone suddenly much more awake. "In your head."

You swallow dryly, and suddenly all thoughts are gone. A little trick you learned in the Red Room, and have perfected with the telepath at your side. You are smiling, and going to tell her it's settled when Wanda sighs and puts a hand on your thigh.

"I didn't mean for you to stop." She whispers, looking at your face, but you are tense in your seat, trying to continue driving normally with the warm touch. "You don't have to block them out for me, I won't look without your permission. I just want you to know that you can tell me what's bothering you."

You swallow dryly, once twice, until your heart stops beating wrong. But it only gets better when Wanda removes her hand from your thigh and settles better on the seat to look at you with a frown of concern at your silence.

"I'm just a little tired." You say. "Don't worry, Wands. My head gets noisy when I'm tired, you know that. Let's just eat something and go to sleep and I'll feel better."

Wanda doesn't believe you one hundred percent. You can tell by the way she sighs almost in defeat, deciding not to push you. But she says no more than "All right." and looks back at the road.

A short while later, you park the car at a Dinner so typically American that it makes the face of the girl in front of you light up with excitement. She is getting out of the car first, and when you delay, there is red magic gently nudging you to encourage you to move, and you laugh, mumbling that you are coming as you finish stretching.

You and Wanda sit in opposite seats, but you find yourself wishing you had sat next to her.

"Would it be bad if I ordered ice cream?" Wanda asks softly making you laugh as you both look at the menu.

"I think you deserve to eat whatever you want, darling." You comment and she smiles, turning her attention back to the list of dishes.

Then you are served by a grumpy waitress, but the food - a real dinner for you, and waffles with ice cream for Wanda - is really quite good. The redhead steals your fries at least four times before you give her one last warning look.

There is a report about the battle of Thanos, and consequently the fallen Avengers, playing on the Dinner TV that takes your hunger away. As soon as she notices you pinching the meat with your fork, Wanda uses her magic to change the channel, and you want to laugh at the way the diner's staff can't understand why the remote simply doesn't work, but you're more busy thanking the girl in front of you with a look and a whisper.

When you finally left the restaurant, you walked, playfully nudging your hips together as you did so, to the roadside motel a few yards ahead.

It was simple and cheap but looked clean enough.

"I'll take the couch." You say as soon as you two are inside to the single green duvet double bed, a backpack with the personal items you needed that you took from the back seat in your hands. Wanda laughs in front of you, taking off her shoes.

"Please, we've shared a bed before." 

Yes, when I was too young for you to notice me and didn't have a trillion gay feelings buried in my chest, you think, but all it does is give her a nervous chuckle. If Wanda can be calm and mature about it, so can you. It doesn't have to be awkward. 

"Here, soap and toothbrush." You handed the items to her. "They were the best in the machine, unfortunately, they didn't have a red brush but you'll have to live with that pain."

Wanda laughed, rolling her eyes and giving you a nudge on the shoulder before thanking you and turning toward the bathroom. She commented something about the towels being in the bottom drawer before closing the door.

You decided to check your phone while she was in the shower. 

"I'm already here. Your place is nice." Yelena texted.

"Please tell me you remembered where I said the key was."

"Why? Wasn't I allowed to break the window?" 

You groan softly, but your sister texts afterward:

"I'm just messing with you. I could hear you whining from here, grumpy. Under the plant, yes?" And she sends a picture of the golden key to confirm, making you sigh with relief.

"I'm taking a friend with me. Wanda. We stopped for the night, and should be back tomorrow before lunch."

Yelena didn't send anything for about five minutes. And then:

"I can't wait to meet your girlfriend."

You blush too hard at the text, and to make matters worse, Wanda opens the bathroom door, and you shove your cell phone so quickly into your pocket that you almost knock it to the floor. 

"I saved you some hot water, but I recommend you wear slippers." Wanda says as she leaves, and you laugh awkwardly because she is simply wearing a towel and you think she is staring. "Y/N?"

Yep, definitely staring. Clearing your throat, and rising in a jump from the couch, you stumble your way to grab a clean change of clothes from your backpack and head to the bathroom.

"You can take any of the items from the backpack, there's a t-shirt, pants, underwear..." Suddenly your suggestion list is too intimate, and you are shutting up, your face warmer than before. Wanda watches you with curiosity. "I'm going to take a shower." You declare and walk into the bathroom, slamming the door.

You could do that. Not awkward at all.

Wanda bit back a small smile as soon as the door closed. She missed that, your clumsiness. Or just your anxious manner anyway. She went to the backpack you had brought and picked up a set of clothes of some sort. It smelled like you and didn't calm the way her heart was beating.

She decided to distract herself with the television while she waited for you to return, but the mentions of the blip and the Avengers didn't make her feel very good.

When you came out of the bathroom, you smelled like lavender. And your hair was wet, and Wanda had to squeeze the pillow she was holding against herself to keep from getting up and walking over to you, her every desire being to be the one to towel-dry your hair as you were doing.

"We should get some sleep, we're getting up early tomorrow." You mutter as you go to put the towel out to dry. 

"Let's share the steering wheel tomorrow." She declares, and it's not even a request, and you smile, nodding as you move to pull out the sofa bed. Wanda frowns. "What are you doing?"

"My bed?"

"I thought you were going to sleep with me." She almost pouts. You laugh sheepishly.

"Wanda, you're a flirt." You joke, of course, humor is easier than dealing with the way your stomach flips at the image of the intense gaze and flushed cheeks of the girl in front of you. Wanda bites back a smile.

"God, you're the worst." She complains in an affected whisper while you are laughing and setting up the bed.

But in the next few minutes, when you two are lying in opposite corners, and Wanda has used her powers to turn off the light, neither of you is smiling anymore.

"Y/N?" 

You move at her whisper, turning your face toward the bed. "Yes?"

"Did you miss me when I was away?"

You frown immediately and almost sit up in indignation. "What kind of question is that, Wands? Of course, I did!"

She sighs. "I'm sorry." Wanda says almost so small that you want to get up and hug her. "I just...I really missed you when you were in space."

"Oh." You murmur in surprise, staring at the ceiling. Wanda twists her fingers in her lap, and you bite the inside of your cheek. "I missed you too. When I was in space."

Wanda gives a sigh that sounds more like a short laugh. "Even though you were with your super-cool space pirate friends?"

You laugh, running a hand through your hair. "Especially then." You confess softly. "All I could think was I wish Wanda was here to meet these guys. She would love the music, and hate the weird food. But hey, I sent you postcards! You make it sound like I forgot about you."

Wanda props herself up on her elbows to look at you. "No, I didn't mean it like that!" She defends herself even though you're not really angry. "Honestly, I don't know what I meant. I just... it's weird. I saw you last on a ship, and then the blip happened and we were fighting and you were here again. Like no time had passed, and now we're driving to a house you bought in the time I was gone and-"

You pushed the thin blanket off your body and climbed into bed, reaching for Wanda in the middle of your anxious mumbling. "Come here." You ordered as you wrapped her shoulders in a tight embrace, and she fell silent, matching the squeeze. You let your weight fall on her, aligning yourself as you kissed her forehead.

"I missed you every second you were away from me." You confess. "And I wish I had come back sooner to tell you that."

Wanda lets a shallow breath escape, and her hands close around your waist as she buries her face in your neck. This is too much. Too intimate, too good. And you still don't have the heart to pull away.

"Sleep here with me." She asks against your skin, her fingers tightening before she purrs, "I want to feel you again."

It is your turn to let out a sharp breath. Your brain is screaming at you to remember the platonic meanings. To feel a friend who stayed away for a long time, someone who used to fall asleep in her bed on movie nights. There was nothing more than that.

But when she settled to cuddle up with you, it was hard to think of it as completely platonic.

–//–

You sleep heavier than Wanda, it's always been that way.

She likes it because it gives her time to admire your features while you are asleep. She can barely contain her smile or the way her heart races as she watches your sleeping figure, the soft breaths, and the slightly open mouth.

It's not the ideal position for her poor heart though. Your face is on the pillow beside her, your legs entwined under the mattress, and the hand around her waist has a few fingers in contact with the skin under her blouse, probably having found space there during the night. She feels her face heat up at the thought that she wishes your hand would go just a little higher, or worse, lower...

With a not-so-great movement, she is suddenly pulling away, and you are waking up confused by the sudden movement, but Wanda does her best to disguise it by saying that you two shouldn't be late. Lucky for her, you believe anything when you are sleepy enough.

Many minutes later - just after a decent cup of coffee at Dinner - you are back on the road. Wanda is feeling particularly anxious this morning, maybe it's the possibility of meeting Yelena, or maybe it's the way you wiped her face with the napkin that kept going through her head in a loop, but she was tapping her foot on the car floor a few insistent minutes ago and you were chuckling.

Before she could ask, your hand found her thigh, a simple request for her to stop that caused her to choke on her own breath.

"Is everything okay, sweetheart?" You asked, and Wanda gave a short giggle. She needed a quick answer.

"I thought we were going to switch directions." She says then, and you are taken aback, but you smile, your hand gives her skin a light squeeze that almost manages a sound that Wanda knows would make things awkward.

"Do you want to drive now?" You ask half confused, and Wanda is nodding because honestly, she thinks she will agree to anything you ask while you are touching her thigh. You give a surprised giggle. "Okay, let's switch." And with that, your hand moves out for you to park the car, and everything runs on automatic in Wanda's head for the next few minutes.

She is just grateful to be able to breathe properly again now that the touch is gone.

"You can follow the GPS, and I'll let you know if I have to change routes on the way." You comment as you buckle up and Wanda starts the car again. All you get in return is a hum of knowledge, and it makes you frown in concern. Wanda is acting strange. She is a quiet person, it is true, but she seems nervous. You don't want to pressure her, though, and decide to let the trip happen until she relaxes better.

She definitely gets more excited as Ohio approaches. You smile from the passenger seat, watching her let out short exclamations about the scenery or at how beautiful she looks listening to the short stories you have about this place.

You arrive at your old house before half-past eleven. Yelena is on the porch, mowing the lawn and wearing a pair of overalls. She wipes her hands in her pockets and looks a little hesitant as you get out of the car, but as soon as you get close enough, she smiles and runs to hug you.

"Я так скучал по тебе, сестричка. (I missed you so much, little sister)." You say as you hold her and Lena lets out a tearful laugh, tightening her arms around your neck.

"Я тоже почувствовал твое. (I missed you too.)" She retorts. You only let go a long moment later, and you exchange a knowing glance at the person missing from that embrace before you force a smile and turn to introduce the person getting off the car.

"Yelena, this is Wanda Maximoff, a friend from the Avengers." You say, and ignore the look the blonde throws you as she approaches to shake the redhead's hand. "Wands, this is Yelena Belova, my younger sister."

"It's nice to finally meet the famous Wanda Maximoff." Yelena declares and you already want to dig a hole in the ground. Wanda raises an eyebrow in confusion.

"Famous?"

"Nat and Y/N talked about you all the time." She counters. "Nat sounded like a mentor, but Y/N....

"Like a friend!" You cut off almost in despair, laughing nervously. "Because we were-are friends.  And I talk about my friends."

Wanda watched the scene with a confused frown, but Yelena laughed at her reaction. "Of course, Y/N. You talked about all your friends equally, in the same amount and frequency." Yelena says in a teasing tone that makes her cheeks blush.

"You two go inside I'll get the stuff from the car." You decide to call it off, ignoring the giggles of the other two.

You hear Wanda start to pull a conversation with your sister, but lose focus on that when you open the trunk and find Natasha's boxes inside.

The hissing comes again. 

Taking a deep breath, you place one box on top of the other and ignore your trembling hands to take them inside.

You find Wanda and Yelena in the living room, the blonde presenting the place as if it were her home and not yours.

"[...] And here you can see that she chooses the worst decor in all of America, and clearly doesn't know how to clean the carpet properly." Yelena said making Wanda laugh and you roll your eyes with amusement.

As you placed the boxes on the kitchen countertop, you commented, "I'm sorry I'm not an expert in interior design, Belova."

"I think the place is lovely." Wanda says to you, making you smile in appreciation, but suddenly Yelena is sighing as she sees the boxes.

"Are these...?" She asks, and you swallow dryly before nodding. Yelena hesitates, moving a little closer, "Can we do this later? I have a thing, I was just waiting for you guys to arrive."

"Oh, sure." You say half surprised. "Will you join us for lunch?"

"Yeah." She says forcing a smile that doesn't last as she faces the boxes again. Clearing her throat, she moves toward the door, where she begins to exchange her work boots for regular sneakers. "I'll be going now, but I'll be back in a couple of hours. Continue the tour of the house, Y/N, don't be a bad host." She mocks softly getting a roll of your eyes.

Soon, she is gone as quickly as you arrived, and you turn your face to Wanda.

"That was weird, wasn't it?" you ask, and she laughs softly, reaching over to take your hand.

"Totally, but come on, show me around."

The house is simple and was restored just before the blip, so despite Yelena's comments, you particularly think it's very nice. You show Wanda everything, even your makeshift, little-used office - of which you're sure Yelena has messed all over - and the abandoned attic. 

"It has empty rooms." Wanda comments and you nod in agreement.

"Yes, we were in three after all." You say. "It's a big house, I did the office just to use space really, but there ended up being another empty room left. Maybe I'll make a playroom." You joke, but Wanda doesn't smile, because the possibility of you staying here and not in New York with her isn't exactly funny.

"Are you thinking of moving here?" She asks before she can stop herself, and you are surprised by the seriousness in her voice.

Your hesitation only makes Wanda feel worse, but you force a laugh. "I don't know, I guess I haven't really thought about it yet." You say. "It's not like the job is going to go away."

"I guess so." Wanda murmurs thoughtfully, and makes her way back to the kitchen, while you follow her half-heartedly. 

"Do you think Yelena will be long?" You ask as soon as you enter the commode, and Wanda mutters distractedly that you are the one who should know because she is your sister, and the passive aggressiveness surprises you quite a bit. Mentally going over what you might have said wrong in the conversation to upset her, you remain silent as the two of you stand on opposite sides of the kitchen.

"Can I make your lunch?" Wanda suddenly declares, and you blink away from the bubble of confusion in your head to look at her. 

"Lunch?"

"Yeah, lunch." Wanda confirms with a smile. "It's getting late, and you look hungry. You can help me prepare if you promise to behave."

You let out a huff. "I always behave." You say, but you both know that's not true. Wanda has cooked enough times in your presence or rather tried to cook while you were doing everything you could to torment her, to know that it wasn't true. She laughs, shaking her head to check the cupboards.

Yelena has bought enough to use for meals, and you are happy to sit at the countertop while Wanda cooks - she says you can help, but she really doesn't need to when she has magic to move things around for her - and you are more than happy to watch her while pretending to be on your cell phone.

Yelena doesn't take two hours. She arrives almost 40 minutes after she left, just as Wanda is finishing the food.

You listen to the truck and smile, but when you hear a bark, you frown. In a moment the door opens, a smiling Yelena enters, and along with her, a furry, fluffy creature barks and jumps with enthusiasm. You widen your eyes in surprise, but Wanda lets out an equally excited laugh, dropping the spoon to approach the dog.

"Who's that?" Greets the redhead as she bends down, smiling and petting the animal. Yelena closes the door with her foot.

"Say hello to Fanny!" Your sister announces, and you let out a confused giggle.

"You bought a dog." You say the obvious, your gaze split between your sister, Wanda, and the animal rolling around on the floor on its belly as the redhead strokes it. "Why?"

Yelena laughs, shrugging. "I always wanted a dog." She says simply, letting go of the collar and leaving the car key on the kitchen counter. "I saw a donation ad at the market and decided that was a sign."

"But..."

"Stop thinking so hard." Yelena cuts in with a laugh. "It's just a dog."

"You don't even live here." You reason ignoring her request. "How are you going to get the puppy back to Russia? How are you going to take care of a dog while you work? Are you sure that..."

Yelena laughs again, letting Wanda play with the dog as she moves closer to put her hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, relax. I really wanted a dog, okay? Don't you remember, we had that conversation before you left."

You swallow dryly, nodding. It's true. Just before you meet her again and take down the Red Room.

"Have you ever thought about having children?" Yelena asked, as you opened the beers and Nat changed her bandage. The redhead laughed softly.

"Have you?" She returned with a question.

"I want a dog." Yelena replied making you smile. "Why do I feel like Y/N wants both?"

Nat laughs, nodding. "She definitely does." She commented almost in mockery, making you blush. "A bunch of kids and puppies with Wanda Maximoff."

"Shut up, you two." You cut off embarrassed, handing the beers to them, and receiving giggles in return.

You pushed the memory away, clearing your throat and moving away from Yelena's touch.

"I'm going to finish lunch." You declare, and take a quick glance at the animal. "He's cute."

You return to the kitchen, and shortly after, the food is ready. Little Fanny is really adorable, and while you and Wanda prepare the table, Yelena shows him around so he can get comfortable. 

The little creature is very happy in your armchair, and you cast a half-hearted glance at him, but you don't insist as you take one of the seats at the table.

"Are you going to stick around, Y/N?" Yelena asks as soon as she joins you again, washing her hands so she can eat. You exchange a look with Wanda before putting your food back down.

"I haven't decided yet." You mutter. "I still have work from the Avengers."

"I thought you were going to sell the house." Yelena says as she walks over to the table with a clean plate. You grimace.

"Why?"

She shrugs. "If you're going to stay with your fancy friends in New York, you don't really need Ohio."

You chuckle sheepishly, shaking your head and looking at Wanda to clarify, "Lena is super jealous of the Avengers, she thinks I find you guys cooler."

Wanda laughs, but Yelena rolls her eyes in stubbornness, "Please, I know I'm way cooler than them. No offense, Wanda."

The redhead laughs softly. "No taken." She murmurs watching the interaction intently as she pours herself some food.

You eat in silence for a while, occasionally exchanging comments about the trip or the television, but you can feel the tension growing over the untouched boxes in the corner of the room.

It is only in the afternoon, when Fanny has fallen asleep in Wanda's lap in your chair that and you and Yelena have no more excuses to put it off that you take a deep breath and finish washing the dishes, turning to find your sister already standing, twiddling her fingers as she stares at the closed boxes.

You offer her a small smile, but she does not reciprocate. "Come on, Lena, we can do this."

Yelena takes a deep breath, and you round the kitchen counter - exchanging a quick look of reassurance with Wanda in the room - before moving to pick up the boxes and carry them to the empty table.

"Okay, this one first..." You say as you open the first. Yelena stands beside you half hesitantly, but you smile as soon as you see the first item. A small brooch from the Avengers. "So cheesy." You comment as you take it out, raising it in the air for the girls to see. Yelena smiles, and it suddenly everything feels lighter.

You see almost all the contents of the first box with several smiles and giggles. Wanda stands up at some point - just after you call her over to look at some lost photographs that had her - and stands beside you. 

But in the second box the hissing returns.

You choke softly as you pick up the cassette tape. Yelena is distracted by a little box of button sewing, and you for a moment wish you hadn't opened any box at all. But then she looks at the item in your hands - her own name in handwriting - and is taking it from you.

"Lena, wait...." You try but she is already moving away with the tape in hand, running out to her own truck. Wanda looks at you in confusion, but you are following your sister out.

Yelena is sitting in the car with the door closed, leaning over to put the tape on the car. You stop beside the window, resting your hands on the open gap, but she doesn't look at you, static as she waits for the sound to start. You hear Wanda's footsteps behind you, but she stands some distance away.

At the first notes of American Pie, Yelena sobs. You swallow dryly and make mention of saying something, but she gives the radio a hard squeeze, changing the track. It only gets worse when the soft sound of Natasha's laughter comes on.

"Hey, dekta." The message begins. "I really hope you didn't take your birthday present without asking, it took me a while to make this one. I put in all the bad tracks you like, especially your favorite, this old song. You're going to be 23, and it's your first birthday with us since, you know... and also the last one before Y/N travel for a while, so I wanted you to have something to keep us close while you study in Russia with mom and dad. 

Yelena hugs one knee, hiding her face from you. She is crying.

"I didn't mean to make it so emotional, but I think I'm doing the right thing now, Yelena." Nat continues in a voice half-husky with emotion. "You and Y/N are my family, and now you are safe. And the Avengers are like family to me too, and being with them, making sure you have a future that I couldn't, makes sense to me. Keeping you safe for dozens more birthdays and getting more bad gifts. I can't wait to see you in college, Y/N promised she would come back to this planet just to see you graduate."

Yelena turned off the radio, and opened the door hard, almost hitting you. You took a step back, but she pushed you anyway.

"Tell me what happened!" She demands in a mixture of anger and emotion, and you sniffle softly.

"I already told you." You say, but she shakes her head.

"It doesn't make sense!" Yelena retorts in excitement, gesturing to the air. "She wanted to be here! Then how come she's not?"

"Yelena..."

"No!" she interrupted pushing you again, and you let the tears flow. "How come Barton is alive and she's not? What's happened? How come you're here and she's not?"

You sigh sadly, running a hand over your face. "I told you what happened." You insist more calmly. "Natasha made a choice."

"I don't believe you." Yelena retorts bitterly, and you laugh tearfully.

"What, Lena?" You let your emotions overwhelm you. "Do you think I wanted this to happen? I tried to stop it! Clint tried too."

"You should have tried harder." Yelena says, and you know she's just hurt, and she's trying to hurt you too, and she succeeds. You look down at the floor, letting the tears fall.

"It was a soul for a soul." You repeat what you said on the phone, so many days before, and it breaks you the same way. "There was no other way, Yelena. I wanted to jump, but Natasha trapped my suit. Clint fought her, but she was always a better fighter than all of us put together." You recount with a tearful laugh, remembering everything clearly. "I let go at the last moment, I...I held her. She insisted it was the right thing to do. She said it was okay."

"Were you going to jump?" Yelena asked hesitantly, and you let out another humorless laugh, running your hand through your hair.

"Of course, I was going to." You say. "I don't have anything, Lena. Natasha is made for this, to take care of you. She could pretend she didn't, but she was also the leader of that team. And Barton had his family. I was more than willing to give myself over for the stone, but as I said, Nat made her decision. She cut the rope, and I watched her fall."

You sob at the last sentence, shaking your head as you walk away. "So, I'm sorry if I'm not the sister you wanted here today, Lena, but I assure you that I fought for Natasha to be here." You declare and Yelena shakes her head, her eyes full of tears. She makes mention of coming after you, but you slip inside before she has a chance to do so.

–//–

Wanda packs up the boxes and feeds Fanny while Yelena goes upstairs to the second floor. You are in the empty room, sitting on the floor, and she knocks on the door before you say she can come in.

"I have to apologize to you." Says the blonde as she closes the door, and leans on the wood. You laugh short, hugging your knees.

"Do you want to?"

She nods, and you swallow dryly, hitting the empty space beside you. Yelena approaches unhurriedly and mimics your position.

"I'm sorry." She says after a moment, and you sigh, nodding.

"I'm sorry, too." You say. "For yelling, and for, dropping all that on you." You continue sincerely. "This is hard, and we're both hurting."

"Yeah, but, you don't have to apologize for that." Yelena retorts, resting her chin on her knee and looking at you. "You can scream, and cry, Y/N. You never do that, and you don't have to apologize for having emotions, you know? I'm the one who has to apologize for treating you that way." She explains, and you frown slightly, pulling at loose strands of your shirt as your sister looks away again. "I shouldn't have made it seem like I wanted you not to be here. It's not true, you know. I'm really glad you are."

You swallow dryly, shaking your head. But Yelena moves one of her hands to yours on top of your knee.

"Natasha was my favorite person, but so are you." She says. "I'm sorry if I ever made it seem like I liked her more than I like you."

You laugh softly, shaking your head and interlacing your hands together. "It's okay, Lena. Natasha was my favorite person too, and so are you."

Yelena smiles, moving to rest her head on your shoulder. 

"Are we going to be okay without her, YN?" She asks softly, and you swallow dryly.

"I don't know." You answer truthfully. "But I will try to take care of you like she did."

Yelena smiles, nodding. You stand in silence, just enjoying each other's company for long minutes until you hear Wanda and Fanny playing in the backyard from downstairs. Yelena stands up to look out the window, and laughs at the scene, beckoning you to join her.

Your chest heats up at the scene, and you smile sweetly, a look that your sister notices.

"You were wrong before, Y/N." Yelena says suddenly, and you look at her with confusion. She gives you a sad smile. "Natasha could see that you had something. Something worth living on for."

You swallow dryly, looking away from the window to your sister, "I didn't want her to have made that choice for me."

"It wasn't fair what happened, but I'm glad at least one of you is here." Yelena says passing an arm around your waist to hug you. "Just make her sacrifice worth it, Y/N. Stop being a chicken and tell that girl how you feel."

You laugh sheepishly, hugging Yelena back. She squeezes before letting go and pats you on the cheek. "Let's finish with the boxes. Enough of the sad talk."

"Yes, ma'am." You agree with amusement, escorting her out of the room.

As soon as you were downstairs, Yelena commented that you should go to the market, giving you a gentle nudge with her hips.

"Are you hungry already?" You scoff making her laugh, but when you understand the look on her face, you nod. "Okay, okay, I'll get the things for dinner. You two behave yourselves."

Wanda smiles half lost in the interjection, but as soon as you give her a wink and turn away to head toward the car, and she meets Yelena's mischievous gaze, she knows she has fallen into a trap.

"You and I have a lot to talk about, Maximoff." Yelena declared as soon as you started the car. She watched you drive away and Wanda caress Fanny before she decided to join in the playtime, and her phrase got a nervous chuckle from the redhead.

"Okay." She mumbled clumsily, and handed the little ball she was tossing to Fanny to Yelena - the animal bouncing excitedly between them in search of the object - who thanked her with a nod, and tossed the object further across the yard to the dog before commenting:

"You care about my sister."

Wanda smiled. "Of course I do." She said. "She's my best friend."

Yelena hums half-suspiciously, and Wanda doesn't think that's the right answer, but doesn't understand why. She decides to just go with the flow of the conversation though.

"Sorry for earlier, I think we needed to get some things off our chests." Yelena then says, and Fanny returns with the ball. Wanda nods in understanding, and it is her turn to throw the object away.

"It's all right, Yelena." The redhead assures. "I mean, it's not really, because all that talk about Y/N jumping scared the hell out of me but I want to give her some space before we talk about it."

Yelena sighs, nodding. "Please do." Says the blonde. "I apologized, for the way I made it sound like I didn't want her here, but still, I don't think she believed me. Maybe she'll feel better if you tell her that."

Wanda gives a sad smile, and Fanny brings the ball up again. She reaches up to pet him, and Yelena smiles at the scene.

"Did she still do that thing with her thoughts, the empty head trick?" Yelena asks then, and Wanda lets out an almost frustrated exclamation.

"God, yes!" She grumbles, tossing the ball away and watching the dog run before focusing on the blonde next to her. "It's infuriating sometimes. She blocks everything out and even with my magic I can't tell what's wrong. But I feel bad about pushing."

Yelena nods in understanding. "You should push, I know that's strange to hear, but it's true." Says the blonde. "She learned that in the Red Room."

"How? if you don't mind telling me of course. Y/N doesn't like to talk about it." Wanda says quickly, and Yelena gives her a sad smile, deciding to sit on the grass and hug Fanny when he comes back with the ball.

"Well, we come from different generations of widows." The blonde begins. "Nat went through brainwashing, and I went through chemical subjugation. Y/N was in the middle of it all, I guess. They fragmented her mind into several pieces with the serum enhancement tests, and put what they wanted in place. That's why it took so long for her to find Natasha after she ran away, she couldn't even remember who she really was and what was put in there." 

Wanda frowns, feeling her stomach clench. She remembers you before, when you joined the Avengers, how distant you really were even though you were Wanda's favorite company, sometimes you didn't even seem to be there entirely.

"Anyway, she learned that thing better than anyone." Yelena continues. "It's a battle tactic, because emotions make you vulnerable, you know? Thoughts distract you. She breaks them, and they go away, and she becomes a perfect assassin."

"I've seen her use it in battle before." Wanda comments distractedly, a few flashbacks of missions with the Avengers running through her head. "She gets completely focused."

"Yep, it's scary." Yelena retorts with a sad little laugh, "But she's been getting better at not doing it I guess. I was snooping around her office and found her space travel journals. She wrote about the destinations, she's trying to remember things now. She has also made friends. A certain Captain Danvers seems to be important to her."

Wanda looks down at the floor, a bitter feeling suddenly fills her stomach. It's stupid to feel jealous of someone she barely knows, who was part of your life while she was away, and yet she feels it burn. 

"Do you think she will stay here?" Wanda asks deciding she didn't want to talk about your other friends anymore. Yelena shrugs her shoulders as her hands caress the animal that decided to lie on her lap and play with the little ball.

"She said she has the Avengers, right?"

"Yes, but, things are different." Wanda retorts. "I don't even know if they exist anymore. And honestly, Y/N could use a break. She should at least, take some time off to grieve."

Yelena sighs, nodding. "Yeah, I agree." Says the blonde. "I'm going  back to Russia, spend some time with our parents. Y/N doesn't have the same connection with them, especially with Alexei, she thinks he could have fought better to prevent our rupture, but that's past business. I would like her to rest."

Wanda nods. "I will suggest it." She says, making Yelena smile.

"Are you staying here?" The blonde asks surprising the other, who gives a nervous giggle.

"Me? With her?" She asks, and is blushing at the other's expression. "I don't know. Only if she wants me to."

"Oh, she definitely wants you here, Maximoff." Yelena assures only worsening the redness in Wanda's cheeks, who laughs and shakes her head.

"Then maybe I'll stay."

Yelena smiles. "Just please convince her to buy a rug that isn't so hideous." Jokes the blonde making Wanda laugh.

They fall into comfortable conversation after that. You return only half an hour later, with paper bags in your arms, commenting that some people at the market insisted on having their picture taken with you and it was a very strange thing to experience.

When you got back into the house, Yelena said she was going to call Melina to see how things were going, and gave you a look that meant 'talk to Wanda' but you decided to rearrange Natasha's boxes.

The items that Natasha left for Yelena were going back to Russia with her, and you got the other box that had some shirts, a collection of Nat's classic movies, and the Avengers brooch.

While Yelena was on a video call on the balcony with Fanny on her lap, Wanda leaned on the countertop, watching you finish tidying up.

"How are you doing, Y/N?" She asks once the last box is closed, and you raise your eyes to her.

"I'm fine." You answer immediately, with a small smile. Wanda crosses her arms gently.

"But how are you really?"

You let out a hesitant laugh, moving closer to stand beside the redheaded girl, figuring you couldn't lie by looking into her eyes. "I'm still trying to figure it out." You choose to say, it's vague, but true nonetheless. Wanda uncrosses her arms to slide one of her hands against yours, and you swallow dryly, turning your face to look at her. "You don't have to worry, Wands."

"But I do." She says in a whisper. "I care about you, Y/N. Very much."

"Well, that's what friends are for, right?" you joke, deflecting the intensity of the moment, and Wanda frowns, trying to chase your gaze but you turn your face away.

"Y/N..." She tries, but you are already releasing her hand and moving away.

"I'll check to see if Yelena wants us to prepare dinner already and-"

"Stop running away from me!" Wanda interrupts before you can leave the kitchen and you freeze in place, your back tense. Wanda lets out a raspy breath. "Talk to me. Please."

You sigh, turning your face toward her. "What do you want me to say, Wanda?"

"Anything." 

"No, you want me to say something specific." You retort impatiently. "But I'm not going to guess."

"Say you miss Natasha. Say you are angry at what she did." Wanda retorts with emotion. "Say you wish it had been you, or worse, Clint! Anything!"

You give a short laugh. "I don't need to say that, because you already know all these things, Wanda." You accuse taking a step toward her. "You know me by heart, and I don't need to say any of this for you to see. But there's something else you want me to say, isn't there?"

Wanda swallows dryly, her back slamming against the kitchen counter. "I don't..."

You cut her off with a short laugh "And I'm the one running away."

You comment with bitterness in your voice, and turn to leave the kitchen. Wanda can hear the heartbeats in her ears, but takes a sharp breath, and says:

"Tell me why you left."

You stop, and take a deep breath, looking back at her. "You know why."

"No, I don't."

"Wanda..."

"Please." She insists taking a step forward, suddenly even with the brave tone of voice, she feels very small. "I thought... I thought that for a second, you maybe, cared about me the way I..." But Wanda falls silent, she is babbling, and her face is burning hot. Her heart feels like it's going to jump out of her throat, and you're swallowing dry and being brave for her as you step closer and bring your hands to her cheek.

"What do you think happened that day?" You ask studying her face. Wanda closes her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath.

"I just remember you leaving." She confesses. "But when I think about it, I think it was my fault."

You sigh, caressing her cheek. "I went to Norway to see you, we went out drinking, and I asked you to go into space with me after too many drinks. You said no, and I left. That's what happened, Wanda, it wasn't anyone's fault."

She denies it with her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I heard you." She confesses in a whisper that takes all the air out of her lungs. "Before, before the invitation, before the bar. Vision was there, we were saying goodbye but I guess it must have seemed like something else. Then you're there, and you invited me for a drink and I thought maybe it was the one you promised me."

You widen your eyes, steadying your hands on her face. "Wanda, do you still remember that?"

She nods letting the tears fall. "Y/N, you were only 17 when we met. I told you to buy me a drink when you were old enough, and I meant it. But you pushed me away, and I figured it was a stupid crush you grew out of, but you were there when you turned 21 and I thought you were going to tell me you loved me as much as I love you, but you didn't."

"I said I was leaving." You completed in an emotional whisper, and Wanda nodded with a weeping face. 

"I couldn't leave with you, because I didn't think I could handle being around you knowing that you got over me and I couldn't do the same." Wanda confesses raising her hands to your forearms. "But I should have been brave, and told you to stay. Because I really wanted you with me, by all means."

You gasp, pulling your hands away to hug Wanda tightly by the neck. She hugs you back around the waist, sinking her face into your skin, sighing heavily against you.

"I'm not going anywhere, Wanda." You assure her in a whisper. "I'll stay with you, I promise."

Wanda gave a tearful sigh, tightening her arms around you, but you broke the grip to return your hands to her cheeks. "And this talk of getting over you? That's nonsense. I've loved you, from the first moment I saw you. And I've waited for you, here and in space. And I'll wait longer if I need to."

Wanda lets out a tearful laugh, her chest filling with happiness all at once. "You don't have to wait anymore. Come here." She whispered, tugging at the collar of your shirt to bring your faces close together. The kiss was intense but sweet. You sighed into each other's mouths before breaking, your foreheads touching. "I've wanted to do that for so long, dekta."

"Me too." You confess in the same tone, moving your hands down to her waist, and Wanda lets hers run down your neck. "I can't believe we wasted so much time."

Wanda nods but is breaking the distance, kissing you more slowly now until every hair on your body stands on end, and your body heats up. It feels really good.

A noise outside - Fanny knocking on the door - and you break the kiss with a soft sigh, smiling into each other's mouths.

"Perfect timing." You murmur annoyed, making Wanda laugh. She looks up at you with passionate, narrowed eyes, one of her hands finding your cheek.

"I think so, actually." She retorts in the same tone. "We're finally at the right time."

You smile, your hands around her waist. "Maybe just a little late..." You tease depositing a kiss behind her ear, making her shudder softly. "But it's okay, we'll make up for lost time." You promise as you bite the lobe of her ear, and Wanda laughs softly, tightening her arms around you.

Yelena enters the room shortly after, with a raised eyebrow at the guilty expressions of the two of you.

"I thought there was somebody making out on in my kitchen, but it must have been an illusion because I wouldn't have come all the way from Russia for such free trauma." She declares causing Wanda to laugh, and you to mumble in embarrassment.

"First, this is my kitchen." You complain. "Second, stop snooping."

Yelena laughs, shrugging as she puts her cell phone away. "I'm glad you guys worked it out. Can we watch a movie?"

"Sure, Lena."

For the rest of the afternoon, you sit in the living room to watch Natasha's movie collection. It's quiet and peaceful. You wanted to say that you were surprised at the ease in which Wanda's hand finds yours under the covers, but you really weren't, it just felt even more right.

Yelena would be back in Russia the next day, and after dinner, while you were making the bed, you wanted to ask if Wanda would stay.

"It's not like I have anywhere to go." She answers your question before the question is out - she is wearing pajamas borrowed from you, and her hair is damp from her recent shower - when she appears at your bedroom door.

You inhale deeply at the image, and smile at the small intrusion. "Nosy." You sneer without really being angry, and she bites back a smile, crossing her arms as she stares at you in the doorway.

"You're not blocking them from me." She comments and you shrug, turning your attention back to the freshly folded blanket.

"I used to hide how I felt from you, now that you know, I don't have to anymore."

"I'm sorry." 

You turn your head to her again. "Don't worry." You say with a smile. "Come here." Wanda moves in the same second and uncrosses her arms when you touch her forearms. "I think you should go to the airport with Yelena tomorrow, and go back to New York."

Wanda blinks in confusion, frowning in concern; "What? Why?"

You smile, your fingers caressing her skin. "That doctor we met, Strange. He's magical like you. He could help you with your powers."

Wanda hesitates. "But I want to stay with you."

"And I want you here with me." You assure without stopping smiling. "But you're something else, Wanda. I've seen you fight, sweetheart. You're so much more powerful since the last time we saw each other, it was fascinating to watch, but I can hardly imagine how curious or confused you might be feeling about your powers. You should see him, ask him if there's anything he can teach you. I'm not going anywhere."

Wanda swallows dryly; she knows you are right. She nods, and breaks the distance between your faces, kissing you softly. You smile and break the kiss after a second.

"Please learn how to make those portals first. That way you get back to me as fast as you can." You joke with a certain seriousness, making her laugh with excitement. 

Wanda kisses you again, harder this time, and you sigh but she moves forward until your back hits the wall. She is kissing and kissing you again and again until all the air is out of your lungs, but when you want more, she breaks away. 

Her eyes are dark and her lips puffy, and she gives your bottom lip a gentle tug while one hand stays on your neck, keeping you from chasing her mouth when you want to. 

"Good night, baby." She teases against your lips, her accent thick and her voice husky, and gives you a quick kiss before pulling away completely, casting you a darkened glance before dashing out the door. You almost melt to the floor, feeling your body catch fire, but you just laugh breathlessly to yourself, running a hand over your face to calm your own heartbeat.

–//–

Yelena wanted to visit Natasha's grave before she left, so the next day the three of you got up early and drove after breakfast to the city cemetery.

It wasn't a pleasant trip, but you felt less worse having Wanda's hand in yours on the way.

Fanny ran around, and the redhead gave you a kiss on the cheek before going after the dog.

Yelena cleaned up some of the grave, pushing a few decorations away before kneeling down on the side. She whistled and you blinked in confusion.

"What's that?" You asked feeling your heart racing in your chest. Yelena raised her eyes to you, each hand on the side of the stone.

"What?"

"This noise you made."

She giggles. "It's our secret whistle, Y/N. A shame you don't remember it since you invented it."

You swallow dryly, blinking back a few tears. A memory formed in your head, three little girls running around in a backyard. The oldest one suggests they play hide and seek, but the smallest one is scared of getting lost.

"Don't worry, if you get scared, just whistle like this and we'll find you." You're the one who says it before you demonstrate. Yelena and Nat try a few times until they succeed. "See, it's easy. Now whenever we need, just make that noise and we'll find each other."

Yelena's touch on your shoulder made you blink out of the memory, startling yourself a little. She looked at you curiously.

"Is everything okay?" She asked. You sniffled softly, but forced a smile, moving your arm to hug her from the side.

"It will be." You say.

Yelena leaves before dinner. She hugs you tight and puts Fanny in the back seat. Wanda got the ticket too and goes in the passenger seat after kissing your face several times and then your mouth, intense and passionate until Yelena makes a disgusting noise from the steering wheel and you break down laughing.

She promises to call you every day.

She stays away until Christmas, which is when Yelena calls and says she is going to spend the holidays with Clint Barton and a girl she seems to like. You wish her happy holidays and call Bucky and Sam as well.

Wanda doesn't call you every day, but she texts you whenever possible. Some days she is busier than others, but you know that she is learning to be a much more powerful witch than before just by the little demonstrations she makes in video calls. Sometimes she falls asleep on the phone with you, and your heart races in your chest to hear her breathing.

You work on the house renovation. The empty room becomes a library, and many of the books in there are from the street fair, ranging from occultism to quantum physics - it is a gift to Wanda, and there are many empty shelves for her to put hers on. The third room is for guests, but you can't help thinking that maybe one day it will belong to someone else. You move your studies to the attic, it's better than leaving Natasha's things in boxes.

Christmas, you are thinking of going into town to see the lights, but just as you consider getting up from your armchair, another kind of bright light is opening in the middle of the room.

Wanda stumbles out of the magic portal with little class, muttering to herself as someone on the other side says she needs to improve her concentration, but the redhead just nods in thanks before the magic closes. You give her half a second before you are jumping on top of her, hugging her so tightly that you lift her in the air.

She laughs in your grip, dropping her bag as she hugs you back.

"Merry Christmas, darling!" She says contentedly. "I think you missed me."

You laugh too and break the embrace to kiss her. It was supposed to be sweet, but as soon as she kisses you back, you are melting against her.  

You stumble into an affected gasp, and Wanda shudders as she feels your tongue slide into hers. 

She wants to say that she missed you as much as you missed hers, and pour out all the news, but all she can think about is the feel of your hands on her hips, squeezing gently as your lips move together.

You sigh against her lips as you pause for breath, and she swallows dryly at the sight of your fully dilated pupils.

"Hi." You greet hoarsely, and she smiles.

" Hey." She says bringing her hands to your neck. "Take me upstairs." She asks brushing her lips against yours, and you gasp, squeezing her waist.

"We don't have to." You remind her in a gasping whisper, finding it hard to keep your eyes open. "W-we should talk, and catch up. And we don't have to..."

"We'll do all that." Wanda assures rubbing the back of your neck with one of her hands. "We can go see the Christmas lights and have hot drinks while you tell me how you've been and I'll tell you about magic. But right now baby, I want to kiss you and I don't want to stop."

You nod and break the distance between your mouths again. It's better than before because Wanda slides her tongue against yours with intent. She doesn't wait for the room, however, and you struggle between panting whispers and curious hands, and at some point, you trip over her purse and fall onto the couch. Despite the muffled giggles, she kisses you until it's too hot to wear clothes. You're not complaining.

--//--

A/N: A little idea that came to me coming from a series I never finished where Reader was the middle sister, and helping Natasha take down the Red Room after Civil War. In this one we have White Vision being reactivated during the Blip, because Reader took care of everything, I don't know if anyone will be interested in that little fact, but there it is. Let me know what you think, I think until the release of MOM, this will be my last fic here. After this movie I'll probably just write multiverse stuff and order magic because I have a soft spot for soulmates.

[thebisexualdogdad]

So fic where Daisy’s brother that was taken in by May. It’s been a few weeks into being on the bus and he gets hurt on mission. And May never leaves his side as he recovers. And she fusses over him like she used to.

You should have known what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to join Coulson's team alongside May, your mom.

She was always protective over you but you had hoped she would treat you less like her son and more like a fellow agent.

But that all went out the window when you got shot on a mission.

You woke up in pain, your side all bandaged over a sewn up bullet hole.

"Damn what happened," you groan trying to sit up but May puts her hand on your shoulder to lay you back down.

"Y/N take it easy, you were shot," she explains.

"Mom I'm okay," you say but you notice a look of surprise on May's face, "what's wrong?"

"Nothing it's just… that's the first time you've called me mom since we got on the bus three months ago," she says.

"Well in my defense it'd be a little embarrassing to call a superior agent mom in front of the whole team," you joke.

"I understand that," she smiles.

Skye comes into the med bay and is so relieved to see you awake, "oh thank God you're okay, we were so worried about you."

"I'm all good," you assure her.

May looks between you and Skye like she's hiding something but you're in too much pain to question it though it's not the first time you've picked up on odd behavior from her.

"I'm gonna go tell everyone you're awake, Jemma will probably want to take a look at your wound and run some tests," Skye says.

"Can you ask her to save the doctor stuff for later, I just want to rest right now," you tell her.

"Will do, May you want to go get caught up on the next mission?" Skye asks, "we just landed in Spain."

"You guys don't need me, I'm going to stay on board and take care of Y/N," May informs her.

"Mom," you sigh.

"You've been shot Y/N I'm not going anywhere," she says sternly.

"Huh, it's kind of weird hearing you call her mom," Skye chuckles before leaving the med bay.

You do some more arguing while May helps you back to your bunk to rest but of course you didn't win that battle.

The next few days the team is dealing with a lead on the clairvoyant in Madrid meanwhile May has not left your side.

If there was enough space in your bunk for her she'd be in it with you but instead sets up a cot outside your door to be there for whatever you need, even if it's for something as easy as getting yourself a soda.

Day four in Spain and it's just you and May on the bus, your door opens and she hands you a grilled cheese cut into triangles.

"Just like when I was a kid," you laugh.

"You remember how you used to refuse to eat any sort of sandwich unless I cut it into triangles?" She chuckles, "and I also had to cut off the crusts until you were twelve."

"Yeah I guess I didn't make it easy on you being a single mom," you smile, "sorry about that."

"I wouldn't trade any of it for the world," she says, kissing the top of your head.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"Well it's just… I noticed you… tend to act weird around Skye… I know Coulson found out her parents were in Shield… did you know them?"

May gulps, she was not ready to have this conversation.

How was she supposed to tell you that yes she knew of Skye's parents oh and that also she was not your birth mother.

How was she supposed to tell you that you were in fact Skye's biological brother.

"You should have tomato soup to go with that grilled cheese, you want tomato soup?" She asks, trying to change the subject.

"Mom," you say.

"Not today Y/N okay, one day I'll tell you just not today."

You'd get the truth out of her soon enough but today would not be that day, today she was just your over-doting mother.

[askauradonprep]

Uhh, you mentioned in a post a while back - like, 25 march 2021? ish? (lol, not me going through all your posts ever) - that you've accidentally joined cults before, and I wanted to ask about the signs? Since, as far as I'm aware, no one in my family has been in one and I want to know what to avoid/be wary of? Because I DO want to keep myself, my family and my friend safe from anything I can, so any infor/help would be appreciated!

Okay, first of all, never 'not' about going through my posts. I love when people do that! Even aside from the 'happy chemical boost', I like seeing what you guys enjoy when I post. The reason I have fifteen million posts about Huma is because people liked and reblogged those posts and that spurred more head canon creation. Engage with the posts you wanna see on my blog.

Now, for the actual reason you wrote -

I'm gonna start by saying my experience with cults are probably not the kind you're thinking of. One was when I was like...six. My babysitter was telling my mom and posting flyers at school about an art camp that rented a room at her church. Well, surprise, turned out to be a cult that brought us to the auditorium and lit fires and made us sing hymns and come and pray in front of the fire before they brought us back like five minutes before pick up time and gave us 'crafts' like 'dump glitter on a rock so you can tell your parents you did art today'. Well, I was TERRIFIED of fire and so I was extremely quiet when I got home. My mom noticed and my friend told her what happened at camp. She LOST IT. So did our school principal actually - he was going around tearing down flyers himself the next day. My poor babysitter was horrified - this wasn't her actual church putting on the camp, just some group that rented the room and she had no idea what was going to happen. So that was cult number one.

The next one was secular and primarily online but it was still abusive and harmful like, say, Scientology. People still have some lingering health problems from shit the leader made them do. I'm being vague on the details because the leader's still around and is known to trawl online to find mentions of himself or his cults and I'd really rather he not know who I am. I was only there for a month or two before I realized the group wasn't what I thought it was (it presented itself as a fan-space with a lot of the cult stuff happening behind 'closed doors' so to speak. I wasn't privy to a lot of that but I saw the effects on everyone else and it tipped my 'y'all are weird' alarms).

One of my friends is also a cult survivor and this is the test she uses. It was originally based around harmful Alcoholics Anonymous practices, but it's useful for identifying habits in a cult. https://www.orange-papers.mx/orange-cult_q0.html

Take Back Your Life: Recovering from Cults and Abusive Relationships by Janja Lalich and Madeline Tobias is pretty good too, according to her.

Also - Leah Remini. Look into what she says about Scientology. LOTS of good stuff about escaping scary, no shit, 'people who try to leave disappear sometimes' cults.

Now, MY advice?

Is there a leader of a defined group who is either somehow Specially Capable, whether it's a divine connection, psychic abilities, or just really really profound Super Duper Special insight into people? Are they always always right and they (or their followers) get super defensive if they're questioned or caught out lying? Red flag.

Are you free to leave the group without there being totally unreasonable responses like being treated as a totally horrible person forever or losing your whole community? If not, that too is a red flag.

LOTS AND LOTS of abuse tactics like gaslighting, 'bread crumbs' where they drop little hints and lay groundwork for believing things (like say, talking about believing in the possibility of life on other planets (something lots of reasonable people believe in) and talking a lot about New Age stuff people believe and slowly ramping up 'coincidences' until the target takes the risk of going 'OMG you're an alien'. This is how you get cults believing their leader is a Divine Alien. "Well I'd never believe that" - Well, sure, probably not at first. Give it a couple months getting softened and softened up until YOU take the risk of sounding like a weirdo instead of the leader), emotional abuse, intentionally putting you in dangerous or emotionally heightened situation with no warning so you're easier to control, lots of wearing down self esteem, sabotaging other relationships, isolation, 'us against the world' crap, etc.

BRAINWASHING TECHNIQUES. Sleep deprivation is really common, especially if the leader and others get crabby if you try to get a break and go to bed. Even if they're not though, they might still be trying to keep you awake as much as possible so you're less likely to think through the lies (and there's ALWAYS lies upon lies upon lies - or at least bullshit upon bullshit upon bullshit, in the event the leader really believes their own Kool-Aid.). Again, isolation, absolute obedience, some sort of punishment for failing like physical abuse or isolation, etc. If they can use their worldview or framework to totally reframe your identity on their terms, that's one way they can do it (like if you complain about sleep deprivation and they go 'Oh, don't worry, it's normal for aliens, you'll adjust eventually'. Y'know, because you found them as an alien so you're totally one too, you Cool and Clever so and so. Oh but don't tell anybody else outside the group or you'll end up in a lab somewhere). LOTS AND LOTS of guilt trips and again, gaslighting. This isn't all of the tricks but they're the ones I'm thinking of off the top of my head.

Whataboutism - like, sure, I burned half your stuff when you fell asleep on me, but I didn't hit you so this TOTALLY isn't a cult. Or, hey, I don't make you pray, just ~meditate~ so it's not a cult. Those religious ones, they're the cult.

They always always always need more from you for the group. More money, more time, more devotion, etc. Nothing's ever good enough. Oh, but if the leader gets bored of you and moves onto someone else and pushes you away, it just sucks to suck. Never mind the fact they've trained you to build your life and self worth around them. Again, sucks to suck.

EVERYTHING has to be on the leader's terms. It's the Leader Show, all the fucking time.

If all of this is sounding like 'abuse, but make it religious/otherwise small, enclosed group dynamics', then ding ding ding! We have a winner. You're absolutely right.

If you're reading this and going 'oh my god, I think I might be in a cult', first - try not to beat yourself up. You're NEVER too smart/savvy/mean/untrusting/etc. to get snowed. In fact, the more you believe that, the more susceptible you are. Arrogance is absolutely a vulnerability cult leaders use too. Next, try to figure out ways to build up resources to GET OUT. If the cult leader and your other members do not live with you, this is a lot easier. If not, try to look into Leah Remini or others who've escaped cults and see what they did. I specify Leah Remini and other Scientologists because even among cults, Scientology is NOTORIOUSLY hard and dangerous to leave. You basically need a lawyer to do it. They'll have a lot more advice than I will. The general 'leaving an abusive house' tips stand - try to squirrel away money, important documents, anything you can't stand to lose or leave behind because it might not be possible to get it back once you leave. Don't tell anyone ahead of time you're leaving. Try to find a therapist with cult deprogramming experience. I'm sorry, I don't have many specific tips here. Due to the nature of the cults I was in, I never had much difficulty leaving. My friend who left was basically taken home by her mother "just for a few days" and by the time those days were over, she was ready to leave and told the leader she wasn't coming back. She'd already taken most, if not all, her meaningful possessions with her (and the leader was living with people who weren't in the cult so they could always help her get any other personal items back via mail or whatever).

If someone you love is in a cult, try to follow the 'friend in an abusive relationship' playbook. Voice your concerns gently and carefully, don't argue when they push back, and try to be there for them as much as you can. Cult leaders THRIVE on isolating their followers so it's crucial not to let them cut you off from your loved one as much as is possible. Recognize there will be times you're mad at your loved one or burned out, but try to keep present as much as you can. Don't call the police unless it's EXTREME MEASURES time like they're in actual, physical danger. When you're with your loved one, try to provide them as much autonomy and support for their self worth as you can. Ultimately, your loved one will have to realize the cult is a problem on their own. Sometimes the bullshit builds so much you get to the point you just....cannot swallow one more piece of it and the next bit blows it all down. That's when you really need to be there.

Again, I'm not an expert here and I've never had to leave from somewhere imminently physically dangerous, so if you'd like, here are some more resources: https://www.goodreads.com/list/tag/cults. I particularly recommend the cult survivors list.

https://freedomofmind.com/cult-mind-control/bite-model/ - The BITE model is great too. 

And above all remember that not all cults are mystical, and not all of them are religious. A lot of them front like fan pages or multi-level marketing schemes (LOOKING AT *YOU* DOTERRA) so just...keep your eyes open.

[nessaxc]

___________________________________

7 Oikawa-Filled Minutes in Heaven || Oikawa Tooru

You meet Oikawa at a party that your friend dragged you along to, and it's hosted by Hinata Shoyou.

~ Words: 4.2k

~ NSFW 18+

___________________________________

You were never one to go to parties. You didn't mind the going out. In fact, you liked going out more than enough. You just didn't like going to parties. You learned from your friends everything you needed to know about parties, and their stories discouraged you to say the least. You didn't want to get in any forms of trouble, and you preferred staying in the comfort of your own home, snuggling up to your bed sheets and watching Netflix until the sun rose while snacking on whatever you could get your hands on.

That's why you're not entirely sure why you're even at a party right now. You were relaxing at your house until your best friend barged in to your house to drop a bomb. She was begging you to come to this party that the beautiful Hinata Shoyou was hosting, if it had been anyone else, it would have been a different story. But the truth was that, your friend was determined on dragging you to the party whether you liked it or not.

So there you were at the door entrance, staring wide eyed at everything around you. It was just as you thought it would be. The music was too loud for your taste, everyone was dancing around like fools, drinking until they passed out, tripping and falling over themselves. People were invading your personal space bubble, trying to talk to you, and to this, you flashed them an awkward smile, and escaped from them thanks to the crowd. At the corner of the room, you spotted the stoners doing their thing. You checked around you to see if anyone saw or cared, but apparently no one did and acted like it was a normal thing. All of a sudden, someone pushed you by the shoulder while passing by, and you tried to glare at whoever it was. But when you saw that it was a drunk couple making out sloppily, you decided to ignore them.

You felt like you were the odd one out. What were you supposed to be doing anyways? People around you danced enthusiastically, bobbing their heads up and down and waving their arms in the air. Should you dance along too? You weren't sure if that's what you wanted to do. On a side note, you noticed your best friend had ditched you. Great. So much for not being alone.

Feeling relieved when you saw the snack bar, you made your way there. At first, it was hard for you to move in the crowd of people. But when you swayed your hips and danced your way around the dancing floor, it became easier. You finally smiled genuinely for the first time that night, and hurriedly grabbed a plate to eat.

As you ate your food, you paid little attention to what you were drinking. You hadn't realize the handsome boy next to you placed it there for you.

"I saw you dancing out there," the boy said with a charming smile, causing you to choke a little in surprise. The handsome boy chuckled at your reaction and waited for your response, "you've got moves," he added. "I'd like to see what else you can do."

After finally recovering yourself, you looked at him. "Excuse me?" you asked. It wasn't that you didn't hear him. You heard him, all right. But it caught you off guard because no one ever complimented your dancing skills before. Besides, it came from a really cute guy, but you couldn't see him as clearly as you would have liked because of the terrible lightning, though even in the dark, you could tell he was really beautiful.

"I’m Oikawa, by the way, Oikawa Tooru," he tucked the strand of his brown hair that strayed in front of his face, flashing you a wink with his seductive smile to match.

"Y/N!" you called out so he could hear you, and he only laughed, so you weren't sure if he heard you or not.

"Wanna dance?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

You laughed in response to his question, shaking your head before you spoke, "What? No!" you sputtered, your cheeks turning bright red.

"C'mon, you know you want to, it'll be fun!" he persisted, not taking no for an answer. He grabbed your hand and led you back to the dance floor.

Oikawa started to dance, motioning you over to join him. When he received no reaction, he laughed out laugh, making you blush more unknowingly. Suddenly feeling flustered, you started to dance slowly by swaying your hips again, feeling the rhythm take over your body. You hadn't notice how his eyes were suddenly glued to you, but he wasn't the only one. Other people stopped to watch you dance and started to cheer for you. Before you knew it, you were breaking down in front of everyone, having the time of your life.

Someone gave you another drink, beer you assumed, and you chugged it down. One drink led to another additional three drinks, and you becoming almost completely intoxicated by now.

Somewhere along the way, Oikawa lead you somewhere else. It looked like the living room, you weren't sure. Things were looking a little blurry and disfigured in some weird way because of the harsh lights from earlier. Strangely though, you could tell the brown-haired boy before you apart from everything else.

Even stranger, you found yourself to be feeling self conscious of his hands. His hands were bigger than yours, and they made you feel safe. The way he was holding your hand made you feel like he was protective of you, and you found yourself liking it. It made you feel strange, like for some reason your stomach was tingly but it wasn't because you were hungry. It was completely different from that. It was like a mixture of overwhelmed feelings going overload, causing a catastrophe in the end. You weren't sure what to think of it all, but you knew you liked this unfamiliar feeling.

You both sat down in a circle with other people you couldn't recognize or even tell apart, well except for Hinata Shoyou, who was grinning like a mad man. Oikawa had stopped holding your hand when you arrived, and you couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. And it certainly didn't help that he sat across from you. You won't lie; not only did you want to hold his hand a little longer, you wanted to sit next to him.

Hinata stood up from his seat on the couch to announce the game they were going to play.

"The game is called 7 Minutes in Heaven," he said with a curve of his lip, "I'm sure you all know the rules but I'll explain it anyway," he continued, "you spin this bottle and wait for it to stop. To whomever the bottle points to, you have to spend some quality time with the said person for 7 minutes in the closet, right over there," he pointed at the closet with his finger. "Don't be shy, you can do whatever you want in there until the 7 minutes are up," he smiled before sitting back down.

Although you didn't realize it yourself, you suddenly felt a little grateful to be playing this game, even though it was silly. The chances of you spinning the bottle, and it landing on a certain boy were low, but not too low. You still wanted to believe it would land on him, though.

"This'll be fun, won't it, Y/N?" he said suddenly as if he just read your thoughts, snapping his head up to look at you, "I knew you'd like it," he winked at you again, and you merely shook your head from embarrassment.

The game started after that. Many people spun the bottle, proceeding to go to the closet and coming out looking like they had the time of their life. Some of them, at least. It almost landed on you once. Luckily, it didn't, and the person that had spun the bottle looked disappointed.

When it was finally your turn, you twirled the bottle hard. You felt nervous for some reason, biting your lower lip as you stared down the bottle. Slowly but surely, the speed of the bottle started to decrease each second it passed. You shut your eyelids tightly, wishing and hoping it landed on a certain someone. Suddenly, everyone started to whistle and chant something incoherent to your ears. You opened your eyes again, and the corners of his lips threatened to tug upward.

It landed on Oikawa.

"Must be my lucky day," he purred once the bottle stopped completely. "this way, m'lady," he said with a smirk. He helped you get up again, and Hinata turned to look at you with a wave and a smile.

"Have fun, you two lovebirds!" he called out with a loud laugh.

A deep shade covered your face as you realized you were holding hands again. When you both entered the closet, a whole new kind of anxiety entered you because this was real, you were really alone with him, and you had to hurry or else the time would be up.

The room fell quiet once the closet door clicked close. You wondered if the others were even breathing outside; it was just you and him, and all you could hear were his soft breaths, close enough to make you shiver.

He was the first to speak, his voice effectively jolting you from your thoughts. "So, this is the part where we kiss, isn't it?" he said with a playful smile.

"Yeah," you whispered, "I guess so," you acted like if it wasn't that big of a deal when it was. He took a step toward you, and when you lifted your head, your nose bumped into his, making him chuckle quietly. You felt your stomach tighten and like your head was going to beat right out of your chest.

"Come a little closer," he whispered, his voice hoarse as he urged you closer to him. You did exactly as you were asked, and you couldn't find your voice. You looked back up at him, into those intense eyes, and all you could do was grip at the material of his shirt where your hands had fallen to his back. He wavered a little, his expression unreadable to you, a mix of failing self-control, longing, and desperation.

He tilted his head, and moved forward until he could hear the soft hitch in your breath, feel it tickle your lips. He pressed his lips to yours with a certain finality, and even though you just met him, it felt like you had been waiting for this kiss forever. He lingered there for a moment, letting his lips slowly fall open, before pressing a second, more deliberate kiss.

He faltered, warm breath pooling against your lips. You felt like time had stopped, your only reassurance the frantic beating of your heart. He brought his hands to the side of your face, his fingers questioningly tracing the soft skin there. The touch sent a pleasant shiver across your skin, making you inch closer to his warm body. He let his tongue flick out against your lips, earning a sweet little gasp that made you smirk. He gripped your face more tightly and you eagerly parted your lips for him. He groaned quietly as your tongues met, one of his hands slowly fell to your waist, and he dug his fingers into your hip.

When you two parted for air, you shared a knowing look. You both knew you didn't have a lot of time so you might as well make the most of it. Suddenly, you reached down and fumbled with his button and zipper until they are both undone, tugging them down to his ankles, and you could hear his breath coming in shaky little gasps when you hooked your fingers into the tight band of his underwear, yanking them until they joined his pants, and he uttered a pleased little sound in the back of his throat.

"You don't waste any time, do you?" he teased, chuckling. You met his member at eye-level, and you couldn't help but give him a quick glance, the smirk on his face only urging you on. He leaned his body forward so that it was stretched over your kneeling form, palms pressed firmly against the wall behind your head. His member hadn't been touched but it was heavy with need.

You leaned in, ducking your head to catch the tip of his member on your bottom lip, your breath was hot, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to jerk forward into your mouth without warning. He raised onto his tiptoes, tilting his hips forward to press himself between your lips, and your mouth was so wide, warm and open. He was so thick and you couldn't think about anything else other than how badly you needed him to fill your mouth. You emitted a whine in the back of your throat when the stretch started.

"Just like that, take me," he said, his voice breathless and straining from holding all his body weight on his outstretched arms. You just blinked up at him slowly, eyes gone glassy, and he felt the tension as you forced your jaw wider, hearing the desperate little intakes of air through your flared nostrils.

"You look so fucking beautiful like this, baby," he praised, your eyelashes wet and cheeks hollowed, lips split-red tight around his member. He let out a shaky breath, centering his weight on one hand so he could bring the other to feel out the sharp lines of your jaw.

Your eyelids flutter closed when he brushed his fingers across your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over the line of drool trailing down the corner of your mouth. He couldn't keep his eyes off you and the sounds you made were like music to his ears. His hips stuttered forward a little, leaving you gagging for a second, your eyes flying wide open at that but you took it still.

"Fuck, you like that?" he murmured, you kept a hand on his thigh, keeping him in place. He pressed his hand against your jaw, setting his thumb against his own member and working it into the corner of your mouth, stretching it impossibly wider. His hand, member, and your chin was all covered in spit, and he felt himself get harder from the mere sight of it, staring on the tight pull of your lips, gone blood red like they might split at the seams.

"You're fucking incredible, baby," he breathed, pressing his thumb in further, pulling at the corner of your mouth in a way that had to hurt, but you just breathed through your nose, blinking back a few tears out of your eyes, managing to look smug and pretty even with a member in your mouth.

Someone suddenly whistled through the door, and then there's a fist slamming heavy blows against the door frame. "Seven minutes up, lovebirds!" Hinata called, giggling softly.

He pulled back from the wall, settling back on his feet while you pulled sloppily off his member, wiping at your mouth and eyes with the back of your hand, and you looked at him with a confident smirk.

"I didn't even realize that we were timed for a moment there," he chuckled, "so, was it everything you were hoping for?" he asked, teasing, even while he winced slightly at the feeling of shoving his still-hard member back in his pants.

"I sort of hoped you'd come in my mouth," you said, voice wrecked, shrugging your shoulders loosely, and it startled a laugh out of him.

"Is that right?" he questioned with another laugh. He fixed his pants back up before you both slipped out from the heated closet.

Hinata smirked when you both joined them and returned to your seats. He leaned in to whisper, "What happened in there? He looks like he had a hell of a time," he snickered.

You shook your head, your cheeks flushed with a deep red, "No, what happens in the closet stays in there!" you told him, and he only laughed in response.

The game continued on, but you found yourself not paying attention to anything that was happening because all you could think about how you sucked off Oikawa in that same closet everyone was going into. Obviously he couldn't stop thinking about it either because he was staring at you from across the room, his eyes practically undressing each article of your clothing. You both couldn't keep your eyes off one another.

Suddenly, you stood up and said, "I have to go use the bathroom."

"Okay, hurry back," Hinata winked at you as you made your way out of the room to head for the bathroom. You washed your face with both hands to get rid of the residue of the saliva that trailed down, heaving a soft sigh of relief after you finished. When you opened your eyes, you saw Oikawa standing in the mirror with a smirk.

"Miss me, princess?" he asked, and you whipped your head back to look at him. "You just can't get enough of me huh? Had to sneak off so I could take you here, huh?" he looked around the bathroom before he turned back to you, grinning wide.

"Well we weren't finished," you said, "and I still have to make you come," you told him. You wondered if that alcohol awakened this inner seductive nature in you or if it was just Oikawa’s charm that brought out your wild side, but either way you didn't care to know, you just wanted him to take you.

"That's exactly why I'm here," he chuckled. He started nuzzling into your neck with a satisfied smirk as he moved in close to your body until you could feel the cold porcelain press against your thighs. Shivers rolled down your spine as he pressed closer, a finger trailing between your folds through your panties underneath your dress. He pushed your panties down until they reached your ankles, and then he sank a long finger inside you, growling low in your ear as you moaned. His hand came down on your upper back, leaning over the sink you had been washing your face at. He started stroking your ass with a hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

"You're so nice and wet for me," he purred into your ear, his voice raspy. He leaned his head down to give your throat a gentle nibble that sent a jolt through you, making you gasp. You both watched each other in the mirror, his eyes locking onto yours as he nipped and nibbled along the column of your throat. He chuckled, raising himself off of your body, and slowly removed the finger from you with a long upward drag of your clit.

His hands found your waist and his eyes bored into yours when you kicked aside your panties. You quickly undid his pants again so that they pooled around his ankles.

"Ready for me, baby?" he asked, and you nodded your head fervently. With a wide, proud stance, he thrust into you in a long, smooth motion. The feeling of his thick, ridged member sliding into you, stretching you, was indescribable. His rough hips collided with a loud slap as he bottomed out, pressing his groin harshly into your own to ensure he was as deep as could be.

"Shit," he growled, drawing in a deep breath as he took you. Just as you tried to speak, he began to thrust, slow and steady thrusts. You gasped as you held onto the faucet of the sink, lips falling slack and eyes fluttering. His mandibles rose in an unabashed sign of amusement.

"Oh, Tooru!" you cried out, your head drooping down as you moved your hips backwards into his. His face contorted in a snarl in the mirror, the needle sharp teeth of his reflection glinting at you.

"Now this time, we can come, and we can do it together," he said, leaning over your back to murmur in your ear. He slowly took the side of your throat in his teeth then, flicking his tongue against the soft skin. His slightly muffled, rumbling voice was too much for you, only serving to make you aware of your combined fluids trickling down your upper thighs.

He pulled away then, giving a last teasing lick to your throat. There was a wide smirk on his face as he stared at your dazed face in the mirror. His hands snaked under to circle your nipples, his light pinches making you press yourself into his touch. He slipped them down to your waist and held tight, his thumbs digging into the small of your back.

You moaned when he continued to grind himself into you, his large size kept your g-spot stimulated with each thrust of his hips, the tip of his member echoing his movements deep inside of you. But you needed more.

"Please, keep going," you whined, barely managing to hold yourself up against the sink. It seemed like your body had been consolidated solely into your burning sex; it was the only thing you could feel. A loud rumble was audible from his chest as his thrusts became more demanding.

"Louder," he commanded. His eyes, still watching you intently in the mirror, had long assumed that near completely black color when he was aroused beyond belief. "I want you to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you. How do you want me to fuck you?" he asked as he panted heavily against your ear.

"Please, Tooru," you begged, not caring if the people outside could hear you, "I want you to fuck me hard. Fuck me hard and fast because I want to feel you for the rest of the day."

He cursed under his breath, and he began to thrust in and out of you at a wild pace just as you asked. You sobbed in relief as he gave you what you needed. Him, just him, hard and fast. The sounds of his flesh slapping against your softer flesh was almost as hot as the sounds of his low growls.

He was overwhelming you with pleasure, his hands tightening their grip around your hips as he slammed against you repeatedly. Your body began twitching violently as he fucked you senseless. You came quickly with a loud gasp around him, your flesh rippling frantically from him as he paused to savor the sensations around his length. He purred in satisfaction when you came down from your high, watching the lingering bliss on your face in the mirror.

"You're so tight and wet. You wanted me so badly, didn't you?" he asked, restarting his punishing rhythm.

"Yes," you said, fighting the urge to bite your lower lip, "so badly, Tooru."

His eyes flashed in the mirror and he thrust harder than before, forcing the air out of you as you rose onto the tips of your toes. Your rear was cushioned well by the concave of his hips as you slowly lowered onto the soles of your feet, still moaning low in your throat at the feeling. He resumed his rapid pace, choosing to chase his own climax by the throbbing his member was doing inside of you.

"Good, now do you want me to cum inside you? Do you want me to fill you up?" he asked around a pant.

"Yes, yes, I want it," you pleaded softly.

With a couple more thrusts, he sank flush for the final time. He came with a rumbling groan, his hands digging painfully into your waist. His member jerked inside you as his thick fluids spurted into you, and his head was rested upon your shoulder as he took in heavy breaths.

You two stayed like that for a couple of moments until you heard Hinata yelling outside the door, "I know you two are fucking in there! Get out of there, now!" he shouted, his voice playful and giggly.

You both laughed upon hearing that and fixed yourselves back up for the second time. He reached his hand out for you to take and you instantly held it in yours.

"Let's go see what those bozos are up to now," he laughed as you both left the bathroom. You rejoined the circle in the living room, and you didn't care how the rest of the night went because you already had the time of your life, thanks to a certain boy. You had no idea that you'd have so much fun tonight, so you were surely going to thank the friend that disappeared on you for doing you such a huge favor.

Hinata pointed two of his fingers in the direction of you and Oikawa.

"I'm keeping my eye on you slippery lovebirds!" he exclaimed, and you both turned to each other to laugh at that. That was probably a smart decision too, because Oikawa was already giving you a look like he wanted to leave with you, again.

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