#last time I was actively around we were having discussions about how people were confusing misce tags for generic omegaverse related ones

[omegapheromone]

Hiya, I've been on a lengthy hiatus from online misce spaces for various reasons, but I'm preparing to get a bit more active again finally! Sorry to everyone who sent asks either before or during this time, I know I've been away for AGES so I don't know if I'll answer every single one right away.

That being said, how has everyone been? What's new? Are people still having random drama over nothing? Have the misce spaces and omegaverse fiction/author spaces separated further again? What's the hot topic to talk about currently /hj

No but I do want to know. How has everyone been? I won't tag any specific people since it's been a long time since I've interacted with anyone, but please don't hesitate to respond to this post, send asks, dms, whatever- I'm glad to be back and feeling more stable again ^^

[the-nerdiest-insanity]

Home Is With You

Also on Ao3

Day 3 of the Dead Boy Detectives Pride Month Prompts- "I miss home"

Three days after returning from Port Townsend, a new case sent the trio out of the country again. The boys barely had a chance to start accommodating the office, and Crystal hadn’t even figured out where she would want to stay in London yet. Someone from Crystal’s past, currently residing in Ireland, needed their assistance. Apparently, old Crystal threw around information on her powers as freely as her parents’ money.

A painful hour and a half flight later, the agency had landed in Dublin. Crystal was attempting to calm the boys down the whole time, telling them it would be a quick and easy case. Edwin was making it well known that he still objected to traveling the long way even though the other two clearly saw how fascinated he was with air travel every time. Oddly, Charles was pacing both the airport and the plane like a caged animal the whole time. He brushed off both Crystal and Edwin’s advances in conversation, constantly keeping his head on a swivel. 

Crystal’s friend, Emily, picked them up from the airport while debriefing them on the current status of the case. Emily recently moved into a new apartment, and it appeared to be haunted. Objects of hers disappearing, banging in the night, things moving through the air on their own, etcetera. Crystal shot the boys a few looks, attempting to tell them, “See? Easy.” Edwin still appeared annoyed, and Charles agitated.

The drive was short, and they were swiftly at Emily’s door. As she was about to turn the handle, she turned back to Crystal, saying, “Be careful walking around in there.” Her eyes drifted passed Crystal’s shoulder to look at the boys. “All of you.”

Charles instinctively reached an arm in front of Edwin while reaching one toward the back of Crystal’s jacket. “Crystal, wait–”

Emily opened the door, and a black cat scrambled out through everyone’s legs. The agency members all jumped back while Emily sighed, “Tinks, what did we discuss about scaring new people?”

The cat squinted at their owner and meowed indignantly. 

“They’re here to stop whoever or whatever is messing with us, so play nice,” Emily replied.

Tinks glanced over the newcomers, their gaze lingering momentarily on Edwin. Charles stepped slightly in front of the other ghost. Seemly satiated, Tinks trotted back into the apartment.

“Sorry about her,” Emily said, now moving in as well, “She’s very territorial, especially with everything strange going on.”

The detectives lingered outside the door, staring in. They could see a sitting room on the left with a connected kitchen and a short hallway on the right leading likely to Emily’s bedroom or whatever other rooms she had. In the bit of the kitchen they could see, there were herbs hanging to dry with a bookshelf separating it from the living room. A couple of the books had copies on the agency’s shelves.

Charles gently grabbed Crystal’s arm and led her a couple more steps away from the door. “You didn’t tell us your friend knew about the supernatural.”

Crystal looked just as stunned and confused. “I didn’t know! She wasn’t this invested in it the last time I saw her.” She glanced around the still-empty complex hallway and stepped closer to whisper, “The last time I saw her was three years ago when I made out with her girlfriend after she told me she thought I was hot. I wasn’t exactly keeping tabs on her lifestyle choices after that.”

“Did you really lead us to a different country yet again to help someone who, this time, actively dislikes you, last you knew?” Edwin butted in, having overheard.

“I’m trying to be a better person,” Crystal defended. “In case you forgot, and part of that is trying to help people I hurt and fix our broken relationships.”

“Alright,” Charles broke the two up harshly. “Let’s just get the information we need and get out of here. I don’t like the feel of this place.”

“Are you three going to come in or just keep whispering about me at my door?” Emily asked.

Edwin and Crystal both huffed. “Let us begin our investigation,” Edwin declared before finally entering the house.

…

Three hours later, they were getting nowhere. None of the strange phenomena occurred, and physically searching the place came up empty. It was getting dark, so Crystal politely declined Emily’s spare bedroom in favor of going to the hotel she’d booked.

Crystal threw down her small bag and flopped onto the bed. “Don’t wake me until 9 or there’s a fire,” she mumbled into a pillow, knowing the boys would get the gist.

Edwin sat down on the couch, flipping through his notes to see if he might have missed any possible leads. Emily clearly can see ghosts and communicate with supernatural creatures, so why can’t she see what’s in her apartment? Unless they were using some form of cloaking, but he’d need something more specific. “Charles, do you have…” Edwin trailed off as he looked up at his partner. Charles was pacing again. His brow was furrowed as his hands were opening and clenching at his sides. “Are you alright, Charles?” Edwin asked instead.

Charles stopped and plastered on a smile. He opened his mouth before letting his face fall and rethinking his words. “I just…” He fidgeted with his jacket’s zipper. “It’s been a lot lately, yeah?” He began slowly pacing once more. “I mean, Post Townsend was a whole thing itself, then we barely get a moment’s peace at the office before being shuffled off to another country again. Plus, we got Charlie and Crystal, and we’ve still got no idea what Jenny’s doing. We went to Hell, got tortured, and lost Niko and…” He stopped pacing, grunting in frustration.

Edwin stood, trying to figure out how to help when Charles continued, “Don’t get me wrong, Crystal and everyone, they’re aces, but I just miss us, you know? It was so much easier.” Charles stopped and turned to stare Edwin down. He was breathing heavily looking on the verge of tears. “I miss home,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

Before Edwin had a chance to wonder what Charles’s parents had to do with this, he was being enveloped in a hug. Oh. That kind of home.

Carefully, Edwin reciprocated, holding tightly as Charles hiccupped sobs onto his shoulder. As the tears slowly died out, Edwin gently and firmly said, “Home will always be right here. I’m not leaving, and you certainly won’t let anything take me away.” Charles huffed out a weak laugh. “We’ll be back at the agency very soon, and I will talk to both Crystal and the Night Nurse about not taking any long-distance cases for a year.”

Charles sniffled and pulled away just enough to look at Edwin as he said, “You don’t have to do that, mate. It’s fine.”

Edwin squeezed his shoulder, refusing to let go until the other did. “No, it’s not. I don’t like these types of cases either, and we shouldn’t have to push ourselves. We didn’t for thirty years and shouldn’t change now for others.”

Charles’s eyes fluttered over Edwin’s face, making him want to look away. Softly, Charles brought their heads together. “Never change, Edwin Payne,” he whispered.

“Nor you, Charles Rowland.:

[lyssaterald]

Take Flight, Lesson 7-12: It's Evil to Pretend You're Never Evil

Put on the spot and pulled aside from the tour, things take a spicy turn. Until they aren't. Until things go astray and come back to bite us.

A/N: Uhhh...so this ran off on me. I REGRET NOTHING!!! Just a note, this became a little lore heavy from my own created universe. I think I made it succinct enough for people to understand and enjoy. I've edited this thing several times, so let me know if anything is too confusing and I will take another look.

Content Warning: General spoilers for the main story. Minors and ageless accounts do not interact! Named character, and MORE THAN slight mentions of character’s past and history which ARE expanded on as they ARE important to this chapter. Weirdly, I switch between past and present tense. Sorry, not sorry. Unbeta read.

NO SMUT!

Some references are made to previous chapters. See the Masterlist.

------

We continued through the underground tour of the Demon King's palace, the Little D chattering animatedly to anyone who was still listening to it. Mammon's eye was roving over certain items even as Beel kept trying to gnaw on him, which he would stop doing when I gave him the different snacks I had brought for him. Levi was actively engaged in his phone and I was using guiding him as a distraction from how close Diavolo kept coming. Simeon, Luke, and Solomon were discussing the merits of the Devildom's history as compared to that of the Celestial Realm's own version of those events. Asmo had fallen back a little to admire himself in the reflection of a cursed shield. Lucifer, though, seemed more interested in Diavolo and I than the tour itself.

Diavolo's touch to my shoulder had me looking back at him. He curled a finger at me and I allowed the others to draw ahead of me, Levi included even as he tripped over an uneven part of the pathway. Mammon and Lucifer both looked at us, but kept moving. Belatedly, I tightened the pact-bonds and sealed them before allowing them to fade from my attention.

Easier not to have my pact-mates' emotions distracting me while I was being bothered by my own and Diavolo's scent.

"Are you enjoying the tour?" Diavolo asked me and, for a second, I was distracted by the way his lips moved.

Stop it. It was easier said than done.

"I find it-" I hesitated over the polite lie. He could tell truth from lies and, anyways, there was no reason for me to spare his feelings. "It's interesting, if a little dull sometimes," I settled on.

He grinned at me and I had to look away to the others in order to keep moving. Was he teasing me? Probably not...hopefully.

It might have been several weeks since I had been summoned to the Devildom and I might have gained three pact-mates in that time, but I still didn't fully trust any of them-except maybe Mammon, but this was a different matter.

I hadn't thought I would be affected by the Rut, which only came about every twenty years. It would have been the first to affect me in my life since I had been too young for the last to have an impact on me. And of course it had to happen in the Devildom, away from the safety of other dragons.

Diavolo caught my elbow as the others passed around a corner. Reluctantly, I stopped and looked at Diavolo, whose expression was somewhat bemused. "I asked if you were alright, Lys. You seem distracted," he said.

I am distracted.

"You know you ask me anything, right?"

Not about this, nope. Not right now.

He must have read something in my expression because he pulled me just a step closer so my hip brushed his. His breath was hot on my ear when he dipped his head and breathed, "You smell much sweeter today than usual. Did one of the brothers gift you with a perfume? I might have to track it down."

I shivered and only watched him, my eyes tracing over his features and then his lips again.

"Lys?"

"I'm...not really fine," I admitted with a nervous swallow. "Its just personal stuff." And it was.

He pulled me around just a little and stepped closer, bringing me that much closer to him. I could feel the heat of his body through the layers of his uniform and when I tried to step back he followed me, neither crowding nor pushing until I felt the railing pressing into my back and his chest flush to mine. His knee brushed the inside of mine and my legs opened to him.

He pushed closer to me and dropped his head to the juncture of my shoulder and neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell a little like a demon in Rut."

Demons have Ruts?

"We do, yes."

Oh, I said that out loud.

"You did. Why do you smell like you're in Rut, Lys?"

I didn't want to answer him. Sweat was sliding down my back and he smelled good. Fight or fuck. That was how dragons usually got through their Ruts. My temper had been closer to the surface these last few days, but I was leaning closer to fuck than fighting right then.

"Were you given something to eat that put you in this state?" Diavolo asked, pulling away from me.

Hopping up on the railing, I balanced there on my hands and grinned to see Diavolo's eyes widen just a fraction. He steadied me with a hand on my back. Falling would be easy enough if he were interrogating me. Wings generally made safe for dragons what was dangerous for a number of other species. A number of demons had wings in their Other form and I was fairly sure Diavolo had wings, too, but the next level wasn't too far away and at least a couple below that within a few wing-lengths.

Still, I didn't feel much like leaving his warmth.

"Were you given something to eat that made you give off this scent?" he asked again.

"No, I wasn't." Likely, he had seen glimpses of my claws and fangs over the weeks and had put something together along with our conversations. They were the ones that had decided I was entirely human.

"You haven't lied when you said you were human," he stated, looking a little puzzled.

"I am human." Just not as human as they thought.

"Do you come from a family of witches and sorcerers?"

It was rather fun giving him half-answers and watching him try to figure things out. He wasn't stupid, just a little dense sometimes or else he pretended to be. Like when Lucifer and I directed sarcasm in his direction.

"Magic runs thick in my bloodlines," I said.

Frustration flashed across his face and he ran a hand through his hair. I touched a thumb to one of his cheekbones, testing what he was comfortable with. And maybe his actual intentions.

He stepped into me until he was leaning against the railing and my legs were opened to him. I hooked my arms around his neck and pulled him as close as possible. His head tilted to the side as he considered me, his golden eyes glittering.

"Am I reading you correctly?" he asked. "Or is this a human thing?"

"Humans don't have Ruts."

"But you are human."

"Yes."

He lowered his head until our lips almost touched, his breath feathering across my skin. I wanted to initiate the kiss, but I waited. Diavolo was the stronger one here and thus I had to be patient. "You aren't fully human."

"No."

He pulled back and I growled lowly, loosening my grip on him. If he was just interrogating me, his scent wouldn't have been as heavy as it was, sharper than usual and headier. "Were you sent by the Council of Lords?"

My head cocked to the side and I frowned at him. Dame had her own council of advisors, but the way he said it, it sounded like it was more like an organization. "The Council of what? Is that an assembly of your nobles?"

"Council of Lords. And yes, they are...of a sort."

I studied him for a long moment. "I wasn't sent by anyone, princeling. Demon lords, nobles, humans, or otherwise." My blood was cooling and my temper was rising again. "In fact, I didn't even know demons existed except in stories until the day you snatched me from my family." From their seat and heart of power, as it were. "If you've nothing else to discuss with me, I would ask that you stand back and allow my leave. As I've said before, you are not my ruler and there is no reason for me to yield to you."

It was hard to bite my tongue with the Rut washing through me, but I wouldn't betray those dear to me just to satisfy that itch. Diavolo was watching me.

"You've been telling the truth this whole time." No fucking shit, asshole.

My lips curled up in a snarl and when I yanked him down to me, it was more of a violent clash of teeth and tongue than anything. His hand on my waist tightened almost painfully, enough that I gasped. He took the chance to take control and slide his tongue alongside mine, deepening the kiss and tasting me.

His lips muffled my groan as I fumbled at his blazer and tugged the buttons apart until his hands caught mine, pressing my fingers into his abdomen and stopping my frustrated tugging. He pulled back and I did snarl at him. He shouldn't have pulled me back from the others if he was only going to be frustrating. But I wasn't so lost in the Rut, and it's influence wasn't so strong, that I couldn't stop my own actions and accept rejection.

I yanked my hand from his and pushed at his chest, but he didn't step back. "You'll fall," he said, a little breathless.

The laugh he ripped from my throat was sharp and harsh. "I'm not afraid of heights, princeling. These heights are nothing to the mountains of my home." My frustration was growing such that I wasn't even sure anymore if I wanted to fight or fuck.

Finally, he stepped back enough to allow me down from the railing, but he didn't move back any further. He kept me trapped between his body and the air at my back. "You are frustrating, Diavolo. What are you even doing? I've answered all the questions I am willing to right now."

"Just...will you answer one more?"

I pressed the palm of my hand into my forehead and tried to will my rapid pulse to slow down, not that it worked. "You can ask, but I might not answer."

"Is this just the Rut, or...is there someone else that you want?"

Did I want him or would I have jumped anyone that had pulled me aside? was his actual question and I tamped down the desire to jam my palm into his face. One, rude. Two, stupid in more ways that one.

Slowly, I drew in a deep breath and answered, "Rut aside, you and Lucifer are the only two individuals that I find physically attractive enough to want to fuck." My glare was only a little reproachful. He was also trying to be considerate, which was more than I could say for a few of my past partners.

Violence or sex didn't have to be the answer to my Rut. There was...one...other way to handle it, especially if it felt like the situation could take a turn for the worse. But it was uncomfortable and embarrassing, usually for both parties involved. In fact, it was starting to look like the more appealing option. I started to coax my family-bonds to the forefront of my consciousness, the less mature Twins being left as they were.

"I think...this would be better moved elsewhere, Lys," Diavolo said, placing a kiss to my forehead and then stepping back.

I blinked at him, caught on the family-bond of my dame. Her bond was starting to awaken at my attention, its seals starting to loosen. That was shut down like slamming a door on someone's face.

Diavolo was offering me his hand, a bemused look on his face. He was right. This wasn't the place to even be engaging in this conversation. Probably, he hadn't meant for the turn this conversation had taken, but I'd been caught up by my own blood.

And then the ruler's bond woke on Dame's side and, of course, this was the one that I had no control over. It was like being thrown into the middle of the Arctic ocean as her annoyance and worry washed through me. It was still a strained thing, complicated with the distance, realms, and different surrounding magics. Words were almost impossible, but I caught enough flickers of images from her side to understand she was in a meeting with her own council of advisors.

She only did a quick assessment of my emotions and then she was draining the magic that the Rut had awakened with. And, just as quickly, she shut the bond down. It wouldn't be a permanent solution, but she had bought me time and embarrassment. I could only cover my face with my hands to try and hide the embarrassed flush creeping up my neck.

"Lys?" Diavolo's voice was concerned as he stroked his fingers across my own. "Your scent has changed again."

"I know."

"Can I ask what happened?"

"No."

"Oh."

A tense silence hung between us for a long moment. "Lys," Diavolo began. "Are you...embarrassed?"

Feeling humiliated, but, "Yes. And it has nothing to do with this situation."

Another moment of silence and he leaned into me, pressing my hips to the railing again. "Lie," he stated.

Well, fucking FUCK.

"It has nothing to do with you, princeling."

Trying to use that nickname to draw a line between us backfired. His fingers slipped beneath mine and, gently, he cupped my face until I was looking at him. His eyes were almost amused as he smiled at me. "That's not quite a lie, but it isn't fully the truth either."

At that point, I could only sigh and fight down the emotions I was almost choking with. "I'm not even remotely related to a demon as far as I know."

"Alright."

"And there's a way to put off the effects of the Rut."

"Really?" His tone was more than a little interested. He must have read the confusion in my expression, because he continued, "Demons haven't figured out a way to do such a thing. That kind of information could be useful, later."

Oh. Except, "I can't tell you how it was done, only that it put off the effects of my own Rut for a while." Revealing that dragons could form bonds between each other and that a ruler's bond gave that individual absolute control of the other party wasn't something that was lightly shared outside of our own species.

And telling the Ruler of another species that I was the daughter of our own Ruler wasn't something I would willingly share. Besides, I wasn't even remotely an Heir, so that information would gain them nothing even if it was known to him.

One of his thumbs stroked across my cheekbone before he released me and stepped back. His public mask was slipping into place again when he next smiled. "That's alright, Lyssa," he said. "It's probably something species specific, so it likely wouldn't do me any good to know."

And that was the line he was drawing. Somehow, being on the other side of someone else drawing a line, I felt insulted. It didn't help that the heady scent of our arousal was still lingering between us, musky and somehow sweet.

Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist when he took another step back. Rather than looking at him, I looked down at my fingers and the grip he was allowing me. "It's just...a sensitive topic, Diavolo." Humiliating and sensitive. "I can't talk about it without the permission of my own ruler and she's a long way away." It was the truth and yet more complicated.

A finger under my chin lifted my eyes up to his and then he was kissing me in a chaste manner, just a there and gone brush. I didn't follow him when he pulled away but I kept eye contact with him and he let my hand slip into his.

"I...shouldn't have pushed you so hard for answers," he admitted and I smiled wryly.

"You look after an entire realm, Diavolo. I understand some of the duties that come first when it comes to your people." Dame had to put the majority of dragons before even her own children, sometimes. "It's not like you can set those duties aside for anything." Dame has us and her own siblings, but did he have anyone?

It suddenly clicked for me why he was so tactless with the Brothers and I sometimes. Diavolo didn't have anyone else but Barbatos, the Brothers, and, by extension, me. In his own way, like the Brothers among themselves, he was trying to connect with us, but he was also a Ruler and therefore not used to being told "No." Even Lucifer had a hard time turning him down and, more often than not, appeared to give into him. Diavolo might consider Lucifer his best friend and right hand, but there was only so far a relationship like theirs could tilt before it became a power imbalance unless Diavolo could accept the "No" that someone gave him.

"You can still ask me for help with anything, Lys," he said quietly and brushed his lips across my knuckles.

"I'll keep that in mind, and maybe even take you up on that," I answered with a heated blush.

With our hands still linked, I tugged him in the direction that the others had vanished to and assumed he knew where everything and everyone would be, like my dame would have. That was my mistake, but it also gave us time for me to calm down and the scent of arousal to fade from us.

-------

We were lost and I couldn't stop giggling at his confused expression. There was no fear of danger here, not with the master of the castle at my side. Our fingers had become linked at some point and I was having too much fun with our situation. It was also cute that he didn't entirely know his way around his own home. Oh, he recognized everything and could even recount memories of the the last time he had come through the area, just not which direction led where. Or he was pretending to do so. Either way, I didn't really mind and there was no reason for me to call attention to either fact.

Until enough time had passed that concern from Mammon, Beel, and Levi was evident from their pact-bonds, even under seal. "I can track their general direction," I offered to Diavolo and he looked at me curiously again. Why hadn't he asked me to do that already?

"Alright," was all he said.

Allowing the seals to ease open so they didn't overwhelm me took most of my attention from Diavolo. Following the pull of the general direction also took most of my attention because I was trying to manage all three pact-bonds at the same time, and he didn't say anything to distract me, so overlooking his curiosity in that instance didn't even register as anything important.

There was a tentative pull back from Mammon and his worry turned to relief. Probably he could feel that I was looking for him with our pact-bond. The worry that Levi and Beel were feeling was becoming a distraction so I allowed those two to fade from my attention, just becoming something that I was peripherally aware of-like my family bonds.

For a while, we just walked in silence with our hands still linked. There were times that I had to walk back and forth while looking at the stone ceiling, and then turn back and take a different turn than what we had originally taken, but his grip on my hand was a gentle constant that kept me aware of him.

And then I was standing in the middle of a corridor and staring at the ceiling above us, feeling Mammon's pact-bond tighten and pull, loosen, tighten and pull. To my senses it seemed like he was doing the same as I had been for a while. The pact-bond was almost like a taut string being pulled tight between us until it was a straight up and down.

Pointing at the spot where I could feel the pact-bond pulling me, I said, "Mammon is right above us, probably everyone else, too. Unless he separated off the main group to look for us."

"Can you tell how many individuals are with him?"

I coaxed my other two pact-bonds to the surface and pulled on them. It resulted in the same general location, just slightly differing from Mammon's. "Unless there are multiple rooms above us, then definitely Levi and Beel. Otherwise, no, that's not something I can tell with pacts." Images and words wouldn't pass through them no matter which way that I pulled or pushed. They just didn't seem to work like my family bonds, which was why I kept thinking of them as pact-bonds.

"With just pacts, right? Do you have another way to track individuals?"

"Yeah."

"Is it with a spell or anything?"

I was focused on the three pact-bonds moving in the small circles above us, almost like they were confused about my location. "Not a spell," I replied absently when Mammon pulled out pact-bond tightly again.

"How many pacts do you carry?"

"Three."

"What else do you use to track location, if not with pacts or spells?"

Bonds, I almost told him. Except the words lodged in my throat and refused to cross my lips. I snapped my attention to him on that question and the restriction it had evoked with my ruler's bond.

His expression wasn't that of a friend or a potential lover. The only one I had seen where that mask before was my dame when she was dealing with us as a ruler and not as a parent. It was the cold calculation and differentiation that she had to make with us, her own children, and what Diavolo was looking at me with right then.

A cold chill slithered down my spine, but I didn't release his hand, couldn't even if I had wanted to. His grip was stronger, just shy of painful. I released my pact-bonds and buried them again, not that it would help.

"I can't tell you that," I told him flatly.

The ruler's bond was pulling tighter around my throat, awakening with it's master's attention and a Ruler's weight behind it. This wouldn't be my dame checking on me as she had done earlier...if we kept on this topic.

"Can't or won't?"

"Can't," I snapped back and then the ruler's bond had entirely awakened and was pulling at my memories-something that was difficult and slow and painful this time, because she was pulling the full memory of his questions and my answers across realms. "Stop asking!"

And then I doubled in on myself, keening, wings closing around my body. Pain and worry and fear consumed me. Would she break me? Could she survive breaking me? Our thoughts were meshing and we couldn't stop this, even trying, pushing, pulling. Don't break! I'm sorry.

Lyssa.

Screaming and holding the wave from my bonds and pact-bonds was all I could do.

------

Mammon was off and running right before the high screams reached them. They already knew who it was. Levi and Beel both went pale in that moment, Levi doubling up clutching his head while Beel caught his brother before the fall and crouched over him. Then the screams pitched higher and Luke and Simeon weren't far behind as they looked for a stairway to the next level.

Lucifer was the one to go over the railings to the next level down. He was the first to reach Diavolo, who was kneeling helplessly over a writhing form.

-----

She was finally unconscious. Solomon was kneeling next to the couch that they had placed her on for examination, his own powers pulsing around her. Red was flickering in and out of sight wherever his power tried to push at her skin. He was frowning and it was driving Mammon into a pacing frenzy. Beel and Levi watched him from across the room where they could also see Diavolo and Lucifer quietly discussing something.

After the initial flash of agony, the pain had subsided into a minor headache for Levi. Mammon and Beel hadn't received any of the backlash across their own pacts with her, but they had known something was up.

"It's a magic tied deep in her blood or soul, maybe both," Solomon finally said. "There's nothing to suggest she's being affected by demonic magic, so I doubt its an attack by one of your nobles, Diavolo. As far as I can tell, it's her own magic, but not. Lyssa is being both attacked and protected by that same magic. Her own efforts were divided into shielding her pacts and herself."

"Lys was sheildin' us?" Mammon asked, stopping in his tracks and staring at the rug he was pacing on. "If she hadn't done that, would she be ok now?"

"Doubtful. That magic wasn't looking for the pacts and seems to be just sliding over them. Like I said, this magic is independent of her's. What was happening just before the attack set in?"

Lucifer and Diavolo paused their conversation when all eyes in the room turned to them, Solomon's gaze especially interested. "I was questioning her about some of the inconsistencies we've seen with her these last few weeks," Diavolo told him.

"And what are those?" Solomon asked, his gaze sharper.

Diavolo detailed out the things he had seen and been told about with claws, fangs, and then wings that day. "I've looked into the different nobles that would have an interest in the exchange program failing, but none of them have been very active in the last few years," Lucifer said, his voice suddenly tight. "I cannot find anything to suggest she is anything but human."

"Lyssa is, I believe, mostly human. What else her other species is, it isn't demon and she was speaking the truth when she said that she didn't know we were real until a few weeks ago." She groaned and all attention turned onto her right then, but she remained unconscious. Continuing, Diavolo said, "Solomon, you have extensive knowledge of the human world. Do you know of any kind of non-human species that live alongside them?"

"There are...a few," Solomon said carefully. Whatever else, his first priority was the continued protection of the human realm. "For example, there are werewolves that can just as easily pass as humans, except for the few days in a month they get furry. Mostly, though, that transformation can be managed through potions and the purchase of a sorcerer's skills."

"Anything else? It doesn't seem that the characteristics she has been showing are in any way furry," Diavolo pressed.

Solomon pursed his lips and studied the demons present. The lot of them had been slowly falling into Lyssa's orbit as she worked to get along with the Hell Lords and ensure a peaceful home environment. She obviously knew a bit of magic and the knowledge and vocabulary she had been showing signs of meant that she was an educated woman, not separated from the human realm. Giving the demons knowledge of species such as elves, sirens, and vampires didn't seem like a good idea. The werewolves were an open secret and easily discovered in dealing with the Sorcerer's Society. Still, there was one possibility, even if it was a remote one. They could, after all, look after themselves.

"About a hundred years ago, I spent a decade or so as a...guest...of a species that looked human most days, but they could also transform into dragons," Solomon said. "As much as their majority despised humans, and attempted to kill me on a daily basis, their ruler seemed intent on bringing human blood into their species, to help with something that was twisted within their own. That, however, was something of a failure at the time since the children they kept having had to be killed for one reason or another. Deformities and such."

"What about claws, fangs, and wings in a human form?"

"They did have those, though they seemed to be able to control which they were displaying. Wings seemed to be a rarer feature than the others."

Diavolo stared at Solomon for a moment, considering the sorcerer's words. Then, he nodded. "That seems to fit enough facts that we can assume Lyssa is at least part dragon. When she first got here, it appeared that they had tried to summon her back, but I was able to thwart it. Now, it's an attack on her? Should I assume they are hostile to her now?"

Of course, Diavolo was assuming that demons would naturally overpower a mortal species that resembled humans. Not that he was wrong.

"I don't know. As far as I know, they are a long lived species and their ruler had been in place for a long while. He wasn't fond of humans, per se, but the fact remains that Lyssa retains mostly human blood if you don't think she was somehow tricking you."

"No, she wasn't. I assumed she was entirely human when we brought her here and she went along with that. If this is the result of a few questions, I can't fault her for not telling us she was also something else." He was looking at the woman in question now, his arms still crossed over his blazer.

"She's probably one of the results of the earlier experiments that I mentioned, maybe even a generation later," Solomon decided on.

"Hybrids," Lyssa croaked, her voice likely hoarse from screaming earlier. "We're called hybrids by the courts. I'm a second generation product, unable to fully transform even though I retain our secondary features." She looked like she was waiting for something and then sighed in relief when nothing happened. "Our ruler doesn't need to be assumed to be hostile to me or demons, in general, Diavolo. The attack was an accident. Normally, they would try and protect me, but its hard across realms. Our magic is thinned and I'm on my own here."

Every word she gave them was the truth.

"Courts? Are there more than one?"

Solomon looked to Lyssa and she shook her head at him. "We only have one ruler at this time for the entirety of our species."

"Solomon?"

The sorcerer shrugged and stood from his spot, dusting his outfit at the knees. "I was a guest so my information and interaction was rather limited. There could have been more than one court, but I'm not sure."

Lyssa was watching the other human before her blue-silver gaze slid across Mammon, Beel, and Levi. The relief on her face was so apparent that it made Diavolo relax. Whatever else, Lyssa really didn't mean them harm. If anything, she was walking a fine line between loyalty to her own kind and participating in an exchange program with them. The pacts she was collecting were likely a means of ensuring her own safety. She tentatively pushed herself up and placed a hand on her temple.

"The ruler you were with, Solomon," Lyssa began and paused again, like she was waiting for something. "The ruler you were with was likely Mathis. He probably had you brought in because of your knowledge of magic and your human blood. A hundred years ago was probably about the right time to bring in the humans he did. Did he place you with any females during the time that you were with them?"

Her gaze flickered up to the other human. Solomon was frowning at her as they studied each other. "Let me guess, he rotated you with several female guards on a weekly basis and you seduced one or more in an attempt to escape."

There was no judgement or sympathy in her voice or body when she stated that fact and Solomon's eyebrows went up in surprise. "That's...fairly accurate. I got away because one of them fell in love with me."

She hissed and pressed the heel of her palm harder to her temple. "Then you might just have a child or two running among the dragons. Mathis only released the humans that were no longer useful to him since he didn't want too many from the same bloodlines to cross with the...dragons, let's just say dragons...with the dragons that he ruled."

Solomon actually seemed to freeze up at that news. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting that. "He was fairly brutal. Some of the humans he brought in were killed in the worst ways."

"They probably pissed him off or his orders weren't strict enough with those dragons." It was an absent remark, like those were just facts to her.

"Are you in danger from this...Mathis?" Diavolo asked, frowning.

"No."

Truth. Then...

"He's no longer your ruler, then, or at least not your current one."

She was studying him with a guarded look when she dropped her hand into her lap. "If you're actually serious about bringing peace to the three realms, the mortal one especially, you'll likely run into some hybrids that have been placed within the human leadership around their world. Our current ruler wants as little conflict with them as possible. The humans that were still with us when the ruler took their role were given the choice of going back into the mortal realm or remaining under our protection." The information was almost offered as a distraction, except that it was actually important.

She's a long way away. Lyssa had given him that information in the heat of a moment and now she was protecting the information on the gender of her ruler. He didn't bring it up or correct her, but the information was interesting. Just another piece to fit into the puzzle that she was and where she fit into the worlds at large.

Lyssa was quiet for a long minute as she continued to hold Diavolo's golden gaze. Beel, Levi, and Mammon were almost holding their breaths as they waited for a decision to be made. Lucifer was observing the other human and waiting for something to happen.

"Where does your family sit within the hierarchy of the dragon courts?"

She almost seemed to freeze with the question and a low growl was emanating from her throat. "I'm not going to tell you that."

"Even under threat of torture?" He wasn't going to, but it was interesting that she smiled and the three Avatars she had pacts with tensed up.

"Even under threat of torture," she confirmed.

"You're used to threats of violence being held against you," Diavolo observed.

Her smile widened just a little and then she pulled the shirt she was wearing over her head so that she was showing off the skin of her stomach, shoulders, and arms. It wasn't how he had wanted her to get undressed and certainly not in the presence of others, but...

She was slender, fit, and there were a number of scars that crossed over her shoulders and stretched out of sight onto her back. Just above the waistline of her jeans, there were three jagged mark from what looked like a claw across her hip. Across her stomach, there was another set of four lines that crossed over her skin. Some of those scars were almost faint against her skin, but others were still the knotted ugliness of wounds just barely healed. Diavolo's stomach twisted at the sight as he studied her skin. Even Solomon didn't have so many scars and he had to be thousands of years older than her.

"Violence isn't anything new to me, Diavolo," she admitted. "Fights are common among dragons and the species at large, but hybrids are threatened all the more due to our human blood. There aren't a lot of us and fewer every year unless they are outside of the location we live."

Truth. She lived among the bulk of that species and it was a willing existence, at that. For once, Diavolo didn't know what to say. In the silence that followed, she put the long-sleeve shirt back on and pulled her golden hair from the collar.

She was still holding his gaze, so calm it was as if she were already sure of the decision he would make. "Well?" she asked.

"Well what?"

"What are you going to do with me?"

His thoughts flashed to something very not related to their situation at hand and he had to take a second to redirect those thoughts. Her expression drained of emotion as she continued to hold his gaze. Fearless.

And then she glanced at Mammon, Levi, and Beel and there was the fear he had expected. The scent of it was sweet, almost cloying, not unlike when she had been giving off those Rut pheromones, but it was also somehow sickening.

"If I am to be killed, will it hurt them? Or is there someway to sever the pacts beforehand?"

Mammon lurched towards her, but stopped under his brother's glare and the weight of Diavolo's continued silence. She was afraid of hurting those she had taken pacts with.

"Are you a threat to my realm?"

"No."

Truth, again.

"Is your family a threat?"

Her silence was a heavy one when she turned her eyes back to his and considered that question. "I don't know. They're likely angry that I was snatched away from them, but I don't know that their strength would even come close to that of your Hell Lords."

She was giving the truth as she understood it and still she was calm for all that she had and had not revealed. Likely there was a secret there she would take to the grave and those she would protect with it.

"And Diaval?"

Her head tilted even as she grimaced. "You should find a way to communicate with him if he was truly sent in my place and you intend for the exchange program to be a success with him. I can't say for sure he could blend in with the normal dragons."

So, she thought an individual demon wasn't a threat, even one from among his own nobles. There had also been reports of her being involved in scraps with some of the lesser demons and putting them in their places. Her fear had been real when Levi had threatened her just before their pact had been made and when Lucifer had threatened her and Luke. But maybe that had been fear that she wouldn't be able to protect Luke. And she hadn't brought any of her pacts to bear against Lucifer even during that threat.

"You didn't summon Beel, Mammon, or Levi when Lucifer threatened you."

Lyssa frowned at that, her expression twisting in confusion. "Mammon was there. He would have tried to protect Luke and I don't believe Lucifer would have turned on his own family." She really hadn't thought of using the Brothers against each other.

She was used to fighting for herself and protecting her own.

"Then, I don't see why we can't continue as before," he said and she startled at the words. "You still meet the requirements that were set for the exchange program and I see no reason to lose the progress you've made here over this." He smiled and she looked suspicious. "Besides, this could be an interesting development with your...family." Her face twisted in a snarl at the insinuation he was making and he had to work to keep his laughter to himself. She was cute when she got defensive.

After that, Diavolo and Lucifer took their leave to discuss things further in private and left her alone with Solomon, Beel, Levi, and Mammon. There was a crash, a yelp, and then laughter; and he wasn't jealous at all.

[mommypills]

Life is Strange Rewrite

HELLO CHAT. i know it's been entirely too long since i've posted anything but i feel like i need to get this out somewhere besides in my poor friends' dms. i have no idea how active the LiS tags are, but it matters not; i am ready to unleash my super autism upon whoever is willing to read this post!

you've read the title, i assume. i started rewatching a playthrough of LiS and BtS fairly recently, though i've been a fan since... well... a while. at least since 2018, perhaps earlier. i will admit, i wasn't quite in tune with the story during those years because i was a young child. simply put, i grew up with this series—thank you for introducing me to these awkward lesbians, ma—and had almost no outside opinions to consider.

enter 2024 hal with internet access and a dozen friends who don't mind discussing things with me. i have one friend who has a distaste for the game and was in the same boat with me until somewhat recently. to keep it short, they don't like chloe because of all the things she's done throughout the entire game; especially the options where you choose to go against her. i have probably given chloe the benefit of the doubt for years due to my heavy relating to her character... unfortunately.

as you would guess, i consider myself a writer. i do writer things, like stare at a google doc for 30 minutes and wonder when my brain will finally let me get words on there. and because i am many more steps above my younger self in terms of writer brain, chloe's character confuses me to a curiously dog-shaped degree. i am conflicted. yes, her father died and max left her around that time, but would that justify or even make sense how she became the chloe in LiS? on the other hand, it makes sense. i have seen what happened to her happen to someone else. that gradual change, being stuck in the past whereas everyone has moved on, not having a support group, being infinitely lonely, falling into the deepest depths of the crevice of your brain... i understand; more so than the average LiS fan.

(if you're rory, my wife, stop reading from here, please <3 until we finish that watchalong)

i have always chalked chloe up as the sensitive type. she would never admit it, but i've always seen her as someone who is highly reactive to her environment. she took the death of her dad and max's departure disastrously, she was absolutely distraught when rachel was stabbed, she took rachel's death horribly, plus at any sign of "you will die" danger she immediately becomes rigid. i could just be unreactive, but this all seems to be signs of an environmentally sensitive individual—not to mention her general behavior when talking to max about the incident in the BtS DLC! i could just be misremembering that, though, so take that with a grain of salt. one could also interpret her being dependent on max���even before her dad's death—and later rachel. also she?? basically has hallucinations of her dad???? i guess???? why does nobody talk about that wtf

apologies, i went a little bit off-topic. my point in the last two paragraphs is that i am completely on the fence about chloe as a character. she is both liked and hated, and she is supposed to be a character we would be willing to sacrifice an entire town for. for some people, the bay vs bae option was obvious, whether it was because they hated chloe or adored her. here is the horrendous segue because i don't know how to connect this thought and the next.

i began to think: what if i were to rewrite life is strange and before the storm?

i'll give you some information and talking points on what i have currently (minus some bullet points i've omitted because they're not ready for the world) and you will tell me whether i should keep cooking or stop before i burn the building down.

BEFORE THE STORM

// change rachel's situation with her parents. make her justifiably hate her dad and make her go to her biological mother to tell the truth, i don't really get rachel's whole thing about her parents. it hurts to be lied to in general, but rose is the woman that raised you lil bro. i would get it if she were mistreated, but she wasn't. no reason to have the story based around that when it doesn't make sense, so let's switch it up. the easiest way to do this would be to make them abusive. make her think that things would be better if her bio mother stayed and/or if she met up with her (this would turn out wrong when they find out that she is an addict, and does a little bit of #manipulation.) not canon in the games, but making her biological mother a bad person would be very poetic. there could be an episode dedicated to chloe trying to pull rachel away from her bio mother because shes ass tm. and this transitions into my next idea...

// make chloe the "i can fix her" type, the residue of herself from before her father died. hell, make her character a bit different from the LiS 1 chloe! maybe have her be a combination of pre-william death chloe and post-william death chloe. this portion was initially "make it take place a year or two after william's death" but then i realized that it DOES take place approximately two years after. so, i'm changing this point to being "make it take place 6 months to a year after his death" so we can explore her character more. by the end of this, make chloe further traumatized. or at the very least, make all these events impact her so much that she ends up becoming the woman she is in LiS 1... of which some people in-game would describe her as "broken" or "irreversibly damaged" (i wrote this before learning that rachel's dad actually said this about her, by the way! jesus, man.) and make the thing longer than 3 damn episodes.

LIFE IS STRANGE

// make max and chloe parallel chloe and rachel, except their relationship gets less and less problematic as time goes on rachel's relationship with chloe is... certainly something. i don't have any strong opinions on amberprice, but what i DO know is that rachel is chloe's BIGGEST enabler and absolutely contributed to why she's like the way she is. she's like the devil on your shoulder saying "burn down that orphanage" except chloe doesn't have an angel on the other side. the thing that makes max different from chloe in BtS is that she is the "i can help her" type. all for therapy and shit. make them both go to therapy actually. perhaps even have a duo counseling scene where they air things out and finally forgive both themselves and each other. genuinely have no idea why therapy was never seriously included in any LiS game so far considering the kind of shit they go through.

and that is it! thank you for sitting through this hefty wall of text. i am infinitely sorry for yapping, but i'm just an autistic little lesbian who loves these dorky ass weirdos. i will not take any more of your time—this is where the post ends.

i was not eating those beans☹️

[stolen-stardust]

I was confused by your take on your recent post about the keffiyah tweet. (You don't need to "explain yourself" or anything so feel free to delete this if I'm just being dumb) To me they read like this: "I felt like my religious clothing might have made some jewish people uncomfortable. i made an effort to cut the tension and it worked." /"fuck zionists for waging this war and creating discomfort between people who actually have no problem with each other"

I can understand that posting about it could be seen as tacky, but I was wondering what reason you (and others agreeing with the post) had for seeing it as adjacent to a hateful sentiment.

Hi! I appreciate this ask. To put it simply - the tweet in question read, to me, like a person being uncomfortable just in the presence of a minority group (jewish people, in this instance) and acting like they were “good” for not being rude to them simply due to their discomfort? I’m unsure how best to explain it.

Other people related it to “a white woman who clutches her purse around Black people brags about the time she doesn’t, showing how anti-racist she is”. The OP in question had no right to assume this random Jewish family was going to attack or harass her. If her reading of the situation was accurate, both of the groups involved were just… Trying to mind their business. Her describing tension as being high certainly indicates to me that *she* was the one feeling stressed, to which I worry why being around visibly Jewish people would make her stress. That’s just… suspicious to me. OP isn’t even Palestinien or Muslim, to my knowledge, she’s just an ally.

Additionally, it seems like she assumes that nice Jews aren’t Zionists? Or assumes that because this mother smiled at her, she can’t be like Those People, hence the “Zionism is not Judaism” comment at the end. Again, that is a strange sweeping statement to make of an entire ethnoreligion/its people. As if there aren’t Israeli Jews actively fighting for Palestinien liberation right now, alongside Jewish Diaspora. I’ve seen posts on twitter claiming that “Jews need to wear watermelon pins/pro-palestinien symbols if they appear visibly Jewish so that we know they aren’t a Zionist”. Which is. Um. Certainly not a normal take to have when discussing Jews.

All this to say… People have gotten way too comfortable assuming all Jewish people are Zionists - especially violent Zionists - by default, or until proven otherwise. And apparently because of this assumption, they are to be feared and hated.

I hope this response made some sense. I’m never good at explaining things. As someone who’s made more of an effort in the past several months to follow anti/non-Zionist Jewish folk (including those living in Israel), I’ve seen how much variety there is in opinions, learned what sentiments OP express can lead to down the line. If you’d have shown me that tweet in December of last year I probably would’ve been entirely on OP’s side, but now, I fear it reads more as an all-too-comfortable profiling of a minority group, which can lead to some intense dehumanization as I’ve witnessed a lot of on twitter in the name of Palestinien allyship.

(Obligatory “I’m not Jewish” statement here. if any Jewish folk want to add their own two cents on it, or correct my thoughts on things, please feel free. Anyone who uses this post to attack/dehumanize/generalize Palestiniens is being blocked. You are not welcome here.)

[sugaroto]

Our teachers from the big city are still soo confused with the fact that we have prom

We were discussing about what everyone is gonna wear and of course some people are a little extra and the teachers are shocked like wow you'll wear what and the whole event is such a big thing and they're like 👁👄👁say what now

And someone was like "how do you do proms in Athens?"🤨

"We don't kids. The first time I saw this happening was last year when I came here."

Like, proms aren't a thing in Greece ajajsjs

I always knew that, but when I went to high school and saw proms happening I just accepted the fact, but we're really out of the norm here😭😂

The whole country: yeah we do normal school activities like reading boo-

My school in the middle of nowhere: hey yall free for a rehearsal of waltz tomorrow?

Also to clarify-cause this sounds expensive, it's not- I'm not going to a private school or something, and we do proms in order to save money for the school trip (πενταήμερη) our parents will pay the ticket in order to get in and sit around in the tables and watch all of us dance on stage while they eat while we also have a lottery thing going on and all of is will have fun at the event I guess

Also, the waltz/bachata/traditional(λαϊκά) dances aren't like provided by the school, we found teachers who supposedly were willing to teach us for free(but ended up asking for money anyway, but it's 5€ per kid so whatever...)And we do this in our free times in weekends or during breaks at school by ourselves, (the freshmen were kinda like the fuck? When we started dancing next to the volley field, But I think they got used to it by now)

[fightingthetides]

∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out . // ummmmmmm

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting||

A bit earlier than planned, but Ravein returned from a mission he’d been out on for a while. He’d been away for about a month, and he knew from communications that his buddies had also been off on missions of their own. He could feel the tension in the air, but the moment he stepped into base, all the hushed mutterings came to an abrupt start.

Not a pleasant way to be greeted as one could imagine. Unnerved, he starts looking around, attempting to find any context clues for him to go off of. He recognizes one person in the crowd, who stopped like a deer in headlights. If his memory serves him right, he had been on a mission with Haru last.

Making a direct bee-line for the man, who was actively trying to avoid him while also acting nonchalant (spoiler alert: it only made things all the more suspicious). Through the twisting hallways, the silent assassin notices the state that some of the hallways were in. In the back of his mind, he’s curious about who started a fight this time.

Ravein finally manages to corner the guy. Wordlessly, he stared at the man, not relenting until the man finally gives up. If there was one thing anyone knew about Ravein, was that he was stubborn and patient.

He had no qualms about following someone until they gave into his silent demands. “Alright! I give! She’s in confinement right now.”

A small head tilt in confusion. Haru had a temper and an attitude to match, but she was obedient compared to officers within the Varia who did as they pleased. The man hesitated for a few more seconds, “that friend of yours. Luca, you didn’t hear what happened to him yet… did you?”

The look of confusion and worry was all the other needed to see, “He was killed in action and the perps sent his body to base not long ago. She was the first one to see it.” As one could imagine, Haru would’ve gone insane from anger alone. Wanting vengeance was just another facet of her breadkdown.

He finally realizes that the reason the hallways were in such a state was because Haru would’ve put up a fight if others tried to stop her from going after the perps who killed Luca. She’d always joked that if anything ever happened to them, she’d hunt down the perps and then tunnel down to Hell herself to drag them back to Earth.

“When?”

“Huh? O-oh” it was rare for Ravein to speak with his actual voice, so he was taken aback, “Yesterday, we found out.” They were discussing how to keep this a secret from Ravein until the situation calmed itself. Ideally, he would’ve been away for at least another week. Alas, he efficiently finished his mission early, so they didn’t have the chance to hide the news from him.

The reticent assassin nods his head and walks away. He was surprisingly quite calm and collected about the news. It was like business as usual, where he went to his room, wrote up his report, and did whatever he normally does, read or work out alone.

When asked how he was holding up after losing his friend, he would shake his head and shrug his shoulders in response. Everyone else took that to mean, ‘it’s unfortunate, but that’s just how it is in the Varia. People die eventually.’ As it turned out, they didn’t have to worry about him—or so they thought.

When night fell, he snuck into the confinement room that Haru was kept in to force her to ‘cool her head,’ and he broke her out. Together, they left the base in search of the bastards that killed Luca. If Haru was the sort to express her emotions vocally and physically, Ravein was the sort who preferred to internalize everything and ‘speak’ through action. While working on his report, he had gone to research what mission Luca was on, and devise his plan of breaking Haru out and bringing her with him.

In retrospect, it was better that Haru had been the one that was confined first, as Ravein had the sense to break her out so they could go together. If he were the one to have found out first, he would’ve gone off the handle immediately like Haru had done.

After all, two assassins on the job is better than just one whose mind was clouded by anger and pain.

She’d never forgive him if he came back after getting revenge while leaving her behind. A few hours after the break in, an alarm that Haru had escaped her confinement cell was sounded off. It didn’t take long to realize that Ravein was missing as well.

No one was sent to go after the two because they knew full well that neither Haru or Ravein would hesitate to attack whoever got in their way. Haru, at the very least would attack to incapacitate, while Ravein wouldn’t hesitate to kill if it meant it could save a few precious seconds.

The Varia had already lost Luca, so they couldn’t afford to lose any more just to bring back two officers throwing a tantrum. “What kind of present do you think Luca would like? A hand? Maybe an ear? Hmm… maybe an eye is good.” Haru was thinking aloud as they were travelling according to the path Ravein had set for them.

It took a period of a week of them hunting and maiming anyone Ravein thought could’ve been the perpetrator behind killing Luca. Perhaps a few innocent lives were taken, but neither of them were willing to take any chances of letting the killer go scot-free. In their path a bloody trail of carnage, with some missing body parts as Haru was collecting them as ‘gifts’.

Once their personal mission of vengeance was complete, there was a sense of fulfillment and emptiness. What now? Doing this wouldn’t bring their Luca back, but it was a good way of venting their anger out on the ones responsible.

Haru and Ravein split ways after completing their personal mission to have some time to themselves. With Luca’s enemies dead, Haru could finally sit down and cry over the loss. Ravein, a person who rarely slept for long due to his constant bout of nightmares couldn’t sleep at all. It was the mere principle of being so caught up in his thoughts remembering Luca that his brain wouldn’t allow him to sleep.

Having a pictographic memory as he did, it made remembering Luca all the harder to process.

The two may have stayed out for longer before someone messaged them saying that if they stay out for too long, they may miss out on looking through Luca’s things to take before they’re disposed of. It didn’t take long for either of them to return to base to retrieve something to remember their friend by—and to also be punished for truancy.

Worth it, though.  

[atqh16]

Correct me if I’m wrong, I don’t remember if it happened in the novel but in both the comic and live action Jiang Cheng DID attack Lan Zhan and Wei Ying as they were leaving. Lan Zhan stops his first and second strike but Wen Ning stepped in when Jiang Cheng raised zidian for the third time and almost hit the duo since Wei Ying was incapacitated and Lan Zhan was occupied. Sure he regretted it almost immediately but like, what did you expect? You were aiming to hurt. Even if you expected them to defend themselves it was still stupid of you to do it in the first place and it just really goes back to how Jiang Cheng allows his emotions to control him regardless of the truth or consequence. It’s like a parent hitting their child in a moment of anger. Doesn’t matter if you regret it after. It’s still horrible of you for doing it anyway and it doesn’t turn back time for the damage done. Also yeah Wei Ying sort of started it but it’s only because Jiang Cheng has consistently continued to agitate him and verbally abuse and accuse him throughout the whole story (post time skip I mean) and it’s unfair to expect Wei Ying to just continue to take it lying down. ESPECIALLY when he started taking aim at Lan Zhan. Jiang Cheng was looking for a fight from the start. Most of us would not have had the same patience it took to not react for as long as Wei Ying did.

Jiang Cheng was acting like a bully the second we meet him again when Wei Ying comes back and that’s just…. Dismissed? Yeah he’s a victim but he’s also (if not more) part of the problem. Actively so. At some point self victimization is a thing and you can see that in how he refuses to accept any fault for what happened in the past and insists on blaming it all on other people. His lack of self awareness results in him perpetuating his own issues. Even worse all of this is such a huge discredit to the complexity of his character.

And disclaimer, I LIKE Jiang Cheng. He is such a well written character. But so many people are so protective of him that they consider any criticism as an attack?

So I definitely get why Wen Ning was furious enough at the time to make his words hurt and frankly I don’t really consider it out of line because I feel like it was the hard slap in the face that Jiang Cheng needed. It was below the belt but I don’t think it would have worked as well as it did otherwise. But I also have less sympathy for Jiang Cheng in regards to his insecurities because he does nothing to self reflect and heal from them over the last 13 years and even worse he allows those insecurities and his emotions to warp his perspective and hurt the people around him that do not deserve it. The way he treats Jin Ling is messed up and I hate that fans just sweep it under the rug. Your anger and hurt does not justify you treating an innocent child like shit and gaslighting him with lies just because of your own warped perception of the truth because you could not deal with it yourself. Like yeah he has moments of affection and he obviously cares about Jin Ling but that doesn’t reverse the damage of his other actions.

Like SO many of Jiang Chengs more messed up actions (like the fact that he took part in a genocide against the Wen remnants) just consistently gets swept away like it’s not a big deal? I don’t get it? Like you can like and be sympathetic towards a character whilst also have them take accountability for their actions.

Not attacking you or anything, just expanding the discussion and voicing out my frustrations cause the way I’ve seen people interact with Jiang Cheng is so genuinely confusing.

I don’t think Wen Ning told Jiang Cheng about the golden core because he wanted him to know he owed Wei Ying or any of the sort. Like a lot of people seem to think that and therefore conclude Wen Ning was out of line. But it’s more likely that he did it to give Jiang Cheng the wake up call he needed. Because he has lived for 13 years in denial of the truth in that Jiang Yan Li’s death was not Wei Yings fault and he himself had a hand in his brothers demise. It was meant to be a reminder to him of who Wei Ying actually is and the made version he has in his head is a perception that has been warped by his anger and grief. It’s meant to be a reminder of how much Wei Ying loved him. Jiang Chengs anger is understandable but it doesn’t justify him treating Wei Ying the way he did and putting all the blame on him without ever trying to comprehend the choices his brother made and why he made them.

[anothersebastianblog]

No offense an yes some of the fan sightings in nyc are from visitors. Other are from locals. Nyc fans are very active on Twitter

I have no doubt things declined recently but between more people hanging out in the places he goes to, fans that knows his usual places and non nyc fans that visit nyc with the hope of meeting him… indeed he is seen more there

—-

The people you are referencing to who “NYC fans” if it’s the same ones I follow, they are people who are temporarily living there or there for school or are visiting for a while and also trying to find him at the same time. I do not consider those New Yorkers. Those, to us, are still tourists. And they are stupidly creepy, and thankfully only a handful of them are even still around. But I don’t trust their non spotting at all. They’re just freaks.

But, please, people need to stop categorizing his nyc fans as the ones seaking him out because we don’t. And if we did see him we don’t acknowledge it. I know it sounds weird, especially in a fandom, but that’s New Yorker love right there. You wouldn’t get it until you are one. Trust me. ❤️

Like I said, the ones hanging out where he goes to are not the real New Yorkers and there aren’t many. Let’s stop with this he’s not in nyc because he hasn’t been spotted narrative because it is not reliable. It’s a 2020-2022 Deuxmoi-TFATWS era fans mentality.

About your last point, only reason I can think of for him being naturally spotted here in nyc more is actually by the occasional NON fan because here you walk more, you use public transportation, where in LA there isn’t much to do. It’s not a city like NYC. You drive. You stay inside buildings more. It’s just different.

He has a better chance of being spotted in NYC because chances of him walking around is greater and being seen by people, not because of “stalkers”. He has stalkers in every state and every country. LA fans run around Los Feliz constantly trying to find him, as well. They are the bad ones. But it’s harder because of what I said before. You drive there. You are in a house or building more.

If anything, real New Yorkers are the most respectable ones. Because we see and we go the other way. We don’t even approach or take photos. Don’t confuse fans who live in New York with fans who visit New York, are out of town for sometime, or the ocasional rando who happens to see him because he’s outdoor more.

But I will say again, I do think there’s been a misconception with how much he’s getting spotted now compared to during TFATWS era. He was more popular then among fan girls and with his Pam and Tommy stuff. His hype has died down a bit, and even if he were to be seen now I don’t think it would be as mentioned as it was during 2020-2022 when Deuxmoi also became more popular. Know what I mean?

I think his spottings has reverted slightly to when he was famous 2014-2019. Just because it’s only sometimes mentioned he’s seen somewhere it doesn’t mean he’s only been at those places, I think. That’s just my two cents on the full thing. Sorry about the rant by the way. We New Yorkers don’t like this misconception about us. It pisses us off.

LA fans and Atlanta fans are 1000000x more chance of stalkerish attitude and caring about chasing him down. Which is why I never understood the rooting for him to “lay low” there. There, people will find the house address and wait outside the house. The have NO shame. Tourists also have less interest to visit there than NYC. It’s a bit boring lol. It’s just talked about less.

Maybe you’re not from the US so hopefully this makes more sense. 😊

Posting this because it is long i guess it took you time writing it so i would feel bad not posting it. It’s more like a love letter to a city than a real reply to the topic we are discussing.

And yes, ny fans have a reputation and i am sorry about that. I love NYC and i love he considers himself a new yorker and has been living there since his first day in the us. That being said you guys should take it personal when people say fans in ny are able to spot him easily because the reasons are a lot, not just stalker behaviour! Of course not all of you are stalkers!!! But some people that visit ny/study there/lives there (i am sorry i will still consider the last two as a single category) knows his places, it’s a fact. And this added to the fact that you go by public transportation in more crowded places makes ny the place he is spotted more (indeed no spottings doesn’t mean he is not in ny, I didn’t know this had to be said!).

He is spotted in LA sometimes yes, when he goes to popular restaurants or museums etc and i am sure stalkish fans are everywhere, probably even in the smallest state ever. But he is spotted less because, thanks to how the city is, he can lay lower.

So don’t take this personally. As i said it’s a mixture of things.

Adding this other asks to my reply just to show another opinion because i have seen these tweets and i saw videos just less than two years ago of people chasing him, it’s nobody’s fault if it happens more in nyc, as you said, it’s more popular.

[ultimatesunset]

Short Story: My album 'Getting Older' is nominated for a Music PEI 2022 award, 'Downtown Charlottetown Pop Recording of the Year', which is flattering. The category is filled with other artists I genuinely enjoy and respect. Not quite as short story: I believe I enjoy writing music, but sometimes it can be hard to tell from how frustrated it can feel at times! Which seems silly. I had a friend recently remind me that I (we) don't have that many people actively listening to my (our) music, and that can be quite liberating to remember; I can explore new feelings and vibes and sounds and emotions within my music, because why? WHY NOT. That said, a big part of what I enjoy about music is the response. The immediate reaction at a live show, or hearing about how a song may have resonated with someone, etc. That likely has to do with my insatiable ego, but I'd like to believe that part of it is because I find songwriting/performing to be a different form of connection than a routine conversation can allow. That said, as I age I find I'm not playing as much, either from moving around or being an old guy or other issues. As well, I find it hard to ask people to listen to my music. After over a decade, the novelty of asking my friends for their thoughts has likely worn off for them. And yet these songs still grow and change for me, and mean various things for me as time moves. My song "Origami", from 'Getting Older', is one of the most meaningful song that I've written so far, and it's one of the least streamed songs in my catalogue. I wrote the lyrics after being inspired by Ken Liu's short story "the paper menagerie", and many months later finished the song in a burst. I'm proud of the slow-ass guitar solo.  I'm proud of the near whispered vocal delivery. It's written from the perspective of a dead mother regretting a lack of communication with her son. It made Maureen cry when I showed her a rough mix when she was pregnant. I showed a family member that song after we fought last month. It means more to me as time goes on. But it feels odd when 'Origami' and other songs do not 'perform well' on streaming platforms, it's like they were only for me in the first place? I've been in a bit of a writing funk over the past year and a half, and just in the past month or so I've been getting a form of groove back. The material I'm working on is slightly more abstract than what I've created before (maybe?) but I'm enjoying where it is leading, currently. And I want to enjoy that process. If there is a scale of "who is this song for?", on one end there is Audience and the other is Self. Currently I'm allowing the scale to slide closer to self. Ok, so what is my point? I'm not entirely sure myself, except that the relationship  between the act of creating, the act of recreating, and the outside 'commercial' element of art/music/creation is complex and mysterious and confusing. The audience is definitely a part of that relationship and it's hard feeling like my relationship with an audience is distant & difficult to read. Like a chef wanting feedback on their new dish, so do I crave some form of discussion or response about the work. Which, I realize, sounds entirely narcissistic. Which leads me to this: I appreciate being nominated for Pop Recording of the Year by Music PEI. Not because I feel the album deserves an award, but because it helps me feel like I actually made something that exists in the world. I'm among fantastic company that I genuinely enjoy. What a nice way to start this week, the very day I return to work after parental leave.

[britneyshakespeare]

6, 8, and 10 for the ask game ❤️

Funny enough, these were three of my favorite questions in the prompt :^) good taste anon

What is your favourite part about being aromantic?

The best and worst things about being aro kind of go hand-in-hand in my experience. You're unique! But no one understands you. You defy expectations! But you never fit in with other people. You can be all alone! You're all alone. Etc. etc.

But yes, the uniqueness of it is what makes me feel comforted, especially when I put my feelings out there and other people actually understand them. Which is mostly just other aros, but still, other aromantic people are awesome. We learn so much from each other. I genuinely do feel closer to people when they tell me that they're aro and/or ace or even that they've questioned (or are questioning) that in themselves because it's like, phew. Someone who has a bit of experience in my shoes, even if we still ultimately come about it differently.

But as a creative writer, being aromantic fucking rocks. Fuck amatonormativity. Soooo much literature is amatonormativity. Especially poetry, and I know that intimately well as a goddamn poetess! I've gone on this rant before but being an aromantic poet is kind of inherently rebellious to me. I love writing about my aromanticism. Often I come to it since it's been a topic of confliction and confusion in me more than pride, but the pride comes in looking what I've done. And the creative product of an aromantic person reflecting on their experiences is always going to be subversive and interesting to me.

Do you associate anything with being ‘aromantic culture’?

I guess this kind of relates to the last question, in that, yeah, I think my poetry is pretty Aromantic Culture™ if that is a thing. Well I mean, it probably is a thing, but I'm not the moooost involved in aro or ace-spec circles online? I used to be more active in them, although never too immersed because back when I would go to blogs and pages and all that to feel affirmed, I didn't wanna be chased by the exclusionists since that was the height of Tumblr ace discourse.

And nowadays I'm just not as online as I used to be. Sometimes I see posts from other aros coming on my dash that reference an inter-community discourse that I'm just not aware of and not necessarily interested in forming a stance on? I could name examples but I kinda don't want to since I don't wanna offend anyone or invite those discussions I'm admittedly ignorant of to begin with.

I guess certain spaces on the internet are just aromantic culture to me. I don't overly personalize the things I like to be aro (unless I make them of course). Perhaps certain works of art that other people make, particularly other women when they're defying heteronormativity. For me my identity as a woman is inseparable from my aromantic experience but I also feel like... well, a shit ton of the aro people *I know* (I don't know the hard numbers on this, if there are even surveys) are nonbinary, so. My aro culture doesn't speak for everyone. Idk. This is a fascinating question and I feel like I could get lost in a million tangents about just what it means to be this or that thing. I guess aro culture to me bleeds everywhere but never shows itself solidly. We're all aro in an amatonormative culture, aren't we?

How long have you known you are aro?

Six years, as a matter of fact. Around the time I started my senior year of high school and I was overall in a very bad place, feeling how transitory my current life was but not being able to see anything in the future. It also felt like a lot had been behind me since, well, when you're 17, you're not grown up for sure but you really don't feel like a kid anymore either. I reflected on a lot of my "romantic" experiences and how I came out of them, and some things just didn't add up anymore like I thought they once did.

Sometimes I still have internal doubts because I'm like "am I really aro if—" (you know how it is) but I've always kind of known since I first accepted it that there's really nothing else I *could* be, in this lifetime anyway. But yeah, even as I have known for a relatively long time now (I just realized that's most of the time I've had this blog lol) I think my feelings about my aro identity have moved around a lot. Life experience certainly is something that happens and happens even more to you when you age beyond high school, and I am not perceived or treated in anything like I was back then.

I know I already answered that question with the first paragraph, but I just had to elaborate, because of course I would. :^)

send me aromantic asks

[loving-bucky-is-easier]

deliverance

leave what's heavy, what's heavy behind • two

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary:

Almost three months to the day since you’d woken up in the med bay with his hands wrapped around yours, since you’d finished your first kiss in a hospital bed and he’d stayed with you until Helen shooed him away. Almost three months of dating Bucky Barnes, which was lovely and confusing, because how many couples got together because of an accidental confession of love mid-argument post-torture in a terrorist facility?

Warnings: 18+, smut, a certain promised shower 😏, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people), mild violence, discussion of previous violence and injury, PTSD, panic attack, me making up rules for the cradle and hoping they’re close to right, angst, fluff

Minors--this is not for you. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please be discerning. Do not interact.

A/N: I was blown away by the response to deadweight--y’all are the sweetest. This is the fluffier and smuttier sequel; still quite a bit of angst, because I can’t not, but a happy ending, because I can’t not do that either. You may be able to enjoy this fic independently, but I think the payoff is much better if you know what they’ve been through to get here. Feedback is welcome and appreciated--comment, message, or send me an ask! Tags are at the bottom.

Edit: This reader is white-coded in both this piece and it's predecessor, in that she blushes pink or red when flustered or embarrassed. This trait is mentioned multiple times by both the reader and other characters. This was an oversight on my part when writing, and I've done my best to ensure that all fics written since have avoided traits like this.

read deadweight

“Really? You’re not messing with me?”

“No, Y/N,” Helen smiled, although it looked a bit more like a smirk. “I am not messing with you. The cast can come off today, and then you are cleared for active duty, as well as whatever...extra-curricular activities you may be interested in pursuing.”

There was that familiar pink blush again. You had seen a lot of it in the past three months. A certain super soldier found it to be very endearing, which only deepened the pink to a nice tomato red.

“We haven't done anything,” you protested, trying to cross your arms over your chest, but struggling with the bulkiness of the cast. Of course, the damn thing would have one last laugh before it finally came off.

“Right,” Helen teased, eyes narrowing.

“I’m serious,” you insisted. Then, grumbling under your breath: “He’s been really fucking annoying about it.”

Helen laughed. “Well, at least one of you can follow instructions, although I wouldn’t have guessed it would be James Barnes.”

You wouldn’t have guessed that either.

.....

“You’re not serious.” You were perched next to Bucky on the edge of his bed. Cheeks flushed, chest heaving, shock written clearly on your face. A kiss that was definitely moving towards something more having been swiftly interrupted.

“Doll, please don’t make this harder.” He was panting too.

“That’s what she said.”

“That’s what who said?”

“I...never mind. But really...you’re serious?”

“Y/N, Helen specifically said--”

“Screw what Helen said! It’s been a month! That’s long enough!”

“No, Y/N. Please believe how much I want this. I want you. God, I want you. But...fuck, Y/N, you still have the cast.”

“I can work around that.”

“I’m sure we could,” he chuckled. “But I’m not putting your recovery in jeopardy to fuck you, as much as I may want to. Not when we’ve been given explicit instructions not to.”

“I’m not going to break! I’m fine. The cradle--”

“Doesn’t fix everything,” Bucky cut in gently. “It doesn’t fuse bones back together, although knowing Helen, I’m sure that’s coming soon. Your body needs time. And you, my love, are worth the wait.”

You sighed, heart rate finally fluttering back under control, and you leaned into his chest, arms threading around his waist. “You’re worth the wait, too,” you grumbled.

“Such conviction,” he teased, jabbing lightly at your side, and you giggled.

“I never figured James Barnes for a rule follower. Always thought that was Steve.”

“First of all,” Bucky spoke so sharply it made you jump, “Steven Grant Rogers is not a fucking rule follower. He’s a dumbass vigilante with good branding. Second...” He pulled away enough to meet your eye, voice softening. “I follow the rules that keep the people I love safe.”

You huffed. How could you object to that?

“Besides,” he continued, a wicked grin forming on his face, “I believe I was promised a shower, and we can’t really do that with a cast.”

.....

Bucky had been true to his word. Almost three months to the day since you’d woken up in the med bay with his hands wrapped around yours, since you’d finished your first kiss in a hospital bed and he’d stayed with you until Helen shooed him away. Almost three months of dating Bucky Barnes, which was lovely and confusing, because how many couples got together because of an accidental confession of love mid-argument post-torture in a terrorist facility? 

Almost three months of wonderfully normal dates. Walks around Brooklyn: a record store, a coffee shop, a farmer’s market. Dinner and a movie, because Bucky was a classic. A concert that you left early because you could see the crowds and the jostling getting to him, exchanged for a dance on the roof of the compound, the playlist you’d made for him a lifetime ago humming through the speakers.

Almost three months of figuring each other out, learning the details, although those honestly felt trivial when compared to the understanding you had after that ill-fated mission. But they were a joy to learn nonetheless, each insight adding a new thread into the life you were weaving together. How Bucky took his coffee--no cream, two sugars. The scar on your knee from falling during a theatre production in high school. The song his sister used to play on the piano any chance she got, because it was the only one she knew. Your favorite flower: a lotus, although you didn’t mention that but once, because they were hard to find for bouquets and you didn’t want him to go to the trouble.

He bought you a necklace with a lotus stamped into the pendant for your birthday, and you hadn’t taken it off yet.

Almost three months of dating this man, and you were dying. Figuratively, of course, but dying all the same.

Dying because in-a-relationship Bucky was a whole new Bucky, and you couldn’t get enough. Flirty comments. Playful touches at any chance he got—God, this man needed more positive physical touch in his life. And compliment after compliment after compliment that turned your face into a blushing mess.

“I think the shade of pink your face turns might be my new favorite color,” he’d said once. What the hell were you supposed to do with that?

Dying because you didn’t think you could love Bucky more, but every new little thing you noticed about him made you fall even further. The playlist you’d made him was on when he drove. When he read. When he showered. And good Lord, he sang in the shower. A little out of tune, but gorgeous nonetheless. Maybe he just didn’t know how to make a new playlist, but your smile practically touched your ears every time you heard it.

And in those rare moments where you got him flustered, he fidgeted with his hair, tucking it behind his ears, then ruffling it back forwards. Fuck, it was endearing.

Dying because Bucky had asked that the two of you keep your own rooms until you had fully healed—“I just don’t think I could keep my hands off you, doll”—and you were sleeping alone. Sleep was...challenging to say the least, after everything that had happened in that cement room, and you knew it was hard for him too, that it had always been. You wanted so badly to hold him through his nightmares and for him to hold you through yours, to fight off each other’s demons. But Bucky had set boundaries, and dammit, you were determined to respect them.

Dying because every kiss tasted like more and sparked a heat pooling in your stomach, and even if he wasn’t calling you the love of his life and sweeping you off your feet, which he was, he was a sight to behold. 

Okay, maybe you weren’t dying. You had experienced something close to that, and this certainly wasn’t it.

But it still took every measure of your self-control not to sprint out of the med bay the second your cast was off, and you took the stairs two at a time to the gym, where you knew he would be finishing up a sparring session with Sam.

You paused for a moment outside the door, trying to control your breathing, but to no avail. You tucked your left arm behind your back and pushed into the room, only to collide directly with a wall of muscle.

Bucky caught you with ease, sweeping you into a dip and capturing your lips in his like a pose out of a movie. Your heart fluttered, and you vaguely registered Sam nearby groaning at the two of you to get a room. 

If you insist, Sam.

Bucky drew back. “Hi, doll,” he grinned. His steel blue eyes full of affection, his face glistening from his workout. Fuck, you were so ready for this. He leaned in again, but you pressed a finger to his lips. 

“Buck.” You scrunched your nose. “You need a shower.”

Mild frustration twisted his features. “Geez, doll,” he grumbled, setting you back on your feet. “Way to kill the mood.”

You grinned. “No, Buck,” you whispered, raising your left arm and wiggling your fingers teasingly. “You need a shower.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed for a split second as his eyes flicked from yours to your recently liberated appendage. Realization hit, and his pupils dilated, stormy blue almost eclipsed by inky black. “You’re cleared?” he breathed, his voice lower than you’d ever heard it.

You couldn’t contain your smile as you nodded.

“Sorry, Sam,” Bucky said evenly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Raincheck on that cool down. I have something better to do. Or rather, someone.” He grabbed your hand and nearly dragged you out after him. You giggled as you turned back to wave at Sam, who was rolling his eyes, a smirk plastered on his face.

“Have fun!” he called.

If you insist.

Bucky didn’t let go of your hand until the elevator doors closed. He was silent as he pressed the button for his floor, and you couldn’t help but notice him fidgeting with his hair. Was he reconsidering?

“Bucky, if you aren’t rea--”

“You’re sure you want this?”

Your jaw dropped. “Bucky, I’ve wanted this since we got back. Before that, even. Of course I want this.”

“Okay, it’s just--I don’t want you to feel obligated. I don’t expect you to honor a stupid deal you made on your deathbed.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, a teasing smile on your lips. “Excuse me, Sergeant Barnes. I take my deathbed deals very seriously, and I hope you intend to live up to your end of the bargain, or--” The rest of that threat died in your throat, cut off by Bucky’s lips on yours. His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you to him, as he peppered kisses from the trace of the scar on your forehead, down your jaw and onto your neck.

“Bucky,” you giggled, his scruff tickling your neck. “Bucky--oh--” He nipped at the pulse point on your throat. “There--there’s a camera in here.”

“I don’t care,” he growled, his metal fingers teasing through your hair. “We’ve waited long enough.”

Damn right.

His lips found their way back to yours and his tongue pressed in. You sighed against him, and his hands slid down to the backs of your thighs, prompting you up. You gladly obliged, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

The kiss didn’t break as he carried you through the opening elevator door and down the hall, hands firmly planted on your ass. It didn’t break as he fumbled with his door behind you, your back pressing against the surface until it finally gave way. It didn’t break as he shouldered into the bathroom and perched you on the counter. It didn’t break until you couldn’t breathe and you finally pulled away panting, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Ah,” Bucky heaved. “So there’s more than one way to see my favorite color.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, fingers fumbling at the hem on his shirt. You slid it up over his head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. One look at the man before you, and the warmth that was tensing in your stomach clenched tighter. Bucky was an Adonis—glistening and carved chest and stomach, a v-shape disappearing into the stripe of his boxers that peeked out over the top of his sweats. Jaw tensed. Flyaways disturbed by the shirt sliding over his head framing his face like a halo. Metal arm glinting in the light. You wondered what those fingers would feel like inside you. As chance would have it, you wouldn’t have to wonder long.

He slid your own shirt off, and you rued even that split second your vision of him was obscured by fabric. You started to reach for his sweats, to free him of those, too, but he caught your hands in his.

“Let me take care of you first,” he breathed. If you had been standing, your knees would have buckled.

Bucky eased you back further on the counter, and you leaned against the mirror, raising your hips up to push your leggings and panties down. He slid them the rest of the way off your legs, and you were left panting on the counter. Bare to him except your bra, knees fighting to press together in self-doubt.

One look into his eyes and that dissipated. “So fucking beautiful,” he growled. “Fuck, Y/N, I already knew you were perfect, but somehow you’ve passed that too.” He planted his hands on your knees and eased them apart further.

“Can I—”

“Fuck, yes.” Bucky was between your legs in a split second.

You gasped as his tongue licked a stripe straight up your core before stopping to circle at your clit. Fingers teased at the edges of your inner thighs, the discrepancy in their temperature sending a delicious muddle of sensations arching through you.

“You’re so wet for me, doll,” he panted, brushing his thumb around that sensitive bundle of nerves in slow, teasing loops.

“Well, you had me waiting for three mon—ha—” Your toes curled as his lips wrapped around your clit again and sucked, and one of the fingers on his right hand teased at your entrance. He ran it gently along the folds for a moment, skimming through the slick, sending little tingles coursing through you that were nowhere near enough, until finally, he eased it in. Your eyes fluttered and your head arched back at the feeling of his finger pumping inside you, joined quickly by a second. His warm tongue still teasing at your clit.

“More,” you started to plead, and then his fingers curled, brushing over that spot, and you saw stars. He pumped them a few more times, each curl drawing something between a pant and a moan from you, before sliding them out. You missed them immediately, but were almost sated by the sight of Bucky drawing himself back up to his full height and sucking his fingers clean.

He leaned back over you, a teasing grin on his face, pressing a kiss to the lotus pendant laying on your chest, lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat, and you started to protest, wanting more—

A shiver that racked your entire body coursed up your spine as a very cold silver finger drew lazy strokes around the edges of your folds.

“Bucky,” you whined. Your hands gripped at the edge of the counter so hard you thought you might crack the stone.

“Yes, doll?” he asked innocently. “What is it you want?”

“Buck,” you breathed. Those lazy circles dipped closer to your core, so cold, still not enough. “Buck, please.”

“Words, sweetheart.” Fuck.

“Please,” you panted. “I need more.”

Those words weren’t really much clearer, but Bucky was too impatient to hold out much longer. Two cold silver fingers pressed into you, curling like their softer predecessors had, and it was all you could do not to come undone.

“Doll, you look so pretty like this,” he breathed, pumping those damn metal fingers over and over again, a galaxy of stars exploding in your brain.

He dipped back down to your clit, tongue latching onto it again, and you fell over the edge. Entire body tensing like a fist, core clenching around unyielding metal. Chest heaving, sweat dripping down your back. And then release, the release you’d been craving for three damn months.

“Now, who needs a shower?” he teased, pulling his hand away. You sat up, trying to compose a smirk on your face.

“Oh, I hope you don’t think we’re done yet, Sergeant.” You pushed yourself up off the counter, a bit weak in the knees, but definitely ready for more.

You pushed past him without a glance, opening the glass door of the shower and turning it on. The thrumming of the water wasn’t loud enough to drown out the pants of anticipation coming from the man behind you. Still not bothering to look at him, you reached back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Finally, you spun to face him, silver pendant swinging to slap against your bare chest, as you backed slowly into the shower, a teasing grin on your face.

“Fuck, doll. Look at you,” he groaned. And look at you, he did. Eyes scanning hungrily down your naked form, now glistening with the spray of the shower head. A muddle of love and desire painted across his face like a damn masterpiece.

His sweats and boxers hit the floor, and you almost did too. Holy fuck.

He was on you in a second, shower door slamming behind him, pressing you against the cold tile, his hands sliding up your ribs and cupping under your breasts. His lips wrapped around one of your nipples as metal fingers teased at the other. Your arms flailed a bit, knocking shampoo bottles to the floor, and you had to grab onto his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Delicious conflict as the nerves on your chest received both hot, wet kisses and cold, unyielding flicks and strokes.

Your feet skimmed along the tile, searching for traction, for leverage, and finding none. Your fingers threaded up into dark, damp hair, and you pulled him back, gasping as his mouth left your breast.

“Bucky,” you whined. “Need you...” You could hardly breathe, the steam of the shower flooding your lungs. “Need you inside me.”

Bucky grinned, planting both hands on either side of your head, caging you in between his arms, mismatched but both perfect. His lips brushed against your ear, and he chuckled. “God, I’ve been waiting for this.”

He wrapped his right hand around your thigh, hiking your leg up to wrap around his hip, and then his tip was teasing at your entrance, probing at the slick folds. You pressed your heel into the small of his back, spurring him forward, and he obliged. Slowly, achingly sliding in. So patient, allowing you to adjust.

“Bucky?”

“Hmmm?”

“Would you stop being so damn gentle and fuck me?”

He laughed, and the sound made your walls clench around him. The laugh dissolved into a groan. “Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

He thrust the rest of the way into you, and the stars were back, spinning and dancing—fuck, they may as well have been doing an Irish jig—as he pressed in again and again, hips slamming into yours. Your hands were back on his shoulders, fingers raking down his back hard enough to leave marks. You wondered absentmindedly if you looked as good through the glass door as you felt. You were sure Bucky did.

The air was thick with steam and sex and moans and heavy breaths. Your whole world was the glimmer of steel blue flickering behind dark lashes as he gasped and panted and railed you against the shower wall, three months of a promise in the making, and even longer of mutual desire the two of you had been too damn blind to see. God, did you have lost time to make up for.

And then those metal fingers were on your clit, snaking between warm bodies, and that lost time lost all meaning. You tumbled over the edge with a breathy cry, and Bucky chased right after, spilling warmth into you and down your legs to join the sweat and the steam.

Nothing was said for a moment as you both came down, heavy breaths and pounding water filling the silence.

“That was...” you panted as he slid out of you. Fucking hot. Incredible. Better than I’ve ever had.

“So damn worth the wait,” he teased, earning a shove to his shoulder. But Bucky was immovable, and the resistance knocked you off balance, your feet sliding out from under you.

Perfect arms caught you right before your head smacked against the wall, pulling you back in. Your chest pressed against his, and you could feel his heart racing beneath the muscle, flying just as fast as your own. You pulled him down just enough, rising on tiptoes to press soft kisses to the scars on his shoulder.

Bucky moaned. “Hold on doll,” he pleaded. “I have no intention of waiting that long ever again, but maybe round two should be somewhere a bit less slippery. A bed, maybe?”

You pulled away to find a grin matching your own. “This better be the fastest damn shower you’ve ever taken, Sergeant.”

.....

“You want to what?”

Bucky sighed. “Take you out, doll.”

“Like on a date?”

“Well I’d rather not assassinate you, so...” She jabbed at his ribs, but winced at the impact on her unprotected nail bed. He grabbed at her hand. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, doll. You're not gonna heal if you keep trying to beat me up.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Right,” he half-teased, looking her over for what was probably the millionth time. The cradle had worked wonders for Y/N, but she was only two days out of the med bay, and it showed. A cast on her left arm, paired with a sling, and some sort of metal brace that wrapped around her left hip that she was supposed to keep on for the next week. Dapples of green, the last remnants of bruises, painting a sickly cast over her, despite the warmth in her cheeks. Three missing fingernails on her right hand, promised to grow back in the next sixth months. 

And then there were the scars.

The cradle was a masterpiece of innovation, seemingly miraculous in its ability to generate tissue and knit wounds back together, as it had done with the numerous ruptures hidden beneath the surface of Y/N’s body. But it didn’t do so without leaving trace. 

Dozens of reminders of the cement room and the explosion before it littered her body, patches and stripes of skin shinier than the rest. Small nondescript nicks with no particular memory attached, paired with a handful that made Bucky’s blood run cold if he let himself remember the screams that came with them. A slice across her forehead. A ring around her wrist. A quarter-sized circle on her collarbone.

“Hey. Buck. You with me? You were trying to ask me something?” 

Bucky flinched, drawn back to the woman before him. “Yes. Right. I did ask you. But I want to take you out on a date.”

“Bucky.” She shook her head helplessly. “First of all, look at me. I’m not exactly date material right now.” He started to protest, and she held up a hand to silence him. “Second, I feel like we’re a little bit past the whole first date thing, given, you know...everything.”

“Y/N. First of all,” he threw back at her, “you are never not date material. I never want to hear you say anything resembling that ever again.” It was her turn to protest, but he didn’t let her get a word in either. “Second! Who gives a fuck if we go a bit out of order? I’m going to treat my girl right, and I want to take her out on a proper date.”

“A bit out of order?” she teased.

“Fuck you.”

Her smile nearly split her face in two. “Fuck me, yourself,” she giggled.

He fidgeted with his hair a bit, but he wasn’t able to resist drawing that blush onto her cheeks. “Oh, trust me, doll. I will. Later.”

The blush reached her ears this time. So fucking adorable. “But first,” he continued, “a date. We can at least get that right.”

She paused, as though contemplating, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Music. Mission. Shit hitting the fan. Confession of love via screaming match. Near-death experience. Love confession again, mutually. Making out. A date--”

“Hopefully more than one,” Bucky interjected ruefully.

“Multiple dates,” she corrected. “And then...later.” She winked. “Sounds like a reasonable arrangement to me.”

.....

The shock from sleep into the waking world was normally a welcome one for Bucky, pulling him from a haunted reality into slightly brighter one. But Bucky fought it this time, clinging to the dregs of a dream where a beautiful girl had her arms wrapped around his neck, swaying in the chill air. The fading strains of music lingered in his ears, but they were cut off sharply by a low whine.

Bucky was accustomed to waking up to sounds of anguish, but they were normally his own. Instead, his eyes shot open, adjusting quickly to the darkness. He was tangled in the sheets of his own bed, a reminder of the round two that he had promised Y/N, and the round three that had followed, before the pair had fallen asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

Now, though, Y/N was tensed at the far edge of the bed. Eyes scrunched shut, face contorted with pain, flinching away from an unseen attacker.

“No,” she pleaded. “No, n—” Bucky’s heart nearly stopped as a shattered scream ripped from her throat, and for a moment he was back in that fucking cement room, trapped behind crisscrossing metal as the woman he loved writhed in metal restraints, under the hand of the man with the brown eyes all over again.

But a broken “Please, please” from her lips drew him back. She needed him here.

“Y/N,” he pleaded, a hand reaching hesitantly towards her. He didn’t want to startle her, but he knew from experience that the shock was worlds better than the reliving.

“Y/N, you’re okay, doll. I’m right here.” He eased closer to her trembling form.

“You’re safe, love.” He had hardly brushed his fingers across her shoulder before she bolted upright, and Bucky vaguely registered a stinging on his cheek.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic as she scrambled away from him, feet tangling in the sheets. She nearly pitched off the side of the bed, but he caught her by the arm and eased her away from the edge before backing off immediately.

Her chest was heaving, eyes darting around the room, waiting for more attacks that he wanted to promise would never come.

“Y/N,” he whispered lowly, “you’re safe. We’re at the compound. You’re okay.” Palms out in surrender, reaching slowly towards her.

“Y/N, he’s gone. He can’t hurt you ever again. It was a dream, love. I know it felt real. Trust me, I know. But you’re safe.” His hand landed lightly on her clenched fist, and she flinched, but didn’t recoil.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” She nodded absently, but her eyes were distant. Still in that fucking room.

“Y/N, honey. Come back to me, doll.” His voice was thick with tears, but he choked them down, steadying his breath. He pulled her hand gently to him, resting it on his chest, her fingers still locked in a fist.

Bring her back.

Bucky cleared his throat, searching for words, any words, and landing on the fading remnants of his dream. “Do you remember our fourth date?” No answer.

No questions. Don’t ask questions. Just talk.

“I think it was my favorite one. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of our dates. But this one was special.” He felt her fingers soften, just barely. “We went to this shitty concert down in Queens. That was our first mistake, I think. Going to Queens.”

Y/N didn’t smile, but her eyes flicked to his for just a second before flitting away again.

Keep going.

“The venue was gross. The music was bad, although I think you liked it anyway. I can’t even remember the guy’s name. And there were so many fucking people there.” The fist relaxed into a palm pressed hesitantly against his chest. “I made it through four songs before you told me you wanted to leave. I didn’t really believe you. You had been dancing and singing along and it was so damn cute. But you knew that it was too much for me. Too loud. Too full. Too many people bumping into me.”

Her eyes seemed to slide a bit more into focus, fixated on the hollow of his throat. He pressed on with his story: “You dragged me out of there without a second thought, and I knew all over again that I was a goner for you. We went up to the roof of the compound, and put that playlist on for the zillionth time, and we just swayed under the stars.”

Y/N startled to tremble, her hand fidgeting on his chest. 

Almost.

“I held you, listening to the same song that I fell in love with you to, and you were the only thing in the world. You still are. The only thing that matters, anyway.”

And then she broke. Choked sobs racked her body, and her eyes locked on his for a moment before she collapsed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, hands coming to rest on her back and in her hair.

“It’s okay, honey,” Bucky soothed. “I’ve got you. You’re safe. You’re okay.” She heaved against him, choking breaths coming too fast. “Breathe, Y/N. You have to breathe, doll. Try to match mine. You’re okay.” Tears streamed down his own cheeks as he held her close, feeling her breath slowly return to something resembling normal.

When she had been quiet for a little while, he cleared his throat. “Y/N. How long have these been happening?” There was no way that had been the first.

She didn’t answer, and Bucky’s heart sank. “Has it been the whole time?” he asked helplessly. She tensed against him, before nodding very slowly.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks and into her hair, “why didn’t you say anything?”

She pulled away, eyes fixing on her hands in her lap. “I—I didn’t want you to worry, and I know sleep is already so hard for you, and you were set—setting boundaries...I wanted to respect that.”

“Doll, you still have to speak up if shit like this is happening,” he said gently. “I appreciate you wanting to respect boundaries, really. But this is so much more complicated, and the solution is not for you to shoulder through it by yourself.”

He paused, a debate raging in his head. Screw it. Let’s get this all out there. “Doll, I didn’t ask you to stay in your room because I didn’t think we could handle it. Granted,” he smiled ruefully, “you are fucking hot and I’m amazed I survived these three months. But the truth is that before you were released from the med bay...and for a while after...I saw you...and heard you...in that room. Every time I closed my eyes.” She still wasn’t looking at him, but her eyes welled up with tears again.

“You didn’t say anything,” he continued. “I thought you were doing okay, although I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how. I was a wreck. But when they let you go back to a normal room, I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want you to see me like that, or to have to remember anything because of me.”

Eyes still downcast, she snaked a hand into his own and pulled it into her lap, her thumb running small circles over the back of his hand. His eyes fixed on the invisible loop she drew over and over again.

“I thought that your time to recover physically would be enough. And for me, it was. Mostly. Because those nightmares have been all but replaced by everything that’s happened in the last three months. They’re not gone entirely, and it probably would have been a hell of a lot easier to wake up from them and see you safe beside me. But I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Silence for a moment, and then: “I guess you’re just a self-sacrificing dumbass, then,” she whispered. Bucky looked up to see a sad smile on her face, and he matched it.

“This coming from the woman who told me to abandon her in a Hydra compound. Like...four times.” Her eyes fell again.

He grimaced. “Y/N...this is something we need to sort through together. I know that’s not really either of our thing, but...”

She nodded. Tears spilled over again as she whispered, “Buck, does it...does it get easier?”

His heart broke. “Oh, sweetheart.” He pulled her hand up and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “So much better. It’s not linear, ever. There will be days when it feels like you’re starting all over again. But so much better, love. You didn’t know me when I first got here. Even if you’d been here you wouldn’t know me, because I was a shell of anything that I’d ever been.” He paused. “I’m not the man I was before the war either. I don’t think I’ll ever be. But that’s not the goal, is it?”

Bucky ran a thumb along her jaw, gently pulling her gaze to his. “I love you in the broken and the better. In the version that’s here today, and the one that was there yesterday, and the one that’ll be here when we’re old and grey and you’re still telling me to ‘fuck me, yourself.’ Although I suppose I’ve already accomplished the old part.” She giggled, and Bucky felt his whole body exhale at the sound.

She stopped when her eyes fell on his cheek. Three thin lines, already clotted over, but lined with blood all the same. She reached hesitantly towards his face, stopping short. “I—” Her voice broke. “I hurt you—”

“Doll, stop. I’m fine. This is nothing.” He could tell she didn’t believe him. Tears were spilling over again. “I stabbed Steve once.”

That brought her back. “You what?”

He nodded, a trace of a grin on his face. After everything he’d done, everything he’d been through, she was worried about a couple scratches on his face that he’d already forgotten about, that would be gone by morning. He remembered for a moment the concern on her face at a shard of metal lodged in his thigh, while she lay bleeding and pinned under a pile of concrete.

Self-sacrificing dumbass. A matching pair, they were.

“A week after I got to the compound, Steve realized I was having nightmares. He asked FRIDAY to notify him when I had them so he could come pull me back...I didn’t know he did that. And he didn’t know I was sleeping with a knife in my hand. A knife that I promptly buried in his shoulder the second he touched me.” He reached behind him to the nightstand, carding through the contents of the drawer before coming up with a dark metal blade, three inches before the handle. Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“He was fine,” he assured her. “Clearly, he’s fine. He didn’t even have the heart to give me grief about it. Although he started bringing his shield with him whenever he came to wake me up.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he knew she meant for more than the scratches.

“Love, don’t be sorry. You have so much to heal from. Your body got the focus, but everything else has to catch up. And I’m here for whatever that looks like. Maybe you try one of the psychologists Helen recommended. Or we could go together. As much as I hate to agree with Tony, he swears by it, and I think he’s right on this one.”

Her hands fidgeted, her eyes searching his. “You—you’d go with me?”

“Of course, doll. Hell, it’d probably be good for me too. And,” he continued, “I will always be here to fight the demons away. Maybe you can meet mine sometime, too.”

She huffed. “I’ll kick their fucking asses.”

“Of course you will, doll. C’mere.” He pulled her back to him, wrapping his arms around her and easing them both back down onto the bed. She settled with one hand pressed to his chest, the other tracing soft lines in the divots on his shoulder. His chin rested on the crown of her head, his hands wrapped around her waist and fiddling with her hair. Breathing as one. Ready to fight the demons away.

“Y’know,” Bucky said after a moment. “I think I definitely upgraded.”

“Hmmm?”

“I swapped a knife for a badass woman in my bed. I think the latter is more dangerous. And definitely much sexier.” He didn’t have to look at her to know the pink that was painting across her cheeks, but he couldn’t resist. He hummed at the sight, swooping in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose, then a second to the scar on her collarbone. “My favorite color.”

“You ass,” she grumbled, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“Doll, you should know right now that I have made it my mission in life to see that blush as many times as I possibly can.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling in earnest now.

“Please tell me that a few of those times will come from what we do...later.” The blush was deeper now, and he chuckled.

“Oh doll, far more than a few. You wound me even to ask.” She laughed, and Bucky fell in love all over again. He expected he’d be falling every day of his life.

“I love you, Bucky.” She was a quiet for a moment, and then: “Even if you are a self-sacrificing dumbass.”

He grinned. “You’re one to talk, doll.”

He brought her hand to his lips, peppering her knuckles with kisses. “I love you so much, Y/N.” She sighed into him, shifting closer. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

Bucky couldn’t help the traces of a quiet hum falling from his lips as Y/N’s breath evened against his chest. Hints of a tune from a bay window and jostled shoulders, from a cold rooftop and her arms around his neck and a sky full of stars.

Listen to “Heavy” by Birdtalker Here

A/N: This fic was never one that I intended to write, but once the suggestion/request was made, I couldn’t stop thinking about where these two would go next. Many thanks to those who loved Deadweight so much that they inspired a whole new piece (tagged below).

I know the structure of the piece is a bit atypical, as the long-awaited smut is usually the plot climax (no pun intended). But that was how I felt this particular iteration of Bucky and the reader would process the events of Deadweight. Neither of them are really written to be the type to ask for help, and I think they would have felt that physical intimacy would be the best solution to the trauma they experienced. It certainly didn’t hurt, and in fact, created the vulnerability they needed, but in this case the sex was more of a stepping stone to emotional healing.

On the subject of smut, this is my first attempt. I’m mostly pleased with how it came out, but I’m not sure that it’s my forte. I think angst, whump, and a bit of fluff are more my speed for now, so feedback and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Goodness knows there are some very skilled smut writers on this site, and perhaps some of you could provide some suggestions for improvement.

Lastly, I think this plot line ends here, at least for the foreseeable future. I’m a sucker for a happy ending, so please feel free to fill in the blanks yourself for the remainder of their healing process, which would certainly not be a linear one, and would more than likely take the remainder of their lives, as healing tends to do. But I’m confident in the victory of these two, as individuals and as a pair.

Thank you so, so much for reading!

Tag List - Comment, message, or send me an ask if you’d like to join!

@buckysbabygorl / @soullessheartlesshumanoid / @justanothermarvelfanaccount / @pspice639

For deadweight

@shawnie--jo / @barnesofrivia / @catgirl1321 / @kinanabinks 

[tomatograter]

Do you think Dirk saying that he doesn't like to label himself as gay means he has internalized homophobia? Or does he really just don't like to put labels on himself? I've seen ppl saying it's homophobia but there's ppl in real life that don't feel comfortable with labels so I'm a bit confused honestly, cus we are talking about Dirk and he's... Dirk after all

Easy answer: Dirk is Gay.

Prolonged answer: I think it's kinda weird how some fandom discussion around "Dirk dodging the label in One pesterlog" has largely spiraled way outside of its original context to be talked about in a vacuum, especially when that context is crucial to understanding what is actually being said, AKA — it belongs to a deeply awkward conversation between Dirk and Roxy. One of Many they are implied to have had about the subject of Roxy's sustained, unwelcome, and oft drunken advances towards Dirk (& his splinters).

I'm going to reproduce it plus another bit of text down below, for the sake of comparison.

(To prevent the trickster text from looking like absolute shit, I have altered the background. Read the original here, if you're nasty: https://www.homestuck.com/story/5754 )

Now that we've been reacquainted with how and where that sentiment is expressed, let's try to break down what Dirk is doing here.

He is not receptive to Roxy's early advances, and spends most of the 'intro' for this conversation (not pictured) ignoring when Roxy flirts with him, until she gets upset at how 'boring' he is being right now.

Dirk is the one compelled to apologize.

He proceeds to shut the scenario down as an unwanted probability, eliciting further guilt-babbling from Roxy over how Dirk never wants to play along with the perfect traditional family fantasy, until she finally blows up and says it's because he's gay.

"I mean, yeah, that's what I thought."

Dirk, rather than saying I Am Not Gay, since he looooooves changing a conversational subject, claims that "Gay" is not entirely historically appropriate for this situation, given the non-negligible passage of time and the wildly dystopic circumstances* they find themselves in.

Dirk reassures Roxy he does still care about her.

Dirk is absolutely terrified of a similarly inclined (and intoxicated) Roxy up close. This is the most exclamations he's ever used.

Now, *These circumstances? The loss of 99% of the human race, including their society, customs, culture, and prejudices. (ALLEGEDLY.) It's important to remember that from Dirk and Roxy's side of the timetable, troll culture has been pushed as "the norm" for actual fucking centuries. HIC tried to recreate the caste system by artificially coloring human blood, leading to the death of billions. Faygo came out of the water tap, not water. Troll slang was incorporated into the English language. Humans ceased to organically reproduce. They were actively Discouraged from reproducing, since that's not something HIC could have total genetic control over; rendering traditional marriage and the concept of the nuclear family pointless.

You could also argue that same-gender relationships are not uncommon in Alternia, making "gay" altogether unnecessary by proxy, and that's true! But my point is this one: any union (or at least our society's holy concept of it) between straightie humans would be by definition undesirable under HIC's rule, too. She is the church, the president and the governing body. The population is only as good as they are assets for her to do whatever she wants with, including mass murder.

But wait! While that tracks… Roxy clearly still holds onto very 'conservative' definitions of romance for most of Homestuck. We see this multiple times. Dirk, as proved in conversations with Jake, uses 'gay' as an ironic pejorative. Suddenly it's not Historically Inaccurate anymore, Jake's interests are just gay.

Does this mean the context above is basically worthless, since they don't seem to have internalized it? No.

What must be kept in mind is this: Dirk and Roxy's only "active" link to de facto humanity is our society as it was in the early 2010's. Those glimpses they get by talking with jane and jake. They have all that dystopic context, yes, but the reality that seems the most "unfucked" to them for a grand majority of their lives are the halcyon years before the Condesce's rise to power: back when weed was illegal, BlogSpot was popular, movies sucked, MTV was still a hip channel, and gay generally meant something real bad. The wave of homophobia as a punchline or fear mongering tactic was at THE HEIGHTS. Marriage equality was a hot debate topic. Those were the dayz.

Dirk is keenly aware of the taboo implication the word "Gay" as a self-denomination carries. He's no dummy. But he's rarely direct with his intentions either. He's slippery as a bar of soap. (He's never "straight about his feelings", if you prefer.) And for a guy that cares so much about his reputation and maintaining a curated sense of utter coolness, he wants to avoid outing himself as any sort of weirdo no matter the cost.

But that's not all. I think the gravity of just how much Dirk believes he *owes* Roxy simply for existing as the last human in the same timeframe as her is a severely underplayed aspect of Dirk's core character, together with how much he tries to avoid her sexual advances only to end up feeling like absolute shit over it, because — if they truly are the last people on god's blighted earth, isn't he being "selfish" and "irrational" about not feeling shit for Roxy, in the grand scale of things? Is Roxy not his only friend in tangible reality, even if he avoids the mere suggestion of visiting her? Even if she gets black-out drunk and tries to push him into indulging her, regardless of how many times he's already said no?

(Spend enough time here and you realize how it directly mirrors the jane/jake experience.)

Dirk cares a lot about each and every one of his friends.

He pointedly adapts his speech based on whichever one of them he's talking to in an effort to express that investment. May it be reassuring Jane, fooling around with Jake, or trying to prevent Roxy from falling into a total catatonic doom-spiral; he avoids telling them anything that would be too crushing to hear. That's not what he's trying to do here. Not to say that he isn't bitchy sometimes, but that’s far from the central thing he does. The Epilogues have retroactively led people to believe that Dirk abhors and despises every single person he's ever been close to before (god forbid) LIKING them, and I think buying too much into that assumption ignores the foundations of his canon text, as well as the central motivation behind 99% of his actions in the story. This is the guy that grew up on Friendship Is Magic, has a picture of rainbow dash shamefully glued to one wall and a rainbow poster of Jake's symbol stapled to another, and everything he does is a little cringe attempt to demonstrate his worth by showing how much he cares about people, even when he's punching his actual feelings down instead of up and saying them.

Which brings us back to the load-bearing part of this question: Admitting to Roxy that there is absolutely no fucking way he will ever agree to having her babbys because he is gay is precisely the opposite of what Dirk wants to say, if his intention isn't pulverizing her. So he doesn't. And his worry on this regard is such that it prevents Dirk from even telling Roxy that he does love her, in the platonic sense, as a friend and hell-earth survivor, because he knows that specificity is what that would disappoint her greatly. (He only ever confesses this to Jane, on the death slabs.)

But also I think this is a really funny visual of Dirk's relationship with the word gay, to put statements into perspective:

[randomshyperson]

Left Behind - Chapter 10 - Atlantis

Gif was made by @abimess aka wifey

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader || platonic bucky barnes x reader, mentor!natastha romanoff and mentor!steve rogers, bruce banner x reader (friendship), pietro maximoff x reader (friendship).

Words: 3.445K

A/N> I should warn you for the angst in this one i think. Please don't hate the ending of this or the fic. Good reading you all. Also, listen to "Atlantis" by Seafret, i chose the name based on that song.

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

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Chapter 10 - Atlantis

You ignore the insinuating look Pietro gives you when he sees you leaving Wanda's room in the morning.

"Not a word." You warn threateningly as he raises his arms in surrender, holding back his laughter.

You turn and go back to your room, trying not to smile like an idiot as you prepare for the mission, and failing miserably.

You try not to think about last night, or the morning after, but the feel of Wanda's lips on your skin is all that comes to mind for the next few hours.

Even during breakfast, where after she stole a kiss on your cheek in the hallway before you guys joined the Avengers, and sat beside you at the table while Steve went over some details to everyone, all you could think about was the last night. In Wanda's taste, her hands inside…

"Stop it." She warns softly at your side. Lower enough so only you can hear, and not to get in the way of the captain's speech. You blink in confusion, and then you understand. Feeling your face heat up, you look at her with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

"You can...?"

"Yes, now eat in silence please." She interrupts in the same tone, equally embarrassed as she keeps her gaze on the plate in front of her.

"Wanda?" You try next. And she mutters under her breath, and then she realizes. She rolls her eyes, and goes back to eating. You smile. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you could hear thoughts."

"It was kind of obvious don't you think?" She retorts mentally. "My whole thing is mind control."

"Your whole thing is to be the love of my life." You tease and she chokes lightly on her coffee, making you hold back a laugh as you gently touch her back. She says she's fine softly, and Steve, who had given her a worried look, goes back to talking about planning for the defenses in Sokovia.

"When this is over, I want to try a few things." You mentally tell her and Wanda looks at you quickly before turning her attention back to Steve. You imitate the movement.

"We'll leave as soon as you finish eating." Steve says already getting up. You suddenly feel anxious.

Wanda notices the way your body has tensed, and looks at you immediately.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asks tenderly. You give her a weak smile, placing your hand on her thigh. Wanda puts her hand on top of yours.

"I'm nervous."

"Me too." She confesses. "But we'll be fine. I got you."

"And I got you."

//-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-//

As soon as you join the jet with the rest of the Avengers, you could already feel the control serum starting to wear off.

Sighing a little, you don't even have to ask to have Wanda's hand in yours. Her eyes and fingers glow red for a moment as she helps you, before returning to normal. You mumble a thanks, resting your back against the jet's wall.

"Remember what we trained, Avengers." Announces Steve upon entering. "Removing the civilians is the support team's priority, while Clint searches for Natasha. The strike team must deal with Ultron's guards."

"Yes, captain." The team says in understanding, and then the jet is leaving.

It takes ten minutes for Pietro to start teasing you.

"I hear we had a girls night yesterday." Commented the boy out loud, attracting the attention of Bruce and Bucky, who were standing next to you. Wanda glared at her brother.

"Pietro..."

"What is it, sestra? I’m just saying.”He joked. You wondered if you could throw him off the jet from that high. "I heard that this type of activity is a great stress reliever."

You felt your face heat up, and you sank into your seat. In the next second, the rest of the team understood. Clint whistled loudly, and Tony laughed. Bruce blushed and pretended to pay attention to his boots while Bucky giggled at Steve's embarrassed expression.

"Forgive me, I'm not following the reason for the humor in this conversation." Vision commented then.

"Don’t you dare." Wanda warned when he saw Pietro raise his hand to tell Vis what was being said, and the boy laughed before ducking.

Vision watched the interaction with confusion, but it was Tony who threw his arm around him.

"They had sex, champion." Tony announced, making you grunt in embarrassment. "I can't wait for Nat to know, she owes me fifteen bucks”.

“What?” Wanda asks, confused.

"Ah, it's just that before you arrived, the golden eyes there were always talking about you." Tony counts with irony. "How much she loved and missed a certain little witch and her inconvenient brother. So we made a bet that you two would work it out. I said it would happen before you went back to Sokovia, but Natasha thought Y/N was slower and would just work it out after we’re done with Ultron."

"Thanks for the faith, Tony." You mumble awkwardly, adjusting your posture. "Now if you don't mind, can you stop talking about my life?"

The team laughs but the comments about you and Wanda stops. Until you reach Sokovia, you spend your time playing with Wanda fingers as you both lay against each other's shoulders while listening to whenever small talk the Avengers build up.

Things get tense once you reach the country.

Steve signals that you arrive and starts moving around to get read for the jet to land.

You only let go of Wanda’s hand to put your suit on and once you’re done, she’s right in front of you, smiling tenderly as she puts a jacket on.

“Are you good?” She asks.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah.” She aswerns as she moves forward to kiss you firmly on the mouth. It relaxes your body completely, and you keep your hands on top of hers that are on your face until you break the kiss.

You wish you could care about the teasing looks the team cast to you too, but all you see is Wanda.

//-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-////-//-//-//

You sat down quickly on the ground, your body against a wall, while trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Wanda was using her powers to get civilians out of their homes, and well, it took some of her magical attention away from you.

It didn't take long for you to be able to detect all the biological life around you again, meters and meters away, quickly feeling overwhelmed.

"How are we?" Steve asked over the communicator, probably already advancing with the rest of the team towards the former Hydra base. You looked up at the sky to get a quick glimpse of Tony flying in his suit before he vanished away.

"All right around here, Captain." Clint responded first followed by the rest of the team.

Your hesitation made Steve specifically call you, but before you could say anything, Wanda was kneeling beside you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on her communicator.

"We are good." She responded before turning her attention to you completely. You felt her magic envelop you quickly, your body relaxing. "How do you feel, dear?"

"Better now." You respond with a smile. "Thanks."

As she helped you to your feet, you noticed her worried expression, and placed a hand on her cheek.

"I'm fine Wanda, I promise."

"Just don't push too far, okay?" She asks. "You can go back to the jet whenever you want."

"I'll be okay, Wanda." You mumble. "Let's get this over with so we can go back to bed." You teases with a mischievous smile, stealing a kiss before walking away, giving her a wink before heading towards the rest of the civilians.

Ultron had better plans than this.

“We need to get everyone out of here immediately.” Tony told through the communicator. “A vibranium bomb. We don’t have time.”

“Working on it, iron boss.” You mock as you helped another family move out of their home. Just like, Pietro had already headed to police stations and hospitals to remove people from there. There was a large crowd of inhabitants heading out of town, but there were still many more.

Peace ended quickly.

Ultron activated the robot army, and they literally began to sprout from the ground.

"Bucky, we're going to need support here pal." Steve warned through the communicator while you were drawing your pistol to prevent one of the robots from advancing on you.

"On my way, cap." The soldier warned. "Just don't tell my therapist."

You and the team laughed lightly as you fought. The whole thing getting bigger and bigger every minute.

Wanda covered for you while you guided people out, but it was becoming untenable.

So, as soon as she tore apart the small group of Ultron’s army that was surrounding you two, you called her.

"You can't keep babysitting me , this is getting too bad." You warned, your voice almost muffled by the length of the fight. The robots flying above you, and Thor and Vision facing them in the sky.

"I won't leave you." She insisted seriously and you swallowed hard.

"Wanda..."

“End of discussion.”

“You are cute and all, it's just that we have a situation here. Mind getting back into the fight?" Natasha's voice interrupted the moment over the radio, sounding amused and teasing. You sighed with relief when you realized she was okay, and you exchanged one last look with Wanda before going back to fighting. “By the way, Tony said I lost the bet.”

“Please don’t bring this back.” You ask Natasha, that just laughs before hanging off, not without teasing you about being proud of you for making a move.

The ground shook beneath your feet, making it difficult for you to keep your balance.

"Guys, what's going on?" You asked through the communicator.

Sokovia is going for a ride.

Friday tells the whole team. You gasp in surprise, looking around.

The ground is breaking apart, and the city is rising into the air. You don't need your powers to know that not all buildings are empty. The debris will end up hurting someone.

And even with all that, the advances of Ultron's army get even worse.

You barely have time to duck before Wanda rips apart a robot that attacked you.

Clint catches up with you two the next second.

"We need to regroup, Tony needs us back there." He warns you. You frown.

"Not a chance, there are civilians all over the place." You say, moving quickly to fire at the machines that have appeared behind you.

"Well, we need the offensive back at the church." He counters. "That's where the bomb is."

"You two go then." You say when you finish shooting. Wanda, who has just destroyed three machines at once, turns to you in indignation.

"No."

But you don't look at her, you look at the blue flash figure approaching.

“Hey Peete, do you mind?” You shouted to him as he stopped next to you two. He nods at you before picking Wanda up, who has no time to complain. He teases Clint "Keep up, old man." before disappearing at high speed, making you laugh.

Clint looks at you.

“Are you sure?”

"It's my job to protect them.”

“The Maximoff or the civilians?” He mocks, making you roll your eyes.

“Go, Barton.”

It doesn't take long for your biological detection to come back.

You think you're going to pass out. But you take a deep breath, and stumble among cars and wrecking machines.

Calm down. You remember Wanda's soft voice in the glass room. The feel of her fingers on your skin. Calm down, I'm here. You can do this.

"I can do this." You mutter to yourself, trying to keep your balance.

You find a horde around the corner, almost close enough to a group of civilians coming out of the municipal hospital.

Ignoring the feeling of being overwhelmed at being able to feel the fear and despair of those people, you advance with the pistol in your hand.

The machines were destroyed, but not by you.

"You took your time, Barnes." You tease with a wry smile, rushing to help the civilians, feeling their superficial wounds before helping them. Bucky smiles and shrugs, a rifle in his hand as he gives you cover to help the population.

"Two minutes out here and I'm already missing my retirement." He comments as he fires, making you laugh, a bit breathless due your powers. Bucky notices right the way. "Are you all right?"

"I'm just considering retiring too after here." You retort by standing up again, helping the little girl who had bruises on her forehead to join the rest of the family. She smiles in thanks, but you're already walking away again, your head pounding from how many people you can feel at once.

You stumble around the rubble to the front of the municipal hospital. Ignoring the memories you have of the whole neighborhood, you try to focus on some group.

"Y/N, I think there are kids coming out of that corner!" Bucky unnecessarily warns you because you've already felt them.

You recognize Church clothes that the adults leading the group wear. They are coming from the Orphanage where you grew up.

You run to catch up to them, and it's the first time you've really noticed Ultron's cruelty. It's a horde that arises, and they notice you right away. The machine in front follows your gaze to the small group, and it has a chance to shoot only you, but it turns its mechanical hand, and aims directly at the kids.

You widen your eyes, feeling your heart race.

"NO!"

Something explodes in your chest. Everything turns golden before returning to normal color. You can’t see the golden wave that reaches the group because there’s a pain in the back of your head that makes you close your eyes tightly.

The robot fired, but if it weren't for the gunshot marks on the robes, no one would know as none of the civilians had any injury. The kids were wide-eyed, and you fell to your knees.

Bucky shot the machines before looking at you in amazement.

"How did you do that? They were practically a street away." He asked in shock, watching the nuns guide the kids to cover quickly, just as in shock as he was. Your lack of response alarmed him and he turned to face you quickly, touching your shoulder. "Y/N, you're bleeding..."

"I know." You grunt weakly, taking a deep breath as you lean on Bucky to get up. "Let 's keep going."

You wiped the blood running from your nose with your hand, but ignored the wet sensation in your ears. Bucky hesitated.

"No, you're not okay." He insisted. "Let's go back..."

"Let go of me, Bucky." You exclaimed angrily, pulling his hands away. "I heal, don't I? I'll be fine. Let's keep going."

"Y/N..."

But you are already walking. You can feel all the injured, and you need to keep going.

You help at least two more groups to shelter, until you're resting your hands on your knees and trying to stay on your foot.

You see your blood dripping to the ground, and you hear Bucky's footsteps approaching, so you wipe your face quickly while disguising the way your head is spinning.

"This isn't working Y/N." He says as he looks around at the wreckage. "These things seem to grow out of the ground, and there's no end to them. The city is too high right now and these people have nowhere to go."

You were going to agree with him, but something in the sky caught your eye.

"I think that's their ride." You say while pointing straight ahead.

It's a gigantic ship, flowing alongside the city. You and Bucky exchange a look, before he uses the communicator to confirm that this was a good thing.

With Shield providing shelter for civilians, you started running to help evacuate people from the floating capital of Sokovia.

Your head was spinning, and your feet were about to give up, but you forced yourself to continue.

Your body is shaking when you turn to help a boy who cut his leg.

"Ty angel, devochka? (are you an angel, lady?)" He asks, scared when you heal him and you give a weak laugh.

"Net, ya Avenger. (no, I’m an Avenger.)"

The wound isn't that big, but it's enough to rob the air of your lungs. Bucky guides the boy with the rest of the group back to the ship, and you can barely stand, your stomach turning.

You force yourself to get up. Just a bit longer.

Lifting your hand to your ear, you call out to Wanda while leaning on the car beside you so you don't fall to the ground.

"Wands?" You say wait for her to respond. She sounds worried when she says your name, but you just sigh. "Babe, when this is over, I'm taking you out on a date. Like the cliches we've never done before, okay?"

"Why are you talking like this?" She asked, scared. You can hear the background noises, the way she was probably keeping the bomb safe but facing Ultron's army. "Where are you?"

"I think we should try Disneyland too. Americans seem to love that." You continue as you begin to walk again. One hand on the tech inside your ear and the other in the wound in your belly, formed while you faced the last horde of robots, not healing anymore. "You would like a candlelight date with wine and music, wouldn’t you?"

"Please tell me where you are, I'll come to you." She begs through the radio and you smile before hanging up.

You saw Clint run further to the town.

You take a deep breath, rushing to catch up. You also see the jet Ultron stole rounding the city towards them, the rifles outside ready to aim.

That's why Clint ran there, to save one of the civilians left behind, you notice as you see the little boy on your friend's arm.

You try to do what you did before. Project your healing magic to them to keep them protected, but as you lift your hands to do that, all you feel is a sharp twinge in the middle of your chest and you almost fall to the ground.

Fine, I'll heal them myself. You think impatiently as you ignore your own limit and run.

You are almost there. But so is Ultron. If you stay up front, you think you can protect Clint and the civilian, you'd heal later, no problem.

“I’m gonna win.”

You widen your eyes in surprise when Pietro whispers in your ear, disappearing in his speed the next moment.

No. Don't do this.

You feel the shots before you hear them. You feel it through Pietro's body, who stepped forward to protect Clint.

You throw yourself forward, desperate.

You reach Pietro the second his heart stops beating.

"Piete?" You call to him as he falls into your lap. You can feel the air disappearing from his lungs, life fading away "Hey buddy, don't do that. Pietro! Please..."

You bury your face in his chest, trying to hear something. Anything. You press your hands against his chest next, then his face.

"Don't die on me, Pietro." You beg with a sob. You force your magic in despair. No matter how much it hurts, Pietro cannot die. He just can't.

You can only remember the skinny little boy running with you in your childhood. Laughing with you on the roof. Teaching you to fight.

Your tears mix up with your blood.

"Captain, we have a problem." Clint announces at your side.

No.

I'm not giving up.

You grunt in pain as you press your hands hard on Pietro's chest, your veins popping with a golden light. You're not dying on me.

Something starts to pulse in your head. Loud enough to completely disorient you. Your eyes are heavy, and you choke on your own blood coming out of your mouth.

You smile because you can feel the air returning to your friend's lungs at the same rate as it leaves yours.

When Pietro breathes again, your eyes close.

/-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-///-//-//-//-////-//-//-//-////-//-

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[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWENTY TWO || THE ORIGIN OF BLIND OBEDIENCE

↳ featuring : itadori yuji + fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + nitta akari from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + mention of suicide + mention of dangerous acts + mention of killing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 04 may

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 7.2k

↳ 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 : jamais vu

↳ next episode : the origin of blind obedience 2 

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit...this ain’t my best piece of work, but i hope you all enjoy this episode of the series and good night everyone ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

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’.

there was one going to be mention but...let’s keep that a secret for now...

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...

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

“Kanada Taichi in Morioka, in June. Shimada Osamu in Yokohama, in August. Yamato Hiroshi in Nagoya, in September. These three died in similar circumstances. They were stabbed to death by a cursed spirit at the entrances to their apartments and all of them had filed the same complaint with the property managers several weeks before dying. They claimed their auto-locking doors were left wide open. None of the other residents have any idea what could have happened,” Nitta (your current driver) explained, causing you to open your eyes slowly, letting your drowsiness fade away slowly.

Currently, at this moment in time, you and your classmates were being driven to your desired destination to your current mission that all four of you were set causing you to wonder how much longer the drive was going to be, but also how you were going to cope with dealing with the whole ordeal since it had been a while since you had gone on a mission dealing with the unknown - last time was over two months ago at the detention centre where you had to face Sukuna (a special grade curse).

“None of the dates or locations match, though. Could the same cursed spirit have killed them all?” Fushiguro questioned as he stared down at the Ipad he had in his hands while trying to read all the information that was provided.

‘There is one location they all have in common though’ you thought, as you turned your head to stare out of the window, recalling the time where you had read the same information on your phone during breakfast with your adoptive father, Gojo Satoru.

“Hey, could the cursed spirit be responsible for the doors? Do sensors like those pick up cursed spirits? They don’t show up on camera and stuff, right?” Itadori began to ask an abundance of questions causing you to internally giggle as some of the questions he asked were basic knowledge for jujutsu sorcerers, but it was adorable for him to try to find a solution.

“Apparently, the cursed spirit made the door operators go crazy, not the sensors,” Nitta answered, leading you to give a side-eye to indicate that you were listening to her before going back to peer at the window to figure out a solution of your own about the current situation.

“Oh...Operators?” Itadori muttered in confusion as he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“And as for whether or not the same cursed spirit was behind this...Well, we couldn’t be certain from just the residuals. After all, a lot of time had already passed. So we tried to track down any connections between the three, we found that all three attended the same middle school for two years,” Nitta mentioned causing you to stiffen up slightly on the information given to you.

“Meaning all three received the same curse, and it activated after time had passed?” Kugisaki suggested with a thinking gesture causing Itadori to make a noise of impressiveness before leaning forward to view the female sorcerer.

“Precisely. That’s highly likely. So we’re going to that middle school now to question someone the three victims all knew, and I want you four to see what you can find as sorcerers,” Nitta answered leading you to sigh (to which she slyly notices) before you processed to close your eyes as if you were going to nap for a bit.

“Way to go, Kugisaki!” Itadori mentioned in astonishment leading the mentioned sorcerer to flick her hair back.

“Heh. What’d you expect?” Kugisaki questioned smugly.

However, without the attention of all three of you, Fushiguro seemed to be annoyed as he leaned his head back onto the chair seats before letting out a sigh of his own, wondering how he was going to handle this situation now.

                                              ꕥ

“A funeral?” Itadori questioned, as you processed to exit out of the car leading you to see a few people wearing all black, entering into a building before shutting the door quietly to not disturb the mourners that were attending the disheartening event.

“Is this the home of that acquaintance?” Kugisaki asked as she was also looking at the darkening event that was happening.

“Yes, it is…” NItta answered in a stutter leading everyone to get back in the car since there was no possible way, all of you could even interview someone properly during this time since it would be considered extremely rude.

                                               ꕥ

“Well, this sucks. He dies the same way the other three did. He lived with his family, so there was no auto-locking door, but he was killed in front of the entrance. Previously, upon returning home alone, he reported, “The door was unlocked, but it wouldn’t open,” to his family members,” Nitta explained, as you processed to scan through all the documents through your phone trying to obtain some sort of connection between all the victims rather than the middle school that they attended to.

‘Date of birth 1983-1984...that means they were in middle school at around 1995-1998...Yasohachi Bridge was popular back then, right?’

Suddenly, the car had come to a sudden halt causing you to look up from your phone, only to discover that you had arrived at the location that Nitta had discussed to everyone at the beginning leading you to look up that the building from the side of your window before slowly letting out a breath as you processed to open the car door to go and investigate with the others.

“I asked his parents, too, but they said they didn’t know what relationship he had with the other three. Man, there goes our only lead!” Nitta whined loudly, as everyone began to enter the school premises causing you to halt for a second before you continued to stroll behind them, trying to make sure your classmates didn’t notice your fidgeting behaviour.

“Don’t worry! There has to be something at this middle school!” Itadori reassured Nitta as she looked disappointed with her head hanging low.

“I sure hope so. For now, I’ve secured an appointment with a teacher, so I’m counting on you,” Nitta replied with a disheartened tone.

“Roger,” Itadori replied with a determined smile.

Suddenly, Kugisaki (who had her hands behind her head in the beginning) unexpectedly had a mischievous smile painted on her face before quickly running off to the side causing you to look at her with a raised eyebrow as you wondered what she was planning on doing.

“There’s some obvious punks, let’s beat’em up and set’em straight!” Kugisaki suggested causing you to walk up to her with your hand raised since she was going completely off-topic with what everyone was supposed to do currently.

“Why?” Itadori asked in a confused tone.

Slowly, the two punks that Kugisaki mentioned began to straightening up with menacing looks on their face, leading Itadori to lean forward to observe the two, only for them to suddenly straighten up more in sudden fear, causing you to be somewhat confused on why there was a sudden change in expression, only for your eyes to follow what they were looking at.

“I-It’s good to see you!” the pucks shouted while processing to bow 90 degrees with their heads lowered causing you to turn back to them with widened eyes at what was going on.

“Heh, look at that. You actually get it,” Kugisaki stated with a smug look on her face causing you to give her a fed-up look towards her direction while trying to figure out why Itadori was joining in her shenanigans.

“An aura just pours out, even if you try to hide it,” Itadori mentioned as he pushed his hair back leading you to ignore both of your classmates and you processed to look around the school trying to find some clues while noticing slight hints of cursed energy roaming around the premises.

“We haven’t seen you since graduation, Fushiguro-san!” one of the punks mentioned, causing the two smug sorcerers to drop their act before quickly turning around to see Fushiguro, who was now looking to the side in embarrassment.

“I...went here...for middle school,” Fushiguro announced before turning his back to face behind him to avoid his classmates, only for them to violently grab his face as they tried to make his turn to face them.

“That’s a surprise, too, but that’s not the point! Look at me!” Kugisaki angrily demanded, as she forcibly turned Fushiguro’s face to look at her with a struggle as Itadori had a hold of the shikigami sorcerer’s head to make it face him.

“What’d you do?! What did you do in middle school?! No, it would be quicker to ask them!” Itadori mentioned in a panic, as he was desperate to find an answer.

“Hey, Idiot A and Idiot B! What did this guy do to you?” Kugisaki yelled out her question, while still having a hold on Fushiguro’s face.

“We...Or rather, every delinquent, gang member, and so on in this area got beaten up by Fushiguro-san,” one of the punks answered, as both of them lifted their heads leading both Itadori and Kugisaki to let go of their friend’s face in shock before turning back to face him in confusion, looking for answers.

“I beat them up,” Fushiguro muttered as he turned his head back with his now messed up hair, leading Itadori and Kugisaki to grab his face again in complete surprise.

“Why do you keep talking so stiffly?! Look at me!” Kugisaki angrily asked as she painfully turned Fushiguro’s face to look at her.

“What are you doing?! Hey! What are you doing?!” Itadori asked in a panic, once again, as he now turned Fushiguro’s head to face him.

“Wow~ you beat up people Fushiguro, what a drag~” you commented with a hand over your mouth leading the erratic-haired sorcerer to look to you for help only for you to turn away to observe the school’s premises again, trying to gain something for the mission at hand.

“Hey!” someone shouted, causing both of the sorcerers to let go of Fushiguro’s face which led his hair to bounce a bit. Turning around to face the front, you noticed an old man with glasses running up towards you guys leading your eyes to widen once you had gotten a good look at who was coming towards everyone.

“Who are you? Students from other schools aren’t allowed in here!” the old man stated with a loud tone.

“And who the hell are you?!” Kugisaki yelled back in anger, causing you to smack the back of her head as if to tell her to ‘shut up’ which caused her to look up at you with a pout as she held her head to soothe the pain away.

“He’s clearly a staff member. Why are you so combative?” Itadori questioned in a low tone as he began to slouch.

“We have permission to be here,’ Nitta informed the staff member while processing to show the pass that she was carrying leading the old man to adjust his glasses as he peered at the pass she was currently holding.

“Oh, you’re the ones? You’re all young, you need to hang your pass around your neck,” the old man mentioned as began to observe the group of students behind her before his eyes widened once they handed on a certain someone. 

“Fushiguro-kun?” 

“Hello,” Fushiguro greeted, as he looked to the side with a small blush beginning to appear on his face.

“He remembers you!” Itadori and Kugisaki mentioned in a teasing tone as they looked at their classmate with an amused look.

“So this man’s been here a long time?” NItta asked with a cheerful tone, leading you to conclude that she probably had gained hope for a new lead on the mission that was happening right now.

“Probably, Takeda-san’s a permanent employee,” Fushiguro answered in a monotone voice.

“Then I leave the rest to you!” Nitta concluded, to which she held a thumbs up as if it was some sort of encouragement.

‘Abandoning her duty....’ Fushiguro thought, before shifting his eyes towards you as he realised that you had become quiet again, only to discover that you were looking at Takeda with some sort of fondness in your eyes as a small but noticeable smile appeared on your face.

‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it Takeda-san? How are you? You’ve been okay? I wish I could ask you this..but...it’s for the best that I didn’t at all huh?’ you thought before turning your head to look at the windows beside you, only to realise that the same hint of cursed energy was still lingering around.

‘I’m surprised it remains here…’ you mentioned internally before turning back to look at the staff member in front of you.

                                              ꕥ

“Kanada, Shimada, Yamato...and Morishita, huh? I was shocked by their passing, but I guess it’s been nearly twenty years since they graduated, I remember it like it was yesterday. They were problem children in their own right, though not as bad as you. What do you want to know?” Takeda mentioned with a soft smile causing you to scoff a bit at his comment as you covered your mouth to hold your laugh but to Fushiguro’s annoyance.

“Strange rumours, dark rumours, connections to bad adults…” Fushiguro listed as he raised his arm, leading you to look at him weirdly since it wasn’t the arm towards your side he had lifted.

“Hey, problem child!” Itadori and Kugisaki chanted in a teasing tone.

“...and anything of ill omen,” Fushiguro concluded before closing his hand into a fist as he proceeded to swing it down to punch the top of Itadori’s head.

“Dark rumours? They may have been problem children, but they never went beyond average middle school stuff. But wait...ill omen?” Takeda muttered as he began to think.

“Do you mean that tale? About the Yasohachi Bridge bungee jumping?” one of the punks questioned, causing you to look to the side in interest since you had an idea about the bridge before you had arrived at the middle school.

“You’re still here, A and B?” Kugisaki asked since she was surprised that they remained where they were.

“Yasohachi Bridge?” Itadori questioned.

“A notorious suicide spot, it’s well known in this area as a haunted location,” you answered in a casual tone before explaining why it was such an important detail to note for your pink-haired classmate.

“Oh, that’s right! Back then, it was all the rage among delinquents to bungee jump off Yasohachi Bridge late at night, it was one of those tests of courage,” Takeda explained, once he remembered what he was trying to think of.

“What a weird tribe,” Kugisaki muttered in annoyance.

“What a drag,” you mentioned in a fed-up tone.

“I’m surprised there are people dumber than me!” Itadori stated.

“What do you use for a cord?” Fushiguro questioned as he was trying to wonder how the people bungee jumped in the first place.

“We don’t do it, I just heard some students from our parents’ generation talking about it,” the punk mentioned causing you to nod your head slowly, conveying that you understood what he meant.

“One day, Kanada and the other three were absent without permission. That wasn’t all that usual by itself, but when we contacted their families, we learned that those four hadn’t come home the day before. It caused a pretty big stir, then they were found unconscious under the bridge. They got chewed out good, but all four swore up and down they didn’t remember a thing,” Takeda explained, causing all the first years to come to the same conclusion in their heads.

                                               ꕥ

“I think that’s it,” Nitta suggested as she looked at all four of you.

“I’ve been to Yasohachi Bridge, too,” Fushiguro mentioned in a serious tone.

“To bungee jump?” Itadori asked comedically, leading Fushiguro to swiftly smash a fist on the top of his head in annoyance causing Itadori to wince in pain as he held his head with a pout.

“It’s easy for curses to take root in haunted locations, just like in schools, so people from Jujutsu High regularly patrol it,” Fushiguro explained causing you to recall the times where you would walk around the area late at night while trying to hide from the sorcerers that came from time to time back a few years ago.

“There wasn’t anything unusual at the time, though. It might be a bit famous, but it’s still used as a normal bridge,” Fushiguro mentioned.

“We still have to go check it out, though,” Kugisaki suggested, causing you to agree with her since it was the best for all the four of you to survey the bridge yourselves.

“Fushiguro-kun?” someone called out, causing everyone to turn to find Takeda coming towards everyone’s way.

“Sorry, I was curious about something,” Takeda mentioned causing Fushiguro to fully turn around to face the old man.

“What is it?” Fushiguro asked.

“Tsukimi-kun took awfully good care of you when you were in school. Is she doing well?” the old man asked, causing you to stiffen up slightly before shifting your eyes to the side since you were getting nervous at the fact the staff member was remembering everyone little by little.

“Yes,” Fushiguro answered with a deadpan expression.

“Who’s Tsumiki?” Itadori asked the shikigami user in curiosity.

“My older sister,” Fushiguro answered in a low tone, leading Kugisaki to grab his shoulder in surprise once again.

“What?! You tell us too little about yourself!” Kugisaki mentioned in an annoyed tone leading Itadori to agree with her, leading the old man to tilt his head slightly to the side - to avoid the blockage of Itadori’s body - to discover you making your way to the side of the car, where you were sitting before.

“Excuse me, I also wanted to ask you something if you don’t mind,” Takeda asked in a kind tone, causing you to halt your movements before looking up to find the old man gifting you with a sweet smile that you remembered so much causing you to turn back and make your way towards the staff-member with lessening the tension that you had before walking away.

“Yeah, it’s fine, what is it you want to ask me?” you questioned with a light tone, trying to sound polite to the man, causing him to smile at you.

“Do I remember you from anywhere, you seem quite familiar to me?” Takeda asked, causing your eyes to widen in fear before quickly blinking away the sudden change in emotion you were surprisingly expressing so easily.

“I never been to Saitama Urami East Junior High before, I’m sorry but I don’t think I’m the person you are trying to recall,” you answered with a sad soft smile leading the man to sigh before fixing his glasses.

“Is that so? I’m sorry, the minute I saw you, I began to recall a student that would always help me around from time to time and she was always on top of her work, but she left around the second year before I got to thank her,” the old man began to reminisce, not noticing the stiffness of your body as well as the panic rising within your heart leading it to beat faster than it should.

‘He’s remembering too much, but didn’t I put enough cursed energy into that spell? It should have wiped everything from his memory’

“Sorry, but could you look at my left eye for a second? I think I got an eyelash stuck there,” you quickly asked, causing the old man to agree to help you as he adjusted his glasses once again before taking a good look at your eye.

‘It could cast it now, but the others are here...I could just not use the spell to its full potential and that couldn’t cause him to faint, maybe that will work,’ you quickly thought as you were slowly transferring a small amount of your cursed energy to your left eye.

“Haku-” you muttered under your breath before coming to a sudden halt, causing your cursed energy to waver slightly as it began to slowly move away from your eye leading you to conclude that you didn’t even have the guts to commit to the action that you were planning to go on with like you did two years ago, to which caused your heart to become extremely heavy with guilt as you knew once he entered back into the school, the lingering cursed energy that you had left in the school would cause his memory to fade away, processing you to let go of your sudden plan as the staff-member mentioned that there was nothing to worry about.

‘Nothing to worry about huh?’

“Thank you so much,” you softly said with gratitude before giving the old man a final wave goodbye before entering the car with the rest of your classmates, wondering if it was still for the best that you let him free with his memory gradually coming back to life.

                                              ꕥ

“We’re here. Koi no Kuchi Canyon, Yasohachi Bridge. Once you confirm a cursed spirit’s here, I’ll lower a veil,” Nitta explained as all of the first years processed to get out of the sleek black vehicle before stepping to the side of the bridge to be away from the road.

“Roger!” Itadori started with a confident smile presented on his face as he tugged at the vinyl cord he was holding.

Slowly, you began to walk away from the group while Nitta got back in her car before driving away and steadily grabbed onto the metal poles the were in front of you - probably built to prevent any more suicidal people from jumping over - and with much effort, began to pull yourself up to reach to the top before grabbing in the metal bar as you pulled yourself up even further.

“GOJO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Kugisaki screamed in horror, as she finally turned around to discover you pulled your body up to sit on top of the fence as you peered down to check how far you had to jump down in order to find what you were looking for in this mission.

“SHE’S NOT LISTENING!” Kugisaki yelled (once again) as she pointed at you in anger, causing the boys to turn around to see what the fuss was about before seeing the drastic measures you had taken to find the cursed spirit.

“Woah, Gojo, there’s no need for that! We have the vinyl cord for a reason!” Itadori mentioned, which seemed to be a way of getting you to come down from where you were right now as you turned to look at him before turning back at the ground below you.

“SHE’S NOT LISTENING AGAIN!” Itadori cried out in fear, as if he hadn’t done more stupid and extremes things than what you were doing right now.

“Gojo!” Fushiguro shouted before jumping up to reach the back of your school jacket, leading you to grab onto the sides of the metal bar that you were sitting on right now for support before turning back to peer at the shikigami user, ready to yell at him for disturbing your train of thought only for him to give you a pair of surprised eyes as if he remembered something.

“Get down, please,” Fushiguro quietly commanded, leading you to give him a deadpan expression before turning back to prepare to jump off since you couldn’t find another way to get down there, only for Fushiguro to pull you from your jacket once again leading your body to start to fall backwards - much to your surprise - to which caused the boys to immediately get behind you, ready to catch you so you didn’t hit the ground at all. 

“You drag!” you screamed at Fushiguro before letting your body fall towards the safe side of the metal barrier, processing to land on top of Itadori and Fushiguro as a result.

                                              ꕥ

Letting out a yawn, Itadori couldn’t help but emphasise how tired and bored he was as he remained seated on the metal railings that all four of you were sitting on right now.

“Hey, we didn’t find hide nor hair of any cursed spirit,” Kugisaki whined in annoyance as her posture slouch in disappointment, leaving Fushiguro to slouch in boredom while you had your eyes closed as if you were sleeping while sitting up straight when in reality, you were concentrating on sensing any lingering cursed energy around the area you were in right now.

Suddenly, you felt something pressed gently on the side of your head before it pushed you down to the side slowly, causing the movement to halt the second you felt someone’s shoulder being used as a pillow for your head leading a sense of confusion to rise within your stomach before you heard a few teasing sounds from Kugisaki.

“Oh~ what a gentleman Fushiguro~” Kugisaki teased, leading you to realise that your head was now resting on Fushiguro’s shoulder since it did seem like you had fallen asleep while sitting up.

“I’m surprised she can sleep while sitting up,” Itadori commented, as she leaned forward to see you in what seemed to be in a state of rest since you made the decision to keep your eyes closed.

“You should have seen her while we were training, she was asleep for so long every day,” Kugisaki mentioned as she began to recall all the times you had taken a nap during your daily training sessions with the second-years as preparation for the Kyoto Sister School Exchange Event.

                                              ꕥ

As time went by, after you had ‘woken up’ from your nap when in reality, you had given up on trying to trace a single amount of cursed energy from the distance you were away from the ground below - which was where you were trying to go from the beginning if Fushiguro didn’t pull you down - you were now in front of a small convenience store while sipping on a small carton of orange juice that you had managed to purchase as a breakfast substitute since you were surprisingly not feeling hungry at all currently.

“We didn’t sense any presences or residuals,” Fushiguro informed Nitta, who had come to pick you three up after not hearing a single thing from everything, except for all of you being hungry. 

“I see, which means this ain’t it, Guess it’s back to square one,” Nitta replied with a slight tone of disappointment as the most promising lead has been for nothing.

‘It wouldn’t be square one if you just let me jump down to the bottom to investigate…’

“Gojo, is there something wrong?” Kugisaki asked as she noticed you looking to the side with a somewhat annoyed expression planted on your face.

“It’s nothing,” you replied before taking another sip from the carton you were holding.

“But isn’t it bad if we take too long?” Itadori asked in a light serious tone.

“Why?” Kugisaki questioned, wondering why they needed to be in a hurry to finish the mission as soon as possible.

“Well, it’s a famous haunted location, right? There might still be plenty of others who got cursed and right now, the death rates at 100%. We don’t want to see others die, right?” Itadori explained as he answered Kugisaki’s previous question.

“True,” Kugisaki muttered, once she took Itadori’s theory into consideration.

“Ding-Ding! Bungee jumping was all the rage then, right? So maybe the act of jumping off is the key?” Nitta asked as she seemed excited to think of another clue on how to find the curses that were the curse for all these deaths that have been happening.

“Did she say “ding-ding”? Did she really say that?” Itadori asked as he stared at his senior in adoration.

“She did! She did!” Kugisaki replied in the same high tone with the same look at adoration at how cute Nitta was right now.

“Itadori already tried that,” Fushiguro mentioned causing the bungee jump idea to come to a halt.

“Huh?..... What?! You mean you jumped with that vinyl cord?!” Nitta screamed in shock as she began to imagine how you, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki would wrap Itadori in the cord, only for the shikigami user to fly kick him over the metal bar with you and Kugisaki holding onto the end of the cord.

“Hey, there you are!” someone shouted, causing you to look towards the direction in where the sound was coming from, only to discover one of the punks from yesterday to be on a bike with someone behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist.

“Fushiguro-san!” the punk shouted to gain the shikigami user’s attention.

“Who’s that again?” Kugisaki asked as she stared at the punk with a confused expression only for Itadori to answer her question by mentioning the people were Fushiguro’s upperclassman from his middle school and how she was ready to pick a fight with them causing her to suddenly remember who the person was.

“You were talking about Yasohachi Bridge, so...I’m really glad I found you here!” the puck mentioned with a smile on his face with slight sweat from the swift bike riding as well as a hint of fear of Fushiguro.

‘Fujinuma?...If I recall, she was a student as well…’ you thought, as you watched the girl get off of the bike she was on before walking towards the group as her eyes widened at you for a second before turning into complete confusion, leading your body to complete tense for a second.

“Fujinuma?” Fushiguro muttered causing Nitta to look at him with a perplexed expression before he clarified that she was an old classmate of his.

“My older sister,” the punk introduced the girl leading her to bow as a greeting.

“I’m glad you remember me,” Fujinuma stated in a soft-toned voice before straightening back up to face everyone within the group.

“I was talking to my sister about you yesterday, and..” the punk stated before his sister took the reins.

“Um, Morishita-san had a funeral in the neighbourhood...Then I heard from my brother that you were looking into that man and Tasohachi Bridge, so I started to wonder if they were related…” Fujinuma began to explain, leading Nitta from behind both of the people to shake her head as they needed to hide the real reason on why everyone was here right now to which Fushiguro noticed.

“If what’s related?” Fushiguro queried as if he didn’t understand what was going on.

“Morishita-san’s death and the bridge…” Fujinuma replied in a smaller tone.

“They’re not related, we just-” Fushiguro quickly countered back.

“I...I went there. In eighth grade...I went to Yasohachi Bridge at night,” Fujinuma stated as her face contorted in fear as she began to tilt her head down, causing Kugisaki to give a look as she began to wonder how many people had been to that bridge.

“Has anything odd happened at home recently? Any strange feelings that only affect you and no one else?” Nitta asked as she leaned down to face the fearful girl, only for Fujinuma to look up once again.

“My family runs a local branch shop...and the shop’s automatic door is wide open only when I come home. Mom and Dad both say it’s just a coincidence, but there’s definitely something there. It scared me. That’s when I heard about you and remembered the Yasohachi Bridge,” the girl replied as she began to shiver in fear while trying to recall all the same incidents happening to her.

“When did the issue with your automatic door start?” Nitta queried, trying to get enough information as sly as possible.

“It’s happened about every other day for exactly one week now,” Fujinuma replied in a shaky tone.

‘There’s at least two weeks between when the four victims noticed something and their deaths,’ Fushiguro thought.

‘We still have some time,’ Itadori thought, encouraged by the fact that there was some amount of time left to save someone from the cycle that was happening right now.

“You didn’t go to Yasohachi Bridge by yourself at the time, did you? Do you remember who you went with?” Kugisaki asked, trying to make sure there weren't any other victims that you all were missing at this current moment in time.

“Um, so this really does have something to do with…” Fujinuma mentioned in a stutter, scared that her life might now be at risk.

“Just with your automatic door. But it has nothing to do with Morishita-sans’s death. Fushiguro-kun and the others are helping me with my college report: Electromagnetic Waves from Haunted Locations and their Effects on Electronics, it’s a huge pain in my gut!” Nitta responded quickly, before suddenly linking arms with you causing you to put on a realistic fake smile to hold the lie in place.

“But I want to hear from all kinds of people, so I’d love to hear who you went with,” Nitta continued, trying to make the girl calm herself down while reminding her the fact that they now have to save her life before something could happen to her.

“I went on a test of courage with two others from my club. That’s right. Fushiguro-kun, Tsumiki-san was with us then, too,” Fujinuma announced, causing you to halt for a second while Itadori and Kugisaki were shocked at the fact that Fushiguro’s sister was involved in this too.

“I see. Then I’ll try asking Tsumiki, too,” Fushiguro replied calmly.

“There was also another person there at the bottom of the bridge, but I don’t remember really clearly of her at all...she was wearing our uniform thought, sort of reminds me of her,” Fujinuma stated as she pointed off to somewhere, leading your whole body to become suddenly numb at the fact that her finger was directing pointing at you causing your classmates to turn to you in fear at what might happening to you if her statement was true.

“Sorry, but I never been here at all, maybe you have the wrong person?” you unconcernedly suggested, trying to change you from being the topic of the conversation leading the girl to look confused again before gasping on how silly she was being before mentioning that she had never even met you and that she apologised for scaring you.

“Okay, then I’ll escort these two home. Please keep working on the report,” Nitta mentioned to the four of you with a smile on her face.

“Something’s up, isn’t it?” Fujinuma’s brother asked leading Nitta to form another excuse on how she could let them ride a bike back after making them petal all the way here, causing you to turn around and take a deep breath the second they began walking away.

“Fushiguro,” Itadori called out in worry before repeating his name again louder as he proceeded to grab onto his friend’s shoulder, only to see the look of unknown fear painted across Fushiguro’s face.

“Fushiguro, snap out of it, make sure she’s safe first,” Itadori muttered in reassurance, as he turned his body to face his friend to help him calm down.

“I’m fine,” Fushiguro muttered in a low tone, once he was able to snap out of his fear daze but apologising to his friend as he needed to take a step back for a second before reaching into his pocket to grab his phone to make a call leaving Kugisaki to come to your side and ask a few questions for you to answer.

“What was she talking about? Were you really a part of that school? Were you really at Yasohachi bridge back then? Answer me, Gojo!” Kugisaki asked in a panic, as you just stared at her with a blank look on your face before letting out a sigh.

“I’ve never been there before until yesterday, I have never been here at all, to begin with. There is no way I could be at that bridge,” you answered, trying to convert the conversation into something different, only for Itadori to turn his body to face you directly as he questioned you again about your ‘involvement’ in everything that's happening right now.

“Why are random people saying if they remember you then, does your cursed technique allow you to manipulate someone’s mind or anything?” Itadori asked as he needed to understand why a few people mentioned about you when you had said you have never been here at this location ever in your life.

“I don’t have a technique that does that, they have been talking about a girl that looks like me,” you answered while proceeding to cross your arms to stay as persuasive as you could while trying to hide a piece of your past that you had already somewhat erased out of everyone’s minds.

‘If they are somehow recalling some bits here and there...what about Fushiguro?’ you thought as you closed your eyes to lessen the headache that was gradually coming from the back of your head.

‘There isn’t enough time to think about it at all...these three need to get out of here before I go investigate the whole thing myself...that is...if my theory is correct like last time’

Suddenly, you reached into the pocket of your skirt before taking out your phone to swiftly call Nitta to pick everyone up from where she had left all of you causing Itadori and Kugisaki to look at you in complete confusion.

                                              ꕥ

“Just get in the car,” you commanded in a low and threatening tone, causing the three first-years to look at you in shock before all three were pushing down into the back seats of the car.

“Us three? What about you Gojo?” Itadori asked in a panic, as he wasn’t sure why you were pushing everyone into the car that Nitta was pulled in - to which she understood why you were doing this at this moment in time.

“The mission has gone into a higher rank than what it was previously predicted, I’ll come back once I’m done with the whole thing,” you stated in a serious manner as you processed to push Itadori further into the car causing Fushiguro and Kugisaki to be squashed behind him before slamming the car door shut before anyone could escape out of the vehicle leaving you alone once the car had driven off with all three of your classmates inside of it.

                                              ꕥ

‘If I remember, you go down here’ you thought, as you began to slide down to the bottom of the ground before walking forward out of the wood, to only find yourself in the same spot you were two years ago in a different sort of uniform.

Taking your katana out of the shoulder bag you were carrying, you hooked it on your lower back before taking the familiar blue metal pole out of the same back before hooking it on to the side of your belt causing it to dangle once it was secured onto your side.

‘If my theory was right along, there should be an incomplete domain lingering around here...meaning there is a possibility that Sukuna’s finger is within a finger bearer if I enter it…’

“What a drag,” you muttered under your breath before sliding your katana out of its wooden sheath as you swift swang it behind you, causing the tip of the blade to be an inch away from Itadori’s neck to which lead the sorcerer to lean his head back in shock as your sudden speed.

“Why are you all here? Didn’t I tell you all to go home and I would deal with this?” you rhetorically asked as you pulled your katana back from Itadori leading him to relax as he let out a breath of relief.

“Fushiguro told us everything and that's what led us to help you out,” Kugisaki mentioned causing your eyes to shift from her to the shikigami user.

“We don’t want you to do this alone, you don’t have to tell us everything you are hiding Gojo, just let us help you,” Itadori pleaded with you as his hands were pressed together in a way to convey a ‘please’ to you.

“I...I can’t tell you anything...I’m sorry,” you muttered, as you slide your katana back into its black wooden casing, causing the trio to look at you with worry in their eyes as they were anxious that the secret you were keeping was something that was going to eat you inside as they were already cautious about your wellbeing if the cursed spirit was now going to target you due to Fujinuma sudden assumption.

                                              ꕥ

After the sudden intrusion of your classmates (much to your dismay), everyone started to walk towards the area where everyone believed the domain was going to be.

Crossing a river or other border - acts that symbolise crossing into the afterlife - carry important meaning in sorcery.

Confidently, everyone took one step forward causing a reaction of electricity to conduct as your foot hit the ground causing it to erupt as the domain suddenly enclosed everyone that had taken a step within its territory.

“There it is,” Itadori stated as he stared up at the curse, leading everyone to prepare themselves with their weapons of choice.

“This one will be rewarding to exorcise,” Kugisaki commented, as she confidently smiled at the scene in front of her.

Suddenly, you had sensed something coming from behind causing you to turn your head to the side to find a disgusting looking creature coming towards you leading everyone to move away slightly as the creature spun in the air before landing in front of all of you.

“What’s this? Someone beat me here?” the creature asked in a weird voice.

“Huh?” Kugisaki yelled out in annoyance.

“Fushiguro, this one’s a different case, right?” Itadori asked as he faced the new cursed spirit that decided to make an appearance.

“Yeah,” Fushiguro confirmed, leading Itadori to close his hands into a fist as they suddenly became consumed with his cursed energy.

“Then you three focus on that other one, I’ll exorcise this one,” Itadori stated as he raised his hands.

“What? You’re going to play with me? I wanted the older sister to,” the curse asked, causing you to shiver as you came to the sudden realisation that this curse was most likely with the others that were at the Kyoto Exchange event.

However, before even one could even move you rapidly unsheath your katana from your wooden casing as you spun around to block the sudden sneak attack that was behind you before utilising your cursed energy to your legs to give you the strength to halt your movement as the sudden intruder in front of you widened their eyes in shock at your sudden speed.

“That isn’t going to work on me again, you drag,” you muttered in a menacing tone causing your new opponent to laugh as they snapped out of their shock.

“Please, call me your mother again,” the woman stated as she smirked at you, leading a wave of anger and excitement to consume your body.

“Please, I….can’t wait to kill you,” you replied back with a crazed smile.

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

[mercy-burning]

Win Me Back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to town, he finds a way to make amends— with a little help from her niece.

Category: FLUFF

Warnings: None other than a few swears :)

Word Count: 3k (I barely made the limit, folks, that was hard lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my entry for @homoose ‘s 2k Celebration!! And if this fic seems familiar, that may be because it’s a re-telling of the car-wash scene from Ramona and Beezus 🤭😂 It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, it never fails to make me squeal, and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!

Also! I tried very hard to find the scene for you to watch incase you haven’t seen the movie, but the ones I did manage to find on YouTube cut out THE BEST PARTS, so I’m sorry 😭 But in case you want to know the ~vibes~ I tried to capture and don’t feel like watching the movie, I made THIS post last night with some dialogue/background from the scene if you’d like to read it! Obviously it’s not required since what I’ve written is quite different, but it is encouraged 😊

I hope you like it!! And if somehow you haven’t followed Moose yet, you should! She’s the sweetest ❤❤❤

***

Y/N found an abundance of upsides to taking neighborhood walks with her niece. For one thing, it gave her a distraction, something to focus on as she made sure eight-year-old Piper wouldn't wander too far from the sidewalk. She found solace in quizzing her on the multiplication table as they made their way around the block, an activity in which Piper enthusiastically flaunted her love of numbers.

It was also nice to stay outside and take in the warm sun and soft rustling of the trees, though every once in a while all of it wasn't enough to keep the memory of Spencer at bay.

After all, it was kind of hard when he was back in town, and after all these years he was reaching out to her like he hadn't broken her heart in the first place.

"You seem sad, Auntie," Piper said, grabbing Y/N's hand as the turned the corner.

Y/N swung their arms together gently, smiling down at her with a tilt of her head. "Why d'you think that, hon?"

Piper gave a little shrug, her ponytail blowing softly behind her. "You don't smile as much. And you always smile when you're with me... And you asked me the same times equation 3 times in a row just now. You're distracted."

Y/N couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. You sound just like Spencer... Instead, she told her, "Aw, I'm sorry, Kiddo. My mind is just in a... confusing place right now. But I'm very happy that you got to come stay with me this weekend, you always brighten my day." She punctuated her sentence with a little boop on Piper's nose, to which she giggled and asked for another math equation.

The two of them continued around the block a few rounds, though on their fourth and final one, Y/N noticed very familiar car parked just outside her house.

Heart jumping into her throat, she stopped in her tracks, and Piper kept going only to be pulled back slightly. The girl turned to her aunt and furrowed her brow. "Auntie, why did we stop?"

"Um... I just wasn't expecting any company today besides you..."

Y/N certainly wasn't ready to discuss everything that was going on with Spencer to anyone, let alone her eight-year-old niece who wouldn't probably understand or care anyway. So she explained it the best way she could, quickly coming up with a plan to avoid him as long as possible.

"See the car parked over there?" Y/N asked, and Piper nodded. "Well, that's an... old friend of mine... And we haven't talked in a long time because we don't really get along anymore. So when we get up to the house, he might try to talk to us, and I'm going to tell him that we're busy."

"He's not mean, is he?"

Sensing Piper's reservations, Y/N reassured her while letting her own contempt for her ex fuel the conversation. "No, but... He broke my heart. And he—"

"Y/N... Hi..."

She nearly jumped, mostly from surprise, but also at the fact that hearing her name coming from his lips and his voice and just him brought back a flood of feelings she'd rather have forgotten. Still, she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Spencer... Hi."

Piper suddenly let go of Y/N's hand, a small scoff escaping her. "Oh. Spencer..."

The two adults turned to look at her with surprise, though it was Spencer who spoke up. "You... know me?"

"Mhm," Piper returned with a nod, crossing her arms. "I heard Mom and Auntie talk about you yesterday, and she says you have a stupid, beautiful face."

"Piper!" Y/N screeched, heat rising to her face. "I... You can't tell people that, I— That's not... I..."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Auntie," the little girl said quietly.

Y/N was fully prepared to dig a hole and stay buried in it forever, and her embarrassment grew even stronger when Spencer spoke up again. "It's okay," he reassured gently, a small laugh sounding from his throat that regrettably gave Y/N butterflies. "You're auntie's definitely right, I do have a stupid face."

Before Y/N could stop the conversation altogether, Piper cut in quickly, being sure to add, "And beautiful."

Spencer's eyes flicked up to Y/N, drawing her in with amusement and charm, a fact which she hated to her core. Because it was working, and that was annoying as hell. "Yep," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "And beautiful."

And then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, flashing her the most amused, stupidly perfect smirk.

Piper started talking again, and for the second time that day, Y/N wished she hadn't even said anything at all, keeping this whole situation to herself.

"But we can't talk to you, because you broke Auntie's heart, and we're busy. C'mon, Auntie. Let's go." Piper grabbed Y/N's hand and led her up the rest of sidewalk until they got to the driveway. And even though it might have been childish to completely ignore Spencer as they walked past, not giving him a second glance, quite frankly she was quick to abort the situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Spencer was persistent.

They were almost to the steps up to the door when he called out. "Piper! Can I ask you something?"

The little girl turned around, losing grip of Y/N's hand and greeting his gaze without batting an eye. "Sure."

Damn kids and their willingness to be nice to strangers, Y/N grumbled in her head.

"I know... your auntie is an important person to you, right?" Spencer inquired, walking up the driveway with his hands in his front pockets. Y/N swallowed, most certainly not noticing how the sun perfectly highlighted him in a glow that made him look more beautiful than stupid.

Piper nodded.

"Well... She's important to me, too. And I really hurt her feelings, but I want to make it up to her. Would you be kind enough to let me try?"

Damn him, Y/N grumbled yet again. Damn him, damn him, damn him to hell... Why was he so charming?

He'd always known that kids were a soft spot for her, and when they'd dated, they talked a lot about having some of their own  one day. Every time they took a walk in the park and they passed a kid, they always gravitated to Spencer, giving him the biggest smiles, and in turn he would give them a high five or perform a little magic trick to make them smile even wider. And Y/N melted into a damn puddle every time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, using Piper as a means to win her back, but even still, she knew that because of his gentle nature, most of it was... well, nature. Deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that he was a kind person. They may have ended things on bad terms, sure, and Y/N could pretend he was cruel all she wanted— The truth was that no matter how their relationship ended, he was a good man at heart.

And that's why it hurt so much.

Y/N thought for sure Piper would fall into his web, but she was pleasantly surprised when the girl responded with, "I don't know... I don't know if I trust you yet."

You and me both, Kiddo, Y/N thought to herself.

Spencer laughed again. "That's fair. Look, you can say no, but... How about I give you something in return?"

"Spencer, that's no—"

Piper crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, interrupting Y/N before she could finish protesting. "How much we talking?"

"Piper!"

"Well, I was going to offer to show you a magic trick, but I suppose I could work you a deal... I only have a hundred bucks on me, would that be enough?"

Sure enough, Spencer pulled a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket, and the young girl's eyes went wide. Y/N's did, too, but more likely than not it wasn't a means of excitement.

"You have yourself a deal!" Piper squealed with a jump. She ran over to take the money, meanwhile Spencer looked up at Y/N with a smile.

She didn't return it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked softly. Kindly.

"Well, I'm babysitting Piper today, so you'll have to come back another time," she returned a little coldly, hoping that she and Piper had just scored a free Benjamin to pig out on ice cream while Spencer was left waiting forever for a conversation that was never going to happen.

Funny how eight-year-olds always had a way of making things more difficult for you.

"Auntie, Spencer and I made a deal. He gave me money, and now he has to make it up to you. Remember?"

Y/N groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember..."

"Well, how about I... take you guys out for lunch? My treat? If it's alright, we can go to McDonald's..."

"The one with the play place?" Piper gasped, immediately turning to Y/N. "Oh, Auntie, please can we go? Please, please, please?"

She looked up at Spencer, shaking her head in exasperation as he smiled at her, those sparkling honey eyes reeling her in whether she wanted them to or not. Then she turned to Piper and sighed.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

***

Y/N was surprised Spencer didn't try to talk to her more on the drive over. Though, Piper did most of the talking, telling Spencer about how much she loved numbers and math, and he even quizzed her on some multiplication equations on the way.

If she wasn't so annoyed with him, Y/N would have melted completely.

It was the getting into the restaurant that worried her the most, though. She knew that once Piper ran off to play while they waited for their food, he would spend whatever short amount of time he had trying to win her back. And she was afraid of two things, mostly that she would end up crying in the restaurant, making a scene and wishing she'd never agreed to go, no matter how heart-broken Piper might have been. But there was also a small part of her, nestled deep into her heart, that was afraid she'd fall for him all over again.

He certainly made falling easy.

When the three of them stepped into the restaurant, it was easy to see how excited Piper was to be there. She gently tugged on Y/N's sleeve before looking up at her. "Nuggets, fries, and Sprite?"

"Apples, too, and you've got yourself a deal," Y/N said.

Piper nodded, not really caring but eager to go and play. So she sighed and nodded, leaving her with a, "Be careful!" as she saw the girl quick-walk over to the play area. There was a decent crowd that day, but thankfully no one in the restaurant seemed to have any grievances or knacks for trouble.

Spencer on the other hand... Y/N scoffed to herself, thinking how he was the most troublesome person in the area.

He proved her point by nudging her with his elbow. "She's a fun one."

"Yeah, she's somethin' alright," Y/N grumbled. "I can't believe you bribed her just to talk to me... If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were being romantic. But I do know better, and you're just stubborn."

Spencer laughed, but she refused to look at him. "Aw, come on, give me some credit. You know I can be a little of both."

This time Y/N did look at him, squinting in a glare, like she was contemplating. "Eh... five to ninety-five. Leaning in favor of stubborn, of course."

"Obviously." The amusement in his voice made her hate his stupid, beautiful face even more than usual.

Thankfully he kept the conversation short after that, at least until they ordered. Since it was Spencer's treat, she milked his wallet for as much as she could afford to on fast-food. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake and enough food for her and Piper to share for dinner later— and probably lunch the next day, too. The amused chuckle Spencer let out as she was ordering did have her believing maybe she was being a bit childish. But the longer she thought about it, the more she stood by her actions.

He did break her heart after all. The least he could do was compensate through chicken nuggets and French fries.

The only thing she didn't count on, though, was how long it was going to take to make all her food, not to mention getting things done for other people. As she and Spencer made their way to the table, she realized she'd have to talk with him longer.

Spencer took advantage of this, naturally.

"So... How've you been?"

Y/N scoffed. "You show up out of the blue five years after you break up with me, and then have the nerve to ask me how I've been, in a McDonald's? Yeah, I've been great."

He sighed, his eyes flitting down to the table. "I know, I'm... I'm sorry. And I know I should have—"

"Spence, please don't... Look, I know... I know why we broke up, and I came to terms with the fact that your job was just to dangerous for us to be together, but... I mean, you weren't even willing to work it out, you just... ran away. That hurt."

"Y/N... I'm so, so sorry that it happened that way. I think about it almost every day and how much I wish I could have changed it..."

"But you can't change it. And now you... you show up here after all this time to—to what? Win me back? Use your kindness and your charm to reel me back in, like that'll somehow make everything better?"

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, the sight almost breaking her. "Maybe..."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, Spence, because I do... I've dreamt about the day you'd come back and apologize, begging me to take you back... But I can't get hurt again. And you have to understand that."

"I do... Just..." His hands reached out across the table, gently touching hers. The feeling sparked something in her, something nostalgic and warm...

Something that felt a lot like home.

He was going to continue his speech, but a knock on the glass separating them from the playroom on the other side jolted them apart. It was Piper, a stern look on her face. "Don't try anything, Mister... You're still on thin ice."

She turned away then, running back to the slide when Spencer sighed. "I thought we had a deal."

Y/N laughed, nodding at Piper through the glass. "Even a hundred bucks and free food isn't enough to win someone's trust." Spencer looked over at her and waited, visibly swallowing. But Y/N flashed the smallest of smiles before finishing, speaking quietly, yet with all the truth and firmness in the world. "You have to work harder than that."

"Duly noted," Spencer replied, his gaze never straying from hers. "Looks like me and my stupid, beautiful face have some work to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as Spencer grinned like a fool... A stupid, beautiful fool. "Oh, alright... You know what... If you weren't paying for my mountains of food and giving me a ride home, that thin ice you're on would have just shattered under the weight of that comment."

"Oh, come on, it was funny."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Yeah, it was."

He stared at her, smiling until her forced frown slowly and reluctantly transformed into a smile of her own.

***

"Thank you for lunch, Spencer! And for the hundred dollars!" Piper skipped past him and up the driveway, stopping to turn and wave with her Happy Meal toy in hand. Y/N was carrying a bag of leftover food and half a milkshake, her stomach already regretting every choice she'd ever made.

"You're welcome, Piper," Spencer said, smiling at the girl. "And thank you for letting me get a chance to set things right with your auntie. You really helped me out today, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just don't break her heart again, or I'll break your stupid, beautiful face. It'll turn into a stupid, ugly face then."

Y/N mentally face-palmed herself, turning to Piper and telling her to go inside and wash up. The girl gave Spencer one final wave and a smile as she did so, leaving the adults alone once again.

"Thank you..." he said quietly, shifting on his feet. "For giving me a chance. I really want to make things right with us... Make up for the way I hurt you, and... try harder. You deserve that much."

Years of heartache and trying to get over him begged Y/N not to believe it, but deep down she knew he was being truthful. He wasn't the type of guy to come around like this—especially with all the work travel he did—just to manipulate her into heartache again, with empty promises and hurtful intent.

She knew he was really willing to try to make things right, and that was a big start.

"Thank you... for saying that... And for making Piper's day. I know you didn't really mean to bribe her, but the fact that you did it anyway is absurd, so... I guess I have to give credit where credit's due."

Spencer laughed, and this time Y/N didn't hate the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the sound. "Well, I'm glad I could at least amuse you today. Does... this mean my romantic to stubborn ratio shifted a little bit?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Hmm... twenty to eighty."

"Still leaning in favor of stubborn, I suppose..."

The smile they shared in that moment felt more like the ones they used to share back then, officially kickstarting the slow, meticulous mending of their love.

"Obviously."

***

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