#it was like we’re the strongest dissolving into he’s the strongest

[raytm]

I have to talk about how geto feels about satoru’s growth in disparity to his own ???

[cutetteaa]

A lazy morning with Gojo

Gojo x reader - fluff ♡ warnings: none!

The cold breeze of the chilly November air drifted softly through your shared apartment. The light trickled in through the curtains, casting a soft glow into the room. You shifted around in your shared bed, almost getting up but before you even had a moment to register the sunlight hitting your face, a pair of warm arms pulled you in and tightened around you, pulling you back into bed.

“Mmm… five more minutes” Gojo mumbled, his voice muffled against the back of your neck.

“Gojo, it’s already 10am” you chuckled, wriggling to turn around in his arms, now facing him.

Satoru had messy hair and heavy eyelids as he blinked back at you, his crystal-blue eyes, gave you a look with a pouting expression like he was playfully annoyed at being woken up from an amazing nights rest. His hair was sticking up in every direction, one side smushed and flat from where his head laid all night on the pillow. There was a slight pout on his lips that made him look like a little kid who got old no to eating sweets before dinner, a rare sight for the strongest sorcerer. You couldn’t help but smile at his precious face.

“Oh, come on. 10am on a Sunday? We’re just getting started” he whined, snuggling closer to you. “The world can wait just a little longer for its protector.”

You rolled your eyes and giggled, but there was definitely no way you were leaving the bed just yet. Especially not with Satoru, who seemed determined to pull you back down each time you tried to get up. He wrapped himself around you, pulling the blanket higher and sighing contently.

After a moment, you gave in, settling against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat—a steady, comforting rhythm that somehow reminded you of all the things he was outside of your warm bed and loving grasp, a sorcerer who risked his life for his students, the safety of the world, and you. Satoru, your Satoru, was warm, soft, and surprisingly needy on this quiet morning.

“Y’know, you never let yourself just be lazy like this,” you teased, tracing lazy circles on his chest.

He smirked. “Not true. I’m lazy all the time. I just… pick my moments.”

“Sure, right,” you snorted, poking him lightly in the side, earning a playful yelp. “Your poor students probably have a different perspective.”

“Hey! my teaching style is very hands-off. Character-building,” he defended, looking smug.

The two of you dissolved into quiet laughter, the sound filling the small, now sunlit room. The tension of the past week, the weight of his responsibilities, all of it seemed to disappear in these moments.

As you laid there, your hand intertwined with his, he suddenly leaned over, pressing a soft kiss onto your forehead. His lips lingered there, just long enough for you to feel the affection that words sometimes failed to convey.

“I’m glad we have days like this,” he murmured.

You looked up, meeting his eyes—those endless, loving eyes that held so much more than what he often let others see.

“Me too, Satoru,” you replied softly, smiling and caressing his cheek, he nuzzled into it. “Even if they don’t happen nearly as often as I’d like.”

“Guess I’ll just have to keep you all to myself a little longer, then,” he said, his voice low and playful.

And with that, he pulled you into his arms again, ready to steal a few more moments, just the two of you, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of a lazy Sunday morning together.

[happybird16]

drabble that suddenly had to come out of me no matter what

Aot finale spoilers, talks of scars and wounds, self-doubt

“Do they ever hurt?” you ask softly, meeting his soft silvery eye with yours.

Levi shrugs unevenly in response, replying vaguely, “Sometimes I get phantom pains. Like they’re still there.”

Gently clasping his hand between yours, you bring his fingers to your lips, tenderly kissing all the little calluses and even the smooth, flawless skin at the tip of each of his fingers. You appreciate every little white knick of a healed scar, savoring the unique texture and history they hold. His nails are perfectly trimmed, and the long digits are almost bony, with knuckles jutting out from his skin and veins visible in trailing blue lines along his palm, resembling twisting rivers.

One by one, you kiss each and every finger until you reach the uneven stubs where his index and pointer fingers used to be. The area is still flushed a dark, upsetting red that makes your chest ache. Despite the passing years, the skin remains rough and sore-looking. Carefully, you lean forward, eyes locked to his. You hear his breath hitch as you oh-so-carefully press the softest of kisses to the stub of his index finger.

“D-don’t,” he breathes, shifting slightly in his seat in embarrassment. Something lingers in the soft grey-blue of his eye, something like embarrassment and shame. “They’re ugly.”

“They’re not,” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his shorn digit. “You’re beautiful, remember? No matter what.”

Levi takes a long, shuddered breath, his shoulders heaving with the strength of his sigh. It’s almost like he deflates a bit, the metal of his wheelchair creaking loudly as his feet shift. His face twists, the large now-mostly-white scar standing out against the pale skin of his cheek. His deadened eye can still move, instinctively tilting up to match the other as his eyes meet yours. “’m not,” he mutters quietly, hissing in pain as he shifts his injured knee. “I- I’m so weak now,” he confesses, his voice laced with frustration and pain.

It’s something he’s complained about quite a few times since the end of the final battle. Not only did he sustain injuries, but the end of Ymir’s curse had also extinguished the Ackerman strength flowing through his veins. He has mentioned feeling empty and hollow, almost fragile in comparison. His slower healing is evident from the still reddened skin of his mangled fingers.

Rising up from your knees, you press a quick kiss to the scar along his cheek. “We’re free now,” you assure him earnestly. “It’s a whole new world. We’re not soldiers anymore, and you don’t have to bear the burden of being the strongest. You have already proven your worth countless times.”

As you speak, your fingertips gently brush back the length of his bangs, exposing his forehead. With utmost care, you place another soft kiss right between his eyebrows, dissolving the tension held there. Then another. And another. Each kiss conveys a message of love and acceptance, a reminder that his worth extends far beyond physical strength.

Levi’s breath hitches again, this time from a mixture of relief and vulnerability. The sound is a bit wet, and there’s a telling moisture welling in the corners of his eyes. He struggles to find the words to respond, mouth opening and closing several times as his shoulders stiffen once again. His eyes, one vibrant and the other dulled by past wounds, seek yours, their depths reflecting the emotions he struggles to express.

“‘m not,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with a mix of pain and self-doubt. The fingers of his free hand instinctively reach for his injured knee, a reflex born from habit and discomfort. His voice sounds so small and hollow, “I- I’m broken.”

“No,” the word comes out sharper and louder than you intended, startling the both of you. “No. No you aren’t.” Your hand gently caresses his, providing a sense of comfort and reassurance. “Strength doesn’t define you,” you emphasize, your voice filled with conviction. “And your injuries don't either. I know you feel different now.. powerless.. but you possess a strength that transcends physical abilities. It’s in your resilience, your compassion, and the love you carry within you. That strength will always shine through, no matter what.”

A long, shuddered breath escapes Levi’s lips as he absorbs your words. His shoulders, burdened by the weight of his perceived weakness, begin to ease. The metal of his wheelchair creaks as his feet shift unsteadily. He swallows heavily, eyes falling from yours to stare at the fabric of the dark slacks covering his thigh.

Pinching his chin between your fingers, you urge his gaze to meet yours yet again. “We’re building a new life together,” you continue, a hint of playfulness entering your voice. “We’re not soldiers anymore. You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders. Instead, let’s focus on chasing out those rude customers from our little tea shop. And if you ever say anything self-deprecating again, well, I’ll be there to shower you with kisses until you realize just how incredible you are.”

Levi’s lips curve into a small, vulnerable smile, the barriers of self-doubt slowly crumbling away. The moisture in his eyes finally spills over, tracing glistening paths down his cheeks. “You would,” he whispers softly, his voice filled with fondness and amusement.

[ryujnn]

► akuma ﾟ｡ ⋆ is there any room for me?

► chapter summary ﾟ｡ ⋆ the past few days of your life we’re unexpected, yet so much fun. people seem to come a lot in your life… and also leave.

► chapter warnings ﾟ｡ ⋆ nsfw. growing sexual tension. cunnilingus (oral — fem receiving). violence. use of weapons. mentions of blood and wounds. mention of murder.

► note ﾟ｡ ⋆ woah… i realized how much potential this story had and just whipped this up and rereading the whole thing. i missed akuma dearly,,

Dear Mom,

Checking out on the party before it had even started — you’d be shocked with the most recent news. You’re missing out on the fun, you know? All the plans we set out are now in motion. And you’re missing it.

But I’m missing you much more.

So much more.

I have so many questions for you. So many I wished I had asked, but I spent that time crying next to your cooling body. Now I’m left questioning myself.

Mommy, am I strong?

Am I still the strongest?

Even if I don’t feel it?

“R…” You opened your mouth, all of the saliva completely dispersing and leaving you stuck with cotton. The smallest step forward and your husband was grabbing your arm, stopping you. You on the other hand was just too shocked to even care. “Rika? Wh… How’d you know where I lived?”

“I followed you.”

Weird. “Um…” You’re trying to mentally piece together how you were gonna crack this one. “How are you alive? I— They captured you, right? That’s what they said.”

“They didn’t catch me.” Her voice is silky and posh. She’s holding herself with such good demeanor, you wouldn’t be able to tell she struggled half her life. “The woman they captured and killed was not me, yet another one of your father’s previous affairs. She threatened to tell the rest of your family members about his adultery and she was hunted down around the time I fled. They just covered my story up with the poor woman who lost her life.”

That’s absolutely heartbreaking. Not necessarily surprising, though. Your family is sick and twisted.

The metaphorical armor wrapped around you dissolved into the air, brushing past the skin on people’s faces. You felt empathetic towards her now.

“I’m not here to hurt you.” She continues, wary of her surroundings. And your husband. “I’m still alive because of my appearance change. They can’t remember what I look like, at least I pray not. I — I returned this morning. Heard your father’s big fight is soon… he had his beloved batch of boys, huh?”

You shook your head slowly, “Nope. Ryou and I will be fighting.”

It was then when you had actually noticed Rika. She was absolutely alluring. The silence was definitely inviting for you to look at her — to examine her. She had her hair cut to her shoulders, a few strands covering her forehead and bringing attention to her doe eyes. The longer she stood there, it was like watching a child. As if she was caught staying up too late when her parents came home.

She wasn’t threatening at all.

“Oh… congratulations,” Rika responds with a small smile, picking nervously at her fingers. She’s clearly spewing thoughts but there’s no way she could get them out of her mouth. “I’m sure you’ve learned a lot from Himari. You will win and change the trajectory of the clan — I know you can. It’s pretty bad, I don’t want another woman to experience what I… we did.”

All that time she’d been standing in front of you, you had forgotten who Rika actually was. What she had been through — and once it all clicked, you couldn’t stop your feet from moving.

You weren’t staring at a threat, you were staring at a survivor.

Escaping the Shio clan, just the hospital alone at that, with a new born baby and taking care of her all on her own with no experience. Starting fresh with no money, nowhere to live and not knowing anyone — yet managing to be alive and well, with a daughter who is in perfect shape.

The power of women.

“I’m sorry.” Are the only words that left your mouth, kicking your heels off in the midst of your walk before stopping in front of Rika, raising your arms to her shoulders and resting on your chin on her bone. “My mother thought you were a trooper. She loved telling me stories about you. You’re like a folklore.”

She returns the hug, giving you a small squeeze. “Am I?” There’s a slight shake in her voice, but she quickly covered it up with a laugh. “I’d rather the attention be on my princess. She’s what kept me going.” She hasn’t hugged anyone other than her daughter, nor has anyone felt sympathetic enough to acknowledge what she had been through. All of this hits Rika like a truck and she’s fighting back the urge to scream up the past twenty something years.

“Thank you.” Rika whispers.

She knows her daughter is good hands — protected by many people now. She knows she’s protected, too. She’s happy now.

The door clicks as it closes, resting backwards against the wood. You sighed softly, bending down to place your heels next to the door, hearing the bathroom door in front of you open.

“How’d it go?” Gojo asks from inside the bathroom, tossing his towel out and onto the floor.

The towel lands slightly ahead of you, rolling your eyes and walking forward to grab it. “Went okay. We had some wine and talked for a bit, she got tired and I let her sleep in my room.”

“I would be too if I were her,” His voice grows closer, alerting you that he’d be in front of you once you stood up. “I mean, it’s weird, right? I wonder why she came back.”

After folding the towel, you held it to your chest and looked ahead of you. All the breath in your lungs halted, stopping you from answering his questions or even responding.

There Gojo Satoru stood — in almost all of his glory. You’d never seen him like this… this close up. The black muscle shirts he wore around the house definitely didn’t give him this much justice; you can see every ripple, scar and crease on his body and it’s absolutely fantasizing. Natural contour and highlight on his skin — you’re almost folding at the sight.

“Uh…” Your voice is a little shaky, you’re so caught up in trying to pretend you’re not warming up from seeing his bare chest. “Yeah. Me too. It’s… weird.”

Gojo looks up from his hands, catching the stutter and sudden shift in your demeanor. He’s got an eyebrow cocked in confusion until it drops and he’s smirking right down at you. This is cute. He’s never seen you like this and now he’s addicted to it.

Speechless, timid and borderline submissive.

“Got somethin’ on your chin there,” His abrupt words cause you to blink hard, forcing your eyes back up go his face. You’re hot — you’re sure that you’re visibly burning up as well. Gojo takes a step forward, causing you to shuffle in spot and he’s enjoying it. “It’s not polite to stare, you know that.”

You’re trying your damn hardest to think of something witty, but your brain isn’t working. If anything, it’s clouded, and you’re not sure what to say without stuttering.

“I just… I noticed some of those scars on your chest and I wanted t-to, uh… just look at them.”

Verrrry convincing.

“You can touch ‘em, sweetheart.”

And so you obliged, reluctantly. Hesitant movements until your bare palm was against your husband’s skin, raising and lowering the stroke to feel every inch of him. There’s a soft shudder under his breath, specifically whenever your fingers brush against newer marks.

All in all, it’s intimate. He’s biting back the urge to grab you by the shoulders and you’re not too far off from begging for it.

Plus, you’ve only got a week. Right?

“Mark your calendars, request time off, set a reminder, and grab your popcorn — watch the Shio Clan’s Generational fight next week, here in this very room.”

Did you want to die being a virgin? Getting married and completing staying celibate, never being able to tell stories to the Shio women up in… whatever heaven was real. They’d talk your head off and call you a disgrace for not trying something so… sexy.

You can just see it now…

(“We saw you down there, married to that hunk of man. Gojo Satoru, right? How was the sex? Oh.. you didn’t have sex? Kiss him at all? No?! What—”)

The thought of going out without at least knowing if he’s a good kisser is making the hair on your arms stand. Maybe it was the wine? You felt like some horny teenager from the movies you watched.

“Would you touch me like this?” You transitioned to dragging a finger down his chest, digging your nail gently over his belly button and following his happy trail.

Right above his boxers.

Gojo pulls his eyebrows together. Is he dreaming? Is his ears playing tricks on him because he’s been wishing to touch you — praying for a moment like this with you? It’s gotta be a dream.

“You want me to touch you?”

Without thinking twice, your hands reached to the zipper behind you. The noise of it unzipping completely catches Gojo’s attention.

Now it’s Gojo’s turn to goggle. He’s gazing at every inch of your body being exposed as the dress fell further and further, and all of a sudden — it’s harder for him to breathe in. Until the fabric pooled at your feet, he’s blinking a lot slower, not wanting to miss a single second.

Normally you’d be extremely self conscious, bare as a stripper for a man you just previously despised. But something about your husband drinking you in like a bottle on the rocks is making your stomach do flips.

And it’s cartwheeling down to your core.

“It’s…” You began, taking a small step forward. “Not polite to stare, Satoru.”

Your husband chuckles, though his voice sounds a bit lower. Even once his eyes raised from your figure to your very own irises, they were way more hooded than before. He’s drinking you up and not missing a damn drop.

One deep breath, Gojo takes the advantage to close the gap between you both. He leans down just slightly, hovering over your height. He’s looking at you like you’re vulnerable, like he’s got the upmost control of you. And at this moment… you swear he does.

The tension is cutting the air with a butcher knife, absolutely murdering it to the point you both don’t know how to breathe anymore. Basic human actions have become tantalizing and you’d both rather drink each other up.

“I can have this thing off in seconds,” Gojo hooks his finger under your bra, tugging you forward by just the slightest. Watching you trip forward, following his moves, even the bounce of your breasts almost had him rolling his eyes back. “Just need to hear you say it, pretty.”

You don’t realize how pathetic or how fast you nodded your head, practically pleading with your eyes, but once Gojo heard those four words leave your tainted lips, he couldn’t help but oblige.

“Please, take it off,” You whisper, batting your mascara coated eyelashes up to the man before you. “Take it all off.”

And what man would Gojo Satoru be if he didn’t keep his word, especially when you asked so politely. Within those last few seconds, your husband closes the gap between you both by pressing his lips against yours. It wasn’t rough, wasn’t forced or rushed — nothing like the kiss you both shared at your wedding.

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, it was a welcoming kiss. He wasn’t kissing you as if this was your last week on earth, he kissed you as if this was the first day of the rest of your life.

It was intoxicating and addictive, something you never wanted to end.

Once you wrapped your arms around the nape of Gojo’s neck, he reaches down to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you up to his height. Your legs wrapped around his abdomen, securing you around him.

He’s got one hand propped under your ass, holding you up while his other closes the bathroom door behind him, locking it right after.

Whaaaats goin on?

Times moving faster now that you’re having fun, that’s always been something you noticed as a child. Even in this moment, when your husband has you sat on the marble of his bathroom’s countertop, popping your bra off with just one hand, exposing your perky nipples to the brisk air around you, time is moving fast.

His soft, pink lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking and gently tugging at it with the sloppiest and nastiest ‘pop!’ you’ve ever heard — time is moving fast.

Gojo settling onto his knees, two skilled and slender fingers pulling your panties down your thighs, your calves, and then unhooking them from your feet. He’s pushing your legs apart, visibly and audibly falling apart at the sight alone of your glistening, pretty pussy. He swears he saw the light shine off of just how wet you were.

“Fuck..” He whispers, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. “This okay? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nod,. You’d be damn to admit it, but something about this approval for consent was… sexy. As if he wants you as bad as you want him. Gojo’s asking you for permission.

“Please do something.” Being so bare and vulnerable, all for the man you hated just months ago, had your back arching in attempts to feel something. Anything.

Now you’re begging? Anything else and he might as well bust in his fresh pair of underwear. Gojo promises he’d be gentle… but all he wants to do is shove his face right between your legs and eat you out like it’s the last thing he’d ever do.

Like it’s the last thing he’d ever taste.

He starts slow, licking from your entrance to that little bud that has you twitching, giving it special attention with extra kisses and tugs from his lips. You’re moaning softly, weary of the guest that had been on the other side of the house — nonetheless — you wanted to prevent waking her up and facing your trenched reality.

Your head tilts back, pooring your posture with the slightest buck of your hips. The way your lips press together, fighting back all the noise that threatened to spill from them, it told your husband everything he needed to know.

He was making you feel good.

His tongue flicked at your sensitive bud faster, and his two skillful fingers plunged in and out of your soaking sex, causing wet noises to echo in the halls of Gojo’s bathroom. It sounded absolutely pornogrophic, something straight off the web. This is every man’s dream.

“Taste amazing, baby.” Gojo mumbles under you, tongue out and flat on your pussy. He’s curling his tongue ever so often, catching your eyes and simply grinning at that expression you have.

The look and the smile was just too much for you. He’s clear of the affect he has on you, he’s bathing in it.

Gojo’s forgotten to control himself and now he’s slurping and sucking, licking and lapping up everything you have to offer. Like he’s a dog. The warm feeling between your legs began to grow out to your thighs and your lower stomach, and the better it felt, the more you wanted to push your husband from between your legs.

Gojo doesn’t seem to let up soon. He’s blowing bubbles with his spit on your clit and using his tongue to spread it around. How slutty would it be to cum for the first time … ever … on your husbands face?

“Mmmf — Satoru…” It was a warning call. Your significantly smaller hand reached forward to grab at his soft, milky white and wet hair. The smallest tug got a noise out of him, snapping him out of his completely pussy drunken state of mind and back up to you. “Think ‘m…,” You chuckle breathlessly. “think I’m about to...”

He chuckles between your legs, pulling away for the slightest second and smiling his pearlies right up at you — with a wet smile. “Give it t’me,” Dipping his head between your legs again, aiming straight for your clit. “Make a fucking mess, sweetheart.”

And like the perfect wife that you are, or tend to be, you give his roots one more tug before using your other to grip beside you, mumbling out a string of praises to the God’s above you, before you, and even the one between your legs. Spasming with Gojo’s head between your legs, that warm feeling snapping out of your stomach and crashing over you like a category four hurricane.

Satoru assists you, rubbing your clit with the fat of his tongue all the while fucking his fingers in and out of you, bettering your high. Slowing his movements once your body began to come down; making it all more pleasurable for you.

There’s no way that just happened.

“Fuck…”

“Damn right.” Gojo chuckles, blowing soft air against your swollen and sensitive pussy. He used his thumb to clean his mouth, popping it in and licking the etcetera from the pad of his finger.

He’s up on his feet, still watching you recover from the only yet best orgasm you’ve ever had in your life. Another quick laugh before he steps forward and cups your soft jaw into his hands.

“That feel good?” He asks, more out of curiosity rather than a boost to his ego.

It was nice seeing him like that. Domestic. Vulnerable. He’s always on his toes and doesn’t ever let anyone in — so this… this was nice.

All you do in return was nod and smile, tossing your arms over his shoulders once more and burying your head into his chest. “Mhm.”

“Let’s go shower then.”

“Up and atom!”

A bold voice, one that wasn’t your husbands, woke you up from your sleep. You stirred lightly, peeking one of your eyes open to not only see one person — but several people standing in your husband’s bedroom.

You remember falling asleep with Gojo resting on your back and your head under the pillow, and now that you’ve reached your arm to locate him; he’s not next to you anymore.

“Where…”

“Mornin’ angel.” There’s that familiar voice. That voice that’s given you comfort and a sense of safety.

Oddly enough, you were okay with it.

You huffed, pushing up from the bed to turn and identify whoever had been in this bedroom so early. It was half the damn school, you could say.

“Time to get up, Y/N!” Panda smiles, two fists sturdy on his hips. “We heard you have a week to experience some fun, so we’re gonna spend the next seven days together!”

Seven days?!

You jump up, completely facing the people in the room. Nanami and Gojo are in the corner, small smiles on their face — this is obviously something they planned… while the students were standing around your bed.

Megumi, Panda, Inumaki and Maki — even the two new students that’s working with Gojo; Itadori and Nobara.

You rub your eyes, brushing your hair behind your ears. “Thanks, guys, but you don’t have to waste a week on me.”

Maki gasp, Inumaki also adding a head shake at your response.

“We’re not wasting a week, Shio—sensei,” Megumi sits on the foot of the bed, sending you a soft look. “Everyone cares about you. We want to make sure you have a nice week.”

Nobara and Itadori share a look. They’ve never seen Megumi act so caring, even if he expressed it with a straight face.

You only had small interactions with Megumi, but considering he didn’t have much family left, everything you did within the span of knowing him meant a lot.

Even if it was bringing him lunch, scolding Gojo for him, helping him inside or outside of school. The small things built up and he can’t imagine seeing anything happen to you.

“Yeah,” Maki is trying to contain her excitement. She’s got her hands behind her back, fighting a smile. “Plus, we’re gonna incorporate fighting into the stuff we’re doing! Building muscles while creating memories.”

This is odd to you, foreign even. You’ve never had someone care about you, cared if you lived or died — and now these people want to give you a week to remember, encouraging you to spend your possibly last week alive wisely, with them, while having as much fun as possible.

You look over to Gojo, who’s got this smile on his face, one that hasn’t budged since he’s seen you wake up in his shirt; and then back to the kids. This is what it feels like to be wanted. Not just by your mother, but by everyone.

Now you’ve got to fight back tears. You haven’t cried since the death of your mother, and the overwhelming feeling of actively being appreciated by people is starting to jab at you.

No crying. Not yet.

You answered all the kids questions, settled all their anxiety and calmed their nerves with a smile. That bright, beaming smile that your mother loved and the one your husband is falling in love with. The smile everyone recognizes; the smile that pops into people’s head when your name is mentioned.

“Thank you guys,” You sit straight up on the bed. “I appreciate it. Let’s have the best week ever, okay?”

All the students smiled and nodded in unison.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

Itadori smiles and throws a fist into the air, “Baseball!” He’s ecstatic, and you could make a wild guess that this was his idea. “That’s okay, right?”

You laugh, reinsuring Itadori once more. “I love baseball, and I’m kinda good at it,” You share a smile with the boy, hearing different reactions at the new information about the sport. “How about after, we come back and have a sleepover?”

That gets another rise. Everyone looks excited, partially for Megumi (he hates sleeping around Itadori) but aside from his little pout, the rest of the students agree to having a night over their teachers house.

Nanami pushes off the wall, clapping his hands together to gather the kids attention. “Okay, let’s give Shio some time to get ready. You all can help me load the bus back up.”

Following instructions, everyone except Gojo trotted out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Now it was silent and homey, resulting in your husband walking over to you with a small grin.

He crawls onto the end of the bed, sitting back on his legs in front of you. “Hi.” One word with his gentle smile and you’re grinning back.

“Hi.” You respond, reaching forward to grab his hands. You fiddled with them nervously, twirling his wedding ring around his finger. “Did you do all of this?”

“Not all. I told them your big fight was next week and they came up with all the ideas, I just found a way to make it all happen.”

You pushed your bottom lip out, climbing up from the duvet to his height, tossing your arms around his neck. This was a feeling Gojo could get used to, one he wanted to feel every moment and every second of his life. He wraps his arms around your waist and snuggles you back.

“Thank you, ‘Toru.”

He grins once more, giving your body a small squeeze. “Don’t thank me yet.”

A baseball game without your brother intervening? Sounds like a plan to you.

There were two separate teams; Your team and Gojo’s. A friendly fire between the couple who had an arranged marriage but is now starting to fall for one another — doesn’t sound scary at all.

You’d assume they’d take baseball seriously, like there was a grand prize at the end, but they weren’t. Everyone was having a good time, playing for experience and to grow, and thankfully there was no jujutsu power allowed.

The entirety of this game you’d been… laughing.

Smiling and laughing at the antics of the children you were working with. Giggling with the other teachers when Gojo grew red over the fact that his team was losing. Even moments like this where a fight needed to be broken up.

“Hold on!” Nobara shoves her hat onto the ground, pointing to the girl in front of her as she made her way over.

Nobara likes a fair game, what she didn’t like was Mai bringing a pitch machine to protect her fresh manicure. Itadori and Panda are the first to get up, walking over to catch Nobara before she gets to Mai. “Kugisaki’s snapped!” They warned. “It’s a free-for-all!”

Considering she was on your team, you followed behind the other students to calm the issue as the adult that you were.

“Alright,” You walk between both girls, facing Nobara to quickly calm her. “You’re a good batter. You can hit these even without machine, let’s just try it, okay?”

Nobara sends another threatening look to Mai before huffing and turning around to walk away. You chase after her, bending down to whisper one more thing into her ear.

“Bet she sucks anyway.” You cup your hands around your mouth so no one else hears what you said but Nobara.

And the game continued peacefully. The pitching machine was ditched after being beaten up by someone (Nobara ‘accidentally’ hit the ball into) and everything was now going fairly.

The energy overall felt like a highschool game, it was fun, quick and a bunch of dirty talk had been spit from one team to the other. Granted, it wasn’t anything harmful. Aside from another student getting swatted upside the head with a ball, the experience was great to you!

And once the sun began to set, everyone declared the game over.

All except one.

“Last bat,” Gojo walks up to you, flipping the bat so that the handle faced you. “I’ll pitch.”

You perused your lips, accepting the bat from him. You’ve never batted in front of anyone, only your mother, considering your brother would always swoop in and take the attention.

It was like you were a child again.

“Okay!” You smile, jumping up once before making your way over to the correct base.

“You got this, Shio-sensei!”

“Beat Gojo-sensei!”

You chuckled under your breath, spreading both legs and tapping the bat onto the home plate. Gojo sends you a look, asking if you’re ready, and you respond with a nod and the prettiest smile he’s ever seen.

The dim of the sky kissing your skin, the smile he’s seen all day is becoming a drug to him and as each second passed, he watched you grow more and more happy. More excited.

That’s until he raises his arm and leg, ready to pitch, and he see’s your face drop. A mix of fear, shock and confusion decorates your face and he no longer sees his happy wife, he doesn’t see a carefree woman bandaging her inner child anymore —

he sees twelve year old you.

He sees the child who’s spotlight got taken from her.

By her bastard of a brother.

Gojo drops the ball and quickly flips his infinity back on. He doesn’t turn around, he knows he’s safe, and he keeps his eyes on you and the students to assure your safety as well.

“Ryou.” Is all your husband says, crossing his arms over his chest. He won’t give him the satisfaction of a look, he’s got more important things on his mind right now.

Your brother laughs behind him, taking a small step beside him. He’s only got his eye on the prize; you. “Hey there, brother-in-law,” Ryou shoves his hands into his pockets. “Think I got her good, huh? Did’ya see her face? She went all…” He mimics your reaction, dramatically frowning and pretending to claw his eyes out.

“Who is that?” You hear one of the students whisper, and then you’re suddenly snapped back into reality.

You sniffle, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans. You’d be stupid to turn your back, but your brother would be much more of an idiot to try to attack you when you’re not looking and your husband’s right beside him.

You turn to face the students, squatting down to catch their attention and block your brother from their view. “He’s not important, okay?” You ask, which they all nodded in return. “He’s a dangerous guy, so Gojo’s going to take you all back inside and then we can get home in time for the sleepover, right?”

You asked Rika to set up the sleepover and pick out some snacks for everyone. You even offered her to invite her daughter since she and the students were around the same age — that way if they decide to stay, she’d have a few friends.

Now, the only plan was to make it home.

Once you pushed up from your feet, you began to make way to your husband. What a fearful sight to see and an awful predicament to be in. You could be killed at any second if it was up to Ryou.

“Go.”

One word that held so much power. You stood just a few steps from your husband, you knew if you got too close that he’d be a superhero.

But this isn’t his battle to fight.

He doesn’t budge whatsoever, he looks at you like you’re playing a joke and even dazzles a smile at you, proving his point further.

He’s not going anywhere without you.

“I mean it, Satoru,” You couldn’t say too much, not without giving away too much information and endangering multiple lives. “Please… let me handle this.”

Now he’s reading you. Gojo frowns his eyebrows before beginning his path to the students. He stops besides you, making sure too keep his eyes on the kids in front of him while you kept track of your brother.

“You don’t die today.”

You couldn’t help but smile slowly, “Yes sir.”

The crucial next seconds of silence could’ve been your cause of death, but once the gate to the kids shut closed and you knew the people you loved and cared for were behind protection.

You didn’t hesitate.

You reached your arm back, looking over to the gate once more and starting a fire at it. It wasn’t too big that they couldn’t see, but it was big enough to risk a good third degree burn if they’d try to escape.

“Oo, where’d you learn that?”

Now your eyes are on your brothers, orbs battling for dominance. “Easy,” You’re stalling for the right moment, now starting to pace around your brother, keeping a large distance between you two. “But, I’m sure it comes naturally to you. You don’t even need to try, huh?”

Ryou chuckles. “You’ve gotten smarter too.” He’s starting to pick up on the pacing, and part of him is nervous. He’s never seen such a side from you, you’ve always been obedient, never one to pick a fight.

What was going on today?

Ryou meets you half way and bumps into you, ruining your pattern of a circle, grabbing your shirt to keep you still.

“What’s this?” He asks, practically snarling at you. That cocky, annoying smile never dropping from his lips. “Trying to show off for your husband and a few amateur sorcerers? You can do better.”

You’re way to nervous to physically harm this man, that could go left and you’d be injured before the big fight. Possibly killed. So you opt for your power, pushing a hand forward, manipulating the air around you to ball up and shove into his stomach, sending him tumbling.

You took a few steps back, enough space to look up and check the moon shining down at you. You’re not mentally ready to brawl with your brother. You’re not ready to die yet.

“Ryou…” You began. Instant regret.

He straightens himself back up before making his way over to you, a grin on his lips. “Shouldn’t have done that, cheeky.”

And before you know it, the same method is returned to you, except the pain is tripled and you’re being sent back flying, your back slamming against the gravel on the ground.

You could feel each piece of gravel, rock and grain of sand pierce your skin. The wind was knocked from your lungs to your head, blacking your vision for a second.

“Shio-Sensei!” You hear one of the students cry out.

Something about hearing someone call for you… strangely made you want to get back up. When your brothers around, no one roots for you. No one cares about you — or even notices you. Not when the Star of Africa is near.

But right now… at this moment… they’re rooting for you. Everyone behind that stray of fire, blocked by a gate, watching two siblings fight one another.

They’re calling for you. They’re supporting you.

“Shio-Sensei, please!”

The sound of cracking fire protecting those innocent kids — along with the calls for your name. You’re up. You’re on your feet. This adrenaline was perfect.

“That…” You began, brushing your hands on your clothes and cleaning yourself from the dust. “Was weak.”

Another boost: the face your brother makes when he’s bitched at for the first time. He realizes that no one’s on his side here… his daddy isn’t here to boost him either… he’s alone now.

He’s in your shoes.

“What did you say to me?” Ryou’s fuming, you can smell it. From the smoke coming out of his ears to the ground he’s shaking under him. Pure, firey, rage.

In return, all you can do is smile endearingly and stretch your arm out beside you, hands empty. “I said that was,” For a split second, you only had one chance to prove yourself. You ignored your consciousness and the energy around you. Within seconds, your mind flatlines and there’s a ringing in your ear for a millisecond.

For just a quick second, earth around you had disappeared.

Then reappeared.

After the quick moment of focus, you look over to your stretched out arm — and in your hand is a sword. Hah, take that Nanami. Manipulating space isn’t as hard as it sounds.

Not giving a moment for Ryou to blink, your swinging your armed hand towards your brother — tossing the sword over to catch in your other hand and switch positions before he could retaliate.

“Weak.” You finish, huffing a breath.

Your students are behind the cage jumping and clapping, watching their teacher in action — amazed at what they see. Your husband on the other hand is trembling in his shoes.

He could easily get past the fire, and his plan was to intervene when need be. He knows you can handle your own and defend yourself — but he also knows that you’re fighting off of rage right now, and your movements and thinking process is sloppy and clouded.

He doesn’t want to step in too late, but he also doesn’t want to jump to the rescue and portray you as weak.

Ryou on the other hand takes a small step back. His phone begins ringing in his basketball shorts, and he’s quick to grab the device and answer it.

And as he listens to the recipient speak, he looks down at his chest. He couldn’t ignore the oozing feeling in his chest. His skin grew hotter by the second, and the dust particles kissed his wounds as the wind blew them around.

One massive slash across his chest. The blade was so sharp that it cut past his clothes and skin, resulting in a pretty bad leak. He’s shocked with himself for missing such a lousy attack — more so, his sister was the one to do it.

No words were exchanged for the twelve second call. Ryou simply ends the call and returns his phone into his pocket. Raises his gaze from the gash to your eyes and lets out a chuckle. A bitter yet cocky laugh. As if he was still laughing at you.

“You know,” Your brother looks up to the sky, the waning gibbous shining above. “I think we’ll plan your funeral a little more organized than mom’s.”

Weak. It doesn’t really affect you, Ryou’s never been ‘momma’s boy’. More of a spoiled brat. The anger he wanted out of you wasn’t granted, it made you yawn. You just insulted your brother, twice, and gave him a remarkable wound on his chest… and he’s not fighting back.

He’s stalling.

“Not on your game today?” You’re focusing your energy into your arm, manipulating the air around you to forcefully stick your sword onto the ground. “It’s mediocre, everything you’re saying. How’s that gash, though?”

“I can barely feel it.” Ryou’s quick to respond, “Just thought you’d want to know. You’d have the best funeral out of the three, I’m sure of it.”

Three? You try your hardest not to visibly be confused, but your brother already see’s you doing the math in your head. One, your mother. Metaphorically, two would be you.

There wouldn’t be a third.

Maybe your brothers sick. He’s been talking out of the ass for the past few minuets and keeping up with him is slightly throwing you off your game. He’s absolutely stalling.

“Three? Can you even co—” Oh. “Count…” All of the green of envy and revenge on your face had melted, returning you back to your normal state. Afraid and scared.

“G—…” You’re stumbling backwards, still keeping an eye on your brother. “Gojo!!”

As soon as he saw your state change, he was itching to get across the gate. All he needed to hear was your voice. Your plea. In seconds he’s by your side, turning you to face him. You’re not afraid of Ryou sneaking up, you’re not afraid of anyone’s safety with your husband being here.

Except Rika.

“I need… we need to go home, now.” Your panicking, your hands have began trembling and the nerves in your body are shot.

Gojo’s looking at you, trying to read whatever you’re trying to get at, but he’s just as confused as you were earlier. Without even moving his head, your husband can just feel the devious smile on Ryou’s face. This is the reaction he wanted out of you, it’s what he wanted to see with his own eyes — live!

“What’s going on?” Gojo asks.

“…Rika.”

💭:  @96jnie  @creolequeen11210  @patchi-chi @chieeeeeee @shadowarchon @willowsversion  @regalillegal @rahhhhhrs @luckimoon @chuurroo @xiaosie @gh0stwish @ayatoru @zohraaa123 @dazailover1900 @catoru-gojo @justwinterlights  @lightblueexorcist t  @nakachuchu @96jnie @emissaire @vernasce-blogs @oi-loverboy oy @holeyahsama  @vynlover27 @mnoaeiu @ginger0322 2 @prettyroxy @softiebadbitch @planetmarz @sugurugetosbitch @reiners-milkbiddies @bebetiny @tojisprincess @coquettemaiden @lovemarvel16 @shuxjodie @sssatorus @chosos-mascara @purpleguk @jeneate101

[chaoticallyfragmentary]

Cale x Alberu

“Did you know that I loved you?” Alberu whispers, his bloodied hand coming up, knuckles gently brushing over Cale’s cheek. Cale feels his breath catch, like it was him impaled with that sphere. He’s glad that he sent the kids away. He doesn’t think he can fake composure now.

It is the past tense that gets to him, really. As if his love would go away, fade as he takes his last breath. Cale thinks Alberu’s love would scald him long after he’s gone, as much a part of him as sinew and bone. He would rot with it.

‘Cale?’ Alberu murmurs, ‘you know the other life? the one where we could’ve been happy together?’

“Tell me something about it,” he whispers. "It can be anything. Anything at all. Just—"

“No,” Cale says, voice stern and eyes on him as his heart clenches and trembles in his chest. “No you stupid fucking man. It is this life. You will live and we will be happy in this life. Die and I will kill you myself.”

Alberu closes his eyes at the certainty of Cale’s voice. He feels warm, throughout his whole body, there is a slow warmth that settles into his very bones, his veins, each and every inch of him. Oh, he hasn’t felt so warm in so very long.

Maybe it is utter stupidity but he cannot help it. Maybe it is his own desperation but it’s everything he’s only ever longed to hear. They are the words he wants to reach out and pluck from the air to keep forever, spoken by the loveliest man he’s ever known.

“Keep him awake, don’t fucking let him sleep. We’re a minute out.”

“Sun of the Roan Kindgom,” Cale croaks.

Alberu hums, fingers moving gently over Cale’s hand. “I would want a house, with enough room for the kids and a few guest rooms for Rosaline, Mary and the other’s when they drop by. Our home will be warm, never absolutely spotless despite Ron’s persistent cleaning, Raon’s cookie crumbs littering the floor. It is never absolutely silent, the kid’s laughter cutting through the air, it will be modest and comforting in it’s simplicity. Somewhere we exist, without worrying if we’re doing it too loudly or not. Somewhere where we are just Alberu Crossman and Cale Heitenuse, just two idiots madly in love.”

Oh, fuck Alberu feels too full, so full of this want, this ardor and love—all for his idiot. He doesn’t know what to do with it, how to hold all of it because it feels like too much in him, too big to fit inside, like it will drown him from within. Oh fuck, he doesn’t want to die. Not when — not now, heart clenching with how deeply yearning hooks into him.

Cale feels like he is drowning, Alberu’s every wheezed out breath pulling him under. Fuck, he’ll pray, he’ll get down on his knees, offer up his life if it meant Alberu would live. The ancient powers are silent. You fucking God of Death! Take him and I will burn this world. I fucking dare you. Take him and I will reduce this world of yours to nothing but ash and bone. How the fuck is he meant to handle it all? He feels like all this pain and love is tearing him apart from the inside, echoing with grotesque pops of flesh that only he could hear. People aren’t built to feel the way he feels for him, his sun, his prince. Surely, it would crush even the strongest of them and Cale certainly isn’t.  

“I would tell you I love you, every single day. You will let me sleep for as long as I’d like, keeping the kids from waking me. Sometimes, you try making Kimchi Jjigae and it would taste so fucking bad—”

“HEY!”

“But I’d eat it all. Sometimes you write me these silly little notes in Korean that you learn in secret from Choi Han—” His voice goes tight, like he’s feeling too much, knees ready to buckle.

“Please, Alberu, crown prince, my sun, love please,” he dissolves into incoherent blubbering, pressing in and curling closer.

“Hey, Cale? I love you.” he confesses, releasing a hoarse laugh. What he wants to say is that he’d do anything for him, whatever he wanted.

A punched out noise escapes him and he goes really still, because that just sounded like a goodbye.

Alberu goes still in his arms just as Goldie Gramps lands with Tasha and a Dark Elf doctor.

[godsofhumanity]

i've been thinking about her relationship with Hera a lot for one my story ideas, and as i develop her personality, im appreciating her a little more.

Please elaborate this we’re curious now lol

ahahahaha ur wish is my command ✨

so for context. i was thinking about Typhon and how Typhon is born, and in one version, Hera gets jealous of Zeus because he "gave birth" to Athena "by himself" (he didn't need her) (technically it wasn't really by himself because Metis was still the one to conceive Athena, and she still gave birth to Athena, it was just in Zeus' head, but whatever).. and so, i'm extending off the idea that Athena's birth is what triggers Hera's decision to create Typhon as a weapon to fight Zeus with.

i think that the reason Hera gets SO furious with Zeus that she's goes to such lengths (i mean, she full on intends to destroy Zeus) is that Zeus' reaction to Athena, his recollection of Metis, was just too painful for Hera.. i mean, there are already so many bastard children around Olympus (Apollo, Artemis, Hermes, Persephone, etc.), and now Athena is born, Zeus' FIRST child EVER, and Hera is like, "i can't do this anymore".

a little backstory: i like the idea that Metis and Hera were friends. not besties or anything like that, but Metis, to me, is one of the older gods in the second generation of titans, and i like the idea that she and Prometheus were Zeus' left and right-hand gods who trained him and helped him win the war against Kronos.

and so, when Zeus' siblings were freed, Metis and Prometheus both helped them "re-integrate", and Metis would have been quite close with Hera especially because Hera spent so much time in Oceanus' house (Oceanus is Metis' father).

anyways, while Prometheus became a brother to Zeus, Metis and Zeus become practically wife and husband; this reflects the nature of Metis as Zeus' first wife. i like the idea that Metis was always intended to be the first Queen of Olympus; there was never anyone else.

note: in my timeline, Metis dies before she officially becomes queen, and therefore, she dies before she actually marries Zeus for real. i like the idea that Rhea thought Zeus was too young to become king officially, and so they decided that when Zeus became king in a few years, then they would get married so that they would both be coronated at the same time.

furthermore, while i don't think Metis is Zeus' first relationship, i do hc that she is Zeus' first true love. it's not just a fling; what he feels for her is the strongest love he's ever felt in his life (until Hera enters the scene, that is). as such, the prospect of having a child with Metis is one of Zeus' greatest.. "dreams"? hopes? he wants it, is what i'm saying. but, like his father and his father's father before him, Zeus is susceptible to paranoia. and the fear that Kronos' prophecy (that his child by Metis will overthrow him) becomes too real, and in a panic (again, like Kronos), he unwittingly dissolves Metis into just divine essence lacking a physical form. and because Metis no longer has a physical body, Zeus assumes that hope is lost, and his child is gone.

that's why when Athena IS born, Zeus is so overwhelmed, so excited, and so relieved that his first-born child is alive and well and beautiful and the spitting image of his first love, Metis.

and so of course, when he sees her and she tells him that she wants to be the goddess of strategy and wisdom and warcraft, even though he's already given war to his son Ares, he immediately gives her these domains also... i think he feels that he owes at least this much to Athena and to Metis.

now, when Athena is born, it all happens in front of everyone, and so Hera is standing there too, listening as Zeus passes off part of her son's domain to this new girl and immediately awards her a place on the Olympian council when one of her own children (Eileithyia) still doesn't have one (this is a very prestigious and high honour) (Hebe and Eris are not born as yet, and Enyo is an infant at the time Athena is born, in my timeline). and naturally, she's enraged.

Hera knows what Metis meant to Zeus; she was there. and even though she wasn't in love with Zeus when Metis was, seeing Athena now join the Olympians, there's a real fear in Hera's mind that Athena could step in line before Hera's children; that Zeus will abandon Hera's children (and her too) because now he has a child from his first "marriage".

so at the beginning, i think Hera hates Athena. Metis isn't alive for Hera to hate. so she hates the daughter instead. she despises Athena because she gets the attention from Zeus that Hera's own children don't get.

most of Zeus' bastard children get better treatment than Hera's children, and therefore Hera hates most of them.

Apollo and Artemis have always been proud characters and despise Hera; as such, they would never try to lower themselves to please Hera and i think that just makes their relationship worse. they always show her the bare minimum courtesy. they would never try to make Hera feel less awkward; they would be very "loud and proud" that their mother is Leto in front of Hera.

Hermes tries to suck up to Hera, which she finds mildly irritating. however, it also makes him slightly more tolerable to Hera; better than Leto's twins, at least.

Persephone is very low-key, polite, and sweet, and because she's not really around Olympus a lot, and because she is Demeter's child, Hera doesn't really have much beef with.

Athena, while she's headstrong, doesn't purposefully try to antagonise Hera. nor does she apologise to Hera (after all, she has nothing to apologise for).. she doesn't suck up to her, she doesn't gloat.

and, when she sees the impact of her birth on Hera and Zeus' marriage, she understands that this will be troublesome in the future, and so decides that she should let Hera know that she has no intention of "usurping" the throne, or using her birthright to inherit Zeus' throne or overshadow Hera's children.

i like the idea that Athena's only motivation is to serve justice. that's why she takes on chastity vows; so she is never distracted from the righteous path. she becomes a patron of heroes because she is sort of the ultimate hero; she has heroic ideals. she's noble, she's wise, she's brave. Athena has no interest in being a queen. i think she only wants to follow Zeus and be a pillar of Olympus; she's very much Themis 2.0 to me.

so that's why she actually isn't really a threat to Hera. if there was a possibility that Leto could be a queen, i do think Apollo and Artemis would do everything they could to ensure it happened. Dionysus, when he enters the scene later on, also does his best to bring his mother up from Hades to be a goddess in Olympus, right in front of Hera. but Athena? i don't think she would do those things. she doesn't try to push her way about.

i hc that before Typhon emerges, Athena speaks to Hera and tells her all of this; but crucially, she never apologises for anything. she only makes her intentions clear. and Hera has a lot of respect for this bold move... slowly, Athena is elevated from being merely another one of Zeus' strays to a respectable goddess (though not quite an equal) in Hera's eyes.

as i said before, i like the idea that Metis and Hera became friends, and i can imagine Metis helping to train Hera. one of Metis' swords which was given to Hera, is given to Athena by Hera as a token of her newfound respect for Athena, and also as a tribute to Metis who i feel was someone Hera was fond of and whose death she was affected by.

anyways. as we all know, in later myths, Athena and Hera sometimes appear on the same side, particularly against Zeus, so i believe the two find common-ground. they're neither friends, nor stepmother-and-stepdaughter, but something else; like that one person at work you don't want to see outside of work, but they're the only person in the workplace you can actually tolerate.

[zorinanana]

Like A Glass Bottle is an illustrated fanfiction I wrote a few months back about Vil Schoenheit going back to his hometown for the winter holidays. I already posted it on Ao3, but I wanted to post it here as well!

Rating: M (Strong language, suggestive content, Vil being thirsty)

Pairings: Jack/Vil, hints of Malleyuu

Content Warnings: PTSD, Anxiety, Vil having a weird relationship with food

Word Count: Long as Fuck (~45k words)

<- Previous (Chapters 5-7)

“Alright, here we are.” Vil said, turning around and spreading his arms wide. Jack looked around in confusion.

“This is just the aurora spot.”

“Yes, it is. Because we’re doing it over. A second take.”

“Vil…”

“Hear me out.” He reached out and took Jack’s wrist. His grip was a little too strong, but he knew Jack would be able to handle it. “Please.”

Jack looked down at Vil’s thin hand on his wrist. He sighed. “We can’t just do it over, Vil.”

“I know. I know I can’t take it back.” Vil lifted Jack’s hand and cupped it with both of his. He rubbed his thumb over Jack’s knuckles, just feeling the warmth in his palm. “But I don’t want that to be our strongest memory of this place. I don’t want to ruin it like that. So, let’s make a new one. A better one.”

Chapter 8 - Second Take

Vil woke to mascara smeared on his covers and the ringing of his phone.

He wasn’t sure when he had fallen asleep. It must have been early in the morning, because his throat was raw from crying for hours. He pulled his phone out of his pocket without checking who was calling. “Hello?” He croaked.

“Vil? You sound horrible, what happened?”

Vil’s eyes widened. He pulled the phone away from his ear just long enough to look at the screen. It was 12:09 and the man on the other end was his father.

“Dad?”

“Sweetheart, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

His father sounded clearer than he had in days. Vil thought he had run out of tears, but he felt them pool in his eyes again. He wanted so badly to return to the times when he had been a little boy, and a single hug from his dad was all he needed to cheer up. “Dad,” He said, voice weak, “I’m so stupid. I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you hurt?!”

“No. I. Not physically.” He clenched his fist in the covers underneath him. This was ridiculous. His dad obviously thought he was injured, or drunk, or high or something, not heartbroken over a relationship that never had a chance in the first place. Vil was worrying him over nothing. “Nevermind. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, no. Honey, I know what you’re doing, don’t just say you’re fine when you’re not fine-”

“There’s nothing you can do about it, anyway.” He mumbled. “I’m just stupid, and now I’m crying like a child over-over a boy, and-”

“Vil? Vil, I can’t hear you, I-”

The call dissolved into static and dropped. Vil just stared at the silent device. He didn’t try to call back. There was no point, anyway. Even if Erik could come here right now, what could he do about it? Could he fix all the things that were messed up about him? Make him somebody who was worthy of Jack?

No. He couldn’t. Not even dads can fix that. It was unfair to expect that of him. It was like expecting him to fix the pain Vil felt when his mother died.

So he dropped his phone and splayed out on his bed like a corpse.

---

Vil’s eyes fluttered open. He must have fallen asleep again, but it hadn’t helped with his exhaustion. He was starting to get hungry. He tried to think of what they would have in the fridge right now and came up with… Nothing. It had been months since he or his father had stayed here, and the maid regularly cleared the pantry of expired food. Maybe some crackers or instant noodles?

For a brief moment, he thought of Jack cooking him an egg-white omelet. No. Stop it. That’s never going to happen again, there’s no point in fantasizing about it.

Vil knew that the longer he lay there, the harder it would be to get up, so he gathered up whatever energy was left and forced himself to lift his upper body.

I can do this. There’s no need to be a drama queen. I can-

He heard a clicking sound and looked up.

The doorknob was turning.

Vil felt his heart jump. Adrenaline forced him to scramble backwards on the bed so he could grab the lamp on his nightstand. Who leaked my address?! Did I forget to lock the door?! Is it a robber? A murderer? A-

Time seemed to slow as the door creaked open. Vil raised his arm back, ready to throw the lamp as hard as he could at the intruder’s head-

…A very fluffy and white head.

Regna Howl peeked into his bedroom, just as startled as he was.

“Cripes, Vil. You almost gave me a heart attack.” Her ears were pulled back, eyes wide. “I rang the doorbell like 10 times and you never came down.”

“Regna?!” Vil dropped the lamp, wincing as it crashed to the floor. That was probably the lightbulb.

“Thank goodness you’re alright. We were worried sick about you!” Regna invited herself into the room. Relief was obvious on her face, her tail wagged wildly behind her.

“Regna, what the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

“Your dad managed to get through to us. He was really freaked out, sayin’ he thought you were gonna do somethin’ bad.” Regna’s ears perked up and she smiled tenderly at him. “I’m glad he was wrong. You shouldn’t worry Erik like that, y’know.”

“How did you get in here?!”

“I have a key. I water the plants for your dad when he’s away.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! We have a maid!” Vil gripped the sides of his head. He felt like he was going crazy. “Did you not think that I might want to know that you have a key to my house?!”

“Where did you think I was disappearing to every day?”

“I don’t know! A class? A book club? Your actual job? What do you even do, anyway!?”

“I’m a freelance designer, I work from home. I can kinda do whatever I want, whenever I want.” Regna looked around the room, untouched except for the rumpled bed he had been crying into all night. “So I guess you’ve just been moping around here today, huh? What happened?”

“What, Jack didn’t tell you?” Vil grumbled. He gripped the covers in both his fists, trying with all his might not to cry in front of Jack’s mother. “I fucked everything up and now he hates me.”

“He does not hate you. Good lord, you boys are so dramatic.” Regna shook her head. “He’s been crying at home all day too, y’know.”

“…He should hate me.”

“I’m not gonna stand here and listen to a teenager wallow in self-pity because he had a fight with the boy he likes. C’mere.”

Regna swooped in, bundling Vil and all of his covers against her in one fluid movement. It was easy for her, despite the way he thrashed around in surprise. She carried him down the stairs effortlessly and dumped him on the living room couch. As he landed, Vil let out a strange squeaky noise that he had never heard himself make before.

“Anyway, you’re right, I don’t water the plants. First thing the key’s for is emergencies, and this qualifies as one. Second is there’s a show I like on one of the premium channels, and we don’t have it, so I’ve been recording it here.”

Regna flopped down next to him on the couch, remote in hand. Vil stared at her from his blanket nest, in complete disbelief.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Vil grumbled. He gave up and fell backwards, sinking into the plush covers. He only looked up when he heard a familiar theme song.

“Oh, Hightower Manor.”

“You know it? What am I talking about, of course you do. This is exactly the kind of melodrama you would like.”

“I worked with the writer on a different show once.”

“Ooh, neat. So, who are you rooting for? The fiancé or the mysterious Count?”

“Esmeralda clearly has more chemistry with the Count.”

Regna nodded in agreement. “Vampire characters are always the sexiest ones.”

“The Count isn’t a vampire.”

“He was drinking blood in the first episode!”

“That’s a misdirect, it was just wine. They want you to think he’s a vampire so you don’t figure out his real secret.” Vil slumped further into the blankets. Talking about his ridiculous show theories helped distract him from how he was feeling, at least a little bit.

“Oh yeah? What’s his real secret?”

“He runs a cult and keeps a bisexual harem in the dungeon under the manor. That’s where the butler disappeared to in episode 5. We got a glimpse of it when Miriam was almost caught in episode 8.”

Regna frowned at him. She paused the show on a silly-looking frame of the Count mid-blink, tossed the remote on the couch and stood up abruptly. “Well thanks for ruining it for me, Vil, I guess I don’t need to come to your house anymore.”

“That’s not a spoiler, I don’t know for sure that’s what it is. I could be wrong.”

“You’re never wrong about this stuff!” She bopped his head with her palm as she passed him, heading into the kitchen.

“Why are you really here, Regna?” Vil asked, not moving from the blanket nest on the couch. His throat felt dry and painful after a long night of crying.

“What, I can’t be worried about you?” Regna asked. He could hear her clanking around in his cabinets and eventually she popped back up, a kettle in her hands. “Just because I’m Jack’s mom doesn’t mean I’m taking sides or anything. Hell, I don’t even know what you two fought about. Jack didn’t want to tell me.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, I gathered that much. Do you wanna give me the details?”

“No.” He croaked.

“S’fine. You don’t have to.” She’d finished prepping the water and joined him on the couch again. “But I promise you, he doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s the problem.” Vil explained. “I’d rather he hated me. I’m not… Good. I’ve hurt him in so many ways, without even realizing it, and I’m going to end up hurting him even more if he gets too close to me.”

“Vil. Look. This isn’t a normal way to feel about yourself. Everyone hurts people without meaning to, sometimes. It doesn’t make you some monster.”

“Everyone keeps acting like it does.” Vil’s head hung low. He thought of Malleus again, hiding away in his castle, the weight of what he’s done hanging over him like a silver sword for the rest of his life.

“So what? You’re Vil fucking Schoenheit!” Regna let out a sharp laugh, startling him. “As long as you know you did everything you could, who cares what a bunch of strangers think?”

“This is different. I can deal with that. I’m used to it.” He sunk further into the blankets and gazed out at the snowy hills beyond his sliding glass doors. “I just don’t want Jack to have to deal with it.”

“Man, you must think my boy is a real coward.” She shook her head, putting on a slightly exaggerated pout. “Kinda insulting, honestly.”

“What?!” The kettle went off and she stood, walking back to the kitchen. “I don’t think Jack is a coward!” He protested after her, turning to look at her over the back of the couch.

“Then why’re ya acting like he’s someone you gotta protect? He’s not that much younger than you, y’know.” Regna rounded the couch, two steaming cups of tea in her hands. She put one on the end table next to Vil. He casually lifted it and slid a coaster under it.

“It’s not an age thing, either. It’s not… It’s not anything like that.”

Regna took a calm sip of her tea, smacking her lips as she savored it. “Hun, you need therapy. I ain’t even saying this to be funny, I mean you need to call up an office and make an appointment right now.”

“I already have a therapist.”

“Then start going more often.”

“It doesn’t help, okay?!” Vil blurted out. He was so sick of having this conversation. Yuu had already told him as much during their 2-hour lecture in the courtyard, in between yelling at Leona to shut the fuck up. “What am I supposed to say to her? ‘Oh, I almost murdered a whole stadium full of people, including the guy I’m in love with, and now I’m pretty sure I’m traumatized by that and the massacre that happened at my school right before junior year ended’?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m betting they’ve heard worse. Ain’t like yours is the only magic school in the world where crazy stuff has happened.”

Vil’s face felt hot as he covered it with his hands. “Please stop giving me practical mom advice. I’m tired. I just want to be sad in my bed all day.”

“Sure thing, hun.” Regna slurped down the last of her tea and stood, heading to the kitchen to clean up.

When she was finished, she came back to the couch and leaned over to surround him in a hug from behind. Vil froze, not expecting the sudden embrace. It was warm. Comfortable. Safe. It reminded him of being near Jack, and he realized that she was who he’d gotten that from.  

“And while you’re busy being sad, please try to remember. Jack wants you to be happy. All of us do. You deserve to be happy.” She told him, so softly and gently.

Vil couldn’t look at her. He could only stare out the glass door, the far-off hills growing fuzzier and fuzzier as tears gathered in his eyes once again.

She kissed him on the top of his head as she pulled away from him. “We’ll be waiting for you at home, kiddo.” Regna said, her voice staying quiet and soothing.

Vil heard her shoes click through the foyer. He waited until she had closed the door behind her and turned the lock before letting the tears fall. Before letting himself wail and sob as hard as he had when he was 7 years old.

---

Vil ate every grain of the fried rice that he’d ordered from the first Chinese place listed in his maps app. It was trash and he knew it, but it was better than nothing. He needed something that would give him enough energy to get through today, at least.

Because tomorrow, he was going to have a lovely dinner with the Howl family, including Jack.

It felt good to finally wash up. Vil hadn’t realized how dirty he was this entire time, with pine needles clinging to his hair and chips of bark stuck to his skin. He supposed all that had gotten on him while he was kissing Jack. The little black bits of foliage flushed down the drain in his shower.

The black sludge inside him was still there. Even now, having made his mind up, he felt it crawling in his guts and trying to strangle his heart. It would always be there. Vil was just going to have to fight it and fight it and fight it until it had no power anymore. Until it was just a weak little voice that he would always have the strength to push away.

He knew he could do it, with some work. He was the Vil Schoenheit, after all.

I’ve been thinking of this the wrong way from the start. He thought, staring at himself in the foggy mirror. It’s not Jack’s job to fix me, and he was never going to. So I have to fix myself.

He still wanted Jack to be there. He wanted Jack to laugh at cheesy movies with him, and cook him omelets, and go skiing and jogging with him, and sit on the couch at 11PM eating leftovers, and watch the auroras with him every year after this for the rest of their lives.

Because if someone like Jack loved him that much, surely Vil wasn’t as bad a person as he thought he was.

So he had to do everything he could to make things right. Even if Jack hated him now, even if he would never forgive him. He had to show Jack that he would be okay, with or without him.

Vil knew what he needed to do, but first he needed to take care of his own damn self.

He still didn’t feel 100% when he left his house, but that didn’t matter. He’d cleaned up, reapplied his makeup, put on fresh clothes… Everything he could to feel normal again. And today, that was something he could be proud of.

The air outside was crisp and refreshing, compared to the cold misery of his house. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, imagining that the winter air was cleansing him from the inside out. Washing out just a little bit of that darkness that had settled inside him.

When Vil opened his eyes again, he felt just a little lighter. Light enough that he could take that first step forward on the snow-covered sidewalk and begin his march to Jack’s house.

Even these ugly, ugly boots wouldn’t stop him.

---

Approaching the house, he saw Autumn standing on the porch, her arms crossed as golden eyes glared daggers at him.

Vil walked up to the porch, stopping just before the wooden steps. Even with the boost, she was still tiny compared to him.

“I’m not letting you in. You’re just gonna hurt my brother again.” She growled. She didn’t look at all like a shy little girl hiding behind her mother in the supermarket. He was proud of her.

“I’m not here to hurt your brother.” Vil said, “I’m here to tell him that I love him.”

Autumn thought about that for a moment.

“Okay.”

She stepped aside to let him pass. Vil gave her a nod and entered the house.

“Jack!” He yelled out. He didn’t bother taking his boots off, marching right up the steps to the second floor. Buttercup, loafing peacefully on the landing, just flicked her tail passively as he stomped past.

Morris poked his head out of the living room, startled. “The hell, Vil?!”

“Sorry, I’ll be done in a second!”

Vil wrenched the door to Jack’s room open. The boy was lying face-down on his bed, ignoring him. He was still dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing last night.

“Jack.”

“Fuck off.” Jack growled into his pillow. “I don’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“Tough.” Vil grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged. Jack yelped as he was yanked off his bed and down to the floor, landing with a loud THUMP. They could hear Morris cursing from the first floor but couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying.

“Get your jacket. You’re coming with me.”

“What is wrong with you?!” Jack roared, jumping up from the floor. “Why would I ever go anywhere with you after all the shit you said last night?!”

But Vil wasn’t intimidated. He gripped the front of Jack’s shirt and tugged his face down, staring him straight in the eye. “You said I never give up on anything. And you’re right. I don’t. So you’re coming with me, whether you want to or not.”

“Like hell I am.” Jack growled. But when Vil pulled, he still walked forward.

Vil only let him go so he could tug on his jacket and slip into his sneakers, grumbling all the while. As soon as he was suitably dressed, he gripped Jack’s arm and swept him out the door.

---

“Alright, here we are.” Vil said, turning around and spreading his arms wide. Jack looked around in confusion.

“This is just the aurora spot.”

“Yes, it is. Because we’re doing it over. A second take.”

“Vil…”

“Hear me out.” He reached out and took Jack’s wrist. His grip was a little too strong, but he knew Jack would be able to handle it. “Please.”

Jack looked down at Vil’s thin hand on his wrist. He sighed. “We can’t just do it over, Vil.”

“I know. I know I can’t take it back.” Vil lifted Jack’s hand and cupped it with both of his. He rubbed his thumb over Jack’s knuckles, just feeling the warmth in his palm. “But I don’t want that to be our strongest memory of this place. I don’t want to ruin it like that. So, let’s make a new one. A better one.”

“…Like what?” Jack asked. Vil looked up at him. He was a mess-his ears drooping, his clothes wrinkled, his hair even wilder than it usually was.

But he was still so beautiful.

“I love you.” Vil blurted out.

Wait, shit. He’d meant to have more of a lead-up to that. Jack’s ears shot up and his bloodshot eyes widened.

“Hold on. Damn it. I didn’t mean to say it that quickly. Fuck.” Vil felt his face heating up. From blessed embarrassment this time, not shame. He looked back down at Jack’s hand and saw that it was shaking in his grip.

Jack wasn’t looking at him. His mouth twitched, air puffing out of his nose.

It was such a relief.

“You can laugh, I don’t mind.”

“No, no, I’m not… Pfft.” It wasn’t a belly laugh, but he did chuckle pretty hard. The tension finally dissolved and Vil felt an ache of familiar affection in his heart. Only Jack could make him happy that he was being laughed at.

“I love you.” Vil said again, softer this time.

Jack didn’t say anything. For a moment, he just looked at Vil, like he had so much he wanted to say and just couldn’t put the words together.

In the end, he used the hand Vil was holding to tug him closer, letting Vil’s head rest against his shoulder.

“I love you, too.” Jack said.

Vil was starting to get pretty sick of crying, but it looked like that was just going to be A Thing from now on. He fisted the back of Jack’s jacket and buried his face in his shoulder, letting his tears soak into the fabric.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Vil gasped. “I love you so much. I’ve loved you for such a long, long time, I didn’t even realize for half of it, and-”

“I know. Don’t apologize.” Jack interrupted him. His arms circled around Vil, pulling him close. Vil could hear the quiet sniffles in between his words. “I hate it. I hate the way you keep talkin’ about yourself. If anyone else talked about you that way, I’d beat the shit out of ‘em.”

“I know you would.”

Jack took a big, shuddering breath. “And I know you don’t like to be helped and you like to take care of yourself but fuck, Vil. Please just let me do that. Just once in a while.”

“I’ll try. I promise, I’ll try.” Vil’s grip was weakening, so he reached up to hold Jack’s shoulders, desperate for this contact to never end.  “I never thought you were a kid, Jack. You were just safe and it was so easy to just be the way we were before.”

“Yeah. It was.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to know how much I was hurting. Because I’m Vil Schoenheit, and I’m supposed to be confident and perfect and not… Not scared all the time.”

“You don’t gotta be perfect.” Jack reached his hand up and cupped the back of his head. His fingers gently combed through Vil’s hair, a soothing little tug that eased his mind. “You’re better when you’re not perfect. ‘Cause only I get to see that. It’s special.”

It’s special.

Vil took a deep breath and stepped back, far enough that he could look into Jack’s eyes but close enough that they didn’t have to let go of each other.

“Please. Kiss me again.” He whispered.

He didn’t have to ask twice. Jack closed the distance in a second.

This time, this kiss was warm, and gentle, and nothing at all like the frantic, hormonal rush from last night. They just melted against one another, occasionally trading soft nips at each other’s lips.

Vil loved it just as much. Loved him just as much. This big, sweet man who had had his heart from the moment he threw those pebbles at his window and took him to see the aurora.

They stood there like that for a long time, just feeling each other, sharing one breath, on that empty little hill that was only a few blocks from Jack’s house. A light snowfall began, but they were too warm in this moment to care.

A cyclist rode past and wolf whistled at them. Jack’s head darted up and he shot him the bird.

“HEY! FUCK YOU, PAL!”

Vil burst out laughing.

---

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): hey vil.

hey.

vil.

hey.

Vil: Oh, so now you actually want to talk to me?

Very interesting, Epel. This ought to be good.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): no actually I don’t wanna do this at all.

but like

I gotta get something off my chest

Vil: Go on.

I happen to be in a very good mood right now, so I’ll hear you out.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): ok so this year’s freshmen,

they’ve been giving the new housewarden a hard time about all the stuff you tried to teach us.

he’s trying really hard but he’s not nearly as good at it as you are so they keep fighting about it.

Vil: Ugh, I expected as much.

That place is going to go to pieces without me.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): it’s not THAT bad.

it really is just the freshmen

and a bunch of us have tried to help him out with them.

so things are a lot better now, we’ve all made more friends

and they’re starting to see why we do this stuff.

Vil: Oh, so I really did teach you something?

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): yeah fine, you did.

it’s cause it’s important to take care of yourself and do stuff that makes you feel good.

even if it’s hard sometimes.

self-care and alla that.

and it’ll make you better at other things.

Vil: So you did get it.

It’s good to know that I managed to get through to you.

I’m proud of you, Epel.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): don’t get me wrong I still hate your fucking guts.

you should still have given me a choice

and not been all cryptic and condescending.

I probably would’ve been way more receptive if you’d just treated me like an equal

and had a normal conversation with me.

Vil: Hm.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): don’t you hm me im not done

and you keep picking at my accent when it’s just the way I talk and yknow what? It’s nunna your damn business! If people don’t like it then I don’t want them in my life anyway! Why should I care what they think???

also you keep assuming I think girls and girly things are below me or something.

I don’t actually, I just don’t like feminine stuff, FOR ME, PERSONALLY.

it doesn’t make me feel good about myself!!!

so making me do it anyway is completely! contradictory!

to all your self-care crap!!!!

Vil: Hmm.

You know what, Epel?

You’re right.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): wait what.

Vil: You’re right, I wasn’t fair to you at all.

I never thought about what you might have wanted.

So I’m sorry. I really am.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): I didn’t expect you to agree with me wtf.

Vil: You are wrong about one thing though.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): what

Vil: I do think of you as an equal.

I was only so hard on you because I felt that you were sabotaging yourself.

You really are talented, and you have a lot of potential.

I should have told you that more often.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): wtf stop saying nice things to me!!!

this is too weird and sincere im supposed to be yelling at you!!!

Vil: Too bad. This is the Epel Praise Hour now.

Anyway, you’d better keep up with your potionology studies.

If you’re not housewarden by next year I will be very disappointed in you.

I think you’ll be quite good at it.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): Im gunna tank my potions grade just to spite you

Vil: No you’re not.

Toxic Masculinity (Epel): fine I wont

only because im gunna be the best goddamn housewarden pomefiore has ever seen.

AND im gunna do it WITH my accent. ------------------------------

Chapter 9 - Present

“‘Bout time you two got here.” Regna stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “You missed watching the kids open their presents. Autumn says thanks for that creepyass doll, by the way.”

“I’m glad she likes it.” Vil replied, “I’m sorry we’re late, we overslept a bit.”

“Yeah, I bet. I hope ya’ll at least used protection.”

“Ma!” Jack hissed at her, his face bright red.

“You think I’m stupid or something? You get dragged outta the house, disappear for the rest of the day, and then turn up the next morning in brand-new clothes? Please.” She rolled her eyes at them, beckoning for them to follow her inside.

“Can you at least pretend like you don’t know?” Jack huffed. Vil tried to hold back a laugh at his perturbed face. He didn’t really mind if the Howls knew. He didn’t care if the whole world knew, honestly. It just made it more real, reminding him that this wasn’t just another fantasy he had dreamed up.

“Vil! Happy holidays!” Autumn yelled, running up to him. She was carrying the weird little doll in her arms like a baby. Despite its bulbous eyes, embroidered bloodstains, and the stuffed knife accessory sewn into its hand.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Jack asked. Autumn ignored him and hugged Vil around his waist. He bent over a little to return her hug.

“Happy holidays to you too, dear.” Looking back at Jack, he nodded at the flat packages he was carrying under his arm. “I’m sure you have something there that’ll get you back in her good graces, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Here, we got this while we were out yesterday.” Jack held one of the boxes out to her. Autumn tilted her head in curiosity and tucked the doll under her arm before taking the box and unceremoniously ripping apart the pristine paper.

“You… You got me a new ski jacket?!” Her mouth dropped open in shock. “It’s not a hand-me-down?!”

“Go on, try it on.”

She squealed, handing Vil her doll as she pulled the jacket on. It was a little larger than it needed to be, so she would have space to grow into it. “I love it! It’s so pretty and pink!”

Autumn jumped around in a little circle to show it off. “I can’t wait to wear it to skiing lessons next week! Justina’s gonna be soooo jealous! Thanks, Jack!”

“Thank Vil, he’s the one who told me to get the pink one.”

“Oh yeah!” She wobbled a little as she stopped spinning. “Did ya tell Jack ya love him, Vil? Is that why you guys were gone for so long?”

In the living room, they heard Drew choke on something and start laughing through his coughs.

“I did, Autumn. Thanks for letting me in so I could retrieve him.” Jack’s face was turning red in his peripheral vision. Vil was pretty sure his own face would be tired tomorrow, from smiling too much.

“So are you boyfriends now?!” She squealed.

“I suppose we are.” Vil answered. Jack just nodded, too embarrassed to open his mouth. He slipped his hand into Vil’s instead.

“That’s awesome! I think you’re my brother’s first ever boyfriend, Vil.”

“Oh? Is that true?” Vil already knew it was true, but he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tease Jack.

Jack. His new boyfriend. Vil laced his fingers between Jack’s and lightly squeezed. Jack squeezed back, though he still couldn’t look at him.

Autumn took her doll and ran back into the living room to show off her new jacket to the rest of her family, leaving the two of them in the lavishly festive hallway.

“Well, I guess everyone knows now.” Jack sighed.

“We weren’t exactly being subtle, Jack.”

“Yeeaaah, but I still had like… This whole dumb announcement plan in my head. I was gonna pick you up and kiss you and everything. But they probably woulda just been like ‘About fucking time’.”

“That would’ve been cute, but you can save it for the proposal.” Vil smirked. Jack somehow turned an even darker shade of red. “I’m just joking, Jack.”

Half joking.

“Now, let’s go open your presents. We need to give this one to Drew, too.”

“This ain’t for Drew.”

Vil raised an eyebrow when Jack passed him the second box he had been carrying. It was heavier than Autumn’s.

“Wait, it’s for me?”

“Yep. Drew got over $400 in giftcards today. I think he’s good for now.”

Vil slid a manicured fingernail under the taped edge of the paper and popped it open, pulling off the wrapping paper from there. The plain white box underneath offered no clues as to what it could be. He lifted the cover and gasped.

Inside the box was a pair of white high-heeled boots. They perfectly matched with the outfit he’d been wearing when he came home-The outfit he’d come to the Howls’ in.

“Happy holidays, Vil.” Jack said, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy. I can’t really afford the big brand names and stuff, but when I saw them, I thought of you, so...”

“Jack…” Vil sighed, a wistful smile on his face. He ran his thumb over the soft white pleather of the boots. They weren’t designer, sure, but they were clearly higher quality than the types of shoes Jack usually bought for himself. He could tell that he had picked them out very carefully. That was worth so much more than a brand name. “They’re beautiful. I love them.”

Jack gave him a shy, cute little smile that made Vil want to cry.

“I feel so bad. You got me such a wonderful present, and all I got you was another cactus.”

Jack shrugged. “I like cactuses. And it’s a cute one, I like it. Ya bought me these clothes, too.”

“Still. I’m sorry. I did kind of intrude on your family’s holidays all week.” But Vil’s heart warmed anyway. He just couldn’t get rid of the smile that was on his face. Jack shook his head.

“You didn’t intrude on nothin’. I had a great time this week.”

He reached out and gently grasped Vil’s free hand again, a movement that felt so natural and right, now.

“Even… Even with the bad stuff.” Jack whispered. “Because it was stuff we had to say. Stuff we both needed to know.”

“You’re right.”

“So, you being here. That’s… the best present I’ve ever gotten.” Jack said, his voice low and sentimental. He brushed a stray lock of hair behind Vil’s ear and brushed his finger along his jaw, gently tipping his chin up.

“You’re welcome,” Vil repeated, breathless. “But you haven’t gotten the rest of your presents yet.”

“Doesn’t matter. I already know this is the best one.”

Jack leaned in and kissed him. It was gentle and chaste (they were still standing in the hallway of Jack’s crowded house, after all), but it still sent shivers all the way down to Vil’s toes.

Vil nestled against his boyfriend on the couch, just enjoying the warmth of the hot cocoa in his hand and the heavy arm around his shoulder. The Howl children sorted through their stocking-stuffer candy as the adults chatted by the roaring fireplace. Buttercup had found an empty box to sit in.

Jack’s tail thumped into the couch beside them. It felt natural. It felt right. He hadn’t felt this right about himself in months.

Vil knew it wouldn’t always feel like this. That he would probably have times in his future far darker than the night before last, maybe even darker than the day his mother died. But for every one of those times, he would have 100 moments just like this.

Moments like the fleeting triumph when they had successfully pulled off their VDC performance. The night he’d played chess against Leona and almost won. The time Yuu hit Malleus with a drumstick and everyone could tell how much he liked the attention. The night just before his 3rd year ended, when they all knew they had done everything they could, so Idia convinced them to play Stario Kart until the sun rose.

Like eating an egg-white omelet. Watching a bad movie late into the night. Seeing an aurora on the little hill where he’d told Jack that he loved him.

So, he would remember them. He would collect those moments like precious little jewels in a glass bottle, and he’d always, always keep them close.

Someone knocked on the door. Regna flashed Vil a grin that he was a little mystified by. She gestured for him to stand up and follow her.

When she opened the door, his father was standing on the other side. Disheveled, tired, and grubby from rushing here, but smiling wider than Vil had ever seen before. He stepped through the door without a word and wrapped Vil in a hug.

Vil had hoped he could get through one day without crying, but it looked like that was a pipe dream.

---

Leona (DO NOT CALL): ey whatup

Vil: Leona?

Leona (DO NOT CALL): oh hey u unblocked me

i heard from ruggie about u and jack, congrats i guess

Vil: Thanks?

I have no idea how he would know that, I haven’t even told anyone yet.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): cater told him

Vil: I’m starting to get a little concerned about whatever Cater is up to.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): ye u should be

get ur phone checked for stuff thats all im sayin

but anyway

just wanted to say sorry for being a dick

Vil: Wait, you’re not Leona. Who is this.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): fuck you.

ive just been thinking a lot about what yuu said to us

when they yelled at us in the courtyard

Vil: That was ages ago. You were thinking about it for that long?

I never found out if you made up with them.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): ye i was real mad about it for a while

i thought they were biased and full of shit

but then i remembered im a fucking grownass man and i had to get my problems fixed by a bunch of teenagers

and even then my problems werent actually fixed, i still felt like crap

Vil: Yeah, that’s probably the depression.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): stop diagnosing me ur not a doctor

anyway the only time I ever felt right about myself was when we were all working together

felt like i was part of something that mattered for once

so i think they were right

all of us are pretty fucked up, vil

but i guess u trashfires are my friends now

even lizardboy

we could at least try to take care of each other.

Vil: Wow, that’s… surprisingly introspective of you, Leona.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): ye I should write a book or something

Vil: Don’t get carried away. “Be nice to people” isn’t as big a breakthrough as you think it is.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): lol like ur one to talk

cursing juice bc u lost at a dance contest. smdh

Vil: Breaking legs because you lost at a sportsball game. smdh

Leona (DO NOT CALL): heeeyyy ur finally getting this texting thing good for u

Vil: I do appreciate the apology, though.

I probably owe some people one as well.

You are going to apologize to Yuu, right?

Leona (DO NOT CALL): ye

theyre gonna be gone soon and itd suck if they left thinking im still mad and stupid

hold up I gotta go my nephew is bein a lil shit

see u later

Vil: Happy holidays, Leona.

Leona (DO NOT CALL): u too

Leona (DO NOT CALL) has been changed to Leona

---

This had to be the most crowded celebration Vil had been a part of in years, but he didn’t mind at all. Erik spent hours regaling them all with the tales of his adventures in the storm. Well, they were mostly about the talent show he’d put together three days in. Apparently, one of the hotel guests was an expert knife juggler, and she’d taken the whole prize pot.

But when Vil briefly excused himself to refill his tea, he found something unusual in the dining room. It was a tablet with a dark green case, sitting alone on the table where they had eaten their solstice dinner. He knew that Autumn’s had a purple case, so it probably wasn’t hers…

He hadn’t meant to snoop, he really hadn’t, but when Vil picked up the device to inspect it he was surprised to discover that it wasn’t locked. The first thing he saw was a maximized window of a text document. He still intended to just put the thing down until he spotted a couple of familiar names in said document. Names he had seen often in the scripts of a certain tween comedy.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Blake.” Kyle ghosted his fingers over the blonde’s throat, up to his chin, tilting it up towards him. Blake gasped. The rain was soaking his expensive suit, but he couldn’t possibly care about that right now. “Ever since the spring fling, it’s always been you.”

“What about Cassandra?” Blake managed to whisper. It was a flimsy excuse; he knew Cassandra only had eyes for Riley. The flirting between her and Kyle was all a farce, just like the farce she had put up when she’d tried to convince them she belonged here. Fairweather Academy was filled with cruelty and corruption, so she had to put on a performance.

Blake was all too familiar with performing. He had to do it every day, when he walked into class and pretended to hate Kyle’s guts, despite the many tender moments they’d shared over the year.

“Don’t think about her, Blake. Look at me. You feel this too, don’t you?” Kyle’s lifted Blake’s hand and kissed his knuckles. Water dripped from his dark hair onto Blake’s face. “Why should we have to hide?”

Blake couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been holding back so long, and the warmth of Kyle against his soaked body was the final straw. He gripped the other boy’s shirt and pulled him down, locking their lips in a passionate ki-”

Vil heard a strange, strangled squeak to his right, just out of view. He didn’t have to look to know what it was, but he did anyway.

Drew had just entered the room and was staring at him in abject horror, his face pale as a ghost.

“…I think this is yours.” Vil said, holding the tablet out to him. Drew looked back and forth between Vil’s face and the device, unsure of how to proceed from here. Finally, he took it from Vil’s hand and shakily tucked it under his arm.

After a moment, Drew plucked up the courage to speak again. “You’re not… Gonna tell anyone, are you?” He asked, his voice as quiet as possible.

“About what? All I saw was a nice little story about two characters I’ve never heard of in my life.”

The look of relief that covered Drew’s face honestly warmed his heart.

“Cute illustrations, too. I assume Abby did those?”

“Y-yeah…”

“She’s very talented. I can see why you two are such good friends.” Vil gave Drew one last serene smile before turning and walking out of the room.

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

Chapter 10 - Future

Vil: Cater.

Don’t read too much into this, but I need to ask you something.

Cater Diamond: hey vil!

lol u don’t gotta be coy-coy w/ cay-cay.

I’d be happy to go on a date w/ u ;)

Vil: That is literally the definition of reading too much into it.

Are you spying on me?

Cater Diamond: no of course not!! That would be soooo cringe Dx

Vil: Then how do you know about everything happening in my personal life.

Cater Diamond: i have my sources :P

Vil: Is it Rook.

Cater Diamond: ……………….…

Vil: It’s Rook, isn’t it.

This is what he’s been doing all year.

He’s been spying on me?!

Cater Diamond: i didn’t say anything

Vil: Cater if you don’t tell me the truth right this second

I will personally track you down and END YOU.

Cater Diamond: damn don’t threaten a guy w/ a good time >_>

it’s nothing that sinister ok

rook is spying on everyone

Vil: Excuse me?

Cater Diamond: his main target is leona but he’s been branching out recently

it was u for the past week or so, it was riddle before that

and the leech bros before that

that didn’t end super great for him im pretty sure they almost tore his arm off

the pictures were hella yikes

he’s got a blog where he’s posting all of it

it’s his senior thesis

Vil: HOW IS THAT A SENIOR THESIS

Cater Diamond: it’s espionage

Vil: WHY WOULD HE WRITE A SENIOR THESIS ON ESPIONAGE

WHO WOULD APPROVE SOMETHING LIKE THAT

Cater, I have had a long fucking week.

I’ll say it in Magicamlish to make this easy for you: “please say sike”

Cater Diamond: im sorry vil u_u

unfortunately, i can not say sike

Vil: I’m going to kill him.

He’ll wish he only lost an arm once I’m through with him.

Where is he right now.

Cater Diamond: uh

last time he updated I think he was undercover as a servant in kalim’s mansion

not even jamil has recognized him yet lol

Vil: NONE OF YOU PEOPLE HAVE REPORTED HIM TO THE POLICE?!

Cater Diamond: hey

im no snitch, I just serve the tea

and he’s your vice

if anyone should be keeping tabs on him it’s you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Vil: I’ve never been more furious in my entire life.

Never speak to me again.

Cater Diamond: aw :/

Cater Diamond has been blocked --- --- ---

“There. Perfect. How does it feel? Not too tight?”

Jack experimentally swiveled his ears around through the holes that Vil had tailored into his hood. “Feels good. I can actually hear ya now.”

“I can’t believe the headmage still hasn’t made hoods like this standard-issue. You would think he’d take the school’s beastman population into consideration when ordering the formal wear.” Vil shook his head sadly as he carefully folded Jack’s ceremonial robe into place.

“You’re assuming Crowley gives a fuck about anything that happens to us.”

“True. The fact that man hasn’t been fired or arrested yet is baffling. There we go.” Vil stepped back to admire his work, hands on his hips. It made him a little nostalgic, seeing Jack like this. He’d given him a whole lecture about wearing his robes properly when Jack was a freshman, back when they were still awkwardly trying to figure out how their relationship had changed. “Not that you needed my help, but thank you for letting me fuss over you anyway.”

“I know how much ya like to. Thanks.” Jack smiled softly as he leaned in to kiss him. It made Vil’s heart flutter.

“Jack! We gotta get a move on for the housewarden meetin’-Oh. Hey, Vil.”

Epel poked his head through the dressing room door, glaring in their direction like he’d just seen a cockroach. He’d gotten taller in the past few years and grown his hair out so he could style it into a silky ponytail. His ceremonial robes and makeup were immaculate, of course. Vil had to admit, despite his attitude, Epel had blossomed into a very stylish young man.

“Good morning, Epel. I was just helping Jack get ready. We can’t have him looking sloppy up on stage, can we?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what ya’ll were doin’” Epel rolled his eyes. “Just finish makin’ out with yer boyfriend and get ta the chamber before 9, Jack.”

“Sure thing, dude. I’ll be there in a bit.” Epel left, closing the door behind him.

“Are you and Epel still buttin’ heads?” Jack asked.

“Oh, I think we always will, but there’s no real animosity anymore. We made up during that camping trip last year. You know, the one where you taught him how to catfish noodle?”

“Heh. That was great.” Jack smiled at the memory. “He’s gonna be more annoyed than anyone if I’m late, though, so I really do gotta go.”

“Oh, alright. I love you.” Vil stood on his toes to kiss his boyfriend’s cheek, and he turned his head to kiss Vil back.

“Love ya, too. See you in a bit.”

---

The public portion of the graduation ceremony went off without a hitch. Epel’s valedictorian speech was surprisingly poignant and funny, and no one seemed to be all that bothered by his accent. Vil could hear some of the visitors around him giggling and going on about how charming he was.

Ace did some stupid little meme dance as he crossed the stage, plucking his diploma out of an unamused Crowley’s hand. He almost tripped down the stairs on the other side. Deuce looked dazed and confused, like he couldn’t believe he had really made it here. When he picked up his hard-earned diploma, a woman at the front of the hall cheered and encouraged him to hold it up in the air like a trophy. She was almost as loud as Lilia when Sebek walked up, stiff as a board. Even Grim bounced up in a cute little ceremonial ribbon that Yuu had made for him, Crowley handing him a smaller diploma that he could more comfortably carry.

Vil could vaguely hear the Ramshackle prefect cheering for the boys too, though their voice started to flag a little as the ceremony went on. It had been a while since they last visited, Vil would need to catch up with them after this.

And of course, there was Jack. He waved at Vil and his family as he walked, an enormous grin on his face. The Howls whooped and cheered, and while Vil wasn’t quite that excited, he still laughed and clapped along with them.

Vil’s heart swelled with pride, and a little bit of melancholy. This was the last year that anyone he really knew would be up on that stage. Well, unless he had a son in the future who was magically talented enough to be accepted here. Maybe someday.

Afterwards, the new grads retreated into the hall of mirrors to hold the private ceremony, a mysterious and forbidden ritual open only to students. (Vil remembered it, it was basically just Crowley and the former housewardens giving boring speeches and handing out brand-new magical pens.)

There were refreshments and music for the families in the cafeteria, and an opportunity to catch up with the others.

Yuu and Malleus were doing quite well, despite how obviously terrified the people around them were once they recognized the prince. “Hmph, as if I’m going to let this rabble stop me from seeing Sebek’s graduation.” He’d said. Lilia laughed. Almost no trace remained of the despair that had been on his face that day, almost three years ago.

Vil even ran into Riddle, who had been very busy recently.

“I filed the patent just last month. Now we just wait.” He said, smirking with pride.

“This is going to change the transportation industry as we know it, Vil. It won’t be long before factories all over the world are producing the portal mirror we built.”

“It is something to be proud of, isn’t it?” Vil swirled the wine in his glass, gazing wistfully across the crowd. He spotted a familiar face here and there, people who would always be important to him even if they ended up drifting apart. “It’s amazing what a bunch of high schoolers can accomplish with enough time and effort.”

“Even then, we cut it really close. It’ll be good to move on to other projects.” Riddle sighed. “I’ve been slacking in my studies. I only received a 4.8 last semester.”

Riddle had just finished his first year specializing in magical law. It was a scarily perfect career path for him. The even scarier thing was that Azul had started at the same school at the same time, and the two of them often worked together on “projects” these days. Vil really, really hoped that Riddle would never cave on basic morals and principles as easily as he’d caved over the champagne. That would almost certainly doom them all.

As the grads finished their ceremony and filed out to join their families and friends, Vil excused himself and made his way to the meeting place they’d decided on beforehand. There, by the new hall that had been built two years ago, Jack was staring out into the courtyard, scanning over the repaired buildings of the school he had loved so much. He smiled as he saw Vil approaching.

“Hey, handsome.” Jack said, pulling him into a tender embrace.

“Hey, handsomer.”

Jack let out a little chuckle, air puffing up the hair on top of Vil’s head.

“Congratulations, Jack. Did your speech go well?”

“Eh, it was easy. All that practice helped.”

“Your dorm members are going to be so sad to see you go. Those boys adore you, you know.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be fine. Good eggs, those kids.” Jack smiled wistfully. “Speaking of eggs, Deuce pulled off a pretty good speech, too.”

“I still can’t believe he made housewarden. But the more I think about it, the more perfect a choice he seems.”

“He really got his shit together sophomore year. Guess he got to be the honor student after all.”

“Good for him. He deserves it, after all the work he put in. Don’t ever tell him I said that.”

“Roger that.”

They stood in silence for a moment, looking out over the bustling courtyard as families and friends tearfully congratulated each other. For some of them, this would be the last time they would ever speak to their very best friend.

“I’m gonna miss this place.” Jack murmured. His hand slipped into Vil’s, the way it always did when he wanted to be vulnerable and honest. It helped him, Vil knew.

“I still miss it. But it’s not goodbye forever. You can still come back and see your underclassmen when they graduate.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same.”

He was right, it wasn’t. Vil laced his fingers with Jack’s. A cool almost-summer breeze blew through the courtyard, rustling the familiar apple trees overhead. “Did I ever tell you about the time Yuu lectured us in this courtyard for two hours?”

“They did? Hm. Sounds like them.”

“I was annoyed at the time, but now… I’m glad they did. They said a lot of things we really needed to hear. All of us.” He tilted his head, resting it on Jack’s strong shoulder. His boyfriend smiled down at him and planted a kiss on the crown of his head.

They watched the courtyard for a few more minutes, just thinking of the memories they’d made here. The good ones, the bad ones, the ones they’d had together, the ones they’d had apart.

It hadn’t been a perfect school. Hell, it hadn’t even been a good school. The headmage was worthless and the teachers were varying degrees of insane, and they’d all failed their students in some spectacular ways. But they had met each other in these hallways, jogged these paths together, shot beans at each other, built Halloween attractions, and taken over an empty lab so they could work on a project that had almost no hope of succeeding. So Vil loved it anyway, this horribly flawed school full of horribly flawed people.

Because places are only worth something if the people there are worth something.

Eventually, Jack’s siblings found them and dragged them back to the cafeteria. There, they slipped into a crowd of people all connected by a common sorrow. But they celebrated and drank and danced anyway, late into the night.

---

“We should move in together once you graduate.” Vil said, as casually as suggesting a restaurant for their next date.

Jack’s ears shot up. He shifted in the hotel bed to stare at him like he’d lost his mind. They’d gotten one separate from the rest of his family, for obvious reasons. “Seriously? You’re thinking that far ahead? I’m gonna be gone for 4 whole years.”

“You won’t be gone. Now that Fairweather has wrapped up, I’m only working on the brand and taking short-term jobs. I can visit you practically any time I’m not working, and I plan on taking advantage of that. The only reason I’m not asking you to move in with me right now is because I know you want to have the ‘real’ college experience. You know, being broke and drunk all the time.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when he realized that he had no rebuttal. Vil smiled softly at him. The early morning sun was beginning to rise, shining through the window and casting beautiful golden light against Jack’s skin. He always looked so perfect like this.

Jack realized he wasn’t going to get anything by him so he dropped his head on the pillow with a huff. “I want to do that. I really do. Move in with ya, I mean. But… not until I’m done with school and start working, too.”

“I understand. You don’t want to just be a trophy boyfriend. Even if you are the best prize there is.” Vil chuckled. Jack rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, too. Vil held his hand over the covers, his thin fingers gently caressing Jack’s skin.

His voice softened. There was always a bit of that anxiety left when he tried to be open like this, but it was so much easier to push past it now.

“I just want you to know that I’m serious about this. About us. If… If I could ask you to marry me, I would. But I know that’s too fast. You still have so much to do.”

“Then in four years, when I’m done, I’ll be the one to ask you.”

Vil’s eyes widened.

“…Jack.”

“I already know what I want, Vil.” Jack reached out to brush his cheek, his touch and his voice both so gentle and loving and sexy. “I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. I spent a long time wantin’ that.”

Vil felt tears forming in his eyes. He cupped his hand around Jack’s, just feeling the warmth of his palm against his cheek.

“…Do you want kids?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“I’d like it if we had a son,” Vil whispered, “And one day he’ll go to Night Raven. And we’ll be able to cheer for him when he graduates.”

“That would be nice.” Jack whispered back.

“Only if he wants to, though. He’ll be amazing no matter what.”

“O’course he will be, with dads like us.”

Jack leaned over him, his amber eyes sparkling in the morning sun. He smiled down at Vil, a light blush on his cheeks. He could still be embarrassed by cheesy, romantic moments like this, and he probably always would be. Vil loved it. He still couldn’t believe this man was really his.

But every time Jack kissed him, he would remember. Just like the way he was kissing him now, so soft and hot and true. With little bites and growls and moans every time he scratched the back of Jack’s neck.

No moment would ever be able to compare to this.

Except, maybe, for their wedding. But he’d have to wait a little longer to find out.

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

And here are a few extra bits of art I made to figure out character designs and stuff.

[shadow-bringer-ao3]

The Weight of the World

The story Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura weave is entirely unbelievable. They don’t offer names or timeframes, don’t toss about accusations, but their meaning is clear regardless. Clear and impossible. They don’t say it outright but they don’t need to. Time travel is distinctive enough on it’s own. It also doesn’t exist. To manipulate time to that degree would be hubris. Even the Hiraishin teeters on the edge of the natural and unnatural worlds. It’s near instant transportation, after all, and that requires the user to dabble in time itself.

What the three before him are implying, however, is that they pulled themselves back through time before their own births. They would have nothing to tie themselves to this time and so they shouldn’t have been able to time travel. Sakura catches his gaze and he can tell she’s serious in her claims, just as her teammates are with theirs. She tilts her head into the slightest nod.

"We didn’t make the seal on our own," she says and her quiet voice cuts through the argument most of the rest of the room has dissolved into like a hot knife through butter. "I don’t think we could have. Naruto has a talent for fuuinjutsu like most of his family but he was never taught to create seals, to use that talent. Sasuke and I have skilled that lie in different areas." Tobirama’s lips twist and he itches to deny what the pink-haired medic is saying. What she’s going to say.

"How did you do it, then?" Izuna asks, slow and dangerous. He’s figured it out at well. Madara and Hashirama- they just look lost. They haven’t been watching the trio, though, not like Tobirama and Izuna have. They’ve been on the outskirts of this mess and now they’ve been drawn in only because their time traveling guests wanted them to. Sakura rocks back on her heels, humming low in her throat. Sasuke and Naruto seem content to let her have the lead.

"We found the basis for the seal. It was half-finished, made by a man who knew where it all went wrong and wanted it changed, fixed. The Nidaime never had the chance to finish or to use it but we stumbled across it and we were far more determined than our enemies gave us credit for. Far more desperate. The seal took too much chakra for even an Uzumaki Jinchuuriki to activate. Too much even for three chakra tanks. Luckily, there were five of us. A Hokage with nothing to preside over, a medic with no one to heal, a man who got his revenge and found himself all the worse for it. Our sensei, broken and jagged from a lifetime of betrayal and loosing those closest to him. A man who saw the ending his action wrought and realized that it wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth that ending." Sakura shrugs delicately.

"We’re here to ask for help," Naruto says, quieter and more somber than Tobirama has ever seen him. "To save the world. To save Konoha."

"And how would we do that?" Madara asks suspiciously, as he should. The trio of impossibilities exchanges a long, darkly amused look.

"Prepare your strongest attacks?" Sasuke offers with a sharp grin, his one visible eye spinning into the mangyekou sharingan. Tobirama tenses, rolling forward on his toes so he could easily stop whatever attack is coming. The attack, of course, doesn’t come from anyone he expects. Instead, the air twists, and a half-black, half-white plant person that looks almost like an aloe vera (or a Venus flytrap, he thinks, remembering Naruto’s words from earlier) is dumped into the center of the room. He, like any sane shinobi, immediately attempts to drown it with a Water Dragon. At the same time, Hashirama tries to rip the creature apart with mokuton. His water is soon replaced by fire- both regular and Amaterasu. Someone is screaming and Tobirama punches Izuna on principal. There’s a miniature explosion that doesn’t destroy the Hokage’s office only because of the many, many seals on the room. The room is also charged with electricity and Tobirama realizes that it’s really too small of a room for seven people (nine- where did the one-eyed Uchiha and Hatake pair come from?) to collectively attack a sentient plant. A plant planning world domination, if Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke are to be believed.

As suddenly as the chaos started, it comes to a stop. The room is strangely silent in the absence of screaming and jutsu being thrown about. There is a soggy blackened char in the center of the room that used to be some sort of living creature. They all watch the charbroiled pile for a moment before Naruto laughs shakily.

"Well that was easier than I- HOLY FUCK IT TWITCHED!" He shrieks, voice reaching impressive octaves. Naruto, Sasuke, Madara, and Hashirama proceed to attack again, despite the fact that the ‘twitch’ was just the charcoal crumbling. The screaming from earlier was apparently a joint effort between Madara, Hashirama, and Naruto, one that they resume now. Sakura sighs, or Tobirama assumes she does, he can’t hear her, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. Tobirama understands the sentiment, glowering at the four idiots, two of which are his. The second attack settles and what was charcoal is now a very tiny pile of fine ash. It’s hard to believe the pile was once at all a human-sized sentient plant creature.

"Are you done?" Tobirama asks. Hashirama smiles wobbly, looking like he’s on the verge of tears.

"J-just as long a-as it doesn’t t-twitch again." Tobirama finds himself exchanging a glance with Izuna, which he never would have though possible a year ago. The Uchiha heir gives the pile of ash a doubtful look.

"I don’t think it can twitch, even if it wanted to," he remarks dryly. Tobirama snorts.

"It’d be a bit impressive, actually," he agrees, apparently much to Hashirama and Naruto’s horror. The door creaks open and Hashirama’s assistant pokes his head in, shaking like a leaf. Everyone turns towards the poor man and Tobirama realizes, rather suddenly, that they never activated the silencing seals.

"I-i-is everything a-alright?" The man squeaks out. Then, without warning and before anyone can respond to the poor assistant, Izuna turns and swipes his legs out from under him and he lands on the floor with a crash. He blinks up at the Uchiha heir before shrugging as best as he could while on the ground.

"Fair enough," he says agreeably. The assistant faints.

Part 7

[ghost-ghost-baby]

We're Just Friends! (Omega!bakugo x alpha!reader x omega!Izuku) pt. 1/?

Pt 2 / pt. 3

A/n: kinda annoyed that I had to split this but it’s almost 2k words so,,,, another series is born!!!

Lore: Once an Alpha reaches 21 they get their first rut, they’d either already have their mates or the rut will act as a push for them to get together and bond.

Summary: Reader and Katsuki have been friends for years, and everyone expects them to get together, until reader rescues an omega that lives in their building, and things get a touch more... complicated

Warnings: omegaverse, obvi, yandere themes (my boi Izuku is a stalker), possessiveness, pining, hurt/comfort, reader is kinda dense, mad swearing,

“So are you and Bakugo like- ya know-?” Mina mimed what you assumed was meant to be a bonding bite, and you thanked god Katsuki was elsewhere.

You were sitting in the college park with Denki and Mina, and since you were approaching your 21st birthday, when alphas usually decided on their mate, or mates if they wanted a triad, and they were grilling you to high heaven-

“No, we’ve just know each other since we were teenagers so we’re just kinda close friends!” You waved your arms frantically, and Mina just raised her eyebrows as Denki laughed.

“Bro- we’ve seen him scent you, you’re always lending him your jackets that reeks of you, and you’re trying to say the two of you aren’t courting?” The blonde stopped laughing just long enough to ask, but he dissolved back into laughter when your flustered scent filled the space.

“I tried to bring it up with Katsuki but you know what he’s like! I asked what he was gonna do for his heat and he locked me out of the apartment! I don’t think he wants an alpha at all, really-“ you stopped the second your nose picked up the familiar burnt sugar smell, frantically shushing Mina and Denki when they made kissing noises as Katsuki approached.

“You forgot your fucking lunch, dumbass.” He dropped a bag in your lap, completely ignoring your friends as he inhaled and then gently shoved your head. “Why the fuck do you smell so worked up?” The hint of concern in his voice made your heart twinge, maybe you did wish things were different, but you pushed that thought aside as you reassured him nothing was wrong and you were just worried about a test. Katsuki believed you, barely, reminding you not to be late to dinner before he stalked off to god knows where, Denki and Mina bombarding you the second he was out of sight.

You were two minutes from home when you smelt it, an omegas scent that was so distressed it almost had you gagging. You back tracked your steps to where it was strongest, heart dropping when you couldn’t see down the alley but could hear some kind of scuffle. Katsuki was going to kill you. You walked down the alley as quietly as you could, the distressed scent only getting stronger and sending your protective instincts into overdrive, and if you weren’t so worried maybe you would have stopped to wonder why the omegas scent was affecting you so much.

“But you smell so sweet omega, surely you’re close to your heat?” That voice made your skin crawl, and the nails you had been digging into your palm were quickly turning into claws.

“I-I’m not really, please, I just want to go home- I’m sure you have places to be-“ the second voice trembled and your heart broke at the fear in it, that must be the omega.

“Bullshit, we can fuckin smell how much you want it-“ the third voice was accompanied by a thud, and distressed chirps followed, pushing you over the line and causing a growl to rip out of your throat.

“Well look here, somembody else wants to join-“ the sleazeballs voice cut off when you stepped into the light, your teeth bared with your canines extended, when an alpha was this pissed off the best thing to do was run. You kinda hoped they didn’t.

“Don’t worry man, we can all share him-“ The second one tried to passify you, but couldn’t help baring his neck in submission when you let out an even louder growl, your angered scent pumping off of you in waves.

“Leave. Now. Before I make sure the two of you never fucking mate anyone.” A feral grin spread over your face at their fearful scents, unable to resist tripping one of them when they ran past. Only once they’d disappeared onto the Main Street did you register the distressed chirps coming from the figure hunched on the ground, and your scent instantly switched to as comforting as you could get it, subconsciously crooning to try and calm the omega down. It seemed to work, and you gently crouched down across from him, desperately wanting to hug him but not wanting to over step. The decision was made for you, however, when the omega launched at you, rubbing his cheek against yours and thanking you over and over in one of the sweetest voices you’d ever heard.

“Hey no problem, uh, what’s your name?” You asked when he finally calmed down, pulling back just enough to take out his features. You almost got a nosebleed. Teary emerald eyes and matching green hair framed his face, with freckles dusting his cheeks and a slight blush covering his entire face, you were so in awe you almost didn’t hear his name.

“Sorry! I’m Izuku Midoryia- I live just down the street and was walking home when these guys chased me down here, thank you so much for saving me!” He hesitated, and you realised you hadn’t even told him your name.

“Oh! I’m y/n l/n! Do you live in the big blue apartment complex?” You gently stood up, reaching down to help Midoriya up with you, and ignoring how warm you felt when he immediately nuzzled into your side.

“Yeah! Do you know it? I only moved in a couple days ago!”

“I actually live there with my friend, I can walk you home if you’re comfortable with that?” You almost died when he let out a happy chirp, he was so cute.

“That would be so amazing, are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“Oh course not- anything to make sure you get home safely!

Midoriya had moved into the apartment opposite yours, (you were too tired to wonder if it was more than a coincidence) and the two of you had laughed about it before you said goodbye, promising to catch up again at a later date. Now, you were standing outside your apartment door, ready to face the music from what would surely be a very, very angry friend. Katsukis enraged scent hit you the second you walked in the door, almost completely covering the smell of the ramen that must have been dinner, and you called out as you took off your shoes.

“Katsuki, I’m home, sorry I’m so late! You wouldn’t believe what-“ you were cut off by a growl, slowly straightening up and looking across the room to where your housemate stood. Katsuki stalked towards you, and you froze when you saw how wide his pupils were blown, was he really that pissed about you being late?

“Why the fuck do you reek like some scared omega.” He snarled, and your eyes zoned in on how his fangs had elongated. Shit, this was bad, was he nearing his preheat? That could make make him more sensitive-

“Funny story- I was walking home and I heard this commotion and…” you trailed off when he reached you, red eyes fixed on your neck in a way that made you blush.

“I don’t care, you smell fucking disgusting.” He pulled you close once he reached you, and you were too scared to say anything, face going bright red when he rubbed his scent glands over you, until your scent just smelt like him.

“That’s better, now we can actually eat before you shower and get the remainder of that stench off of you.”

Katsuki didn’t know why he was so on edge, and when you came home smelling familiar, that mint and honey scent that he hadn’t encountered in years, his instincts had pushed him over the edge. You were his, how dare you let some other omega scent you? The two of you were practically together, he cooked for you and scented you, and you’d scent blankets and pillows and such for his nest, so why the fuck were you coming home reeking like that? He was just waiting until you turned 21 and had your rut for the two of you to seal the deal. He couldn’t sleep, growling to himself as he realised the only way he’d get any rest was with you. The apartment was dark as he quietly opened his door, walking down the hallway and not even hesitating before he opened the door to your room. You were asleep in the middle of the bed, hair a mess over the pillows and your shirt rumpled up so your midriff was exposed. The room was saturated in your content scent, and Katsuki let out a sigh of relief when that was all he could smell, other than his own scent quickly spreading through the room and mingling with yours. He padded over to the bed, crawling under the covers and positioning himself so he was facing you, his face pressed to your neck and one arm thrown over you. You mumbled something in your sleep but didn’t wake, and Katsuki couldn’t help but let out a happy chirp when you automatically rested your arm on his waist, pulling him closer till your legs were tangled together. It was… more peaceful than he was used to, and he pushed down the nagging feeling that something was missing, your scent and warmth quickly lulling him to sleep.

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHTEEN || SAGE

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood + mention of killing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 10 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ next episode : black flash

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i did cringe a bit writing this episode for some reason ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ but also i have been getting a lot of asks in my inbox asking me if you can add me on genshin impact, and i am not opposed to that! just tell me in advance  ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also volume one of komi can’t communicate came in today! also...the idea i have is coming in soon...so beware.....BUT thank you so much for being so patient with the series and hope you enjoy this special cup of classic black coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

Destructive Curse Spell Number Fifty-Four : Haien : 6:08-6:12 (but like it’s more emphasised to look like this : 1:55-2:05)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“Where the hell is Fushiguro, right now?” you muttered under your breath as you swiftly ran around the extremely large building you were currently in right now after trying to run away from Kyoto student: Kamo Noritoshi, who seemed too adamant to catch you for some odd reason.

At this current moment in time, you were desperately trying to find your partner after instantly splitting up with him when you both had entered the building causing you to become concerned for the shikigami user since his opponent didn’t seem to be holding back. Even though in the back of your mind, this was your one and only opportunity to go and find the curse you needed to exorcise for your school team to win the first day of the Exchange Event, you knew that the second that Kamo could sense your curse energy leave the premises, he would turn away from his battle and chase you down leaving Fushiguro the role of trying to locate you - which was going to be difficult for him.

Digging into your skirt pocket, you quickly pulled out a fist that had a few pink petals that you had kept after you had used some of them to attack Kamo earlier before gradually transferring some of your cursed energy within them. Slowly, you processed to open your palm letting the same blush coloured petals begin to glide into the air allowing them to travel down the hall you were running through right now causing specks of your cursed energy to be located everywhere they moved to lead your opponents to be somewhat confused about where you really were right now.

                                              ꕥ

“Your team partner seemed to be the smart type,” Kamo mentioned as he turned his head to look behind him since he slowly began to sense the chaotic flow of cursed energy that was beginning to vastly surround the building right now as he was quickly struggling to locate the original source of the cursed energy that he needed to find, which was you.

“She’s always been the smart type, it’s quite scary in my opinion,” Fushiguro commented before raising his tonfas in a defensive position before taking the time given to him to try to locate where you were before giving up the second he tried once his discovered how immense your cursed energy was flowing in the building right now.

‘What the hell? How does she do that?’

Hastily, Fushiguro lunged himself forward as he attempted to attack Kamo leading his opponent to block his hit before suddenly retaliating, only for Fushiguro to defend himself quickly as well. However, it seemed as if both sorcerers were not going to give up as easily as a continuous row of attacks commenced between the two causing them to travel backwards and forwards along the hallway they were in right now.

Suddenly, there was a violent contact with the backs of their wrists leading Kamo to proceed to swiftly turn his body to the side of the opposition as he forcibly thrust his palm out towards the shikigami user causing Fushiguro to use his remaining tonfa to block his attack causing his weapon to snap in half as well as him being pushed back to the other side of the hallway where he first stood.

Staring down at the now tattered wooden weapon, Fushiguro casually threw it to the side leading Kamo to begin to spew out with what was currently running through his mind.

“Shikigami users who can fight this well in close combat are precious, you’ve improved. I’m happy,” Kamo expressed with an impressed tone, leading Fushiguro to unexpectedly cringe at the amount of time you had beaten him up during the past two months of training you both had together.

“What is this sense of fellowship you keep throwing out?” Fushiguro asked in an irritated tone since he wasn’t in the mood to converse about anything to do with the clans at this moment in time.

“I��m sympathising, someday you’ll be one of those supporting the major clans, well maybe the four major clans if the L/N remained after the Heian Era,” Kamo suggested, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to look at the opposition with a deadpan expression painted on his face.

“Gojo doesn’t even support the clans even though she is in the Gojo clan,” Fushiguro reminded Kamo leading to the sorcerer in front of him to shift slightly as if the news to him was surprising at all since it seemed as if you and the strongest sorcerer was ‘close’ despite the joking tension between you both.

“I intend to kill Itadori Yuji,” Kamo suddenly announced, as if that was not known to everyone within the Tokyo team right now.

“On Principal Gakuganji’s orders? So why chase after Gojo?” Fushiguro questioned, as he was still perplexed on why the blood manipulation sorcerer would go after you if his main priority was to eliminate his friend and classmate.

“No, it’s my personal decision. As a member of the Kamo clan, one of the three major clans, I believe that’s the right call,” Kamo answered before going silent, as if he had something in mind currently before he began to voice his opinion once again, “you should be able to understand that, too,”.

“Sorry, but I really don’t get it at all”

Suddenly, Kamo unexpectedly left something lightly slice his cheek slightly causing him to turn to view what was behind him to notice that you were standing there with your armed raised up, leading him to turn back forward to discover your katana piercing the wall that was behind Fushiguro (who looked at you with widened eyes) as your teammate managed to move his head to the side in time before your weapon pierced him instead.

“Oh, I missed,” you commented as you noticed a hint of blood escaping from his small wound, before using your other hand to violently pull the invisible chain of your katana back like a boomerang leading Kamo to swiftly dodge the weapon this time, while being surprised on how you had managed to retrieve your sword back without moving an inch towards it.

“What do you mean? You, me and Fushiguro are the same,” Kamo then declared, causing you to give him an extremely offended look from behind before turning to the side as if to convey to the sorcerer that you weren’t going to listen to him anymore.

“No, we’re not,” Fushiguro replied with an annoyed as well as fed-up expression on his face, as he didn’t expect his opponent to say something as weird as he did right now.

‘He’s spouting some scary stuff all of a sudden...and couldn’t Gojo warn me about this little attack of hers?’

“We are,” Kamo responded, only for Fushiguro to retaliate back leading you to turn your head back to the conversation with a slightly vexed look since you didn’t want such a stupid discussion between two descendants of the three major clans to go on forever like this.

“We’re not, please save those discussions for Maki-san. I no longer have any connection with the Zenin clan,” Fushiguro informed his opponent causing Kamo to turn to you as if you would try to have an understanding of what he was trying to carry out.

“Remember, I don’t actually have any connections to the Gojo clan, I’m not related to them by blood and even if Gojo-sensei adopted me out of the blue,” you explained to Kamo while raising your hands up like you were surrendering when really you were trying to avoid any topic to do with the clans overall.

“Besides, I don’t believe I’m ‘right’. No, sorry. That’s not right, I don’t care if I’m right or wrong,” Fushiguro commented as he looked down towards his raised hand with a softened expression to which caused Kamo to turn back to the shikigami user.

“I just...have faith in my own good conscience, I save people according to my own conscience. If you would reject that, then...we’ll just have to curse each other,” Fushiguro suddenly declared, as a wave of cursed energy began to surround him causing you to sudden be on guard since you didn’t know what your classmate had prepared.

Unexpectedly, a shikigami frog appeared from the side causing you to prepare yourself in an attack stance in case Kamo decided to move towards you, to which he did turn to face you only for the same shikigami to dissolve into the shadow it had come from leading Kamo to open his eyes in shock at the common but smart strategy that the younger sorcerer had come up with.

“This one burns through cursed energy, so I can only use it by itself. I only recently tamed it,” Fushiguro explained before positioning his hands in front of him as he prepared the next shikigami that he was going to summon.

“Max elephant,” the shikigami user announced before the shadow below him began to merge into the shape of a pink elephant leading you to look at the animal with widened eyes as you didn’t expect such a large shikigami to appear right in front of you.

‘What the hell?’ you thought, as the elephant’s cheeks began to swell up while Kamo began to position himself into an attack position. However, it seemed the elephant was going to attack first as a suddenly sprouted out a massive wave of water that could fill up the ocean, causing you to yell out in shock before quickly deciding to stab your katana deeply into the ground to have something to hold on to as Kamo quickly swept into the mass of water leading to the wall behind to break.

“Maybe tell me when you are going to attack, you drag!” you yelled out to your classmate in anger as he rushed next to you causing your partner to look at you weirdly since you were kind of being hypocritical at this current moment in time.

“Just jump across to attack him while I use Nue to corner him!” Fushiguro stated to you in a serious tone, leading you to nod at him before launching yourself forward towards the sorcerer with your katana blade facing the opposite direction it was supposed to since you didn’t want to critically damage your opponent.

Behind you, Fushiguro interlocked his thumbs before fanning out the rest of his finger to represent wings as he swiftly summoned Nue into the battle leading the bird-like creature to strike him with lightning, paralysing Kamo for a second before he suddenly reached into his uniform to slowly reveal a bag of blood to which he then proceeded to throw the object in your direction, causing Nue to bump into you as if to move you away from the item as the blood bag quickly exploded causing the shikigami to be trapped within what seemed to be a rope of blood.

However, you could not let the sudden event faze you as you proceeded to place your foot to the side of the building you were pushed against before thrusting yourself downwards with extreme force to attack Kamo while Fushiguro dashed towards the same opponent to do the same thing.

“I can’t afford to lose!” Kamo screamed as he began to lung forward towards Fushiguro.

Suddenly, a large explosion destructively echoed behind you leading you to reach to the ground with one hand before riskily twisting the same hand to make your body spin before you quickly landed of your feet to the ground causing Fushiguro to look at you with a worried expression before all three of you peered up above to see a vast structure of what seemed to be wood, growing ever to rapidly in the air.

“What is this?” Kamo questioned in a panic before Fushiguro noticed someone running along the tiles rooftop from above.

“Inumaki-senpai?!” Fushguro yelled out in an alarmed tone causing you to look to the side to see your senior classmate running in what seemed to be incomplete adrenaline and fear.

“Run-away!” Inumaki spoke, causing his voice to ring out to everyone as they realised that it was his cursed technique that was occurring right now, causing your bodies to instantly run away from the mass destruction that was occurring right now.

                                              ꕥ

“Huh?” Utahime muttered as she stared at the how red flamed paper talisman while everyone in the room with her peered at them with the same surprised expression.

“The game’s over? And they all burned red?” Utahime questioned as the flames quickly extinguished themselves leading to a large volume of smoke remaining.

“That’s odd, my crows didn’t see anything,” MeiMei commented.

“I’d love to say Great Teacher Gojo’s students exorcised them all, but…” Gojo mentioned as he placed his hands together as if to tell everyone in the room that he was thinking of another solution that might have caused this issue as all the screens in front of them now became static.

“The charms will burn red for unregistered cursed energy,” Principal Yaga informed everyone.

“You think it’s an outsider? Some invader?” Utahime queried, as she turned to her colleague with a concerned expression on her face.

“Does this mean Tengen-sama’s barrier isn’t functioning?” MeiMei then asked, but it wasn’t answered as Principal Gakuganji made a comment. 

“Whether it’s an outsider or not, something unexpected is happening all the same,” he mentioned before wondering how this intruder was able to exorcise the semi-first-grade he had planted in order to assassinate Itadori Yuji.

“I’m going to Tengen-sama, Satoru and Principal Gakuganji, please protect the students. Mei, you stay here and identify the locations of the students, stay in constant contact with the other two,” Principal Yaga instructed everyone.

“Fully understood, I look forward to the bonus,” MeiMei mentioned, as she turned her head towards the sorcerer trying to convey that she was willing to follow his instruction with a price to pay.

“Come on, Gramps! Time for a walk! You just finished your lunch, didn’t you? I don’t want my daughter injured with you being slow!” Gojo stated in a light but playful tone as he clapped his hands twice to get the elder’s attention, leading the mentioned sorcerer to become silent and annoyed at the Six-Eye shaman.

“Let’s hurry!” Utahime mentioned as she was becoming worried about the time they were spending on talking in the room they were in rather than going out right now to help the students that were in trouble.

                                               ꕥ

Running forward, you couldn’t help but notice how the branch that was behind you was still extending leading you to quicken your pace as everyone turned to the right, only for the same branch to twist itself in the same directions causing you to come to the conclusion that it was either a skilled curse user or special-grade curse that was the cause of it.

‘Did the mole tell whoever is doing this the location of the event?’

Although, before you could come to another conclusion on who was the mole within the group of Kyoto students, you suddenly heard Fushiguro gasp leading you to snap out of your thinking daze to see a large number of branches breaking through the wooden door that was in front of you leading to a vast volume of debris to rushingly come towards you to which caused you to over your face, allowing the veil that was processing to drip down above you to engulf every student at this current moment in time.

Once the huge mass of debris cleared itself, you noticed the change in colour around you before you turned your head towards the mass of branches in front of you with what seemed to be a curse standing on top of its masterpiece as if to showcase its sudden appearance.

“Why is there a cursed spirit at Jujutsu Tech? Who does this veil belong to?” Kamo asked rapidly, as his head was tilted up to view the intruder in front of him.

“Probably the curse user working with the cursed spirit,” Fushiguro answered, as he too was looking at the curse in front of him leading Kamo to question his knowledge about the situation in hand, while Inumaki let out a cough, causing you to worry about his condition right now since you didn’t have a single clue on how much he had used his voice in the current situation.

“There are a few unregistered special-grade cursed spirits roaming around Japan right now, probably this one was the one that attacked Gojo-sensei before,” you informed the sorcerers in front of you as you slowly began to remember the silly little drawing your adoptive father had given you when you first met with the Kyoto side’s principal.

“Tuna with mayo,” Inumaki commented as he waved a hand to signal a phone leading Fushiguro to agree with his upperclassmen as he proceeded to pull out his phone to contact Gojo, while Kamo commented on how Fushiguro could understand his classmate at all since he was still perplexed on how the Toyko students could even convey with him as well.

‘Why does it only look at me…?’

Yet, it seems as if you weren’t concentrating on their little conversation as you kept an eye on the curse since it seemed to be staring at you for some odd reason, leading you to tightly grip the hilt of your katana, as you now shifted your eyes down to make sure your fellow sorcerers (who were in front of you right now) were safe for the time being.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Fushiguro mentioned, as he placed his phone to his ear. “Maintain our distance and retreat to Gojo-sensei- '' Fushiguro then explained, but before he could finish his sentence, the curse swiftly moved behind Kamo before proceeding to break Fushiguro’s device from his hand.

“Don’t move!” Inumaki yelled out, leading to the curse freezing in its position before attacking Kamo, leading everyone to keep a distance away from the special-grade curse.

Suddenly, Kamo grabbed another bag of blood that he kept hidden within his uniform before letting it explode once again as he began to maintain control of the red substance. “Blood Manipulation: Slicing Exorcism!” Kamo yelled out before swinging the blood shaped shuriken towards your opponent, only for the curse to be left unscathed leaving the sorcerer to be surprised at the outcome.

Before the curse could even react, Nue suddenly appeared above you before flying downwards towards the special-grade curse with the same purple lightning you have gotten used to before Fushiguro suddenly swept in close to slash the curse with a sword he was hiding within his shadow like you had taught him to within the first week of training. However, it seemed that the katana’s dent that was made only healed as quickly as it appeared causing Fushiguro to tut in complete annoyance.

“.nerdlihc hsiloof, ti potS,”

“Stop it, foolish children,” the curse suddenly said, causing you to grab your head in surprise as you didn’t expect the curse that was in front of you right now to communicate to you at all since you didn’t have a clue on what it was saying but you somehow could understand it.

“I merely wish to protect this planet, that’s all,” the curse then explained, causing you to prepare your cursed energy to flow from your hand to your katana since you now knew that you needed to use your cursed technique to keep the others safe - yet you didn’t know how you could conceal the risk of being discovered.

“It’s a curse spouting nonsense! Don’t listen!” Kamo exclaimed intensely.

“This is on a whole different level than lower-grade cursed spirits,” Fushiguro then commented to Kamo as if it was obvious enough to everyone that was around that opponent at this current moment in time.

“The forests, the oceans, and the sky, all weep so vehemently that I can no longer stand it. It’s impossible to coexist with humans any longer. They know there are some humans who are kind to the planet, but how much does their affection even help?” the curse declared as it raised its head up to the sky as if it was speaking to a whole nation.

‘It somehow established its own language system...and somehow manages to communicate with us…’

“All they desire is time. This planet can shine blue once more, given a bit of time,” the curse spoke again before a sudden twist of branches appeared right behind the curse leading everyone that was in front of it to be on guard as the sudden impact that caused the ground to shake was evident enough on how dangerous this opponent was.

“Gojo Y/N...You can’t run, the veil is designed to keep you trapped within here...We need you for what is going to commence,” the curse suddenly declared causing you to look at it with wide eyes while all the boys turned to you with panicked expression painted on their faces since they were now concerned with your safety more right now than theirs.

‘I don’t know how long this curse spell will last, but I need to make sure it is enough to let everyone run before it can reach them’

“Is that so? Ah..what a drag,” you then asked, as you raised your katana up in the air with one hand as you gradually began to transfer a large amount of cursed energy within the blade. “You see, I began to notice that you seem to be a plant type of curse, I assume...something like wood right?” you rhetorically asked, before using your other hand to cover your mouth with the back of it to conceal the next few words that were going to come out of your mouth.

“Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien,” you whispered before a sudden flame began to engulf the metal blade leading the boy to look at your weapon in astonishment at how wild the flames seemed to be due to the amount of cursed energy you had placed within the same blade. “So...why don’t you just burn to death them, would you?” you threatened in a low tone causing the boys to dash behind you before you swung your katana downwards to allow the flames to wildly and uncontrollably burst out in front of the special-grade curse leading to the building behind it to begin slowly extinguishing with the massive flames.

Turning around, you grabbed the fabric of Fushiguro’s and Inuamki’s uniforms (while yelling at Kamo to run) before using your strength as well as a hint of your cursed energy to violently push them forward away from the flames before running towards the same direction with them since this was the perfect opportunity to make a dash for it without any of the boys getting injured or harm in the process.

‘Whoever is responsible for the veil...is going to die..’

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. nine.

eight < current > ten

Dec. 24, 2017

You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.

A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.

You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.

You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.

Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.

When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.

Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.

When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.

Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.

Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.

“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.

Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”

-

A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”

“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.

Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”

“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.

“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”

“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.

Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.

“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.

Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”

“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”

A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.

“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.

Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.

“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.

Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”

“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”

“A big-shot sorcerer.”

“Tuna.”

“The annoying side of the family,” you add.

Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.

“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.

“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.

“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[bring-it-all-down]

I think it’s easy to think of Vane’s season one arc as being out of place with the rest of his time on the show, but I’d like to offer an alternative understanding. I think that Vane’s arc is an extremely cohesive examination of Hobbes’s social contract theory that begins with its acceptance and ends with its complete rejection. This is a rather lengthy analysis, but it’s one that people might find interesting if not compelling.

Hobbes’s Social Contract Theory

Central to Hobbes’s conception of political life are four terms: liberty, equality, fear, and power. Liberty for Hobbes is “the absence of external impediments” such as water being enclosed by riverbanks or humans being chained to something (xiv). This conception of liberty is purely physical, detailing a relationship between concrete things. Next, Hobbes understands equality as being the equal ability of one to kill another; there is no natural inequality among human beings as anyone has the power to kill any other person, either through strength of body or of mind, or of some combination of the two. Because everybody has equal power over everyone else’s life and one’s ability to be free, Hobbes states, “they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man” (XIII). This condition necessarily leads to “continual fear, and danger of violent death” (xiii).  

Finally, Hobbes defines power as the ability to acquire some future good. This conception of power stems from the fact that there is no private property in Hobbes’s state of nature: “It is consequent also to the same condition that there be no propriety, no dominion, no mine and thine distinct; but only that to be every man’s that he can get, and for so long as he can keep it” (XIII). Power, according to Hobbes, manifests itself in two ways: natural or instrumental. Natural power is acquisition through using physical characteristics like strength and intelligence, whereas instrumental acquisition requires one to use one’s reputation, friends, good luck, etc. 

It is this fear of death and desire for acquisition that leads us to form political communities, which is our natural end; we are meant to live in communities. These communities form when their members “confer all their power and strength upon one man, or upon one assembly of men, that may reduce all their wills, by plurality of voices, unto one will” (xvii). This singular power, known as the Leviathan, is absolute; it cannot be transferred to another body (no separation of powers) or forfeited, and there is no power above it. The Leviathan enforces this power by tying its subjects through “fear of punishment to the performance of their covenants,” namely their covenant to live peacefully with one another (xvii). 

While the Leviathan’s power is absolute in theory, Hobbes does allow for its dissolution if it becomes too arbitrary or capricious on the ground that it would then plunge a civil society back into the state of nature, from which point they would be allowed to choose a new sovereign. However, because the state of nature is so feared, people are highly unlikely to dissolve the Leviathan’s power. This, then, is how authoritarian states justify their power.

In this account of the social contract theory of government, we see the relationship among liberty, equality, fear, and power. In order for people to fully exercise their liberty and power, their fear must be redirected from one another toward a singular entity. This creation of an unequal civil society is what allows for the development of private property, as well as concepts like justice and morality, which are absent in the state of nature due to the lack of agreed upon definitions. 

Vane’s Season 1 Arc

Initially, Vane appears to embrace a Hobbesian conception of the state of nature. His season 1 arc, I believe, is his embrace of Hobbes’s state of nature through the confrontation of the two people who hold power over him: Eleanor and his enslaver. After Eleanor gets him deposed as captain of the Ranger, he tells Idelle, “No captain on this island's ever known that kind of power. Power that doesn't care how many votes you can tally, who loves you, who hates you, who fears you...none of us have any right to hate her for it. She's strong and we're weak. That's the reality of things here. And no one down there is strong enough to change anything” (1.05). Here, Vane reduces things to power. Eleanor has the power to acquire private property and to cut off pirates from doing the same, and so people––including Vane––fear her. To them, she is a quasi-Leviathan figure. However, Nassau exists more as a state of nature than it does as a civil society, and so the possibility of being her equal remains.

While Eleanor threatens Vane’s power, he doesn’t fear her in the same way he fears his enslaver, Albinus, who threatens his life. This constant fear of Albinus manifests itself in Vane hallucinating Albinus’s presence in Nassau. This vision causes Vane to realize that if he is to become equal to Eleanor, he must first become equals with Albinus. He initially seeks to overtake Albinus through taking away his other slaves. He pitches Nassau to them as a place “where strong men live lives of pleasure, not labor, a place where you could be feared and respected once again” (1.07). For Vane, the pleasure comes through realizing one’s equality and thus one’s ability to instill fear rather than have fear instilled in them. As is typical in the state of nature, Vane’s relationship with Albinus ends first with Albinus believing he killed Vane and then with Vane actually killing Albinus. 

Vane’s conversation with Jack upon his return to Nassau cements his role as a Hobbesian figure. He tells Jack, “In some ways, Jack, it had to come to this, don't you think?...Me deciding if you live or die” (1.08). Over the course of the season, Vane has increasingly reduced relationships to the ability one has to kill the other and the fear such ability instills in people. Following a Hobbesian model, then, we would expect Vane to think the formation of civil society with a Leviathan figure to be good, but this is not where his season 2 and 3 arcs go.

Vane’s Season 2 Arc

Indeed, Vane quite explicitly rejects Hobbesian social contract theory. While Hobbes argues that humans are driven toward society in part because of a natural “desire of such things as are necessary to comfortable living” (xiii), Vane says to Flint, “‘Give us your submission, and we will give you the comfort you need.’ No, I can think of no measure of comfort worth that price” (3.08). For Vane, then, living in the “pre-political” Nassau is better than submitting to the power of the state. This is the case because no such “state of nature” exists; there will always be a state attempting to impose its authority on Nassau.

Vane’s separation from Hobbesian political thought, then, begins as a matter of practicality. He does not abandon fear of death as the starting point, but he expands his thought beyond himself. It is no longer simply his own fear of death that drives him, but the fear within his fellow pirates of that same death. After he learns that Charlestown has captured and will kill Flint he tells his and Flint’s crew that “Nassau is strongest when she’s feared. And if what promises to happen here tomorrow actually happens, a trophy made of one of her most notorious captains, she may never be feared again” (2.09). He reiterates this point to his quartermaster, who is concerned that his crew will kill Flint’s crew to steal the Man of War: “Tell them if this ship tries to run on a skeleton crew, they’re going to get chased, they’re going to get caught, and they’re going to get killed” (2.10). It is not fear of one another, then, that drives Vane toward a community but rather fear of the authority of the state. While he and Flint are equals, he realizes that neither is equal to the state, England, and if they remain as individuals, the state will kill them one by one.

Flint’s (and then Vane’s) trial stands as an example of a Hobbesian state; the lawmakers are the executors are the jury. All sovereign authority is placed in the hands of one body with no authority above it. When confronted with this example, Vane comes to conceptualize of community as the only means of instilling fear in the state; as the state is unified, so must be the pirates. 

In accord with Flint telling him “we remind them that they were right to be afraid,” he provides a refutation of Hobbesian sovereignty for the audience: “these men convinced you that they speak for you, that the power you’ve given them is used in your interests. That the prisoner before you is your enemy and they your friends. For those of you who live to see tomorrow... know that you had a choice to see the truth and you let yourselves be convinced otherwise” (2.10). He reminds them that they’ve granted the sovereign power on the basis of it working toward their collective good and can thus conceivably revoke said power. He then illustrates that the sovereign cannot fulfill its purpose of providing for their safety against the threat of pirates and therefore the covenant on which the sovereign’s authority is based is inherently faulty. He pokes metaphorical holes in Hobbes’s contract theory of government before he pokes literal holes in Charlestown with his canons.

Vane’s Season 3 Arc

Vane’s season 3 arc offers an alternative foundation for civil society than fear and desire for property: friendship. When Vane confronts Jack in the first episode of the season for lying to Vane about using slave labor to rebuild the fort when Vane stood up for Jack against Flint, Jack lays it out for Vane: “you and I had been through enough shit for you to know that I would do the same for you, that I have done the same for you, and would again without hesitation. I made a commitment to you, with you, to restore this place, to make it strong again...Please know that I meant no slight by it. No lack of respect or friendship. It's quite the opposite” (3.01). Vane is certainly right to be angry about enslaving people, but Jack is correct in reminding him that this new effort to free Nassau has as its basis friendship and mutual respect.

At this point, however, Vane does not yet understand what friendship entails. For that, he needs to confront his understanding of friendship, which he does through the return of Edward Teach to Nassau. The conception of friendship Vane learned from Teach is simply to let people live when you could have killed them. Teach did this for Vane when Vane betrayed him for Eleanor, and he did it for Jack after Jack lost the pearls in the ocean, and it was his offer to Eleanor after she betrayed him by freeing Abigail from him. 

When Teach offers to defend Nassau if afterwards Vane sails with him away from Nassau forever, he outlines what their relationship is: “I do not seek your partnership because I am too weak to defend myself. I don't seek it to protect my things or to increase profit...There is an instinct to leave behind something made in one's own image. Nature has denied me the ability, it would seem, but not the need” (3.03). This understanding of their relationship rejects the fundamental Hobbesian basis for such things––it’s not fear of death or desire for acquisition––and instead points toward a desire for a certain kind of immortality. However, this relationship still fundamentally falls within a Hobbesian conception of the family which is artificially constructed in civil society and which requires the children to obey and honor their fathers. Therefore, this, too, is a relationship not based on friendship.

It is Jack’s conversation with Vane before he leaves with Teach that offers Vane a different kind of friendship. Despite Woodes Rogers’ early arrival ruining their plans to defend Nassau and the target placed not only on Vane but on all pirates close to him, Jack refuses to leave with Vane. His refusal is predicated on the fact that he desires freedom: “Teach respects you...but me, I have no interest in living as a target of his….Nor would I be a ward of yours. I've made something for myself here. I'll make it again somehow, but I've come too far to go back” (3.04). Here, Jack presents friendship as a type of equality predicated on freedom. Friendship must be a choice rather than the obligation to repay a debt, and it must result in some type of good for the parties beyond the acquisition of material goods. Jack refuses to go with Vane because his desire to make something of himself is greater than his desire to live a subservient life.

Flint reiterates this notion of freedom to Vane when he comes to ask him to rejoin the effort to free Nassau from England. Vane tells him “my pledge to him began a long time before I ever knew your name. What I owe him…” (3.06). In response, Flint says this project is too important to be clouded by any of that: “Forget me, forget Teach, forget loyalty, compacts, honor, debts, all of it. The only question that matters is this. Who are you?” (3.06). While Hobbes defines liberty in relation to external impediments, both Jack and Flint understand it as something greater than that, something that points inward and moves beyond the desire for safety or the terms of contracts, be they written or otherwise.

After being presented with this understanding a second time, Vane finally accepts it as true. He leaves with Flint to join the revolution. He allows himself to be arrested in order to free Jack. He does all of this on the basis of this new understanding of friendship. When Jack asks why he came back to Nassau, Vane jokingly tells him, “got worried you two'd be lost without me,” but it’s more sincere than joke (3.08). He is committed fully to liberating Nassau not to return it to the days of Teach but to provide it as a counter to the social contract theory of civil society. His final speech before being hanged reveals this shift in his political thought:

These men who brought me here today do not fear me. They brought me here today because they fear you. Because they know that my voice, a voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you. And may yet still. They brought me here today to show you death and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice. But know this. We are many. They are few. To fear death is a choice. And they can't hang us all (3.09). 

He has gone from believing the fear of death to be the greatest fear, the motivator for all human action, to somebody choosing to let civilization kill him. He does this because he now knows there are things worse than death and things greater than physical freedom. He does this because he understands that he owes his fellow pirates the chance to obtain this freedom for themselves. He does this because he has come to recognize that friendship is the act of helping people better themselves.

Conclusion

Vane’s arc therefore acts as a critique of Hobbesian social contract theory. He demonstrates that the sovereign’s power is based on an illegitimate conception of human nature that emphasizes the desire to dominate others. But he also illustrates the fundamental problems with living in a pre-political community attempting to exist outside of the sovereign power. Through his arc, then, we are presented with the fact that a legitimate society based on true friendship in achieving the good of all is not only possible but is worth the sacrifice of one’s life.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

heiress

pairing: bucky barnes x oc!reader 

a/n: this is part one of a four part series based on a song lyrics sent to me by an amazing anon with a reader based on my favourite oc. 

“letters strewn across your bedroom floor. such beautiful words but you can’t remember who they’re for“

Y/N collapsed against the thin black matt again, her head thumping against the worn out floors off the compound and her hair covering the view of the younger recruits dancing in black ballerina costumes to the sound of ominous piano. She pushed her hands against the black mattress to look at her professor who was staring her down, yet he always did. He was taller than her, taller than any recruit around so if the metal arm wasn’t intimidating enough, his looking down into those storm filled eyes did the trick.

    - That was a cheap shot. 

    - There are no cheap shots in the battlefield. - he extended his hand to her but she denied him, instead using her hands against the matt to pull herself up. - You cannot expect ...

    - Fairness in battle. - she completed his sentence, arranging her ponytail while pulling the strap of her black top up. - I know, you’ve told me many times.

   - Then you should already know it. You keep this up and you’ll return to ballet.

   - You’re just a terrible professor. - she smirked, taking a few steps away to consider her next move. - You can’t expect me to expect someone to hit me in the chest.

    - I expect to see you in the Red Room. - he said, shrugging it out but she knew exactly what that entailed. The red room, the other black widows, she wanted none of that, none of that lifestyle. - You’re a good marksman. Just need hand to hand combat.

   - Best out of five?

   - We are not gonna stop until you bring me down.

   - Will you tell me your name if I bring you down?

   - You know my name. - he spoke like an authoritarian professor, perfect posture and senses as if he expected an attack from every corner. Maybe he was right in fearing an attack yet his position was almost frozen, tense even ... as if someone held strings over him and controlled him like a puppet. - C’mon, Daisy. You can graduate and become as good as any girl here.

  - I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours.

  - I know your name. 

  - I meant my real name, not my code name.

  - Stop joking around and bring me down. 

Y/N pushed her jacket up as she stepped in the middle of the street with Monica and Wanda by her side. It had only been 2 months out of Westview, 2 short months compiled of hiding from whatever was left of SHIELD, SWORD and from the identity who had created Wanda’s fake haven. The plan was simple, elemental even, yet it proved much harder to gather evidence on SHIELD and SWORD’s plan when both she, Monica, Wanda, Jimmy and Darcy had both been considered highly dangerous fugitives so whatever they did had to be undercover. The walls have ears and eyes so all care was necessary, which meant no display of supernatural abilities or anything that could connect them to themselves. HYDRA had gone underground and still seemed to be pulling at the strings of SHIELD and SWORD, as Ross was working on a new generation of super soldiers with the excuse the world needed security after the Avengers dissolved and Captain America, Steve Rogers, dropped his shield. She should’ve known, after SWORD and SHIELD started experimenting with Vision’s body. She should’ve known but with the threat of Westview, they kept both her and Monica in the dark, instead redirecting their attentions to framing Wanda as a fugitive.

     - If that SHIELD hideaway is still around, it won’t be short of traps. - Monica commented, eyes surrounding the sea of people around. - What’s the plan?

    - Yelena and Jimmy are going around and Vision and Darcy are in the helicopter surrounding the top. 

     - You do know Vision can fly, right? - Wanda smirked, yet the unbelievable thing was she had not referred to him as her husband despite the wedding band around her finger.

     - Regular people can’t fly. - Monica said, rather amused at the thought of Vision trying to go by undercover in the sky.

     - We found it. - Yelena’s voice came through the intercom on her ear. - There better be some fighting for it to be worth while.

     - Wait up, we’ll let you know when we enter. No fighting.

     - You’re no fun.

They did not know exactly what they were looking for, they were just looking for evidence. her father was always keen on scattering things around. If there was something her father was right about was not keeping everything in one place, people would find it easily. She was sure, she was sure she would find something in that place which was connected to HYDRA, even if it was a map of other locations. If she were ever to clean their names, she needed evidence and then she needed to stop them. Super soldiers should have stayed in the past yet despite HYDRAs and her father’s mistakes the very organisations who swore to protect Earth, were making the same mistakes. 

The mundane looking home appeared in the horizon. It looked less scary now, less official than when her father dropped her there to be collected by Madam B. Even now, so many years past it she could fell the snow falling on her arms as the stern woman dragged her away from everything she knew. It haunted her, it still did and flashbacks went through her mind as she yelled for her father not to let that woman take her. She begged and sobbed but he turned his back on her as if her discomfort did not matter. Almost as cold as the snow that fell from the ground.

    - Hey ... - Monica put her hand on her shoulder, soft, reassuring smile. - He’s locked up. Can’t send you away anymore.

    - Even if he tried ... - Wanda’s eyes glowed red. - He wouldn’t win.

    - Let’s get this over and done with. - Y/N sighed, looking at the door as if it was a bitter lover. - Yelena, we’re coming in.

    - Copy.

Wanda rose her hand, twisting as the intricate set of locks and codes was over ridden by the red glow of her powers. Yes, it was no ordinary way of opening a door but it was the best shoot. The once scary room was dark, filled with dust and reminders of a great time for SHIELD. Walking in, she could smell the rotting wood, gun powder, and mold. It was funny how the house which still haunted her dreams was collapsing onto itself, a simple symbol of times which were coming to an end. Yet, like her trauma, it still remained tall, in the heart of Washington. They walked in slowly, nothing but the sound of their breathing until a floor board creaked. Immediately Monica pulled out her gun while Wanda’s eyes lit red and Y/N grabbed the gun tucked in her trousers. She moved her hand slowly, the old candles in the tables lightening up. As the light engulfed the room, she found the intruders had also guns pointed at them.

   - Drop your weapons. - she knew them. Sharon Carter, Sam Wilson, and ... Bucky Barnes. Shit.

   - I’m afraid not. - Monica replied, never wavering stance which could make even the strongest of man cower. - State your business.

   - I thought you said no fight. - Yelena came up from behind with Jimmy, both holding their guns up. 

   - You’re surrounded. Drop. Your. Weapons. - Monica repeated.

   - Wait, I know him. - Yelena pointed her gun at Bucky. - You were in the Red Room.

   - Maybe you should drop your weapons. You’re the one with a terrorist who harboured a whole town of innocents.

   - Sharon, I didn’t peg you for a gullible one. - Y/N’s eyes shone dim white, before she dropped her weapon. - We’re not your enemy and we are not looking for a fight.

   - I am. - Yelena rolled her eyes.

   - Lieutenant Ross wants to build a super soldier army and he’s looking for whatever information there is on the Winter Soldier program and Captain America. They were experimenting on Vision before Wanda broke him out and then both were held hostage in a simulation. We are not criminals.

   - You’re your father’s daughter why should I believe in you?

   - Because if not it’s 3 against 7 and it’s not a very fair fight. - Wanda snarked back before moving her hand, making the three point at each other. - Or you can shoot each other. 

   - That’s just mean, Wanda. Don’t you have a little pity for your friend? - Sam looked her way. - Look, we’re on the run. We’re not looking to turn you in.

   - Then drop it. - Monica shrugged. - You’re not gonna win.

   - I only count 5, I like my odds. 

   - Vision and Darcy are outside. 

   - I thought Vision was super dead. - Sam whispered over to Bucky who shrugged at his words, them registering void as his mind rushed over the strings of his memory to try and find why the woman who had just lowered her weapon was so familiar yet his memory seemed surrounded by red tint, nothing coming. - Wanda, you know me. We’re not here with malice, there’s no need for a fight.

   - This is waste of time. - Yelena rolled her eyes, lowering her own weapon. - Can’t you make magical handcuffs, Wanda?

  - That’s a gross understatement of what I can do ... - her eyes glowed red as they usually did whenever she used her powers to a particular extreme. 

  - We’re not starting a fight. - Wanda looked Y/N’s way as those particular words left her mouth. She could feel her energy trying to slip into her mind and successfully do so. Whatever made her mind safe from her tended to waver in delicate situations and Wanda loved whenever she got to peak inside her mind. This time she merely gave her a teasing look, eyes returning to their natural light green hue. Her eyes did not lie and she guessed neither did whatever piece of her mind Wanda got hold of. - We’re under Nick Fury. The last thing we are is your foe. 

   - Hey... is this what we looking for? - Jimmy held up a file with LE-0623. The number itself made her sick to her stomach. Every memory she had somehow had that number from the black shirt he wore to train to the files on her father’s desk. There was no question they had the right file, or at least one of the files on the Winter Soldier. She remembered laughing to herself at how long it had taken for someone to find one of the soldier’s red notebooks. To her knowledge there were at least five: one with HYDRA, one at the Red Room, one with a holder and the other two at different safe houses. She remembered Madam B. telling her the soldier was more machine than man and as such, like every machine, required an instruction book. It was sick, she thought the analogy was sick and now looking at him, years after she had known him, it felt sicker. There had always been a human inside the soldier but HYDRA was not interested in humanity unless it was submissive to them.

   - You can come. - Monica suggested. - You’re not exactly America’s sweethearts at the moment.

   - Why should we trust you? - Sharon cocked her head to the side. Why should she trust a team with the daughter of a man who had taken down her aunt’s life project? Y/N wouldn’t have trust her if she were in her place. - Or is that a kinder way of saying we’re captive?

 - You really think we’d need a kind way to hold you captive? - Wanda turned around, exiting the building. She probably knew the outcome of their decision before they told anyone. 

The two man shared a knowing look between them, following Wanda out with Yelena fast on their step but Y/N stood behind. The whole room looked so much smaller yet it vibrated with memories she had buried deep into her subconsciousness. It was still there, everything as it was growing old with dust just like her childhood.  It was lost. Monica looked at her with kind eyes, drapping her arm over her shoulder like she did whenever they were both recruits at SWORD. Everything seemed so far away now, even Westview seemed far. Time seemed to pass by the two like an enemy yet it lingered in the memories which haunted at night.

   - You three should go with Yelena. - Monica suggested. - You can come with us, Jimmy.

  - I’ll go with Yelena. - Wanda walked over to the former Red Room graduate, eyes still gazing over Y/N, looking for any gaps in her mind shield which was slowly crumbling the more she looked at him. - See you at the base.

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a second to look at him. He looked different, at least as different as one who does not age can look, short hair, relaxed posture sometimes even. Her eyes met up with his, familiar looks which lingered like a long kiss, yet she couldn’t bare look him in the eye and instead entered Monica’s old jeep. Monica took the driver’s seat while she took shotgun and Jimmy sat on the back, reporting what had happened through him com to a very curious Darcy who was probably bored off her mind being stuck in an helicopter with Vision.

   - Jim, can I see that? - Y/N turned around in her seat to look at the FBI agent who shrugged and handed her the file. She let it fall on her lap, fingers tracing the name she wanted to know so much when her whole world were the walls of the Red Room. She would’ve never guessed his name, even if she tried. 

Her hands traced the edges of the file, almost afraid to find out what was inside; yet when she opened them, a few letters slide out. Daisy. She recognised the fast written name on top in messy black runny ink. 

  - Anything interesting? 

  - No. - she blinked, closing the file. - Uhm ... not that I know. Maybe Alexei might know, he was a guardian when Sergeant Barnes was a fight intructor there.

  - Think the twins will freak out when they see Sam Wilson? - Monica smiled. The twins had a huge fascination with the Avengers despite both their parents being part off the initial team. Nevertheless, Billy and Tommy did not really care and instead got wide eyed watching old footage of the Avengers. - Last time they saw Hawkeye they were hyper for a month. 

  - Not sure Fury’s gonna be happy about having three new people in.

  - The more, the merrier. 

The ride to the base was excruciating as she replayed the scene in her head although there was really nothing to replay. She knew someday at some point she would see him, she just never expected it to be that soon. The last time she had seen him was the mirage of him in Westview, one of Agnes failed tricks, and even then she got tongue tied. Seeing him now even felt more unrealistic, he felt like such a figure of her past, like an unresolved badly healed wound. She really thought that by now she would be better at controlling it, you’d think 6 years would’ve taught her best how to deal with him even after all the past events where his face was plastered all over the television. Nevertheless, despite how slow time ran for her, they reached the small seemingly deserted area which started to glow red as Wanda broke through the hex she had created to protect their designated base. It was nothing special, Wanda had told her when she brought the team to see what she had been working on. Yet, it was something special and over time their team grew to give harbour anyone who looked for shelter from SWORD, SHIELD, or HYDRA and the initial team could not be any prouder of it.

The two jeeps parked in front of the entrance and immediately Y/N spotted Tommy rush outside, holding his twin by the arm. Both clearly already knowing they had visitors, Avengers visitors. 

    - Jeez Louise, you two. What did I say about using your powers? - Wanda stepped out of the jeep, hands on her waist. 

    - Not unless it’s necessary or under supervision. - Tommy shrugged as Alexei came running behind them. - Alexei supervised us, mum.

    - Just wait ‘til your father hears about this.

    - You got kids? - Sam asked, visibly worried at the fact his old friend seemed to have two ten year olds.

    - Long story. - Monica added. - You two inside. No place for you here today.

    - But you said we could meet the Avengers, mum. - Billy complained to Wanda.

     - You can always meet me, kids. - Vision joked making Darcy roll her eyes. Poor Darcy, she was probably already done with dad jokes. 

The briefing was long and drawn up with Fury mostly filling Sharon, Bucky and Sam into what they did and listening to Jimmy about the contents of the file. There was never too much in those files and it was mostly about ensuring they had all the files so Lieutenant Ross wouldn’t get his hands on them. Besides, it was up to Sharon, Bucky and Sam’s interest to join him as soon enough Zemo would be contacted by Lieutenant Ross and until he had one of the Winter Soldier files in his possession, Zemo was also one of their enemies. She tried looking at him a few times, memories of the time they had spent together clouding her mind and better judgement yet she couldn’t forget how Bucky had pushed Sharon behind him the moment Monica and her had pointed guns at them, protecting her the same way he used to protect her. Yet, she had no business thinking about him, not after what she had done, not after she became the sole reason why he ...

    - Y/N. - Fury’s voice took her from her own mind. Looking around, the room was vacant except for her, Fury, Wanda and Monica. She was so focused on her memories, she hadn’t even noticed the remains of them leave the room. - I told you not to go on that mission.

    - I don’t work for you, Fury. Besides, I’ve been there before, I was an asset to the meeting. 

    - You’re the sole benefactor of whatever powers your father had at SHIELD, if you die then Ross inherits it. If you ever disobey direct orders, I’ll ...

    - You’ll what? - Y/N interrupted him. - Tell my father?

    - You might not want to accept he’s your father, but he is and you have to deal with the responsibilities that come with being his daughter. 

    - Fine. -  Y/N stretched a fake smile on her face as Fury left her, Wanda and Monica alone in the briefing room. 

    - Alright  ... give them to me. - Monica extended her hands towards Y/N. - The letters that were in the file and you clearly took.

    - It’s his letters. I don’t think anyone has any business reading them. 

    - I’ll give them to him then. Hand them over, Y/N. - Y/N begrudgingly handed the letters over to Monica who got up. - You let yourself be easily haunted by the past. If I let you keep these, you will never give them to him. You can’t even look at him.

    - Yes, I can. 

    - Oh really? - Monica crossed her arms. - Then come with me and hand them to him. 

    - That’s just mean, Monica.

    - We’ll talk about this later, Y/N. - she pointed at him before exiting the room. Y/N slouched against her chair, looking at the ceiling above her. 

    -  Don’t worry. - Wanda reassured, hand on her shoulder. - I did what you made me promise I’d do back in Westview.

    - Thanks, Wan. 

    - You’ll be fine ... We always have to be fine isn’t it? - she looked straight ahead with a sadness which showed all she herself had lost despite having recovered the twins and Vision. So much for a nice suburban life.

    - So ... he won’t remember?

    - He won’t remember a thing.

[after-avenging-hours]

Out of Time [1]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist

Summary:  After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 5565

Warnings: Canon typical violence, time travel, injury of major characters

You don’t know how it went so wrong. You’d been on a mission with the team. A few former SHIELD scientists that were suspected to have been working under the influence of Hydra had been spotted in the same vicinity, raising several red flags. After a few days of recon, you’d managed to track down the location of their lab. When the team had busted the door in, ready to take them down, they’d already been expecting you.

The place was full of hired mercenaries and ex-members of the SHIELD Strike team. They’d put up quite a fight. Sam, Clint, and Wanda held down the ground floor while you and Steve had made your way to the upper level. Two agents held you off in close combat while six others took on Steve at the same time. Even six to one, they were having a hard time restraining the Super Soldier, but they managed to keep him pinned just long enough to allow one of the scientists to inject him in the neck with some type of black substance.

“No!” you scream, turning absolutely feral. Throwing caution to the wind, you mercilessly take on the two agents fighting you and they soon end up on the floor.

As Steve falls to his knees, the six other agents grab the scientists and leave out the back door. You rush forward and drop down, skidding across the floor to catch Steve by the shoulders before he can faceplant into the floor.

“Steve!” you call desperately. “Steve, look at me!” Your hands grip his face, trying to guide his eyes to yours, but they’ve turned hazy and unfocused. Perspiration has begun to collect on his brow and the veins at the injection site on his neck have started to turn black.

You lift a hand to activate the commlink in your ear. “Requesting immediate evac. The Captain is down. I repeat, Captain America is down.”

The rest of the team rendezvous to your location and it takes all of you to get Steve out of there and onto the Quinjet. You grab a tablet and bring up the life sign readings programmed into his suit. You watch with dread as his heartbeat wildly fluctuates between too high and too low, while his body temperature continually climbs.

As soon as the jet has landed back at the Avengers base, he’s carted off to the infirmary, where Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho are already waiting for him. You pace up and down the hallway, unable to rest or step away for even a moment to change out of your uniform. Your stomach is tied up in knots and you can’t get the image out of your head on how his face just went completely blank as soon as they had injected him.

You halt your movements and look up when the door opens and Bruce steps out. Seeing Bruce’s face on the Hulk’s massive body was still a little unsettling, but you have started to grow used to it.

“How is he? Is he okay?” you rush out.

Bruce’s poker face is terrible as he pulls off his glasses and fails to meet your gaze. “He’s stable for now… but no, he’s not okay.”

You cup a hand to your mouth and release a pained whimper. “What-” your voice breaks and you have to clear your throat before you can try again. “Do you know what they injected him with?”

“From what we can tell, it seems to be some sort of anti-serum venom. It was made to specifically target the Super Soldier serum enhancement in Steve’s cells.”

You feel the dread sink like a weight in your stomach. “What can we do to stop it?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Wanda grabbed the syringe from the Hydra lab, so we have a small sample of the anti-serum for analysis. But without a pure sample of Steve’s Super Soldier serum, it could take months to synthesize a cure. And he doesn’t have that long.”

The lump in your throat grows and it becomes difficult to swallow. “How long does he have?” you almost don’t want to ask.

You see the answer in his eyes. “This anti-serum… it’s aggressive-”

“Bruce,” you cut him off, urgency in your gaze. “How long?”

“A few days… maybe a week.”

Your whole body blanches and you stumble a few steps until your back hits the wall. The thought alone was inconceivable. Steve… Your Steve… Gone in less than a week? Haven’t you both been through enough? You shake your head fervently, straightening your spine and pushing off the wall. “No,” you deny, allowing your anger and frustration to bolster your strength.

���Hey…” Bruce attempts to reach out to you.

“No!” you coil back. “No, I won’t let that happen.”

“We will do everything we can, but without the original serum-”

“Then I’ll get it for you,” you state with finality to your tone, a plan already forming in your mind.

Bruce looks at you, perplexed. “How?”

Instead of responding, you turn on your heel and march down the hallway. Pulling out your phone, you bring up your contacts and dial the number you need. You’re talking as soon as the line picks up. “Hey Scott, remember that favor you owe me?”

--

It takes a full day of preparation before things are ready. You grow even more anxious with every minute that passes. Every single tick of the clock is one less second Steve has to live.

Seeing him in the infirmary had nearly broken you. Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho were keeping him sedated to help slow the spread of the anti-serum, but the damage was already beginning to take its toll. It was working its way through his body like a poison, starting in the bloodstream, but if left untreated, his organs would begin to fail systematically. Normally, Steve’s Super Soldier serum would help defend his body from something like this, allowing him to metabolize it out before it could do any harm. But, somehow those Hydra scientists found a way to target the original serum first, to weaken his body’s defenses and let the venom take over. It must have taken them years of research to develop something like this and you only had days to reverse it.

You had never seen the Super Soldier look so weak and sickly. He had lost all color, his skin pale and beginning to verge into an ashen grey. He looked thinner like he had been bedridden for weeks, not just a day. His cheeks were gaunt and dark bags had appeared beneath his eyes. When you reached out to touch his hand, it was deathly cold and your heart had skipped a beat. You didn’t understand how this could be happening so fast to the strongest man you had ever known.

You’d pushed the hair off his forehead; no longer a shiny blonde, but more of a dull straw color; and pressed your lips to his skin. “You’ve come to my rescue so many times, Steve. It’s time for me to return the favor. Please, hold on, just a little longer, until I get back.” You then place a gentle kiss to his lips, a single tear dropping from your eye and landing on his cheek. You wipe at the wet trail with your thumb before you step back and release a shaking breath. “I will make it back,” you promise both to him and to yourself.

--

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Bucky asks, helping you in to your quantum suit.

It’s good that most of his memories were back. He was your best source of information for getting the correct dates, times, and places so you could successfully accomplish your task. Not only that, but you had needed a quick and dirty rundown on etiquette, behavior, and style for the time period. It felt like you had enough bobby pins and hair spray to keep your hair as still as a plastic doll. Not to mention the signature red painting your lips.

“You can’t,” Bruce speaks up from where he stands behind the console for the platform. “The infinity stones were the only thing holding our reality together when we time traveled the last time. Those stones no longer exist in this reality. Since she isn’t coming back with them either, there may be repercussions from this. She should go alone because she doesn’t already exist in that timeline.”

“I’ll be okay, Bucky,” you give him a tentative smile, unsure if you’re telling the truth.

Based on the look in his eyes, you know he’s reading you easily. He gives your arm a squeeze in reassurance. “Stay out of trouble. The punk will kill me if anything happens to you.”

You nod and begin to step away, heading for the platform. You shift on your feet, mentally psyching yourself up for the journey. You release a long breath before signaling to Bruce that you’re ready. You meet Bucky’s gaze one last time. “Be right back,” you tell him before your helmet pops into place and you’re flying through the quantum realm.

--

You land in 1943 without much fuss, quickly dissolving out of your quantum suit before anyone catches you in the empty alleyway. You fix any flyaway hairs and straighten your outfit and then walk out onto the main street. It’s a bit of a trip, seeing all the old-fashioned cars driving past and the dated outfits and hairstyles that everyone wears. The movies and pictures that you’ve grown up seeing don’t quite do it justice. However, it does remind you of the sketches Steve sometimes shared with you whenever he was feeling nostalgic.

You give yourself a second to marvel at everything, but the thought of Steve helps to sharpen your focus and bring yourself back on track. You step onto the sidewalk, behind a group of young school children with their mothers in tow. Walking passed a newspaper stand; you take a quick glance at the paper to make sure you’ve landed at the correct time. Monday, June 7th, 1943.

Breathing a breath of relief, you move to the edge of the sidewalk and hail a taxi. Soft, jazzy notes fill the air of the car from the radio, helping to ease the tension in your shoulders. The song is also familiar to you, because of Steve. You give the driver the address to your destination and soon find yourself pulling up in front of Brooklyn Antiques. You pay for the taxi with a set of vintage coins you’d been able to acquire before leaving your time. You shuffle out of the taxi and head into the shop.

The bell above the door dings and you enter the space. An older woman in a soft pink sweater steps out from the backroom to greet you. “Did you hear the ball game last night?”

Your mind races as you try to recall the answer to the code that Bucky had told you about. They would change them daily and randomly rotate through a long list of them. “Yes, but I only wish I had some Cracker Jacks,” you respond.

She nods once before moving behind the cashier desk and presses the secret button beneath. You try to steady your pounding heart as you walk to the back room and stand in front of the bookshelves. After a moment, the shelves begin to move to reveal a set of hidden doors. You roll your shoulders back and walk with confidence into the hidden laboratory.

The energy in this place buzzes like a beehive. The tan military uniform you wear allows you to blend with everyone else. People give you a casual side glance before turning back to what they had previously been doing. As you walk down the hallway toward the main room, the sound of raised voices grabs your attention.

“You’ve had more than enough test runs! Stark’s machine works. Your formula is ready for development. All that’s left is the man.”

Looking to your left, you see that it’s Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine that are arguing inside the observation room. Dr. Erskine shakes his head, with an exasperated look on his face. “But it can’t be just any man, it has to be the right man!”

“We’ve been at this for months! Week after week, we run training exercises on a new group at Camp Lehigh, and you’ve denied every single one! Do you realize how much money this has cost us? We have to pay the scouts that send men our way. Gotta pay the buses that bring ‘em to the camp. Lodging, food, uniforms, supplies. Enough is enough. You have one week to find your man for the next round of recruitments. If you can’t find him. Then you’ll have to pick from the rest of the selection. We cannot afford to wait any longer.”

With the final word, Colonel Phillips turns and walks out of the observation room. You make sure to step back and out of his way, ducking your head slightly, so as not to draw attention to yourself. You look back up when you hear Dr. Erskine give a long drawn out sigh. He has removed his glasses and rubs at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

You find yourself moving forward and into the room. “Is everything all right, Doctor?” you question with a gentle voice.

He moves his glasses back into place and meets your gaze. “Not quite.” He admits, his accent a little thicker with stress in his voice. “Unless you have an idea on where we might be able to find someone actually worthy of this project.”

Your lips part as you try to come up with a response to that. “Well… Um. I’m sure the World Expo will bring all sorts of new faces in.” You cringe inwardly a little, thinking that may have been too obvious. Bruce’s words of warning echo in your ears. Get in, get out, don’t change the timeline.

Erskine’s eyes light up at that prospect. “The World Exposition? Of course. That is a wonderful idea. Stark mentioned that there was a recruitment center there. Come, let’s go take a look.”

He begins to head for the doorway and gestures for you to step through first. You hesitate. “You want me to come with you?”

He smiles kindly. “Well, it was your idea, was it not?”

So much for 'get in and get out'. Although, this could be a good thing. After all, Erskine was your ticket to the serum. Another second passes, and then you begin to move out of the observation room. You look down at the machine in the main room, knowing that one day soon, it will be used to create a Super Soldier. Erskine follows you out before taking the lead and moving toward the exit. He pulls off his lab coat and stops at a coat rack off to the side. He swaps the lab coat for a beige trench coat and his fedora.

The MP sitting at the desk right next to the secret entrance hits the button to allow you both to exit. Erskine leads you out of the antique shop and over to one of the vehicles parked nearby. The driver is already sitting in the front seat. Erskine opens the back door and gestures once more for you to enter first. You give him your thanks as you sink into the leather seat, then push over to the other side to make room for him to follow you.

Dr. Erskine gives his instructions to the driver to take you to the Expo.

You relax your posture into the cushioned seat and watch 1943 New York pass by the window.

“So, you are new,” Dr. Erskine states casually, also looking out through the window on his side of the car.

Your shoulders stiffen and your heart stops. “I…” you begin to protest before changing tactics. You laugh nervously and glance over at him. “Is it that obvious?”

He continues to look out his window as he responds. “In all the months we have been working on this project, no one has ever asked me how I am doing.” He turns away from the window then and meets your gaze.

Your own gaze softens with sincerity. “That sounds lonely.”

He tilts his head and lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. “This is the bed that I have made. Great things can happen if my serum is used properly, but many terrible things have already come to pass.”

You know that he is talking about Red Skull. “We will find the man you need, Doctor,” you assure him.

He looks at you curiously. “How is it you sound so sure of that?”

You swallow and try not to look like a deer caught in a headlight. “I have faith,” you manage to get out.

He cracks a small smile. “Faith,” he repeats, before he releases a low chuckle. “I’m afraid as a scientist, I may need a little more than that.”

You find yourself smiling back. “Then perhaps I can try to muster enough faith for the both of us.”

“That would be appreciated,” he responds right as the car pulls to a stop. He steps out of the vehicle first before turning and reaching to take your hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh wow…” you marvel as you take in the sights of the Expo before you.

The giant metal sculpture of the globe looms over everything, casting its shadow over the crowds as people hurry passed in excited groups, eager to see the exhibits. A monorail train curls around the globe and zooms past in a rush of metallic sound.

“You have not yet seen the Exposition?” Dr. Erskine asks curiously.

You find it difficult to pull your eyes away from the sights. “I haven’t had the time,” you speak honestly.

“I heard that several of the soldiers were planning to take the other women to Stark’s show this weekend. I’m sure you could join them.” He speaks casually as he begins to head for the recruitment station.

“Those men don’t interest me.” You follow behind, looking around as you do.

Dr. Erskine grins to himself. “Fair enough.”

The two of you continue on your way. Before you can make it inside the building, though, a voice calls out “Dr. Erskine!”

A man in an expensive-looking suit walks up to you both. He has dark hair, a thin mustache, and a dashing smile. A smile with confidence that you recognize.

“Mr. Stark,” the Doctor greets, shaking his hand.

“What brings you all the way out here? I thought you never left your lab, save for heading out to Camp Lehigh. And who is this?” Howard’s eyes trace down the length of your body, an appreciation settling into his features.

You raise a brow, barely able to contain your amusement between this Stark and the one you’ve known. “She’s not interested,” you reply bluntly.

Erskine laughs while Stark’s lips part in momentary shock. With a shake of his head, he shrugs off the rejection and his lips return to a charming grin. “Where are you and Phillips finding these girls? First Agent Carter, now this one?”

“You were commissioned for the head on your shoulders, Mr. Stark. The females working on this project should be of no concern to you.” The somewhat harsh blow of Erskine’s words is softened by the smile of amusement on his face.

Howard doesn’t take it to heart, laughing as well. “I understand. Well, can I at least show you both around?”

“We are actually here to observe the recruitment station. The Colonel has given us a week to find our man. We were hoping the selection here might provide something new.”

“Ah,” Howard remarks. “Well then, I won’t keep you. Feel free to stop by the Modern Marvel’s Pavilion. Perhaps we can all grab lunch.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” Erskine neither confirms nor denies the invitation and ushers you into the recruitment center.

“He’s certainly a handful,” you comment, no longer able to hold your amusement.

Erskine releases a long sigh. “Sometimes it is a wonder that he can get anything accomplished. His mind is brilliant, but he can be easily distracted. Though, I am starting to wonder… if not even the great Howard Stark can hold your interest, I am fascinated to find out the man that will.”

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe you will meet him one day.”

Dr. Erskine speaks with the head physician of the recruitment office, establishing a protocol for directing prospective enlisters his way for additional questioning. He then gives you instructions on the qualities he is looking for, so you can also help to keep an eye out with him.

You spend the day interviewing enlisters. You pretend to be invested, but know that none of them are going to be the correct one. Steve isn’t supposed to show up to this recruitment center until this weekend after Stark’s big show. You had planned to drop into the timeline several days before his recruitment, in case you needed the extra time to get your hands on a sample of serum. Your first day wasn’t quite going as expected, but it could be worse.

Erskine comes to collect you at the end of the day to see how your interviews have been going. When he offers for you to join him for dinner, you readily agree, only then realizing how hungry you are. The two of you walk away from the crowds of the Expo and back into the city.

You find a small family-owned diner to grab a quick bite to eat. Getting seated at a booth near the windows, you watch the people pass by while you wait for your food to come.

“My apologies for taking so long to ask, but I have come to realize that I do not know your name,” Dr. Erskine pulls your attention back to him.

“Oh,” you start. Realizing that you also had never introduced yourself. “Well, my friends call me Vic.”

“Friends?” he repeats with a raised brow.

You realize your mistake a little too late. As the head scientist of the SSR, he was technically considered your superior. It’s been so long since you’ve worked with a superior that wasn’t your friend. Also, with one that you weren’t sleeping with…

You clear your throat and try again. “What I mean is that I haven’t really gone by my given name in a long time. It almost feels foreign whenever I do hear it.”

Erskine looks at you curiously. “And this Vic name was given to you by your friends?”

“Yes,” you confirm, before growing a little shy. “It’s actually short for Lady Victory,” you explain, your face heating in embarrassment. You’ve never actually had to be the one explaining it to anyone.

“Lady Victory?” he repeats, both brows now raised in intrigue. “And how did you manage to earn that name?”

“Well,” you laugh lightly. “It started after a few successful rounds of poker.” That makes Erskine laugh as well. “But, once I started working in the field, the name stuck. I became a lucky charm of sorts. Everyone would say that there was no way we could fail as long as Lady Victory was on our side. And that held true, at least until…” Your voice falls away and your eyes grow hollow. At least until the last mission.

“You have been to the war front?”

You pull yourself out of your dark thoughts and focus back on the doctor. “No. Not this war, at least. But I have seen war. Up close. It’s never easy.”

Erskine nods in agreement. He sits quietly for a moment, considering your words. “Have you considered submitting yourself as a candidate for Project Rebirth?”

You had reached for your glass of water and taken a sip when he asked his question. You choke upon swallowing the drink. So much for not screwing up the timeline. You’re pretty sure this conversation was never supposed to happen. You set your glass back down and attempt to cough the water out from where it’s trying to reach your lungs.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you. But I must admit, you do have several of the qualities I am looking for in a candidate.”

After you’ve managed to catch your breath, you try to figure out the best way out of this. “The offer is generous, but that’s not my destiny.”

“What happened to faith?” Dr. Erskine smiles cryptically.

“I have faith that we will find the right person. But I know that isn’t me.” You release a breath of relief when the waitress arrives with the food. “Besides, can you imagine the Colonel’s reaction if you were to tell him you had picked a woman for the project?”

Erskine shrugs his shoulder. “He has been making his threats for months, but he knows that I will not make the serum until we have a candidate that I approve of.”

You can actually hear the record scratch sound effect going off in your mind. “Wait, I thought the Colonel said your formula was ready.”

“The formula, yes. I have all the ingredients ready. But the serum itself must be used within hours of preparation or the components will begin to degrade. It is a side effect from some of the ingredients used, but also works as a failsafe, should anyone think that they could steal it.”

You try to keep your face neutral, but internally your heart is sinking. This means that you coming early was a wasted effort and your only shot at getting a sample of the serum would be the day they turn Steve into a Super Soldier. And not only that but if you did manage to get your hands on a sample, it could degrade before being of any use to Dr. Banner.

In an effort to keep the despair off your face, you steer the conversation away and start to dig into the food that you no longer feel hungry for. Dr. Erskine turns out to be fairly good company and enjoys regaling you with tales of his home in Germany. It helps to keep him talking, so you can mentally plan just how you’re going to make it through these next few weeks, stuck in 1943.

Erskine offers to cover the cost of dinner, which you agree to, but only if he will let you pay for the next meal. He seems caught off guard by your proposal but then agrees with a quiet chuckle. As you prepare to leave, he places his fedora back onto his head and folds his coat over his arm. He then holds the door open as you exit the diner.

You both walk down the sidewalk in the direction toward the expo, occasionally needing to move behind one another to make room for people heading in the other direction. A flash of movement catches your attention from across the street. You narrow your gaze at the two men walking in the same direction as you and Erskine. They are both wearing fairly nondescript outfits in dark, neutral tones. Also wearing fedoras that they use to shadow their eyes. You notice one has a camera in his hands.

You quicken your steps to match up with the doctor, then wrap your arm through his. He looks down at you slightly startled, but you don’t pay him any mind. “Darling, that dress is lovely. Why don’t we take a look inside?” You point toward the display of a boutique and quickly usher him into the shop.

“Miss Vic, we really should be heading back to the recruitment center,” Dr. Erskine begins to protest.

You hush him and pull him deeper into the shop. “We were being followed. I noticed those two men loitering outside the bar across the street when we were at the diner. They stayed the whole time and didn’t begin to move until we did.”

“Are you certain?” he questions, looking back, but you’ve already pulled him too far into the shop.

“I am. One of them pulled out a camera and was trying to take pictures of you.”

“Hello, how can I help you?” the shop attendant takes that moment to make herself known.

You put a sweet smile into your face. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you have a back door? It seems we’ve gotten a little turned around and we’re actually supposed to be on the next street over.”

The woman looks at you curiously, “Oh, we do, but it leads to a back alley, not the main street.”

“That’s all right. I’m sure we’ll find our way. Thank you!” Before she can come up with a response, you’re pulling Erskine after you and out the back. You check to make sure the coast is clear, before dragging him out. You run as fast as you can in your heels down the back alley toward the next street. You stop just short of the alley opening and press your back into the brick wall. Peaking around the corner, you find that the men aren’t anywhere to be seen.

You step out with Erskine and quickly hail a taxi. Not conforming to societal rules, you yank open the back door and shove him into the seat. “Don’t head directly for the expo. Drive aimlessly first, check for any tails. If you don’t see any, stop and switch to a new taxi before heading back.”

“What are you going to do?” he questions, still thrown off by what’s happening.

“I’m going to make sure they won’t follow you.”

You quickly shut the door to the cab and bang on the top to send it off. You then duck back into the alley. You’re almost to the back entrance of the boutique when the two men come stumbling out.

“You boys lost?” you question with an innocent tone to your voice. The two take one look at you before looking around for your charge. “I’m afraid it’s just the three of us.”

“We ain’t got no beef with you, Toots,” one of the men states in a heavy Brooklyn accent.

Your innocent façade drops instantly. Darting forward, you grab the man by the lapel of his coat. You use his surprise against him to swing his whole body around and slam his back into the brick wall. Your movement knocks the wind out of him and you quickly pin your forearm to the base of his neck to keep him from being able to regain his breath. “Who you callin’ Toots?” you question with a deadly tone in your voice.

“Geez, lady!” The man chokes out, raising his hands in surrender.

“Back up, if you don’t want to get hurt!”

You look over your shoulder to find the other one has a pistol aimed at you. Rolling your eyes, you release the first one and step back, your own hands now up in surrender. In a flash, you whip your arm out, grasping the gun and kick your foot out, straight into his knee. His leg buckles from beneath him and he loosens his hold on the gun as he falls.

You take the weapon into your own hands, holding it over him, while he kneels at your feet. “I think you’ll find that it’s actually you who should be worried about getting hurt, Toots,” you tell him, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

You catch the movement of the man’s eyes and turn back toward his partner, just a moment too late. The sound of a gun firing echoes down the alley moments before pain explodes in your side.

You cry out, barely managing to keep your grip on your own gun as you stumble into the brick wall.

“You shot her?!” the one kneeling bellows.

“She had a gun to your head!” The other argues.

“Red Skull’s gonna kill us if he finds out we were caught!”

“Not if we finish her off,” the one that shot you once begins to turn.

Your hand shakes as you try to raise your gun back up to defend yourself.

“Hey! Get away from her!” A new voice enters the fray.

The two men look to see someone else running into the alley. They are coming from your back and you fear if you attempt to look at who it is, you might pass out from the pain.

“Let’s get out of here,” the one that shot you tucks his gun away and helps pull the other to their feet. They take off before the newcomer can reach them.

“Miss, are you alright?”

This gunshot wound must be affecting you more than you thought because you could swear their voice sounds like-

Gentle hands grasp your shoulders as you stumble. You lift your head to meet a worried gaze. Soft blue eyes, framed by thick lashes, and two furrowed brows. It’s a look you’re all too familiar with and it always makes your heart clench.

Seeing it this time also makes your head swoon and your stomach flip. “Steve?” you barely manage to get out before your legs collapse.

Part 2

[rosesnvines]

Havens of Healing

A Lord of the Rings inspired piece starring characters from Brave, How to Train Your Dragon, and the Chronicles of Prydain. Hope you enjoy!! 

Fergus yelled out in pain as Mordu toppled him over. His men rushed to his side, only to find out one of his legs was gone. 

“Get him out of here!” cried one of the men before turning to face the nightmarish bear, the leader of the Hunters of Annuvin. But the bear tossed him to the side easily and charged after Fergus and the men attempting to get him to safety. But the bear tripped and stumbled over something, sending him tumbling across the ground. He let out a fierce growl before standing. A cloaked figure jumped in the way, brandishing a sword. 

“You will leave King Fergus alone!” shouted the figure. 

Mordu laughed. “Fool! No mortal man can kill me!” 

The cloak was thrown back, and a head full of red curls cascaded down past the warrior’s shoulders. “But I am no man. I am Merida, first born of Clan Dunbroch, and I’m going to kill you for what you have done to him”! 

Mordu laughed, then bent over to look her in the eyes. “You’re welcome to try.” 

“Merida! No!” cried out Fergus. Mordu attacked, and Merida quickly moved out of his way, taking a swing at him as he went past her. Her sword made contact with his leg, and he roared in pain. He charged again, and Merida ducked and swung. She nicked his other leg. Mordu didn't wait this time, he swung. Merida ducked and rolled befoer getting up and running. Mordu chased her. 

“Coward! Face me and fight!” 

“That’s how you win every time,” muttered Merida. She noticed a bow out of the corner of her eye and raced towards it. She scooped it up, along with an arrow, turned, and fired at Mordu. It hit him square in the chest. He paused to roar with pain, giving Merida a chance to look for another arrow. She found another and quickly fired it. That only made Mordu mad and he put in some speed. Merida grabbed a third arrow and quickly shot it before getting knocked over by Mordu and landing flat on her back. He roared in her face. 

“Did you really think you stood a chance against me? And now I shall deprive Fergus of more than just his leg!” Mordu opened his mouth, then closed it with a yelp. 

“Get off of her, you dumb bear!” 

Mordu let out a roar as he seemed to react to getting slapped around. 

“I said, get off!” 

“Where are you?” Mordu scanned the area, but couldn’t see anything. 

“Didn’t they teach you anything about the Fair Folk? We can turn invisible, you idiot!” 

“Thank you Doli!” said Merida as she scooted out from under Mordu. She quickly turned her attention to finding more arrows. Staying invisible might keep Mordu occupied for now, but it wouldn’t last for long. They had to destroy him, for good. And to do that, they had to knock him off his feet to reveal his weak spot. But how to do that? 

“Show yourself, you coward!” roared Mordu as he swiped at the air. 

“And lose my one advantage? I think not,” said Doli with a scoff. While the two argued back and forth like that, Merida found and picked up a few arrows. A loud yelp made her pause in her search and glanced back at Mordu. The face of the dwarf was poking out from between the bear’s massive paw. “Merida! Help!” 

Mordu growled. “What can she do? She’s just like you.” He looked at her, a dare gleaming in his eyes. “A coward.” 

She aimed an arrow at him. “Let him go.” 

“Or you’ll do what? Shoot me? You already did three times and that didn’t stop me. I am the strongest man alive!” 

“Bear, you’re a bear. You’re certainly as dumb as one.” Doli let out a squeak as Mordu squeezed. 

“Hang on Doli, I’m coming!” Fflewddur shouted as he ran across the field. He somehow managed to avoid getting hit by the flying arrows and the tossed spears, yet got his foot stuck in a fallen saddle. He began rolling down with the saddle and a few other things before everything came to a sudden stop by ramming into Mordu. The bear went down and the dwarf went up. Merida let out a soft gasp before dashing forward, she was not going to miss this opportunity and she was going to make sure she hit her mark. She got close enough that she knew she would get a direct bull’s eye, and loosed the arrow. The arrow pierced the skin of Mordu’s back left paw. The wind whistled as it began to swirl faster and faster around the bear. 

“Fflewddur! Merida! Get out of there!” shouted Doli. Fflewddur yelped, jumped up, and was out like a shot. Merida turned and ran. But there was enough strength in Mordu that he stood and chased after her. He lunged and raked his claws across her back before dissolving into a wisp of dust. Merida screamed before falling forward and losing consciousness. 

...

When Merida came to, she found herself swallowed in pillows and blankets, safe, warm, and very, very comfortable. She wriggled herself further under the blankets and pillows, and heaved a sigh of content. She hoped her mother wouldn’t come into the room. Her eyebrows furrowed. Why hadn’t her mother come in, anyways? It wasn’t Saturday. Was it? As she tried to recollect the day, the events of the past few days came back to her in a flash. Mordu. Doli. Fflewddur. Her back. Her eyes popped open and she reached for her back, rubbing the spot where the claws met flesh. It didn’t seem like there were any open wounds any more. She frowned. That meant she had to have been unconscious for a long time. But, how long? 

The door to her room opened and a familiar figure entered. She sat straight up, her eyes wide, and a soft blush found its way to her cheeks. “Gwydion!” While he did tell her he did not love her, nor was he interested in her, his presence still stirred a longing within her that she yearned to fill. 

He smiled. “Ah, I see you are awake! Your father will be most pleased.” 

“Where is my father? Is he alright?” 

Gwydion nodded. “Oh, quite alright. His leg healed faster than your back, obviously. He’s gone to the smithy to be fitted with a peg leg. He’ll be right back up here when he’s done.” 

“And, and what of the battle? And what about Doli and Fflewddur?” 

“We have won the battle.” Gwydion’s face fell. “But there is still more to be done to defeat Arawn.” A soft smile graced his face. “But Doli and Fflewddur are alright. They would have been here as well, but I sent them off to take a message to several people. We’re going to have a meeting about that very thing here tomorrow. Maybe you should show up. Who knows what ideas you have.” 

Merida glanced down and thought about it for a moment before nodding as she glanced back up. “Yes, I’ll be there.” 

Gwydion smiled. “Wonderful.” He nodded towards the chair in the room. A pale green dress was laid across its back. “Why don’t you get dressed and I’ll show you to the kitchen. Get some food in you. You’ve been out for a week.” 

Merida’s eyes widened. “A week?!?” 

Gwydion nodded solemnly. “Yes, a week. So you really do need to get some food into you soon.” 

Merida’s stomach grumbled. She placed her hands over her stomach before grinning sheepishly at Gwydion. “I think now will be a good time.” 

“Good. I’ll wait outside for you.” Gwydion left and closed the door. Merida quickly changed and joined him. They talked about a few things while they walked towards the kitchen, but the walk was mostly quiet. Once in the kitchen, Gwydion sought out a young man not much older than twenty. “Has anyone seen Hiccup?” 

Merida quickly covered her mouth to hide her giggles. Who names their kid Hiccup? But then the guy came forward, and she was glad she did. Her eyes widened as she realized how handsome he was. She could almost forgive him for keeping such a silly name. Almost. 

“Ah, Hiccup, there you are. Can you please make sure Princess Merida is well fed? I have a few other matters to attend to, and I will let her father and her friends know where to find her.” 

Hiccup nodded. “Yes, of course, your majesty.” 

“And, I would like it if you came to the meeting as well, Hiccup.” 

Hiccup sighed. “Yes, I will come. It’s the least I can do in my father’s place.” 

Gwydion placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you my friend.” He turned to Merida. “I will see you later. I’m sure your father, Doli, and Fflewddur will be joining you shortly.” 

Merida merely nodded before Gwydion walked away. 

Hiccup let out a sigh. Merida glanced at him. “At least you were trying to not laugh,” he muttered. 

Merida blinked before realizing she still had her hand over her mouth. She took it away. “Oh, right, sorry … hiccup.” 

He waved his hand, sighing again. “I know, I know, it’s not a common name to be naming one’s child. But, it is a Viking tradition and …” 

“Hiccup.” Oh no. 

He blinked. “What?” 

Merida waved her hands. “Oh no, it’s just … hiccup.” 

Hiccup’s eyes widened when he realized what was happening. Merida had a case of the hiccups! He burst out laughing. “I gave you the hiccups!” 

“It is not funny! It’s annoying!” 

“Exactly why I got my name,” replied Hiccup with a grin. 

“Oh hang it … hiccup … all. Just … hiccup … get me some … hiccup … food, will ya? Hiccup.” 

Hiccup laughed. “Right this way. We’ll have you stuffed and cured of the hiccups in no time.” Merida was stuffed and cured of the hiccups in no time. Not long into her meal, Fergus, Fflewddur, and Doli joined her and they got her caught up on all the news. Even learning that Taran, Ellidyr, and Gurgi had made it into the enemy’s camp and was searching for the Black Cauldron at that very moment. That, in fact, was what the meeting was to be about, how they could help them get to the Black Cauldron without being seen. But while Merida listened to every word and thought it all interesting, she couldn’t help but be distracted by the green eyes of a boy with a strange name. Maybe, once this was all over, they could see if anything was to come of the attraction, and if there was one on Hiccup’s part. But first, they had a Dark Lord to defeat.