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andtheyreonfire · 9 months

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wake up where the clouds far behind

Ao3

Word Count: 7,025

An: less than hour left for g/t july in my timezone :) i had a lotta fun with this, hope you enjoy!

Somewhere over the rainbow

Way up high

There’s a land I’ve heard of once in a lullaby

Somewhere over the rainbow

Skies are blue

And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true

Someday I wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

Really. It should be Mona, or maybe Ann, or even Akechi—as long as that asshole’s working with them, he might was well contribute. Him and Ren’ve always had a weird way of understanding each other. Ryuji’s head is too far up his ass for this to work. Ask anyone who knows him!

—But Ryuji’s here, because life is a bitch. And—they told him to just hand it to Ren directly but, fuck—

“Hey,” Ryuji says, jogging up the stairs. Every creak rings like a gunshot. “I got that magazine you wanted.”

Ren glances up from his homework to shoot him a confused look. If Mona was here, at least Ryuji’d have backup. Some insurance would be nice. But the cat’s with Ann and Futaba, no doubt poured over their supplies. Probably a bag of snacks, too. As it is, Ryuji’s entire plan consists of sticking his foot in his mouth and hoping he doesn’t choke on it.

“Magazine?” Ren rasps.

“Yeah.” Ryuji coughs, shuffles closer to Ren’s desk. It’s neat, organized; not a single scrap of paper is out of place. Completely free of any bits, pieces, or spare parts. Ryuji slides the issue of Sprint onto the desk, prays Ren won’t notice it’s from last week. “Remember? You wanted to see how that one arc of Death Beat ended. It’s pretty good, lemme tell you. Real kicker.”

He sounds like an NPC. This is the stupidest thing he’s ever done in his life. Ryuji coughs again. They ain’t even in flu season but—when’d it get so dusty in here? Ren gives him a sort of confused squint, before nodding and uttering a single, “Thanks.”

Ryuji waits for more, for Ren to the continue the conversation, for the perfect icebreaker to fall on his head, but nothing comes. For lack of a better plan, Ryuji claps his hand on Ren’s shoulder. His heart sinks at the flinch it earns him.

“Look, just—” Ryuji’s hands are cold, clammy, ready to grasp a weapon before anything else. “Just give it a look tonight, okay? If you have any thoughts, you can text me ‘em. I’m here for you.”

Ren shifts to look at him fully. His brow is furrowed. Something’s wrong, he’s realized, but—

He slumps down, nods, and turns back to his homework, muttering a quiet “okay” and a goodnight.

And—alright, Ryuji’s delivered his cargo. He can leave now. He should leave, now.

He hovers, examining Ren’s tired, languid posture, the uncaring haze over his eyes. He looks washed out, striking monochrome faded to dull grey. If Ryuji’d met him like this earlier, he never would’ve guessed that this boy was the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

“...G’night, bro,” Ryuji says, before turning on his heel and all but throwing himself down LeBlanc’s stairs.

He prays, prays, prays, to whatever god is up there, that Ren has the strength to at least read the ticket to his jailbreak.

Where troubles melt like lemon drops

And way above the chimney tops

Is where you’ll find me

Somewhere over the rainbow

Bluebirds fly

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why, then oh why, can’t I?

Red stains Ryuji’s shoes, his gloves, the bodies of 9 thieves, sprinting down what he could only wish was Mementos’ labyrinths.

It sure as fuck could be mistaken for that. The dungeon is as blood-red as the bowels of Mementos. Only—where maroon veins pulsed juts signs and warnings. Where concrete and rot crunched beneath their feet lies soft velvet. Where doorways and treasure and shadows arose are now jail cells, spanning to the ceiling and impossible to count. They all know which cell they’re looking for, anyways.

Queen leads the charge. None of them are as well-rounded as Ren, but they’d agreed she’d take the lead if something happened. They also agreed to try their damndest to prevent that situation from arising—but, well, life’s a bitch.

They’re forgoing stealth. It wouldn’t matter, anyways, with the klaxon alarms blaring in their ears. Path of least resistance is the fastest, after all. The ache of Ryuji’s leg is doing nothing to distract from the stress budding in his stomach.

The shadows in here were a hell of a ride, the Thieves found. They could range anywhere from a level 2 Pixie to a Fafnir the most busted moves known to man. Apparently, they originated from someplace called the Compendium, but no one’s been as successful as Joker was in weaseling info from them. Now, Queen calls to take wide angles to avoid them.

Finally, they reach the end, too stressed to take stock at the nearest Saferoom like they usually do. A massive, blood-red door spans before them. Oracle fishes out the key they acquired.

“I can sense R…the Treasure beyond that door,” Mona says. “No going back. Are we ready?”

A hum of affirmation. Queen steps forward. “As we’ll ever be, I suppose. Let’s do this.”

They enter the gate.

The inside is smaller, barely large enough for all nine of them to fit. Ryuji’s too busy trying to squeeze into the cell to notice the 10th member before them. It’s only when Violet lets out a sharp gasp that he looks up.

Before them, curled tight on an iron prison bed, is Ren. Ryuji freezes when sharp, yellow eyes snap up to meet them.

“You came.” Even in the tiny room, Ren’s voice echos. Palace rulers’—and it hurts, it hurts, to think about him that way, but that’s exactly what he is—voices are usually overlaid, but Ren’s is singular. Powerful, with the way it reverberates in their ears, but singular.

“Of course we did, dummy,” Oracle says, as if her body isn’t tensed to run.

Ryuji looks back on the group. A variety of expressions stare back at him. Fox and Noir wear matching faces of determination. Violet looks conflicted. Disgust paints Crow’s face. Queen looks unsure, eager to fight than for the inevitable conversation they’re about to have. Mona just looks sad.

Panther’s expression matches Ryuji’s own: he feels like he’s gonna throw up.

“I didn’t think you would…” Ren continues, shifting his head to rest on his knee. The striped, worn material flashing like a warning in the red light. “It’s quiet in here, y’know. There’s never been anything of note beneath the mask.”

They wait for more, but Shadow-Ren only stares into the wall. Queen clears her throat. “Ren…how did this happen? Why do you view yourself as a prisoner?”

Shadow Ren shrugs. “Because I am. Of fate, of my masks, of Japan’s silly little justice system. I’ve always been trapped. I always will be.” He folds into himself. “Nothing’s ever going to change.”

After a beat, he stands up. He doesn’t attack, doesn’t do anything but stare into them. “Our influence as Phantom Thieves is limited to the present moment. We’re a passing memory, a hapless trend.” His movements are sluggish, strained, but surprisingly lifelike for a shadow. “We can fight and struggle for that ‘perfect society’ all we want, and we’ll never obtain it. We’re just a bunch of kids playing dress-up. Our ‘justice’ has always been meaningless.”

“Our lives are testament to the opposite, Ren.” Noir says. “You’re a testament to the opposite. We have made change.”

He pins Noir with a yellow-eyed glower. It’s the most passion Ryuji’s seen on him since he started his monologue. Just as quickly, he deflates. “You know more than anyone, Haru, that it’s the system itself that allowed our targets to come into power. It’s the system that will allow others to take their place. Whatever we do will just as quickly be overwritten. Call it society, call it human nature. It’s a shitty cycle that’s made us its prisoners. Maruki had a point—”

Ryuji takes one look at Crow’s expression and blanches. Violet puts a hand up, stepping between them. “I don’t think it’s wise to finish that sentence, senpai.”

Shadow Ren shakes his head. “I wasn’t saying he was right. He opened my eyes, that’s all. He overhauled reality completely, and it worked. He abolished Japan’s free will, sure, but he came farther than we could ever dream to.”

“So what is the meaning of this palace’s distortion?” Fox tilts his head. “The Ren I knew would’ve done everything in his power to prove your words wrong. Surely you haven’t lost your rebel spirit completely?”

“I—” Shadow Ren hesitates, a million emotions flickering across his face. Finally, he settles on a blank mask, eyes just as dead as Futaba’s shadow. “I’m so tired. It’s exhausting, to fight day in and day out for a future we’ll never be able to achieve. It’s easier to close your eyes and drown it all out. You—can’t burn yourself out if you never try, right? It’s better to just stand down, and accept our fate.”

For a moment, no one speaks. Ryuji’s blood boils, pops. He swings an arm wide, ignoring Panther’s shout as she ducks under it. “Bullshit! You tellin’ me we shoulda just kept our heads down and let Kamoshida ruin our lives? You tellin’ me we shoulda just let Shido run over us with his big fuckin’ ship? You’re spewin’ the same piss the shadows in Mementos were!”

And Ryuji should—stop, probably. Let someone who knows how to diffuse a situation talk Ren’s shadow down, but—it’s something about seeing the person who made him who he is, who reached out his hand and asked are you going to sit there and take this? do just that. Ryuji can’t tell if it’s the palace or his own anger that’s staining his vision red. “I never would’ve expected this from you, man!”

He should stop, but Ren’s shadow is silent, peering at him with an oddly interested gaze. So, he doesn’t. “We defeated Maruki ‘cause he was a delusional asshole who, if you took away the savior complex, was just as bad as the other assholes we defeated. That’s it! Just—don’t you remember how we started?”

Ryuji has Shadow Ren’s full attention. “We formed because we wanted to take back power from king asshole. Society was the last thing on our minds. Then Madarame happened and Kaneshiro and Medjed and—you’re right. We were just kids playing dress-up. But then we—then you shot a god in the face. Twice. We’re not that way anymore. We’ve changed!”

“What’s your point?” Ren’s shadow snaps, and Ryuji kind of wants to hug him but also really wants to strangle him until he gets a clue.

“We have power, dude. We did change society! Even if no one realizes it, that just means we have a fuckton more time to prove it. Fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all for not realizing the truth. But the Metaverse still exists, which means our time ain’t over yet. We can change this shit. You should know that, you’re the strongest out of any of us.”

“I…” Ren’s shadow looks confused. “I have power?”

“You do. Don’t think I didn’t see you summon some crazy-ass shit. You probably coulda defeated some of the later palace rulers on your own, or used the metaverse to your advantage at any time—”

“Ryuji,” Mona warns. Ryuji ignores him. He’s close, he can feel it, if the faint crackle of the air is anything to go by.

“C’mon, man.” Ryuji reaches out a hand. The shadow—fuck, he can’t think of him that way. This is Ren, even if he’s balls-deep in a subconscious prison—only stares at it, considering. “You’re bigger than this.”

Ren raises his hand.

Ryuji beams, body aching to move and give him the bro-hug he deserves, but Ren’s hand lingers. It ghosts across his thumb, before pushing it down, slow but firm. He can feel the chill through his gloves.

Ren shakes his head, giving a smile. William flares in the back of Ryuji’s mind. “You’re right. I am more than this. There’s so much more to—this. I guess I didn’t see it before.”

He blinks, languid, and when he opens his eyes they’re a pure, blazing gold. “Thank you for showing me the truth, Skull.”

Ryuji’s smile drops. “Wait, why’d you c—”

The air crackles, forcing itself into the tight, strained space. The pressure builds, swells. Ryuji can ozone and bitter syrup on his tongue. Whatever—this is, it’s building near Ren, inside of him.

All at once, it stops.

Oracle’s voice crackles in his ear, “Guys! Back the FUCK up--!”

The pressure explodes, a boom echoing across the tiny, enclosed room. Ryuji splays an arm across his face as he stumbles back. He tries to open his eyes, but all he sees is a sea of red dust.

An arm wraps around his waist and jerks him back, the familiar lurch of a grappling hook scrambling his insides. He coughs. It isn’t until he’s a good distance away that he catches sight of the red leotard holding him—Panther, of course—and Ren’s cell fading into the background.

Ryuji sways as Panther stops to set them on a ledge. He groans, clutching his head. “What—”

“We’ve triggered his boss fight!” Futaba’s tinny voice sounds in his ear. “He’s still transforming!”

Blearily, Ryuji registers a few other forms joining them on the ledge. He barely manages to get his feet under him when the world shakes, shifts, and—

The wall in front of Ryuji explodes, parting like a curtain, to reveal a giant, blood-red glove.

It’s taller than him. Just barely, but it seems to be growing. It’s reaching towards them, bits of rubble sliding off as it inches closer, closer, closer—

“Gorokichi!” Fox screams, and a physical attack crashes into the massive palm. The hand stops, long enough for Ryuji’s instincts to kick in and launch a grappling hook. He looks back just in time to see some thieves trailing behind him, and to see the hand wrapping around the ledge they escaped. It crumples like Styrofoam in its grasp.

“Mona!” Panther’s voice is high-pitched, winded, crackling beside Ryuji and in his ear. Ryuji shoots out another hook, a symphony of tumbling stone behind him. “What the hell is doing on!?”

“I don’t know!” Mona’s voice responds over the earpiece. He’s just as panicked as Ryuji feels, meaning he probably saw whatever—that was, too. “Wild cards aren’t even supposed to have shadows! I can’t predict what it’ll do next!”

A piece of ceiling nearly caves Ryuji’s head in. He swerves around it, gritting his teeth. Queen’s voice crackles in his ear. “We need to regroup! Get to the roof of the other building!”

Ren’s palace was split into two halves. One comprised of wide, open spaces, decorated with sprawling, stained-glass windows. A massive panopticon, the outside reflecting whatever they projected. The other—the one that housed the treasure room—was a penitentiary: closed, winding, and damn-near impossible to navigate. They needed keys from both halves to open another door, which provided them with the key to Ren’s cell.

Right now, the open, multi-colored windows of the panopticon make the perfect beacon. Ryuji hits the floor with a roll. He eyes the still-drawn drawbridge they had to use to cross—the river between the halves was more sludge than water, and Futaba couldn’t find any alternate routes, which meant a buttload of fighting and a severe security increase—and readies his hook. He can already see some of the others on the roof.

—And can hear the palace crumbling behind him. Ryuji kicks his legs faster, aims, and as soon as his feet touch the drawbridge, he launches clean over the water and onto the roof. Panther, Fox, and Noir land beside him.

“God, Ryuji, what did you do?” Panther groans, sprawled out like a starfish.

“What the fuck! I was just talkin’ to him!” Ryuji flails his arms in the direction of the other building. “I didn’t mean for him to go apeshit!”

“Fighting will get us nowhere—” Queen grounds out, healing them both while helping Panther to her feet, “—Considering we are actively in the middle of combat. Oracle, what’s Ren—what’s the shadow doing?”

“It’s bad!” Oracle’s voice cracks with panic. “He’s gaining power by the second! He’s almost maxed out, but that doesn’t matter when the palace is about to—!”

A sudden, deafening boom shakes the earth.

Ryuji throws his arms in front of his face. Wind whips at him, rubble and smoke pooling into his lungs. He coughs, eyes watering, looks up to find—

A massive, blood-red glove, followed by a sleeve as dark as night, protrudes from the roof of the second building. A second glove reaches upwards, knocking over towers, clawing past prisons, reaching up, up, up, towards a sky as red as itself. Ryuji can only watch as the hands grasp around the biggest spire, brace themselves, and pull—

A titanic, familiar head of hair joins them. Ryuji’s stares into the giant, unmasked face of Joker, of their leader, of Ryuji’s confidant and closest, deepest friend.

Joker’s blazing, golden eyes lock onto their little group, each probably as big—no, bigger than Ryuji’s skull. Even after facing Adam Kadmon, after Yaldabaoth, Ryuji has never quite felt so small.

Joker grins, unnaturally wide and knife-sharp, and begins to walk through rubble, through stones and tower and brick, towards them.

Oh, right, they’re in the middle of a fight. Trying to steal the heart of their leader. Against a hostile shadow that’s taller than Wakaba Isshiki’s.

“Shit,” is all Ryuji has time to mutter, before a wall of the second building falls. Its shadow falls over them, and they’re forced to make a leap.

Ryuji flails, barely managing to activate his grappling hook in time as the wall crashes down behind him. Queen’s voice crackles in his ear, “Fight! We CANNOT lose here! Keep your guard up! Skull, Violet, Mona, follow my lead! The rest of you, scatter!”

Ryuji follows her behind one of the tower’s spires. They’re close, too close to Joker’s shadow, but, shit, any stealth would help in this situation. Ryuji tries to imagine hitting the shadow, or it hitting them, and blanches. Violet lands next to him in a heap. “Is there any weaknesses? Anything we can hit him with?”

“No weaknesses! Shit-ton of HP, SP, and resistances! Attack and defense off the charts! Do NOT get hit by him! I’ll see if I can find a way to debuff him—!”

The tower sheltering them lurches. Ryuji cranes his neck back, only able to watch as a giant, gloved hand steadily crushes the tower in its grip. Joker’s massive head peeks around, assessing them like one would a pile of ants. Ryuji’s probably, barely the size of his finger.

When Joker’s gaze lands on him, he pauses. Ryuji’s blood prickles under that massive, golden stare. His voice reverberates across the ruined palace, “I see it now, thank you.”

Ryuji’s mouth, as it often does, runs faster than his brain. “See what?”

“My true power.” Joker’s voice echos bigger, louder. He sweeps a hand across the air. “I’m capable of so much more! This world couldn’t contain me if it tried. I’ll be unstoppable, powerful, big.”

His gaze narrows, and Ryuji’s blood freezes. “Without anyone standing in my way.”

Joker reaches forward. The shadow of his hand envelops Ryuji, his blood-red fingers blotting out the sky. They curl, slightly, reaching towards him, ready to grab—

A swirl of black and red pushes Ryuji to the side, and he has the perfect view to see Sumire’s form disappear. Joker’s fingers close around her, stop, and squeeze.

Her unconscious body emerges a few seconds later, and Ryuji can’t catch the extent of her injuries before he’s yanked away, again, as Diego pulls him off the ledge. Mona screams, “Violet’s down!”

Ryuji’s fingers find his earpiece. He shudders, letting his body sink into the freefall. “Is—is there anything we can do to damage him?”

“I don’t know!” Oracle screams back. “I’m looking! Keep him distracted!”

“Crow!” Panther says. “Have you ever—”

“Do you think I’d still be alive if I’d ever encountered a shadow like this?” Crow’s voice crackles in his ear. Ryuji can hear his sneer—and a round of fire. “Fuck—!”

Ryuji finally shoots out a grapple. He flings himself up, catching the tail end of Crow emptying a volley into Joker’s face. Noir’s situated on a ledge, her rocket launcher smoking. Joker stares down at them like someone would a dirt on a duvet.

Ryuji lands on a ledge, next to Queen. Even behind her mask, the hopelessness on her face is clear as day. She doesn’t know what to do. None of them do. They need a leader.

They need Ren.

But, well, Ren is currently wading through a building like it’s ocean water. Ryuji watches as Fox attempts an ice attack, only for him to be slammed into a tower, Gorokichi disappearing as he crumples like a puppet with its strings cut.

Panther’s voice crackles in his ear. “Oracle—!”

“I got it! The first building!” Ryuji follows Queen’s line of sight, into the massive, open panopticon. The stained glass warps its insides into a kaleidoscope of light. “It’s large enough to hold him! If we destroy the internal structure—or he does—the rubble might stop him in his tracks!”

“Won’t we get crushed, too?” Panther asks.

“It’s the only way! Lead him in there and target the pillars! He’ll fit inside no problem!”

Queen gathers herself, voice hard in a way that’s so, so close to Joker’s. “Rodger that. Panther! Oracle! You’re with me on luring him inside that building! Noir, Skull, and Crow, head over to the building and use your strongest skills on the interior when I give the signal. Mona, I need you to wait outside until we’re done. You’re agile, but there’s no point in healing if he can one-shot us. Revive us only after he’s immobilized. Everyone clear?”

“Clear!” Ryuji stutters out, to a chorus of the same in his ear.

“Let’s go!” Queen screams, and drops down to fire a nuclear attack in Joker’s face, before darting away. The skill doesn’t make a scratch.

Skull does what he’s told, keeping one eye on the group behind them. For their credit, Joker seems to be taking the bait. He pounces like a cat, making precise, lightning-fast grabs at whatever thief darts in front of him. For their credit, they’re able to dodge him, just as effectively as he’s able to destroy a tower in a single swipe.

Even so, none of them are aerial fighters. Ryuji is painfully reminded of that fact when an attack hits too fast for Queen to dodge, burying her under a heap of rubble.

“Shit—” Skull hisses, lurching back for her—

Only to be dragged forward by Noir. The girl’s eyes are hard, stalwartly not looking back. “Remember the plan. Panther and Oracle are almost here.”

Ryuji grits his teeth, falling into swing with her and Crow. The light splintering off the stained glass of the panopticon nearly blinds him.

They duck into the entrance—the glass is bullet-proof, a fact they found out after they first failed to cross the moat—and perch themselves on the highest level. It’s the most stressful 50 seconds of Ryuji’s life. Finally, Joker approaches. He steps clean over the moat, lurches forward, and smashes through the stained glass. Oracle’s ship barely manages to escape his fingers.

Okay. Mission success. They made it. Ryuji wraps his fingers around his mask, prepares to pull—

Only to throw himself off the ledge as Joker’s hand nearly crushes him and Noir, having crossed over to their side of the room in less than 3 seconds. Because they’re in an enclosed space with an enemy who is 150 feet tall.

To their credit, Joker doesn’t have that much space to move. He doesn’t really need room, when he just smashed through bullet-proof glass like tissue paper. He crushes the balcony in his fist, Panther narrowly dodging both it and the ensuing explosion. A rictus grin stretches across his face. Ryuji shudders.

“Herewald!” Crow screams, which is as good of a signal to start firing. Their first attack goes off without a hitch: his, Crow’s, and Noir’s strongest physical attacks shaking the building to its core. It doesn’t fall, not yet.

Joker wheels on them, eyes alight, and lunges, forcing them to scatter. They find their masks, and attack again.

The cycle repeats, dodging Joker’s attacks while aiming for the building containing him, since if it hits him it doesn’t do anything. Oracle buffs them when she can, while Panther keeps up a rapid-fire stream of healing. They go in circles, having to stop and switch to more running when Joker starts to catch onto their plan.

But for every hit they give, they take two more. Rubble rains as the panopticon falls. Shadows run out to see what the commotion is and begin to fire at them, Joker’s stamina remains high as their own deteriorates. One by one, they begin to fall. A pillar lands on top of Noir, smashing through both her and through the massive windows. Oracle takes a critical hit from Joker—which, fuck, can she even be revived? Ryuji finds he doesn’t have time to worry when he’s tagged in the back by a stray Garudyne, and lands in a heap on the floor.

Joker didn’t notice, which is great, because he would probably be crushed under his boot if he did. His teammates probably think he’s dead, which sucks, because the edge of Ryuji’s vision is starting to blur. He groans, trying and failing to drag himself to his feet. They always need a minute to recover after getting knocked down, but—they’re so close, they just need—

Crow howls, destroying one of the pillars just as a shower of rubble buries him. Panther aims for one of the few remaining pillars—there’s two, only two, since Joker’s destroyed the walls already. They’re so close--and promptly disappears behind a closed fist.

And suddenly, it’s just them. Just Joker panting, letting Panther’s unconscious body fall from his hand. Just two targets, and Ryuji barely, barely has enough health to tag both of them. Just the ice-cold fear that permeates his entire body, just the pounding of his own heart.

Ryuji hauls himself to his feet, channels every bit of phantom thief in him, and moves to duck behind a pile of debris—Only to trip on a few scattered bricks. He lets out a strangled curse. The sound echos through the ruins of the panopticon. Ryuji curls into himself behind the pile, squeezing his eyes shut.

He opens his eyes. He’s not—eviscerated, which means Joker didn’t hear him. Which means he still has a chance. Ryuji breathes a sigh of relief—

Booming reverberates from Joker’s direction, rhythmic in a way that could only be footfalls. Ryuji clamps a hand over his mouth. The footsteps—if they can even be called that—draw closer, and Ryuji jumps to hide behind a fallen pillar, about 10 feet away.

He peeks around the corner, watching Joker grind his heel into Ryuji’s former cover. He starts to look around—and Ryuji follows the side of the pillar, crouches behind it, just as those steady earthquakes draw near. He waits another few seconds, before darting behind a pile of rubble, this one situated farther on.

The clatter of marble echos through the panopticon, and Ryuji watches only enough to see the tip of the fallen pillar be lifted up, up, up. He exhales, shaky, and takes the opportunity to dart closer to one of the remaining pillars, the one that is so, so close.

The other is across the room. He’ll definitely alert Joker when he destroys the one nearest to him. That’s fine. He’s fine. Everything is fine.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Joker’s voice booms, accompanied by a spray of stone, no doubt him crushing the solid, marble pillar in his grip.

Everything is not fine. God, Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

He isn’t equipped for stealth. He’s loud, obnoxious. He’s fucked them over with his big mouth more times than he could count—be it through Makoto, Akechi, or the countless enemies he’s alerted over their career.

He imagines Ren as he moves forward. Silent as a cat, even in heels. Able to duck around corners in the blink of an eye. He keeps his body low, like Ren does. Moves only when he knows the coast is clear. He steals glances when he can, channeling Ren’s calculated stealth.

“I know you’re here,” Joker sings, voice reverberating through Ryuji’s body, each syllable a pounding drum.

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

He wields electricity, sure, but he doesn’t compare to the literal storm behind him. How could he? When Joker’s voice rumbles like thunder? When every footfall rings like a clap of lightning? When he leaves complete, utter destruction in his wake? Ryuji’s strong, sure, but Yusuke and Haru and even Akechi have always hit harder. They should be the ones to deal the finishing blow.

He doesn’t back down, because he imagines them, too. They wouldn’t let their fear get the best of them. They would keep pushing forward, no matter the danger, no matter their heartbeat pounding in their ears, no matter the hard, iron knowledge that they’re going to die—

“Where are you hiding, little mouse?” A crash. A rumble. A spray of stone. Ryuji barely manages to suppress a flinch.

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this.

He failed Joker during the shadow talk. Fucked it up, because he handles situations with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He failed his teammates because he’s the last one standing, left watching his hiding spots explode with every step forward. He failed Ren, because he’s his bro and he didn’t notice something was wrong until it was far, far too late.

He’s so close.

“You’re testing my patience,” Joker growls, the sound going straight to Ryuji’s spine.

The pillar is 6 feet away, if that.

His footsteps boom closer, stopping just behind Ryuji’s hiding spot. “Do you actually think you can hide, little one?”

He grips his mask.

“The show’s only just begun,” Joker murmurs, close, far, far too close.

Ryuji shouldn’t be the one to do this, but he is.

He will not fail Ren again.

“William!” Ryuji bellows, and watches the first pillar explode in a cloud of dust. He doesn’t even have time to feel the recoil when a massive shadow envelops him. He throws his grappling hook out. The tip of Joker’s glove brushes his leg as it connects, latching onto one of the last remaining ledges.

He throws himself forward, Joker’s footsteps booming behind him. Sweat pools on his brow. The panopticon groans around him. A rumble, a sound like Joker snarling, fills the air.

Ryuji rips his mask off, screaming. He can feel the weight of Joker’s outstretched hand, not 3 feet behind him. He screams, “GOD’S HAND!”

The pillar explodes. The panopticon groans. The recoil from the attack flings Ryuji through the air, past Joker’s hand and body and towards the glorious, glorious hole Joker made on his way in. His vision wavers. Every movement is agony. Ryuji makes one last grapple to sail through the air and out the gap.

He turns around just in time to see Joker, lunging forward, golden eyes ablaze—

Before the place crashes on top of him, in an explosion of sound, dust, and pained, howling screams.

The fight leaves Ryuji like a gust of wind. He drops down onto one knee, body a tight, hot rod of pain. He hacks, dust twisting in his lungs. In front of him, Joker’s massive face peeks out of the rubble, twisted in agony. Pinned next to him is his hand, frozen in a grasp.

Ryuji grimaces. Yeah, he’s not moving anytime soon, but—fuck.

A shower of tiny, green lights wash over him. Ryuji’s pain fades to a dull ache. He whips around, almost colliding with Morgana. His bug-like face is set into something grim. “…Mission success. I’ll go look for the others.”

Ryuji hacks up another lung. He gestures, both to the destruction and the titanic, prone form before them. “Can ‘y even heal everyone?”

“It’s the Metaverse. I think I can, so I can.” Morgana shakes his head, grappling into the ruined building. Joker’s eyes follow him. He pauses, still close enough that Ryuji can hear him call back, “Just...keep an eye on him until then.”

“Ugn,” is all Ryuji can muster in response. Fuck, this place is a mess. There’s not like—long-term consequences for destroying the structure of someone’s psyche, right? Or, rather—he makes eye contact with Joker, unable to stifle a full body shudder. Are there long-term consequences for destroying your own psyche?

Joker doesn’t answer his thought-question, only continuing to stare. He’s heaving, each breath ruffling Ryuji’s hair like a gust of wind. His eyes are half-closed, his face is set in a grimace.

With nothing better to do, Ryuji sits cross-legged in front of the massive, trapped cognition of his friend, and waits.

Soon enough, Yusuke joins them—and the relief that crashes through Ryuji when he sees him is palpable enough to taste. “Shit, man, good to see you.”

“Likewise.” Yusuke frames his fingers around Joker, frowning. “I take it you’re the one who dealt the final blow?”

“Yeah. Fuck. Fuck, never again. Are the others…y’know.” He gestures. “Alive?”

“It won’t be long before they join us.” Yusuke adjusts his fingers, frowns deeper as he takes in Joker’s form. “Not to worry.“

After a beat, Yusuke hums. “…It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Trapped under the ruins of your own ambition, having only wanted to break the chains that bound you. For such a thing to be made manifest is humiliating.”

Joker doesn’t make a sound. He only looks away, the glare of his eyes dimming. Ryuji huffs. “Man, you don’t pull your punches, do you?”

Yusuke blinks at him. “Considering we are often locked in fatal combat with shadows, that would be ill-advised.”

“Not what I meant, dude.”

They sit in silence. It isn’t long before the rest of the thieves join them, trickling in every few seconds. First Akechi, then Sumire, then Makoto and Haru, then Ann, before Morgana and Futaba join their group. The center of attention is obvious, even if he seems to be avoiding eye contact like his life depends on it.

They’re checking over each others’ injuries, sparing glances at Joker every few seconds, when a quiet, monotone rumble fills the air. “I am pathetic, aren’t I?”

Joker’s gaze is fixed on the distance. Without the weight of his stare, Ryuji can almost, almost breathe. Joker continues, “All I wanted was to fly free, as you all did. You soared so high, you were able to break the chains that tied you down, yet I…can’t.”

The last bit of rubble sets around them. Haru clears her throat. She steps forward. “I almost didn’t. I was completely trapped under my father’s influence. I believed I would’ve served him for the rest of my life. It was you who showed me that there was more to life than what my father wanted, that I could grasp my freedom myself.”

“It was the same for me,” Sumire says. “I just wanted to escape, to be someone else. After what happened with my sister, there wasn’t any point in…being me. Than I met you, and the Thieves, and I felt like a person again. I became someone who my sister would’ve been proud of. Although…” She hesitates. “Throughout my journey, I only wanted to be someone like you. You’re so…”

When words fail her, Makoto steps in. Joker’s gaze swings over to her, and she hesitates for only a second. “Leading is so, so hard. I’m amazed at how you’re able to keep your cool. You’re one of the strongest people I know. During this infiltration, I was only copying what you would’ve done. You’re the glue that keeps us together, and you inspire us, in such a unique way. But…it’s for that reason that I apologize, for all of us, for not noticing anything was wrong before it was too late.”

Joker’s attention is lazer-focused on them. Futaba creeps forward, having ditched Al Azif after claiming it was too claustrophobic. “I know what it’s like to be trapped inside your own stupid brain. I—I thought I’d be stuck in the mental backrooms my entire life—”

“Bro—” Ryuji starts.

“Can it, Skull! This is how I cope.” Futaba fidgets with a strand of hair. “Just…I know what it’s like to be hopeless. And even after my heart change, I was still kinda…” She hurries when the group stares at her. “But—but the Thieves gave me something to live for! There was nothing more badass than changing lives, the way we did. Unlike with Medjed, I wasn’t alone. I had everyone, and I had you.”

After a beat, Ann steps closer, close enough that Joker could reach out and grab her if he wasn’t pinned. To his credit, he doesn’t move. There’s a ripple of panic nonetheless. Her voice is steel. “What do you think my life would’ve been without you? School would still be hell. I wouldn’t have found a purpose. Shiho would’ve never gotten justice. We’ve made change before, dummy, and we’ll do it again. Metaverse or no, I think we’re still capable of great things.”

“Indeed.” Yusuke adds. “The world is our oyster. There will always be a new adventure in the future, even if things seem hopeless. If you’re burnt out, there’s nothing wrong with taking a rest. We’ve made quite the change for one lifetime, correct? Though, I’d imagine you’d be amiss if things ended the way that they are.”

Everyone looks over to Akechi, who scoffs. He picks at the edge of his gauntlets, avoiding eye contact with the group. “You succeeded where I failed. You brought down my father. For that I am…eternally grateful. I’d rather not repeat what I’ve already told you in private, but I take it you remember our promise. And…” He hesitates, before speaking, every word stilted as if they were pulled out with pliers. “You have…something special here, with them. You’d—do best not to lose it.”

Morgana waddles up next to Ann. “There’s a reason the Gods chose humans as their champions, and why they chose you as the wild card. Humans may be tempted into despair, but you have such a strong will of power. I should know, I’m the embodiment of human hope, after all. You created me, because you decided to fight for me, for the world. Just know that…I’ll always be here to fight for you, too.”

Finally, Ryuji walks forward, stepping past Ann. Fuck, Joker’s massive. But—painted on those titanic features is pure, unadulterated vulnerability. Ryuji steels himself. “You, uh, didn’t let me finish earlier, man. You coulda gone apeshit at any time—but you never did! You were always there for us. You put your own shit aside for us, like, all the time. Like Makoto said, you’re the strongest person I know. You let us lean on you for—everything.”

Should he—punch him, or something? No, dumbass, you don’t hit a guy when he’s down. Ryuji rests his hand against his cheek, giving a grin when wide eyes—bigger than his head—lock onto him. “I want you to know you can lean on us, too. We’re here for ya, through—well, anything. Always will be.”

“Oh,” comes a familiar, quiet voice behind them.

The Thieves whip around. There, is Ren, clad in sweatpants and a plain, grey shirt. He’s normal-sized, eyes their natural, human color.

Makoto recovers first, face splitting into a soft smile. “You’ve been standing there this whole time, haven’t you?”

Ren nods, eyes wet. He walks forward, hands in his pockets, marveling at the scene before him. Ryuji backs up as he approaches Joker. The cognition only stares back at Ren, something like warmth in his gaze.

Ren ghosts a hand over Joker’s cheek, as if mapping the expanse of it. Joker’s eyes close, a faint light beginning to surround him. “I guess I lost sight of things.”

“We meant every word,” Futaba says. “We’re here for you, dummy.”

“...I know that now.” Ren’s voice is so, so quiet. None of them dare to overpower him. In the first noticeable change they’ve witnessed, Ren scrubs at his face, and admits, “I’m sorry, I’m not good with words.”

Ryuji walks forward and claps him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m not either, and you still keep my sorry ass around.”

Yusuke clears his throat. “I believe what Ryuji meant to say is that we understand. No need to worry.”

“Just—” Ren’s voice breaks. He reaches out a hand, laying it flat on Joker’s forehead. The cognition’s eyes close, at peace. “Thank you. For everything.”

A million tiny lights swarm around them, and Joker’s form begins to fade. He breathes out, one giant, measured release of breath, before fusing into Ren’s body. The rubble sets in his wake.

Ren’s Thief outfit re-appears in a burst of flame, adorned with glittering, silver highlights. He turns back to the group, a teary, hesitant smile on his face.

The Thieves crowd around him, touching him whenever they can. Ryuji slings an arm around his shoulder, while Yusuke marvels over the new additions to his outfit. Makoto begins to corral them into the Monabus, and Ryuji leads them into the middle row, in the center of their friends. It’s almost like nothing’s changed.

And yet—Ren’s leaning his full body weight on Ryuji, answering questions honestly, without hesitance. His walls are down, and he lets the Thieves pass through them, taking their comfort and ears and love.

Phantom Thieves or no, they’ll stand by him, and Ren accepting that fact is all the peace Ryuji needs.

#g/t #p5 g/t #persona 5 g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t fanfiction #g/t july #gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #day 31: free day #my writing #palace au

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dellyduck · 1 year

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Traffic Court

Thanks to @kaderp, I have been down into a Pixar Cars rabbit hole for the past week.

She came up with the idea for this Cars X Ducktales AU (where the characters are still ducks, they just drive cars, thank you very much), and well, I simply had to rewrite at least one scene from the first movie into this AU.

I have lots of fun writing it, just like I’m having fun developing this AU with Kader in general, so if any of you are interested in reading, I hope you guys enjoy this “little” scene ^-^

“Radiator Springs’ traffic court, come to order!”

Dewey was used to crowded places; being the center of attention, having people screaming and yelling at him – it all came with the fame, and he normally adored all that.

However, when the courtroom’s doors shot wide open and the eight or nine people who lived in that town started getting on his face for the mess he had caused, Dewey never wished a “crowd” would ignore him so bad.

‘I don’t know what’s worse,’ he thought grumpily, as Launchpad continued pushing him through the people and to the front of the room. ‘This, or that tent of old hicks yesterday.’

Nah, this was worse. At least yesterday, Drake was there to drive him far away from those bumpkins as soon as his contractual presentation was over. With these bumpkins right now, he was stuck.

Launchpad forced him to sit on the accused’s chair. All the other seats on the front were empty, included the judge’s, and the only other person in that part of the room with him was the short yet with a fierce gaze woman that had arrested him in the first place.

Said fierce gaze didn’t intimidate Dewey in the slightest – they couldn’t really touch him there, not with him being who he was and them being a bunch of nobodies.

“Officer, talk to me babe, how long is this gonna take? I gotta get to California pronto.”

“Where’s your lawyer?” The sheriff ignored him.

Dewey rolled his eyes, “Uh, I don’t know- Aruba, maybe. He has a timeshare there.”

“If the offender has no lawyer, the courtroom will assign one for them,” quoted the sheriff, lowkey looking as tired of Dewey as he was of this place. She looked to the audience of nine people, “Anyone want to be his lawyer?”

Immediately and collectively, the town pulled their chairs one step behind. Everyone, that is, except Launchpad.

“Gee, I’ll do it, Sheriff Cabrera!” The man shrugged, looking by no means bothered by that outcome. He joined Dewey on the accused’s table and the sheriff spoke again.

“All rise. The honorable Doctor Scrooge has arrived.” Her eyes fell on Dewey again, and she added only to him, “May Doc. have mercy of your soul.”

The Duck boy gulped, that so sure feeling that nothing bad could happen suddenly nowhere to be found.

The court’s doors shot open once more, “Alright! I wanna know who’s the responsible for wrecking my town.” The voice with a tick Scottish accent was as strong as the heavy steps that followed into the room. “Sheriff, I want his head on a platter. I’m gonna put him in jail until he rots. No, scratch that- I’m gonna put him in jail until the jail rots!” The angry man got to the podium and to the judge’s chair. “Then on top of that jail I’ll put another one until that jail rots. I’m-”

His voice died as soon as his eyes fell on Dewey; or more precisely, on the dirty racing clothes that the twenty-some years old boy was still wearing. On a shift, the expression of the old man in red hardened in a way that Dewey couldn’t help but shrink a bit.

After a long instant of quietness, the judge spoke again, “Throw him out of here, Sheriff. I want him out of my courtroom, I want him out of my town!” And to prove that his decision was final, “Case dismissed!”

“Yes!” Dewey was practically beaming. He expected this whole quadrille to be quick, but one single second? That’s what he called doing things in the Turbo Duck style.

He could hear the town’s citizens complaining behind him, but for the young racer they were as much white noise as Launchpad’s more pleased reaction, “By the Darkwing, looks like I’m really good at this lawyer stuff!”

Nothing in that place mattered anymore – he was free. And promptly after he stepped outside this building, he was going to hit the road and get to California, where he was supposed to be.

No one was going to stand on his way any longer.

“Sorry I’m late.” For a third time, the courtroom’s doors were opened, this time followed by a feminine, calmer voice.

Dewey turned his body to glare at whoever was delaying his moment of freedom- but all his annoyance flew down the drain as soon as his eyes took on the figure that had just arrived.

“Holy ebony…” Dewey found himself saying under his breath.

In fact, the soft ebony hair, descending in a long cascade, was the most prominent thing about that young woman. Which just made her more attractive when combined to her delicate face and that simple yet elegant spring dress she was wearing. A dress that, while not revealing by any means, still flattered her form very much, if he could say so.

Now the question was: what was a high-class, sane-looking babe like her doing in this carcass of a town?

“She gotta be from my attorney’s office,” It was the conclusion Dewey got to. Of course, somehow his agent had got a hold he was here, having “problems with the law”, and since his attorney really was away, they sent someone else. That made perfect sense. Just as the woman approached the front of the room, he activated his charm and called, “Hey, thanks for coming but we’re all set. He’s letting me go.”

“He’s letting you go?” She arched an eyebrow at the racer. It passed unnoticed by him how she stopped herself from sitting beside the other citizens when doing so.

“Yeah, you got lucky, your job’s pretty easy today,” Dewey laid back on the chair, his eyes taking their sweet time to admire her up and down. “All you need to do now is stand right there and let me look at ya.”

The woman’s expression was slowly morphing from confusion to a mix of incredulity and annoyance, but the young racer didn’t seem to notice because he kept talking.

“Listen, I’m gonna cut to the chase: you. Me. Dinner.” And now to the killer move - Dewey flashed her a half smile, with a click of the tongue and a wink, wrapped altogether by the finger guns.

She still said nothing, her face deadpanned. What was there to say, really, to such an arrogant asshole?

However, that was not how Dewey understood her silence, “Out of speech? I get it, I get that reaction a lot. But don’t worry, there’s no reason to be intimidated…” He gave her a side look. “Unless you want to be~”

“Oooo-kay,” The woman finally spoke - even if just to make him stop – with a forced smile. “I’m gonna go talk to the judge now.”

“Do what you gotta do, princess,” he sent another wink her way. Before letting her go, though, Dewey bended forward a bit, his voice losing smoothness as he warned only her, “Oh, but be careful. Folks around here don’t have their pins screwed all the way, if you know what I mean.”

As if to prove his point, he pointed with his head to Launchpad, who was right now trying to mimic Dewey’s finger guns move to his own reflection on the window.

The woman’s smile grew forced. So not only was the guy who wrecked their town an arrogant asshole, he also felt no remorse insulting the people who lived there? Oh, he had something else coming.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said back to the racer. Turning then to the redhaired man, her smile became more real. “Hey there, LP.”

‘Wait, what?’ Dewey blinked away in surprise. He didn’t know what shocked him more, the fact that his supposed attorney knew that guy, or the way Launchpad casually answered her back, with a cheerful, “G’morning, Emily!”

And as if that wasn’t confounding enough, the woman – Emily – quickly turned to the rest of the people in the room, “Hi folks.”

Just like launchpad, everyone returned the greeting amicably and casually, some also saying her name. As if she was a close friend who they saw every day.

Laying closer to Launchpad, Dewey questioned, “You know her?”

“Of course. She’s the town hotel’s manager… and my fiancée.”

“WHAT?!” Okay, lots of weird things were happening since last night, but that-?

Luckily, the universe hadn’t gone crazy, and Launchpad started crackling at his face, “Gotcha! Nah, she’s like a little sister to me. But I gave ya a pretty good scare, huh?”

While Dewey shot his “lawyer” an ugly stare, Emily reached the podium, looking up to the old, grumpy duck that was their town’s judge slash doctor. And he looked especially grumpy right now; shoot, she should’ve brought some baking goods with her. Well, her sweet smile would have to do.

“Good morning, Doc. How are you doing today?”

“Civils stay behind the fence unless they’re going to testify, Emily,” was Scrooge’s pragmatic answer, probably already sensing she wanted to ask for something. She really should’ve brought some sweets.

“I know that, I’m just passing by to say hi.” She feigned innocence.

The old man arched her a brow, “Very well, then: hi. Now go behind the fence with the others,” and before Emily could retort, “Actually, you may as well go home, since we’re done here.”

“Oh, come on, Doc,” Emily dropped her smile, a more serious and upset expression now, which caused Scrooge to haut before he stood up from his chair. “Are you really going to let him get away with it that easy? At least make him fix what he broke.”

“No way, I know his type. Car racer,” Scrooge pronounced the words like they were an insult. “Believe me, the sooner he gets out of here, the better.”

“But the town needs the road. And since he’s the reason it needs fixing, why not?”

“Emily, this case’s closed.” If he had his cane in hand, he’d knock it on the ground to make his point. “End of story.”

But by the way the girl simply looked at him, not seeming defeated at all, Scrooge feared it wouldn’t be the end of the story.

“Okay,” Emily started. “I didn’t want to do this, Doc., but you leave me no choice. Fellow citizens and friends!” Spinning on her wheels, she addresses the rest of the room loud and clearly, “You are all aware of our town’s proud history.”

“There she goes again,” Scrooge sighs to himself.

“Radiator Springs: a little piece of heaven built up with hard work and hospitality, by all of you, by our community,” Emily continued her speech passionately as she approached the audience. “It is our job and our pleasure to take care of the travelers who pass by our home while crossing the glorious Route 66.”

“Travelers? What travelers?!” raged Donald.

“Ignore him,” Fethry cut his cousin short, allowing the dark-haired girl to continue.

“But how, I ask, are we to care for those travelers if there is no road for them to drive on? Panchito, José,” Emily addresses the two men and partners sitting on the front roll. “What do you sell in your store?”

“Fashionable haircuts!” exclaimed Panchito, showing off a scissor from his pocket.

“You sure do,” Emily smiled at the answer, even if it wasn’t the one she was looking for. “But what’s your main business, what do you have the most at your store?”

“Tires,” this time it was José who answered with pride.

“And if no one can get to you guys?”

“We won’t sell any… tire…” the parrot’s smug smile fell at that realization, and it didn’t really help when Panchito hugged him in desperation, adding, “We’re gonna lose everything!”

“Mary!” Emily now turned to a woman in her early 60s, whose gray hair had only traits of the light blonde it one day possessed. “What do you sell at your store?”

“I sell breakfast, lunch, dinner, and gas. But especially gas.”

From another part of the room, Launchpad burst into laughs alongside Mary’s own husband, and the two women give them an annoyed look. All of that because the word “gas” had been said? Seriously?

“Okay boys, stay with me, please,” Emily asks them, before talking to Mary again. “And what happens if no one can come to your station for any of those things?”

“I’ll go out of business and… we’ll have to leave town,” the older woman admitted with sadness, looking at her husband in distress. The man was definitely not laughing anymore.

“And what will happen to all of us if Mary has to leave town and closes her business?”

That seemed the right thing to ask, because immediately hurried exclamations started being shared among the town folks.

“We’re all gonna starve!” screamed Launchpad.

“I mean,” Donald started. “Others here know how to cook, but we'd be stuck here forever without being able to fill our cars’ tanks.”

“And no more Mary's pancakes!” The redhead was pulling his own hair at the idea.

“So,” Emily’s voice was strong enough to gather everyone’s attention back on her. “Don’t you think the person responsible should fix our road?”

“The only person strong enough to fix that road is Big Al!” commented the oldest person in that place, a senior woman who couldn’t be less than 80.

“Elvira, Big Al died fifteen years ago,” Mary’s husband, Jamie, explained to her, causing Elvira to look at him like he was the one going senile. “Then why are you bringin’ him up?”

“Oh, he can do it.” For the first time since her speech started, Emily’s eyes fell on Dewey. There was no warmth in those green eyes for him, just a fire to defend her home and her friends. “You all saw his car. That thing has horsepower more than enough to get the job done.”

Dewey instantly felt his blood freezing. What had his car, his precious baby, to do with anything?!

“So, what do we want him to do?!”

“FIX OUR ROAD!” All the citizens echoed together.

“Yes! Because we are a town worth fixing!”

While the others cheered in excited agreement, Emily turned back to Scrooge at his podium, a victorious smile in her face as she simply shrugged. Scrooge released a heavy sight before screaming for order in the courtroom. Once everyone was quiet again, he paused his eyes on Dewey once more before passing them across each one of his friends.

“It seems…” the old man started, hating himself in his resignation. “That my mind has been changed for me.”

The town folks cheered once again.

“No!” Meanwhile, Dewey was groaning. If looks could kill, the glare he shot at Emily would’ve blown the woman up, especially when she looked back with that coy smile. “I am so not taking you to dinner anymore.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Goggles,” the nickname made his cheeks grow red, Dewey didn’t know if with anger or humiliation for her making fun of his racing goggles. “You can take Bessie instead.”

“Oh boy, you’re gonna work with Bessie!” Launchpad suddenly exclaimed, nudging the racer with his elbow. “I’d give away half a leg to be in your place.”

And against his best judgement, because Dewey knew he wasn’t going to like the answer, he asked anyways, “Who is Bessie?”

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libby250 · 1 year

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LONG RANT INCOMING!!!

Warning: to all the people who instantly react to any criticism to a man with “NoT aLl MeN” there is a bit of man-hating (well deserved mind you) in this post. If that bothers you, DON’T READ IT.

I was recently on TikTok because I was bored and I came across this comment on a video about a women who’s boyfriend was super sweet when she didn’t want to have sex and said she never had to feel bad about saying no to him (AS ANY MAN SHOULD).

I'm making this here because tiktok has a word limit on comments.

But SURPRISE SURPRISE men came flooding in her comment section about

“A true girlfriend would say no”

“If she keeps saying no I’d just leave”

“No I’d just leave”

And the last one made me sick

A dude openly admitted he like to r*pe his girlfriend/hookup. “Saying no and fighting only makes it more fun. I love it when she keeps saying no” 🤬🤮

But I wont go into those because I would be blocked off this app so fast.

But the one that got me was in the comment section of the current video.

Some asshole commented that “most men in jail are born to single mothers”

FIRST OF ALL, do you know how expensive it is to take care of a kid? Most people are still living paycheck to paycheck with dual incomes. Can you imagine how difficult it would be to care for a kid on a single income?

THEREFORE, some of those men in jail probably ended up there because they stole food to prevent their family from starving or stole medicine so their sibling or mother would live for another month!!

And why are those kids living off a single income? BECAUSE the SPERM DONOR ran off because he was too much of a COWARD to stay and be a real man and raise his kids!!!

But sure, blame the ONE parent who stayed.

Whoever thinks it's okay to shame single mothers for being single mothers because men won’t stay to support them and the baby (parasite) they impregnated inside them, I SPIT ON YOUR SOUL AND HOPE YOUR BODY ROTS IN A LANDFILL BECAUSE YOU’RE NOT WORTHY OF BEING BURIED IN THE EARTH!!!

And for those who are instantly responding “that’s too harsh” “not all men are like that” “you can’t generalize like that” FUCK OFF! Don’t even fucking think about following or communicating with me!!

Like every generalization, there are always exceptions. And instead of blaming the women who stand up for themselves, try blaming the men who give other men a bad reputation.

#feminism #stop shaming women #stop shaming single mothers #society is fucked #men are fucked up #might delete this later

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sortasirius · 2 years

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r u going to watch the winchesters?

Hello! This is going to be a long winded answer because I talk too much lmaoooo

tldr: no.

Look, maybe it will be good. Maybe it’ll be an interesting look at Dean manipulating the story to make it his own, whether that’s in heaven (I think so, from the KAZ plate), or on earth. Maybe the characters will be interesting and dynamic. Maybe it’ll be fun and new and different.

Hell, maybe Cas will make an appearance (I doubt it, but who knows?)

But there is nothing, nothing on this earth that is going to get me to watch a John Winchester redemption tour. I don’t care if it’s all Dean’s false narrative, I don’t care if it’s not real, I don’t care if he’s funny and goofy and a “good person” in this show, I don’t care because I saw the aftermath of the abuse he inflicted on his sons for fifteen seasons.

I saw the way Dean’s face twisted when he talked about Flagstaff, when he talked about Stanford. I saw the way Sam looked when he talked about his father.

I saw the way he got angry at Bobby for letting Dean play catch, how he missed Christmas, how he left Dean to “rot in jail” when he was stealing food for Sam. I saw him put everything on Dean’s shoulders from the time he was four years old.

Dean says it himself: “My father was an obsessed bastard! I didn’t deserve what he put on me!”

They say in Supernatural, more than once, that John abused Sam and Dean. Even if the abuse was never physical, it was certainly emotional, certainly neglectful.

And sure, he lost Mary, but as Dean says, the marriage wasn’t perfect until after she died.

John is not three dimensional. He never has been. He’s flat, a villain that’s compared to the devil himself, and Jensen always seems to forget that.

I don’t care who John Winchester was, I care about who he became, and there’s nothing Jensen Ackles and Robbie Thompson can do to make that character palatable to me.

I hope the show is good, I hope people enjoy it, I wish that I could say I’d watch it for Dean, but I just…can’t. Because there were so many stories they could have told that didn’t have anything to do with John Winchester.

#anonymous #lilly answers #spn #dean #spn prequel

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lovecolibri · 1 month

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SaL anon here my friend to wish you Happy 911 Eve!! I know I've been AWOL for literal months and I apologize, I blame my psyche activating hibernation mode combined with obsessive deep diving into the RWRB fandom (I highly recommend it if you have time, no repulsive characters being treated as besties and a minimal amount of treating half the ship like they should be eternally grateful the other half even looks at them). But I really wanted to come out of hibernation to celebrate the return, particularly since the chaos generated by Mr. Guzman has been insane. And, I'm sure it won't be all sunshine and roses (even with Tim back at the helm, which I thank all available deities for), but at the worst you haven't had much chance to flex those salt gremlin skills recently so this could be a prime opportunity!! At best, well I still remember the rule, at all costs don't get your hopes up, that way disappointment lies. Still though at least the boys, the show, and the brain rot is back, let's enjoy!!

Oh my god, hiiiiiiiii!!! Seeing this just ABSOLUTELY made my night! I'm so glad you've found some peace and joy! I'm not like, deep in the fandom or anything, but RWRB is a fave book of mine and I adored the movie, it was SO much fun! I've been throwing myself full force into Dimension 20 and having a great time watching improv outshine scripted TV in every way from character development to hitting emotional beats, to narrative payoff.

I was super trying to just put 911 into the background and try and watch casually (HA! My neurodivergent brain could never), but WOW has this week been a LOT. Someone put Ryan back in PR jail for a couple weeks, damn! He's out here stirring up the pot and having a great time getting to have scenes with his bestie again and that's great for him, but HELL for us! I'm also excited to see Tim back (and touted as sole showrunner 🤭) as he's always been good at balancing the cast and keeping their interactions with each other at the heart of the show. But, as we all know, expectations MUST be kept in the ground and it seems like Marisol unfortunately isn't going anywhere fast enough 😒😒😒

ANYWAY, hearing from you was a delightful surprise and I'm ready for the ride, and to indulge my salt gremlin side. (D20 is perfect and so I have nothing bad to say, but sometimes it's nice to be a salty bench about other things!) I can't wait to flail with everyone SOOOON!!

Just remember the sacred words!

#911 #sleeping at last anon #I'VE MISSED YOU!!!!#even if we aren't back to our normal stuff (lord knows my brain is too dead to meta post much) it's good to hear from you!#we're soooooo back! at least in the 'good firefam shit' sense #but for realsies ryan needs to let us REST #timmy let him go buck wild this week to get everyone to tune in i just know it!#ANYWAY #happy to hear from you my friend!#look at us both finding joy!#let's see how tomorrow goes!

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chronic-ghost · 8 months

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alright I can’t wait because this

The white bathroom door.

This is the moment he realizes that blank door will haunt his nightmares for years to come. What he could have found on the other side. What he nearly does.

FUCJING DESTROYED ME 😭😭😭😭

Like holy crap this chapter was so so amazing and I think despite the absolute heartbreak, it’s my favourite so far! Just like the emotions??? The intimacy at the beginning and then then everything turning into a war zone.

And then my heart literally sank when Oliver was there and saying all that shit. Oh my god.

Firstly tho, god damn you Chloe. Like, I don’t believe her! If she is pregnant then it’s probably not Dieters… (I hope lmao) or she’s lying because she knows he’s going to leave her otherwise. But girl, you’re not having his baby!! 😂 I can’t wait to see what is actually true and to hate Chloe even more lmao!

But their fight 😭😭😭 so much emotion and aggressions and sadness and hurt. All the freaking hurt in that room in that moment 🥺🥺 my poor little heart!! Poor Natalies heart too because I’m sure you could probably actually hear it break.

But I’m so glad Dieter could call Heidi and she came and helped him 😭😭 and he’s gonna go to rehab for himself and get better for himself and be happy for himself 🥺 and he was nominated for an Oscar!!! 😭 I’m sure it will be such a tough and hard road but I’m glad he has someone there for him!

And Natalie.. 😭😭 I had a feeling something like this was eventually going to happen and while I hate to say it.. maybe it had to. For her to also realise that this isn’t the life she wants to have. That she deserves a better one, a happier one! I’m just so glad she made it through because you could’ve absolutely shredded our hearts right there lmao!

But the way you wrote that, the way Dieter found her. It really was like I could feel his desperation and fear, got my hands all sweaty! It was written so so beautifully and so sad and I legit wanted to cry a bit.

Fuck Oliver obviously, hope you rot in jail 💕

(btw I’m watching the new season only murders in the building and for some reason I always picture that Oliver and it’s absolutely fucking hilarious 😂)

Just.. Aaaaaaah!!! Like this was such a sad and heart breaking chapter but I also feel weirdly hopeful? Like shit went down. Absolute rock bottom and it sucks! But now the only way left is up again, working on rebuilding the rubble and maybe it’s gonna be so so much better then.

Also Natalie finally said she loves him 🥺 I know they’re gonna find their way back to each other eventually and hopefully have their issues and problems worked out so they can finally get to know who the other person really is and love each other even more and better than before 🥺

AND RECOVERY ROAD GOT AN OSCAR! 🎉

Man this was just an amazing chapter and I am so soft for these 2 characters and I just.. sigh

You’re such a brilliant freaking writer! Thank you for sharing 🥺 (also I wasn’t sure where to send this ask so I hope here is okay but if not then the next one will be to your Pedro blog!!! :))))

im having kind of a rough day and this . . . ooof, this got me real good.

aldjfalkadsf i would never do anything to actually hurt Natalie forever, she's come too far. fanfiction is supposed to be fun and i am too much of a wimp to really kill a character forever -- or do something that prevents the blorbos from being happy in the end. this is the lowest the fic will ever get, so you're right! the only way forward is up!

I've been writing fic for years and the scene in the hospital is the only time i've actually made myself tear up. i think it's easy to forget that natalie is 13 years younger than dieter and just by the nature of time itself, has more life experience than her. she's still young herself and trying to figure it all out. my heart just broke for her :(

I LOVE only murders in the building and that oliver would be horrified and disgusted by this oliver! Martin Short is absolutely hilarious in that role -- i need to catch up on the next season!

thank you so much for all your words and support. it really truly honestly means the world to me! i was really, really hoping you'd like this chapter and i can't wait to hear what you think of the next one.

You make all of this very worthwhile!

#recovery road #recovery road asks #dieter bravo #nice things people say

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cieloisqueen · 4 years

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Good Morning Prison

#my favorite hobby: throwing cielstar under the bus #i hope he has fun rotting in jail #sick fuck #i wanna see anti antis come at me for this #they were silent when the situation happened #ciel star #kuroshitsuji #shitpost #erin speaks

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verxsyon · 2 years

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·:*¨༺ ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ❞

@xiaosmoon new year’s eve resolutions.

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. thoma x gn!reader

✧ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭. drabble ; 1.0k

✧ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. established relationship au, modern au ; fluff

✧ 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐚. happy new year! this will be my last piece for 2021. originally, this was supposed to be angst, but after reading some of the pieces of from the masterlist, it didn’t work out in my favor. plus, thoma needs a break from my last angst fic of him lol. special thanks to @xiaosmoon for hosting the collab.

[ 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ]

New Year’s Resolutions for 2022

Read more books, specifically ones published by the Yae Publishing House. If I want to impress Miss Yae Miko to publish my novel, reading those would be a good start to find out what style of writing and genres suits her taste. Oh, that reminds me: Zhenyu’s book A Legend of Sword is out. I need to buy it soon…

Be more active outside. Outdoors can be nice sometimes. The weather app states that it’ll be sunny during the first week of January. Maybe I’ll take a walk by then. The social aspect can be worked on as well. I like my friends; hanging out with them is fun. Not when they drag me out of the dorm only for me to see Thoma. Just hoping the next time we don’t have to bail someone (read: Itto) out of jail.

Speaking about Thoma—

“There you are!” A familiar friendly and gentle voice startles you into tossing your phone in the air like a hot potato. When it finally stabilizes in your clutches, you quickly tuck it behind your back. “I was wondering where you went.”

Speak of the devil. It’s Thoma, who you befriended since freshman year and became your significant other not too long ago. The two of you met by accident, when you mistook him as the ginger-haired menace from the Fatui — you jokingly call them the circus — an exclusive organization on campus.

Lately, Thoma has been causing issues to your heart, making it palpitate every time he’s around. Why does he have to be so damn likable? “Haha, were you now?”

“You’re missing out on a ramen eating contest between Itto and Yoimiya,” he reports, then sighs. “I made sure the vendor didn’t include tofu in both bowls so it’ll be a fair game. On the bright side, there’s no need for us to rush Itto to the ER again.”

You shake your head. Itto and his reckless persistence to win. “Sorry, I wanted to get some fresh air before heading back. Go on without me. I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Sure. See you.” Just when he’s about to leave, slow music softly plays in the background. How convenient. “Uh, um, this may be stupid of me to ask, but do you maybe want to dance with me? If you want to, of course.”

Thinking about your third resolution on the list, it may be the last opportunity you’ll be alone with him for the night. Your friends won’t ever let you breathe for even a second. “Huh? Oh, I don’t mind. Lead the way.”

Enveloped in each other’s warmth, the both of you sway to the faint rhythm of the background music at the balcony upstairs — a stark contrast to the chaos stirred within the party downstairs. Thoma trips over his shoe, accidentally pinning you against a nearby wall.

“Sorry.” His face hovering over yours makes you realize that you haven’t seen it close enough — the natural charm of making people captivated by him. No wonder you fell in love with him.

Love, huh? The four-letter word makes you realize that the both of you haven’t said it to each other yet. Your relationship hasn’t gone beyond hugging and linking arms, finding yourself flinching from his fingers twisting with yours. His eyes are mesmerizing — bright green like the gardens in the area and even smiling, reflecting his current facial expression.

You’re so in love with him. You want to yell it to the entire world in the horizon, but whether it's too soon and whether the feeling is mutual are the problems. Your third resolution will rot in your notes until the next year. Or the next five years. Or the next ten years. Or maybe even forever.

“So… Have you planned out your New Year’s resolutions?” he asks, ignoring the elephant in the room. “I know you’re committed to this sort of thing, and I actually got into it to better myself for the upcoming year. Some of them sound silly so I’m not sure if you want to know what they are.”

“Believe me. Nothing is sillier than my partner shedding tears from being used as a test subject for tasting peculiar foods,” you snicker, and Thoma retires himself to defeat. Thanks to Ayato, you can use this narrative at every opportunity you have to taunt him. “Come on. Let me hear one of them.”

“Okay,” he says, taking a deep breath beforehand. “It’s about you.”

“Me?”

“Told you it’s silly,” he remarks. “We haven’t made it far into our relationship, and we just began holding hands. I want to be a good partner by being there with you more because I’m freaking in love with you. I’m really sorry for being so busy with work, but whether you want a hug or food or even as unrealistic as buying a mansion with a pool, I’ll give it to you.”

“Thoma.” Squeezing his hand, he immediately shuts up and fixes his attention to you. “Did you just say it? That you’re in love with me?”

His speech jumbles in his mouth, tainting his ears red. “No, you must be hearing things from the fireworks going off. Totally did not let that slip.”

“One, Yoimiya didn’t set the fireworks off yet. She’s probably still busy kicking Itto’s ass in the ramen eating contest,” you point out. “Two, you tend to get passionate and emotional in the heat of the moment, and this is one of those moments. Ha, how funny. What a coincidence.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’m freaking in love with you too, Thoma,” you whisper, feeling the heaviness lift from your chest. “My resolution to be a good partner for the upcoming year is being able to say that, and keep on saying it every single day.”

“Oh. Oh.” Thoma uses his free hand to yours that isn’t being held, and brings both of your hands together, cradling them so lovingly. He isn’t planning on being subtle, you believe, from the flickering of his eyes on your lips. “May I…?”

“Yes.” The night is cold, but his lips are warm. The same slow music still plays in the background, and the two of you continue the dance underneath the moonlight, awaiting for the explosive applause from the starry sky.

✧ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬. if your url is in bold, it means i can’t tag you!

@aibiito ; @blissmal ; @bluexiao ; @bokutosworld ; @dreamiehrs ; @fadedjae ; @help-wtf-am-i-even-doing ; @lilikags ; @pastelsicheng ; @philosopher-of-fandoms ; @shxnosuke ; @sleepyyangyang ; @sucrosia ; @sunfloweritea ; @xriin

#✦ .collabs #✦ .fics #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact modern au #genshin impact fluff #thoma drabbles #thoma headcanons #thoma imagines #thoma scenarios #thoma modern au #thoma fluff

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noirandchocolate · 2 years

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AITA for trying to get my Christmas-hating housemate to celebrate Christmas

I (20f) moved into my housemate’s (20-somethingm) home a few months ago. My housemate comes from a wealthy family, and his lifestyle reflects that: this is a very large house with a lot of extra rooms and beautiful antique furnishings, and he has live-in staff to prepare meals, clean, etc. Like, I just found out he even has specific guys on his payroll who chop wood for the fireplaces and make sure the heating system works. Wow, right?

Anyway, my housemate has never held a job and acts pretty spoiled if I’m being honest. He yells at the workers on his property for even the slightest mistakes, his room is a disaster area, he’s impatient, and--kind of weird--he insists we eat all our meals together and gets mad when I go out without him and made me promise I’d never do that again. On the other hand, I can be kind of headstrong myself, and if he really gets out of line with me I do shout right back at him. And recently, I have discovered he does have a bit of a softer side in there, and I think that with some help he could learn to grow up and take responsibility for his actions and not lash out so much. He’s been nicer to me the past couple weeks and I feel like we’re actually becoming friends instead of “just” housemates.

But right now, I’m stumped, because earlier today I offered to help him and his staff decorate the house for Christmas, to brighten up the place and maybe cheer him up with some fun activities together. He totally flew off the handle at me! Literally without provocation beyond me asking. He said he “hates Christmas” and forbade the rest of us from celebrating. He then went and locked himself in his room and I heard him listening to broody classical music; he always gets like that when he’s super upset about something.

Now here’s where I might be the asshole. See, I really like Christmas. It’s a time of year for joy and hope, and I was really hoping to share that with my housemate! I want to pull him out of his depressive funk and have some light in his life. I even made him a handcrafted gift I think he’ll love! So, I went ahead with my decorating plans while he was locked upstairs, and left the house with one of the staff’s son to pick out a tree in the forest near my housemate’s property. On the way back I had an accident and fell into a frozen lake and I think I almost died. Luckily somebody snitched to my housemate that I left, because he found me and brought me back, though I don’t remember much because of almost drowning.

But now my housemate is really, really furious at me and said I “broke my word” about leaving the house without him even though I was going to come right back, and he’s redoubled his insistence that he will never, ever celebrate Christmas. I feel kind of bad for putting him through having to save my life because I wouldn’t have been in that situation if I’d just respected his wishes. And I know he’s been through a lot and that people tend to judge him on appearances without getting to know that he can be very sweet if he tries. Still, I don’t think I’m wrong that Christmas is a fun holiday that could bring some hope into his life if he gave it a chance, and I don’t think it was fair of him to lock me in this dungeon to “rot forever.”

So, Reddit, AITA?

Edit: A lot of you are asking why I live with this guy. It’s an odd situation but my father got caught trespassing on my housemate’s property and he said he wouldn’t press charges against my dad if I agreed to live here. I love my dad and he’s getting on in years so I don’t want him to go to jail, also our finances aren’t great so it’s just better if I stay here for right now.

Edit 2: Yes, I KNOW my housemate is throwing up major red flags! I know that! But trust me, it could be worse. Where I lived before this there was a guy in town who kept stalking me and insisting I marry him even though we couldn’t be less compatible. At least my housemate isn’t a misogynist looking for a trophy wife/bangmaid! And you should see the size of his library--nerdy bookworm that I am, I’m happy with that part of living here, at least!

Update: Okay it turned out my housemate just has really, really low self-esteem regarding his appearance and doesn’t like Christmas parties because they remind him of some traumatic stuff in his past. Also he was listening to this shitty “friend” of his who kept telling him that love and friendship are a manipulative prison he shouldn’t bother with, and that’s been fueling his depression and mood swings. That friend literally just tried to kill us and destroy our house but my housemate ripped him apart and now he’s dead. And my housemate said we can celebrate Christmas after all! So, thanks so much for your answers, Reddit, but we can consider this problem solved!

#kidk says stuff #we watched a movie last night can you guess which one it was?

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whisperlullaby · 3 years

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Just Say It And I’m Yours- Ch. 3

Summary: You and Steve are growing closer even inviting Bucky to your weekly pizza night, but when something happens at work you need their help before something bad happens.

Warnings: Mentions of Domestic violence, violence, cursing

A/N: Special thanks to @river-soul for betaing this for me. As with all of my work, if you are under 18 DNI please. If I missed any warnings please let me know!

It’s been one month since you started the job with the prosecutor's office, and although your caseload kept you busy Steve always made sure Friday nights were pizza nights. He told you he took your advice and put in for a leave of absence from The Avengers to get his head on straight. You swelled with pride knowing that a break would only help him come back a better person. On this particular Friday night, you were working late finishing up some paperwork on a domestic violence case that was going to court on Monday. You had set the victim up in a safehouse and gave her a burner cell to contact you if anything happened. It wasn’t a typical protocol for victim advocates to be that involved, but you couldn’t help feeling like something wasn’t right. As you were getting ready to leave there was a knock at your door.

“Come in,” you said while you packed up your desk.

Connor Pierce meandered into your office.

“Hey, there darling I was hoping to catch you.”

“Connor, I told you not to call me that,” you huffed. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought I would let you know that my client made bail,” Connor said carefully.

You stopped breathing. Connor was representing the person who left your client for dead on the sidewalk outside their apartment after she ran late with his dinner.

“He was supposed to be in jail until the hearing. How did he make bail?” You seethed.

Connor sat in the chair in front of your desk and sighed. “I really have no idea. Off the record, I was kind of hoping he would rot in there for a few days, but I guess he has more pull than he led me to believe.”

You looked at Connor with your mouth agape. “Aren’t you supposed to be providing your clients the best representation?”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like them,” Connor smirked at you.

“Well, thanks for the heads up. Now, if you don’t mind I have to make a phone call.”

You pulled out your phone and started to call the safehouse. Connor stood up and placed a hand over your phone.

“It’s late, and there isn’t anything you can do. Why don’t I take you out to dinner? My treat.”

You pulled away from Connor and smiled. “It’s 5 o’clock, so not too late. Besides, I have plans tonight, which you know seeing as you ask me out every Friday and every Friday I tell you the same thing.”

He laughed and nodded his head. “You’ll go out with me eventually. I’m very persistent.”

“I’m sure you are sweetie, now if you’ll excuse me I have a phone call to make and plans to keep.”

You gestured for Connor to leave your office. Once he was gone you sent a text to your client to let her know about her husband making bail. When you left your office without a response you decided to call the safehouse.

“Hi, I’m calling about Ava Hendrix codeword: Sparrow. Her husband was released on bail and I am trying to get a hold of her.”

“Hello yes, Mrs. Hendrix left a few hours before curfew and hasn’t returned. We have been trying to get a hold of her too.”

Your stomach jumped into your throat. “Thank you. I’ll contact the authorities.”

You hung up with the safehouse and reached out to the police. Unfortunately, since there was no order of protection and Ava was an adult they were ‘unable to provide any assistance unless there was immediate danger.’ You called bullshit.

You took the steps to Steve’s apartment two at a time. When you got to his door you knocked frantically until he opened it.

“Jeeze, doll I know you love pizza but cool it with the knocking,” Steve teased before he saw your face and his smile dropped, “What’s going on?”

You pushed past Steve into his apartment. “I can’t find one of my clients and her dickbag husband made bail.”

You looked up and saw Bucky hovering around the counter next to the pizza. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a small curse. You had forgotten that you invited Bucky to pizza night this week to help him relax after a particularly difficult mission. Shaking your head, you turned back to Steve.

“I need to find her Steve, he almost killed her.” You started shaking and Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“Okay, we’ll find her. Buck, can you call whoever isn’t on a mission for a personal favor?”

“Sure thing Stevie,” Bucky pulled out his phone and started making calls.

“I’m ruining pizza night. I forgot I invited Bucky this week. He was supposed to be relaxing after the mission, not be thrust into a new one.” You put your head in your hands as Steve chuckled.

“Don't worry about Bucky sweetheart, he's tough he'll manage.” Steve placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Why don’t we take the pizza to go and drive around for a bit to see if we can spot her.”

“I would really like that Steve, thank you.”

You, Steve, and Bucky piled into Steve’s car. You had to admit you were shocked when you saw the clown car Steve drove. After effectively getting Bucky to agree to the backseat, you had to have a good view since you knew what Ava looked like, you gave Steve her old address thinking to start there.

“Could you move your seat up?” Bucky asked as he shifted around uncomfortably.

You whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, “We are in the middle of searching for a woman who is in serious danger and you're worried about leg room?”

Bucky stared at you for a minute before sliding over into the middle of the backseat. You turned around and caught his smirk in the rearview mirror. Your phone chirped and you saw a text from Ava’s burner phone. You sucked in a deep breath before opening it.

“Hi, sorry to worry you. I’m fine. I’m home and Derek is going to take care of me. Thanks for your help, see you on Monday.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Steve, drive faster. He has her.”

You heard the whirring of Bucky’s metal arm and saw the tick in Steve’s jaw as he slammed on the gas. When you got to the apartment you could hear Ava screaming and things crashing. You whipped open the car door and bolted to the apartment before Steve fully stopped the car. You jiggled the handle but it was locked. You checked under the welcome mat to see if they kept a spare key and let out a breath of relief when you saw the copper key. Quickly opening the door you saw Ava huddled on the floor bleeding over shattered glass and Derek wielding a bat.

“Hey, asshole drop the bat!” You rushed at him and Derek took a swing at you, narrowly missing your head as you ducked.

“You’re that bitch who tried to hide my wife from me. This doesn’t concern you.” He lifted the bat over his head and you braced your arms over your face before you heard the bat drop and Derek cry out in pain.

You looked up and saw him clutching his shoulder where a knife was sticking out. Turning around you saw Bucky pull another knife from his holster and Steve stalking toward Derek with fire in his eyes. You crawled over to Ava who was thankfully still awake and called 911.

“You think it’s fun to hit women? Think it makes you a man?” Steve threw a punch and cracked Derek's nose, “How do you like getting his? Huh? Not so much fun when they’re not afraid of you?”

“Steve, stop, the police are coming and I don’t need him filing a report on you.”

Steve turned around and met your pleading eyes. He softened a bit before throwing Derek back on the ground. He came over to check you for any injuries before turning his attention to Ava. Bucky waited by the door as the sirens grew louder, twirling his knife as if to silently dare Derek to try something. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, Ava was fine.

When the police got there they put Derek in handcuffs as his attorney arrived. You glared at Connor as you waited with Ava who was being checked out by the paramedics. After telling her you would be right back to ride with her to the hospital, you made your way over to Connor.

“Don’t think he’s making bail this time,” you spat.

“Well since he broke the conditions of his release he’s being remanded until the trial,” Connor sighed. “I told you he made bail not only because it’s my job but because I thought something bad might happen.”

You glared at Connor who gave you a soft look.“Well, I think I’d like you more if you didn’t represent such complete scum.”

“I think I’d like me more too,” Connor admitted before walking away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around to see Steve.

“Hey, doll, you okay?”

“I’m fine Steve. I’m really happy you and Bucky were here, who knows what would have happened if it wasn’t for you guys.” You gave him a shy smile.

“I’m glad for the opportunity for some target practice,” Bucky joked.

You laughed and gave him a hug that he tentatively returned. “You have perfect aim and you know it, Buck. I have to go get Ava to the hospital and finish my reports. Go enjoy your pizza, I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee Steve.”

You placed a kiss on Steve’s cheek and jogged back over to the ambulance. Before you were out of earshot you caught Bucky talking to Steve.

“I like her, Stevie. She reminds me of you.”

“Yeah, I like her too,” Steve said wistfully.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers series #tw domestic violence

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