#hasn't this man made it apparent enough how disgusting he is for people to finally ignore him?

[definitelyjunehomestuck]

i've never been insistant enough on not seein somethin on here to blacklist a tag before, but with dream apparently doin a face reveal soon, i think i'm gonna have to

[bruhstories]

Bloodlust

Summary: You were a rookie Jashinist with a dark secret, he was a demented shinobi with a desire to slaughter anything and everything for his god. Pairing: Hidan x Fem!Reader (canon verse) Warnings & Content: dark content - minors dni, language, blood kink, kidnapping, murder, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, knives, human sacrifice, cult-like behaviour, religious fanatism, Reader and Hidan are... insane, slight gore. Word Count: 2.8 k

A/N: Read those tags carefully. Hidan's not exactly a warm and fuzzy character.

"Please, let me go... I won't tell anyone." You peeled your lips open, dry from all the crying and lack of hydration, hairs stuck to your sweaty forehead.

"Let you go? But... you came here willingly." He sneered, flashing you his teeth.

He was right. You joined the Jashinists thinking they were a liberal religion, preaching freedom and anarchy, but you did not expect sadism and human sacrifices. And you didn't expect to fall in love with Hidan — the most vile man you've ever encountered. Not that he knew that, anyway. He couldn't possibly fathom the idea that a sweet thing like you could love a man like him. But you weren't a saint.

"T-then why are you doing this to m-me?" You breathed, the ropes around your wrists cutting the blood circulation in your hands.

Hidan clicked his tongue and placed his scythe on the floor. "Because I can." He picked up a knife — no, a kunai. "And because you wanted to run away."

Ah, there it was. You decided to leave this cult when Hidan prompted you to kill some poor ninja he'd kidnapped a few days ago. You refused, expecting to be left alone, and now you were the sacrifice.

"I t-told you, I- I only kill those who deserve it."

"Everyone deserves it, Y/N. Especially traitors." Hidan traced the blade over your exposed abdomen, goosebumps dotting your skin and you were ashamed to admit that it made you feel... something.

"So, you're just g-going to kill m-me?"

"Don't be sad. You'll make a fine fucking sacrifice for Jashin."

"Please, Hidan, give m-me another c-chance." Tears pooled at your eyes. Death was not on your list, not now, and especially not at his hands.

"You know we don't give second chances." The blade was now between your tits, the tip slowly poking into your skin. Crimson droplets seeped from the fresh wound. It stung like a bitch, and it made you whimper, but the heat in your cunt signalled your arousal.

"You d-don't, but Jashin does." You whispered, and Hidan was completely taken aback.

"Excuse you?"

"Every t-time you failed to kill someone, hengave you another c-chance." You spat at him. "What m-makes you think he won't g-give me one?"

Confused wouldn't even begin to describe what he felt. Hidan blinked slowly, trying to comprehend the question before he dropped the kunai and left without a word.

You didn't know exactly how much time passed since he left. By this point you couldn't feel your fingers and the room began to spin, head dizzy from exhaustion. The door swung open and you shot your head up, startled by the sudden intrusion. Hidan walked in with a terrifying look on his face and bent down to grab the blade. He slashed the first rope and your hand fell limp by your hip.

"You're lucky he's a benevolent god." He slashed the second rope and your knees hit the cold, hard floor. Fear, happiness and anxiety coiled in your stomach, surprised that you have, indeed, been given a second chance.

"You talked to him?" You shook your wrists to get the blood flowing, eyes finding his.

"Yes, and surprisingly he likes you. Says you have potential." His voice went up an octave when uttering the last word in what seemed to be sarcasm.

Still on the floor, you arched a brow. "Do you doubt his judgement?" You suspected it was a mistake to ask that question, because in a split second Hidan yanked your hair and pulled your head back to look at him upside-down.

"I'll die before I doubt the good lord. Who I doubt is you." He pierced your soul with his sangria eyes, chills running down your spine, stopping in-between your thighs. You hated the effect he had over you, you hated that he was so oblivious to your hints, only focused on Jashin. Always Jashin.

Granted, Jashin did offer Hidan immortality, which was something you could only dream of. You were a pathetic civilian with a knack for medical jutsu, but never properly trained. He was a full-fledged shinobi who could snap your neck like a twig if he wanted to. And he wanted to.

But, the word of Jashin was law for Hidan. As much as he wanted to sacrifice you to his beloved god, he had to refrain himself, fearing punishment for his sins. And as much as he hated to admit it, you shared and valued the same goals of Jashinism — to a certain extent. You were down to slaughter people, but only those who deserved it, and apparently to Jashin that was enough. But not to Hidan. Never to Hidan.

"Jashin says I have potential, it's not up to you to talk back." You mustered up some courage after your wounds healed. That medical jutsu thing you practised for self-healing really came in handy when Hidan had violent outbursts and Kakuzu wasn't there to put him in his place. Shame you didn't know how to use it to heal others.

"Listen here, you little bitch, just because you've been pardoned now doesn't mean I'll hesitate to stab your tits when you disobey the lord." He let go of your hair and you leaned forward, palms on the floor to stop you from falling. "Besides, you're gonna have to prove yourself. Again."

You knew exactly what he meant. You had to kill. And Hidan wasn't one to let you off the hook — you'd have to kill someone innocent, and the idea of performing such a sacrifice made your stomach churn, it made you want to throw up, because you knew you'd enjoy it. Murdering someone deserving felt like a chore, like something natural. But the thought of killing someone undeserving made your heart flutter, your cunt burn and your head hazy with a high so addictive, no drug in the world could compare to it.

"Don't make me kill someone, please."

"Oh, spare me of your holier-than-thou bullshit. You either kill or be killed, Y/N. Now let's get to fucking work." Hidan bruised your arm in the process of 'helping' you up, unaware of the pleasant surprise that lurked within you. Because if he knew the real you, he'd probably question his own sanity — and that's something he'd never done. The real you was obscene, twisted and demented, long before you discovered Jashinism, but you tried to bury that part of you deep down. You seemingly succeeded, focusing your bloodlust on anarchy and overthrowing the Tsuchikage with a group of punk teenagers from your village, Iwagakure.

Until you met Hidan.

"I really don't want to do this." You pleaded with the silver-haired man, hands trembling and eyes watery.

"Kill him, Y/N." Hidan rolled his eyes, the blades of his scythe pressing into your back as you pressed your kunai into the victim's neck. "Kill him or I kill you."

"Alright, alright, I'll do it. But give me some space."

"Tch, pretentious bitch." He stepped aside, watching you carefully.

"More space." You demanded and he took another step back with an impatient look on his face.

"There's only one exit to this cave. If you think, for a fucking second, that you walk out of here alive you're wrong. Unless you kill him." Hidan licked his lips. "Jashin demands a sacrifice. Now."

You looked down at the symbol drawn with the victim's blood, then back at the man in front of you. His eyes were wide open and filled with tears, arms chained to then wall of the cave. He frantically shook his head, saliva dripping from his gag as he prayed for salvation.

"I'm so sorry." You spoke — not sorry for the victim, but for yourself and what you'd become after this day. Slender fingers lifted his chin upwards and with one swift movement, you slit open the skin, blood gushing out, spraying your face, neck and cleavage. "Fuck..." You moaned, the hot crimson liquid dripping down your chin.

"See, it wasn't so bad." Hidan elbowed you but you didn't move, instead, you gripped the blade handle tightly and drove it into the victim's abdomen, more blood spluttering on you when you removed it. "Oh, you want more?" The rogue shinobi quirked a brow, content with your choice. Adrenaline and arousal rushed through your veins and you dropped the kunai, the clanging echoing in the cave.

"Hidan..." You trailed off, tentatively unzipping your black cloak. "I want you to fuck me."

The silver-haired man watched you smear the blood over your exposed tits, his cock twitching in his pants. Finally, he realised just how beautiful you truly were, the pure ecstasy on your face igniting a flame in his core.

"Here?" He asked, somewhat surprised by your request.

"Yes, please." You turned around to face him, and the look on his face told you just how impressed he was.

"Now aren't you just so full of surprises? And here I thought you were just some goodie two-shoes who refused to harm people." Hidan removed his Akatsuki cloak, letting it fall to the ground, allowing you to see just how hard he was. You bit on your lower lip, the metallic taste was pure bliss in your mouth. "You filthy, disgusting whore." He sneered, his lips crushing yours in a shameful, euphoric kiss. The moment his tongue touched the blood in your mouth, his skin began to darken, his body linking with the victim's, meaning he hasn't died yet.

"Isn't he going to feel everything?" You pulled back from the kiss, but your voice wasn't in any way concerned about the man chained to the wall.

"Oh, he's going to feel it, alright." Hidan laughed, his hand pushing your head as you lowered yourself down your knees. Fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants and you pulled down both of the layers, his cock slapping your face. "Suck."

You obediently parted your lips, taking the velvety tip into your mouth, tongue swirling around it before you moved to his shaft. Hidan threw his head back, his fingers tangling in your hair as you bobbed your head back and forth, your moans music to his ears. The gurgling sounds coming from the victim told you that he, indeed, felt everything Hidan felt and your twisted mind enjoyed it so fucking much. You picked up the pace, earning grunts and growls from the rogue shinobi before he held your head in place, stuffing your mouth and throat with his thick cock until you dug your fingers in his thigh, desperately trying to breathe.

"Jashin was right to give you a second chance." Hidan released you and you gasped for air. "You're his gift for me."

The blood on your body dried out, but you were just as beautiful. You leaned on your back, spreading your legs for him. It was a smart decision not to wear anything underneath your cloak. The silver-haired man kneeled between your thighs, his hands bruising your skin with rough touches before he found your dripping cunt.

"Shit, Y/N, you're soaking wet." He shoved two fingers between your folds, curling them upwards. You squirmed and moaned, desperate for something bigger.

"S-skip the foreplay and fuck m-me!" You begged but Hidan wasn't one to listen. He thrusted his fingers in and out of you, enjoying the way you thrashed and moaned his name, enjoying the way you arched your back with every movement.

"You're so beautiful." He confessed and you were caught off guard. It was the first time he ever said something nice to you, let alone compliment you. "You really are a sight for sore fucking eyes." Hidan removed his fingers but before you could say anything, he shoved them in your mouth. "Don't you taste like a needy slut?"

You nodded with lidded eyes, cheeks hollowed as you sucked the slick off of fingers. Hidan hovered over you, his cock grazing over your slit and aching clit, then kissed you with so much force and passion you almost couldn't breathe.

"Fuck, you taste good." He grabbed his shaft and pushed the tip painstakingly slowly between your folds. Oh, he was so much bigger than you expected, but you quickly got accustomed to his girth, mouth agape and eyes rolled back in pleasure.

"Shit- Hidan!" You bucked your hips, legs wrapping around his waist as he wrapped his calloused fingertips around your neck.

"Jashin damn it, you are so tight. You're not a fucking virgin, are you?"

You shook your head, fingernails digging into his back and the victim gurgled again. Hidan released the grip from your neck, instead holding you by the hips and frenziedly pulling you onto his cock. It was sinful, degrading and demented, and his brutal, animalistic thrusts only turned you on more. The sound of skin against skin, growls and moans echoed in the cave, and soon enough Hidan's bone-like markings faded. You didn't care, he was still buried into your cunt, but the thrill of having your pussy obliterated next to a dying man dissipated, replaced by the pure lust Hidan radiated.

"Fuck, I'm-"

"No, you're not. Not until I fucking allow it." The silver-haired man pulled out and you cried, literal tears pooling at your eyes as you were on the brink of an orgasm. "You've been a bad, bad, girl, denying Jashin, denying slaughter, denying me." He gave your cunt a firm slap which vibrated through your entire body, ending with a whimper.

"Y-you have n-no idea how m-much I want you, Hidan." You squeezed your thighs together for a crumb or friction, but he forcefully pushed your knees to the sides.

"Then you should listen. See what a good job you've done today?" He tilted his head to the chained corpse.

"You d-don't understand... I've g-got an insatiable bloodlust." You admitted, but you knew he'd only be more intrigued.

"That's exactly why you've been drawn to Jashinism." Hidan flipped you over, and you were down on all fours. He pushed his cock back in you with one deep thrust, earning another moan out of you. "Embrace it, Y/N. You and I can do great things together, for him."

"But it's wrong." You whispered and you could feel his arm slithering around your neck, pulling you closer to him.

"And who told you that? Society? Your parents? Nah, I'll be your daddy from now on." His fat cock brushed against your cervix, your silken walls clenching around it as he fucked you harder. "You wanna come, don't you?"

"Oh, yes!"

"Yes, what?" Hidan tightened the grip, your back against his chest.

"Yes, daddy! Please, I want it, I want it!" You whimpered.

"And are you going to give Jashin everything he wants?"

It was decided — Hidan stripped you of any speck of humanity or rationality you had left in you. You loved him, after all, and he loved Jashin.

"Yes, I will! Jashin can have anything he wants as long as I have you."

"Good girl." He kissed your head before releasing your neck, hands gripping your hips to hold you in place. "Nowyou can come."

Your cunt was aching for release, and you mustered enough strength to rub your clit in messy, circular motions. Soon enough, you felt it coming — the rush of adrenaline as Hidan fucked into you, fingers pinching your sore nipples. You came on his cock with a soft moan and with one final, violent thrust he fills you up, cum dripping from your sloppy cunt as he pulls out. You rolled on your back, propping yourself on your elbows and Hidan froze, the sight of your used and abused pussy hypnotising him.

"Like what you see?" You grinned, fingers tentatively grazing over your slit, dipping between your folds before you brought them to your mouth to taste his seed.

"Shit, I think I'm in love." His sangria eyes bore into yours and your heart fluttered. You knew he was an asshole, and he probably only said it in the heat of the moment, but you were satisfied with what you got.

"What about him?"

"Meh, Kakuzu will take care of the mess. I wanna take a fucking bath." Hidan picked his red and black cloak up from the floor before getting up. "And I'm starving."

You pursed your lips and lowered your gaze. So much for being in love with you.

"You coming to the hot springs?"

"Me?"

"As much as I adore seeing you covered in blood, that shit's dry and crusty." He threw you your cloak.

"You wanna take a bath... with me?"

"Yes? The fuck are you acting so surprised? I just said I'm in love with you but you're surprised I wanna take a bath with you?"

"You know what, stop talking." You rolled your eyes and got up.

"I think the fuck not."

"Fuck's sake, Hidan, let's go."

"Fuckin' crazy bitch."

[headoverjojo]

I recently just read a fic with Trish dying and turning into a ghost. So far the author hasn't finished it but how do you think the bruno gang would react if diavolo killed her like he planned and they found about it much later on.

Hi there, darling! :3 Aaaaaa aaaanggssttt!! I hope to have satisfied your wish, my dear!!

Bruno’s gang reaction to find out that Diavolo killed Trish, like planned, but they find about it much later on

(Under the cut for length!)

Everything seemed to have gone as it should. Bruno found out about the Boss’ real intentions and managed to drag Trish away, both severely injured, Bruno barely alive. When Giorno, dragging the others too, came in their aid, Bruno really thought they had made it, that the Boss would have left Trish alone, at least for the meantime, to retreat and reorganize.

Bruno was wrong. No one noticed King Crimson sliding behind them. Diavolo carefully and smartly used his gift to skip and it was so subtle that no one noticed it. One second he was near Trish, the second after he was retreating, a smug smile on his face.

When Bruno gently put Trish inside Coco Jumbo, he, as the others, didn’t notice that her heart wasn’t beating anymore.

Bruno Bucciarati

When he found out about it, Bruno felt devastated. It was his fault, he knew it was his fault… if only he managed to protect her better. If only he had noticed that the Boss wasn’t retreating, if only, if only… he tortured himself over and over again, thinking about what he could have do to prevent the disgrace. Even if he didn’t know Trish since long as he knew his boys, Bruno had grown fond on her. She was just a girl, a young girl who didn’t have anything to do with his dark world: he just wanted to keep her safe and allow her to live the life she wanted. He thought that safeness, for her, would have been with the Boss; he was wrong. He should have known, he told himself again and again, he should have known, he should have suspected something and not blindly go on with the mission… it was his fault. Trish, an innocent, died because of him.

Bruno would need time to recover from it. The mission, before its tragic ending, had been exhausting both physically and mentally, and her death had been the last blow. He’s more uncertain about his decision, now, as they have lead to Trish’s death; he doesn’t know if he would be a good Capo, as he wasn’t able to protect a girl from his own father. His team is always near him, not to let him sink down: just time and their presence would help him to finally emerge from this deep gloominess with a new determination to take down the Boss. This time for Trish too.

Leone Abbacchio

Abbacchio hadn’t a real opinion on Trish, as he was more interested in fulfilling the mission than about Trish as person. When he saw her entering San Giorgio Maggiore with Bruno, he felt relieved: they did it, the mission had been a success! But it all crumbled down when he saw Bruno heavily wounded, as Trish, and heard about the Boss’ real intentions. This drew a line for him: he was an ex corrupted policemen, yes, he considered himself the scum of society, yes, he was a gangster, yes, but what the Boss did was over it. It was disgusting, it was cruel and unnatural and Abbacchio couldn’t stand it. He decided to follow Bruno on the boat mainly ‘cause at the time his life was voted to fight at Bruno’s side, yes, but a small part of him wanted also to punish the Boss for what he had tried to do. Just that the Boss already did it, when no one was watching. Abbacchio was angry, angry with himself, first, and with the others too. Why no one noticed anything?! How the hell could the Boss come so near to kill his daughter under their noses?! He hated it, he hated it with all his heart. He always was against kids in the organization or somehow involved in it, so, in his heart, he wished for Trish a life far from mafia, a normal life. Now she wouldn’t ever had this chance. They haven’t protect her, in the end: the mission was a failure.

Abbacchio wouldn’t need as much time as Bruno to recover, so he’d mostly try to drag his leader out of the mourn he’s in. They can’t lose him, not him too, they need a guide, Bruno is their Capo and has to control his emotions and go on! Especially now that they’re on the run and are trying to find out the Boss’ real identity. They all have to endure the pain and go on if they don’t want to be killed! They have to do it, for Trish too. They have to fight for Trish too!

Guido Mista

As Abbacchio, Mista hadn’t a fully-formed opinion on Trish. He found her pretty, she had a sharp tongue -he still huffs a chuckle remembering when she used Fugo’s jacket as towel and her words after she did so-, a good smell… but he hadn’t had the chance to really talk to her, as they were always chased by various assassins out to hunt for their blood. He didn’t find her suited for mafia, this was for sure; it was a relief seeing her entering the church, as, now, she would have been safe from her father’s enemies. It wasn’t so: her greatest enemy was her own father, apparently. Mista, grown in a big and unite family, couldn’t accept it, he couldn’t even think about it. For him family was sacred: how could a father want to kill his own daughter? He just… he couldn’t understand. It was a so alien thought that he couldn’t keep it in his mind. This also helped him to finally take the decision to go on the boat: if for the Boss was so easy to kill his own family, than how much easier would have been to kill his subordinates? He couldn’t stand a Boss like this. He wanted to change things and Trish too would have been safe! But… it wasn’t more necessary. It had been Mista the one who noticed first that Trish was sleeping since when they had left Venice and she was so still… he touched her and felt her skin cold. He still screamed Giorno’s name, calling him inside the turtle to try to use Gold Experience to heal her, to do something, but inside of his heart he knew it was too late. Guido felt empty, after that. It was too late; the Boss has always been two steps in front of them. In fact, the Boss had already won and they hadn’t even noticed it. Mista felt guilty, even, ‘cause they had promised to protect her, but look now: she was dead. They had… failed her. She, who trusted them, in the end died. And it was their fault.

Even if he shaked off the mourn pretty fast, Mista, inside, was still in a turmoil. He felt guilty, angry, sad, all together. He had to regain his composure fast, as they were on the run, but, inside, oh, he was a ticking bomb. He didn’t know Trish since long, true, but her death was so unfair and sudden that it just shocked him to this point. He wanted to fight the Boss, he wanted to put an end to his reign of terror. For Trish and for all the others who died for the Boss’ pride.

Narancia Ghirga

Narancia was pretty indifferent towards Trish, but this didn’t mean he wouldn’t have wanted to be her friend! it wasn’t just the moment nor the place to do so. He liked her, he felt they could have been good friends, but what really made him feel a connection with her was what her father almost did to her in the church. She had been betrayed by someone who should have protect her… she was like him. He was like her. How could he deny his protection and help to someone who was in his same situation? He wanted to talk to her about it. He knew how it was to be betrayed in this way: he hoped to help her a little… but he never had the chance to help her. Trish was dead, she had been so since they rushed far from Venice. The Boss… the Boss did it. The Boss, in the end, won. Narancia felt angry, at first, so angry that he wanted to scream. Then it came the pain and the remorse, ‘cause he felt like he hadn’t done enough. If he had used Aerosmith, maybe he would have sensed the Boss, maybe Trish wouldn’t have died…

Narancia’s determination to take down the Boss, now, was doubled. He was ready to give everything he had, to fight ever subordinate the Boss would have sent to them, all to finally take him down, all to finally avenge Trish. A man who’s ready to kill so easily his own daughter is too much even for a criminal organization: Narancia couldn’t stand the thought to serve a man like this. For Trish and for all the close people the Boss surely used and then thrown away, Narancia wanted to fight and win. For them all.

Pannacotta Fugo

Fugo was the first to welcome Trish in the group, but also the first to touch with hand how snarky a scared girl thrown completely out of her life all of the blue could be. Even so, Fugo was not one to hold grudges over it: a scream and it’s gone. Being he a really diligent person, he knew that this mission was crucial to Bruno to achieve his role as Caporegime; completing it would have made him so respected that no one would have even tried to question his authority. So, Fugo was determined to fulfill the mission: not just for his leader, of course, but also for Trish. Even if she acted that way, it was clear that she was scared, that she wanted to have nothing to do with mafia and its affairs and Fugo couldn’t disagree with her: no one would have willingly chosen to be in a criminal organization. And so, when the real intentions of the Boss had been revealed, Fugo was more than shocked. And now… now what? What were they supposed to do? Fight the Boss? Fight him and die all together in a useless mission? Even if… even if part of him wanted to go, his brain was screaming not to go, that it was a suicide mission, they… they have to hide, first, and to think about a plan, not run like crazy hoping to find clues…! He watched them go with a heavy heart, feeling, inside, that someone wouldn’t have come back, from that damn mission. What he didn’t expect was that the one who didn’t come back would have been Trish. He was totally shocked when the others told him what the Boss did to her, that… that all of them had been fooled. Fugo’s first reaction is anger. When he’s stressed, nervous or too overwhelmed, he expresses his turmoil with anger bursts. He even had to go outside, not to explode with the others. All useless, everything they did, every enemy they had fought… useless. Trish was already dead, they… they had fought for a corpse, he found himself to think, bitter. But… no, not for a corpse. In the end, they fought for Trish, for her spirit, not her corpse. In the end they avenged her, so… so, maybe, her spirit was now resting in peace.

Even if it’s a hard blown -it’s never easy to see a person of your age die, even if you don’t know them well- Fugo does his best not to let Trish’s death be useless. Now that the Boss has been defeated, they all can work to build a better Passione, to drag the organization out of the terror Diavolo had thrown it in; and Fugo helps in it, he gives everything he has, every energy and minute he has for this. He offers his intelligence and strategic ability to the new Don, to use it in a better way: and all, also, for Trish. For the girl who made it all possible, whose death gave them the determination to go on and really fulfill their goal. It was all also for Trish.

Giorno Giovanna

In the beginning, Trish, for Giorno was mostly just the best way to reach for the Boss. He was trying to find a good excuse to go near to the Boss, he was preparing himself to wait months, but fate seemed to be at his side, sending no one else but the Boss’ daughter… and they had to accompany her to him! They would have been near him! It was the right chance to try to take him down, Giorno thought, feeling even relieved, knowing that soon it all would have been ended. But it didn’t go according to the plan: the Boss wanted to kill Trish, instead of keep her safe, and Giorno, as much as he cared for his dream, wouldn’t ever just let a person die for the sake of it. He had to think again about what to do, now, he had to plan… but Mista’s scream interrupted him. Giorno was rushed inside Coco Jumbo, as Trish apparently wasn’t feeling well. When he used Gold Experience on her, however, Giorno understood, with shock and horror, that she was… dead. Trish was dead. She was cold and rigid… for how long had she been dead? Hours? More? Giorno cannot speak, he cannot even think. This… this was too much. This was the first time he felt hopeless, that he cannot help somehow. His Gold Experience was useless, as it couldn’t bring back dead people; he felt useless. Trish… she was innocent. She was a common girl dragged in a world made of darkness, and her only fault was to be born. For her father, she had to die for being born, for simply existing. Trish’s death was a hard blow for him: was his dream really worth it? How many other would have died for it? Bruno? Mista? Who else? Even so, even if he felt so desperate, he didn’t show it. He had to be strong… he had led everyone in that mess and he would have done everything to keep them safe. At least them.

When it was all done, Giorno allowed himself to mourn. He didn’t know Trish a lot, nor he was a close friend or even an acquaintance, but… she has been part of the team, even if just for a little time. She entrusted them with her life, but they have failed her. She had dreams and hopes, like all of them, and they had been crushed by her own father’s hand. She had so much to do, so much to see… there was one last thing that Giorno had promised her: taking her back to her home and burying her near her mother. When it was all finished, Giorno kept the promise, the last one he made to Trish.

[neo-culture-mafia]

Crush Culture (K.DY)

You were single...that was it.

The sight of seeing other couples made you want to punch them. You were 20 and still have never had your first kiss. You were okay with that too. You were afriad of becoming apart of that gross couple no one could stand.

Yet, it was annoying when everyone had a significant other besides you...even the Junior Forces had someone. You were forever alone.

Your attitude was always the reason someone couldn't hold onto you. You were a hand full and that was an understatement half of the time. You were a bratty girl that wanted love -- but no one wanted you.

You sat at your circle table during the Valentine Day Holiday Party that Taeyong threw everywhere...well...his girlfriend threw. She throws it every year to have an excuse to dress up in a tight red dress and talk with the rest of the girlfriends that were also associated with the Mafia. You were always seen as 'one of the guys' compared to the other girls. You were the only female genuinely recruited and not just fucking their way in. Whenever the girls would go shopping, one of the boys would try to convince their girlfriends to take you along -- trying to get you to make friends.

You've tried making friends with them but they're just too snobby and judgemental. Then at the end of the day, you're back at the boys' lounge sitting in the corner with a lonely bottle of Soju.

You hit the volume button on your phone again as you're met with the time: 11:32 and a new notification. You quickly unlocked your phone and checked it. 'Timer: Your timer for 5 minutes has run out.'

You groaned and locked your phone. You put it on the table with annoyance and just looked into the dancing crowd. You play with your sleeve as you grimaced at it's color. It was red. You hated red. But to make the boss' wife happy; you followed the dress code knowing you found a loophole and how it would piss her off.

It reminded you of anger...and how you didn't want to be here while the color is plastered over every square inch of this damn room.

"Yah." You looked up to see your hero of the night: Doyoung.

"What do you want old man?" You rolled your eyes and he scoffed. "Fine sit alone then." He said and you snapped towards him. "I was joking." You quickly blurt out and he chuckled as he turned back and sat in the chair next to you. The red silk table cloth moving as his legs brush against it.

"Why aren't you dancing?" He asked and you shrugged. "Why aren't you?" You asked but you already knew the answer.

Like you, he was a handful to have as a partner. He hasn't secured a woman yet which was looked down upon by some. Most didn't care, like the boys...but the girls wanted someone new every once and awhile to brainwash and make their own.

Doyoung was adorned in a leather jacket and dark jeans. He found a loophole in the dress code too; his dark t-shirt having a red logo on it. It pissed Tae's girl off but he couldn't stand her either.

"Just don't want to. Not my thing ya know." He shrugged and downed all of his red wine. "God this is terrible." He groaned as he looked at the empty glass. You chuckled at his face as he set it down with a clunk of the cold glass.

You both sat there in comfortable silence and just chilled with each other. "Hey losers. Why aren't you dancing?" Kun came over as his wife scurried off to the hoard of girls in the middle of the dance floor.

"Aside from the fact I don't want to be here in the first place...? I just don't want to." You said and he chuckled. "Here's a wacky idea. Both of you dance with each other." He said taking your glass of wine away from you. You whined and held your hand out for it back.

Kun grabbed your hand and placed it on Doyoung's. "You won't get paid if you say no." Kun said and Doyoung just groaned.

"Paid?" You questioned. "The guys are paying me 20 dollars just to show up." Doyoung said and Kun nodded at the statement.

"What?!" You shrieked. "Yeah I know it ridiculous righ-" "I wanna be paid too!" You cut off Kun as Doyoung laughed. Kun gave up on you two and walked away. "I'm surrounded by children." He shook his head.

"We're the same age dumbass." Doyoung called back and Kun just held up his special finger as a response. You chuckled at the response. You felt pressure on your hand as you saw Doyoung's hand wrap around yours.

"We're here...why not make it special?" He asked and stood up. You shook your head no as you tried retracting your hand. "I don't dance." You shook your head again.

"And you think I do?" He cocked an eyebrow. You looked at him and just sighed. "Fine." You said as you let him pull you out of your seat. He guided you amongst the bodies of slow dancing and couples kissing.

He brought you to the middle of the floor above the huge dangling heart that was set to burst with confetti at midnight. He turned you around and put his hands on your waist hesitantly. He was a good height taller so your forehead just met his lips. So in order to maintain eye contact you had to look up at him.

You were lost for a moment until you put your arms gently on his shoulder. Some random slow love song played through the huge speakers. You both talked about some upcoming missions before you were interrupted. "Yeah I get it. What we do for work is very interesting -- yet I don't want to overhear how you decapitated a guy while I'm kissing my girlfriend at a Valentine's day dance." Jaehyun butted in with swollen lips and a trail of red pigment from his jaw to his collar.

You laughed at his physical state, your head burying into Doyoung's chest out of instinct to hide your face. His hand subconsciously went up your back a little.

"Dude. Go get a room if you're that desperate." Doyoung chuckled. "Why don't you go-" you cut off the younger before he said something he would regret.

"Alright enough. We'll shut up about work." You said and Jaehyun rolled his eyes. "Thank you." He said and walked the couple steps back over to his girlfriend.

You looked up again to already be met with his longing gaze. His eyes getting bigger then readjusting to your bright eyes he was waiting to see...yet he would never tell you that.

"So...how was your day?" You asked trying to appeal to Jaehyun's wishes on choice of conversation. "It was good. Yours?" He asked you; as he genuinely wanted to know the answer.

"It was...boring." You chuckled at the thought of you staying in bed all day until being reminded of the dance.

"Oh well I hope it looks up soon." Doyoung said and twirled you. You giggled at the unexpected dance move. "Where'd you learn to do that?" You asked once his hands were back on your back and holding you close. "Takes two to tango honey." He winked and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks.

"Guess you're right." You nodded and played with a few hairs on the nape of his neck.

"Yeah?" He asked and you nodded shortly again. You two were getting closer. You hadn't noticed how his big eyes were and how they twinkled even in the dimmest of lights, or how natural his hands felt on your back -- bringing you two closer as your bodies pushed against another's.

"Yeah." You breathed. He was so close and you didn't know you had wanted this so much until it was right here infront of you. "Yeah." He whispered and brought you closer up to his face. Your lips were grazing each others. It was like sparks of electricity.

Claps became apparent as you both realised what was happening. You both pushed each other away and just straightened your clothes out as the confetti fell in huge clumps around everyone's feet. Some kissed their partner as they continued dancing to the music. You ran a hand through your hair as did Doyoung. Both of you clearing of your throats and looking around to make sure no one else saw what was about to happen. Yet they did and the group of people in the corner of the room groaned as half of them lost money on the fact you two didn't kiss.

"Well...see you tomorrow." You both turned to each other at the same time. "Yeah totally." You both continued to copy each other. "Goodbye." You waved and bowed slightly as you walked past him and out the doors to get to your car.

You walked to the curb where rain still drizzled lightly. You noticed you had a bounce in your step as you walked with purpose. The heat in your chest and cheeks hadn't stopped as you got in your car.

..

You drove down the highway back to your apartment as you blasted the most cheesiest love songs you could think of.

You arrived at your home and ran up the stairs to your bedroom. You turned on all your lights and your music. You hopped and danced on your bed for the rest of the night...Doyoung doing the same at his own home.

You were on cloud 9 and nothing even happened. Even though you were happy you didn't know that Doyoung was happier. He had been waiting MONTHS to make a move. He's just so happy he didn't have to force it.

Maybe the crush culture was disgusting and overrated. Maybe it did make you want to become violent and light every heart shaped thing on fire. Yet, with you finding your own interest...you were wanting to become apart of the same group you despised.

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

This was for Doyoung and his birthday💗💗

It wasn't my best work but I felt bad about not posting on his birthday. I needed more time to finish it and finally finished today.

With Love,

~J

[wonderlandmind4]

Delicate Stages Chp 13

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OFC Ana Rios

Summary: Bucky Barnes agrees to participate in Deprogramming Sessions. What he gets is not anything like he expected.

Warnings: Language. Mentions of past violence and brainwashing. Self loathing/doubt. Mentions of nightmares. 

Words: 3,017. @justreadingfics @nerdyandproud9 @buffy-morgendorffer-01

“They have stolen the heart from inside you                                                        But this does not define you”

***

A light drizzle of rain makes the florescent lights in the lab appear brighter. Ana watches what she can see of the droplets racing down the outside windows. She usually loves watching it, something always soothing with the sound. She never really associated this type of weather as gloomy, though today begs to differ. She can't shake the buzz of energy that prickles along her skin .

It doesn't feel off, necessarily, just dubious. It's not the first time Ana thought of that word, of it's meaning. Nor is it the first time she has felt it around the compound; uncomfortable thickness caressing her skin. Sometimes she hates her ability of being an Energy Alchemist and Empathetic Healer. Sometimes she can't place what type of energy emits from the air around her. Recently, it has been happening for the past two months.

Ana longed to stay in bed today, cozy and warm beneath her duvet. The rain always lulls her back into a deep sleep, but she forced herself to get up, got dressed, and went to the lab. She arrived before Bucky did, as she usually does, opting to leave him to whatever his morning routine is. She made a different drink for the morning, mixing her coffee and hot chocolate together. When Bucky strolled in, looking weary, she handed him the mug.

He hasn't said much since then. Just occasionally taking small sips from his cup, not even commenting on the coffee-cocoa mix. Ana folded her left leg under her thighs, stretching her right leg out, propping her heel next to Bucky's leg. The weather makes her knee ache, rubbing the joint to soothe it, internally cursing having a bad knee at the age of twenty-nine. She refocuses on the stoic man in front of her.

Bucky is unusually quiet. Sensing the heavy energy coming from him, Ana worriedly gnaws on her bottom lip. Even on his first day he wasn't this silent. He usually greets her, teases her about the coffee, or makes a smartass comment. Over the two months Ana has gotten to know Bucky, he is rather sarcastic and witty when he wants to be. She figures it's him rediscovering who he is, and slowly coming out of his shell. At least around her, and a few select people.

Right then, Max passes by, shoving his fingers through Ana's hair. He continues walking, trailing his arm behind him, letting her long hair flow through his fingers until he's too far away. It's a friendly show of affection, Max at times is able to spot when the energy of the day overstimulates her. She rolls her eyes though he can’t see, but when her eyes land back on Bucky, his own quickly advert from hers.

There's a firm set to his mouth, the corners of his lips tilted down. His eyebrows are pinched together in a frown. Ana notices his jaw clenching, probably grinding his teeth together. Bucky doesn't appear angry, just conflicted. A light mechanical whirling noise breaks the silence, her eyes falling to his left arm. His hand is clenched in a fist, turning his forearm back and forth, the metal slates shifting. Opening his hand, he finds something to pick at on his jean and pulls. A thread comes loose. He stares at it for a moment, then flicks it aside carelessly.

There is it. Ana pinpoints the feeling now, laced within his eyes, nearly drowning in the storm of his irises. Self doubt. She’s noticed it plenty of times before; this morning feels different. She doesn't want to push Bucky unless he is ready to talk, and normally she wouldn't do so. Today, it looks like he might need it. She knows Bucky is anything but fragile and doesn't want to be treated like so.

Ana nudges her boot against his right thigh. "I don't want to ruin your street cred," She begins, "brooding and all, but your energy is so thick it's making my coffee taste bad."

It barely pulls a reaction out of him. Bucky inhales slowly, and exhales the same pace. His eyes shift over to her, the slightest hint of amusement gleaming in them.

"Your coffee never tastes bad." He states. His voice is soft, yet rough around the edges from whatever he was lost in thought about.

She skips straight to it. "Did you have nightmares?"

Bucky inclines his head, placing his mug on the desk. "Realistic ones. Almost like I was reliving memories."

Frowning, Ana asks, "Why don't you come get me when that happens, Bucky? It's what I'm here for."

That familiar self-deprecating smile is back. Ana despises it. It makes her stomach clench with anger because Bucky shouldn't be hating on himself.

"Don't want to burden you." He mumbles.

Ana slips her foot off the desk, letting the heel fall heavily to the floor with a clack. Bucky raises an eyebrow in question. She sets her mug on the surface of her desk, sits up and crosses her arms, because no. She makes direct eye contact with Bucky, and to his credit, he doesn't cave.

"Fuck that." Ana states firmly, voice hardening.

Bucky blinks.

"Seriously. That is bullshit and you know it. You are not a burden to me. Neither is talking about your nightmares, or anything you want to talk about. Let's get this straight, Barnes. Do not think you are a burden to me ever again, got it? Because it won't be pretty and I don't take lightly my friends thinking that about themselves."

A beat passes. Then, "You are feisty."

Ana glares at him. Bucky sighs, shoving his hand roughly through his hair. He moves his fingers to scratch at the scruff along his jaw. Finally, he drops his arm only to twist both of his hands together.

"They're horrible, Ana." He confesses quietly.

"I just don't want them to consume you." She tells him gently. "That's taking a step back."

Bucky lowers his eyes to his hands, as if he can't physically look at her while he talks. "I had several of them, all night. I woke up, did the grounding exercise you told me, but each time I went back to sleep," He shakes his head. "It was like I had fallen into their grasp again. I have done horrific things, Ana. Things I never want you to find out about because I know you'll run away screaming and never look back. Realize you have been working with a monster, something that only lives in nightmares."

Ana tries to keep her heart from breaking at his words. "Apparently you don't know me well enough. Shame, I thought we were getting along swimmingly." She quips. "I'm not running. Bad for my knee."

A humorless chuckle escapes Bucky's mouth.

"I am not running, Bucky." Ana reiterates.

"Maybe."

She unfolds her arms. "You know you can talk to me."

Seeming to brace himself with a deep breath, Bucky continues. "It was like the nightmares played back a movie. Nothing but scenes of me...hurting people. Killing, destroying lives. Without even blinking. Without even stopping to wash these goddamn hands of their blood." He holds his hands out, staring down at them with disgust. "The weapons I've held. The grenades I've thrown. The triggers I've pulled. The necks I-"

His voice breaks, and he stops speaking for a moment. Ana remains silent as him gathers himself. She doesn't miss the way his eyes glisten, rimmed red at the bottom. Or how he swallows audibly. She wishes she had the power to just stop his nightmares all together. Bucky takes a few deep breaths again, dropping his hands to his thighs.

“Steve believes I didn’t do any of it. He keeps telling me that." Bucky continues quietly. "That it wasn’t me." A shadow comes over his face. "I think some small piece of me was awake, watching. As if I was trapped in my own body. I’d struggle to break free, but no matter how hard I tried, I lost. What does it matter if I was forced to do something, when it was still me? It's my fault. All of it."

He looks so broken. Ana can't begin to fathom what his brain is attempting to process, it makes her heart ache painfully in her chest. She yearns so bad to just reach out and hug him. To comfort him in a way she hasn’t yet. She doesn’t know that sort of intimate touch would be accepted. 

“Alright." Ana begins. Hoping her approach will help Bucky view it differently. "Let’s try reversing the situation then. In this case, you’re me and I’m you."

Bucky is visibly skeptical.

"You, James Barnes, grow up, find yourself in the middle of SHIELD, helping agents, guards, the Avengers and anyone else. I grow up, find myself in a World War I was drafted to fight in, but still wanted to serve and fight for my country. Suddenly, I wake up and I’m captured, tortured, brainwashed and made to be a weapon for the enemy for their convenience."

Bucky inhales sharply. Ana notes how his hands curl into fists, notes the minuscule waiver in the air around him. She continues.

"They’ve built me to control me, control my mind. Made to do their dirty work. I’m only to comply to my orders. To kill, capture, destroy. The moment I start to wake up is the moment they start again. They fill me with false information, sending me out like a beast for the hunt.” Ana pauses for a moment, leaning forward. “Tell me, is it my fault that I did those things beyond my control, that I wasn’t consciously acting out orders?”

He remains silent for several long moments. Finally, slowly, Bucky shakes his head.

“Alright." Ana put conviction in her voice. "I’m telling you the same thing. Everything that happened, everything Hydra made you do, was not your fault, Bucky. They had complete control of your mind and actions.”

Bucky breaks eyes contact, his lower lip quivers just slightly. Ana feels the guilt radiating off him, settles on her own skin. "Then how come I remember some of them? At least, I think that’s what it is. Some nightmares are of missions I don’t remember. Isn’t that my subconscious reminding me that I did do it? So, in a way, I do remember. I remember all of them.”

Considering this, she asks, “Are you saying, because you remember in your dreams that if you did have a choice, if they didn’t control you, you would have still done it? Go out and destroy people’s lives, as you say? Because I'm having a really hard time believing that.”

He doesn't respond. His throat bobs, his jaw clenches, and his eyebrows twitch down. Bucky doesn't speak.

“Listen to me, okay?" Ana urges softly. "There are horrible, soulless people out there, who don’t even blink at the acts they do, because they want to do it. They make their monstrous choices out of their own freewill, and that. That, is the difference between them and you. You had no choice, Bucky. You had the very thing all humans are given from God himself stolen from you. Free will."

Bucky's stormy gray-blue eyes snap to hers.

"Hydra stole your free will. They took it, and destroyed it with their machines and experiments. Filled your head with false information and claims. Consciously, whatever they made you do, was not you.  Again, would you have freely and willingly carried out every mission they gave you?"

They stare at each other. The deep set frown on his face makes Ana's hands twitch to comfort him. She keeps them steady on her knees though, carefully analyzing any minuscule expression on his stoic face. Ana keeps her own open, calm, but determined for him understand, if even for a moment.

Resignation flashes through his expression. "No."

He doesn't take his eyes off her, staring intensely at her, almost like he’s in awe. His eyes shift back and forth, like he's trying to uncover something hidden within her own. She doesn't know what he ends up finding, just knows that something changes in his.

“You are very adamant about this.” Bucky intones.

“Of course I am.”

He sighs, long and tired. “You may be right. You probably are right. I still feel this crushing guilt and regret inside me though.”

Ana takes a moment to consider that too. "I think, because you have those feelings, is what makes you, you. I think you have been fighting back for decades. It didn't take them a day to break your spirit. According to the file Sharon gave me, it took them nearly twenty years to do so."

"What!?" Bucky sounds aghast. "Twenty years?"  He pauses like he suddenly remembered something. Realization dawns on is face. "I wrote that down. I've been trying to piece together a timeline and...that makes sense. I wrote that down."

Ana smiles, despite the air around them. She gives in to the urge of her hands, places them gently on his. She provides just enough pressure to convey comfort, but also to let him understand how vehemently she believes this next part.

"That is you, Bucky. You have been fighting them tooth and nail for years, and you are still fighting it. I haven't known you for very long, but the first thing I saw in you was the fight in your eyes. This right here," Ana takes her hand way to gesture between them, "is the strength on your own free will. This is what you are fighting for. Yourself."

“You said you feel guilt and regret and that’s fine." She tells him carefully. "We don’t have to tackle everything at once. I just hope one day soon, that you’ll stop blaming yourself. You were a victim. You never asked for that. I don't care how long it takes me to convince you otherwise, but I will tell you every single day if I have to, that it wasn't your fault.

“I don't know if you believe what I'm saying now, or even if you'll believe it soon, but I'll tell you this one time. I believe it. Because I refuse to see you as the person, sitting in front of me now, going out there and shoving a knife in someone's head because you felt like it."

Ana takes breath to calm herself. She has a knack of being overly passionate. "If you don't believe it yourself, then allow me to believe it for you."

They haven't broken eye contact this entire time. Ana sees something shift between the blue fibers of his irises. He blinks slowly, and like an afterthought, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. His frown has slowly morphed from deep contemplation to light perplexity.

"How-" Bucky begins slowly, voice low as if he's unsure to utter his words, "what makes you believe in me so much?"

"You are a good person, Bucky." Ana tells him with conviction. "That's something you need to start believing in as well."

Bucky squeezes her hands, and it’s only then does Ana remember she’s still holding them. Something tingles along her skin, settles into her bones. Feels just as intense as the way Bucky is staring at her. The energy surrounding her is electric, no longer muddled and heavy with Bucky's guilt, his doubt. At the moment, Ana can't tell if she is actually changing it around, or if this new energy is emitting from Bucky himself. Either way, it feels much warmer than before.

After what seems like the longest time, but probably just a few minutes, Bucky slowly brings her right hand to his chest. Beneath her palm is the steady rhythm of his heart, beating just a smidge above abnormal. Briefly, she wonders how fast it was beating earlier, if Bucky's self loathing and anxiety were making it go into overdrive. It's never fun to wake from night terrors; or to believe everything is his fault.

"I try to remember what you told me the first time, Ana." Bucky speaks, voice just a whisper now. "To feel around me. It's hard. It's difficult to pull myself out of the confines of my own mind. But you, Annie, you are the one who helps me be able to do it. You're helping me."

Ana tries to calculate her breathing as Bucky's eyes fall shut. He continues, "I feel it right now. Your energy."

"My-my energy?" Ana stammers confused, because that's new.

"I'm not stealing you thunder, sweetheart." He quips, the tiniest smile breaking across his lips. "I can just feel the air change around me." Bucky slowly opens his eyes, and the slate of them pins Ana to the spot. "That was you this entire time."

Slowly, with a muddled brain, Ana nods. They are so intensely focused on each other, just several inches apart, that when a booming crack of thunder echoes outside, they both jump. Ana's hands go flying to her chest, startled out of her skin. Bucky looks like he just woke from a trance of some sort, blinking rapidly several times. The thunder breaks the mood. Making eye contact again causes them to laugh sheepishly. Bucky grabs his mug, taking a long sip.

"You mixed hot cocoa and coffee together?" He asks after lowering the cup, licking droplets off his upper lip.

Ana ignores the strange twist in her stomach. They were just startled out of a deep, profound conversation. "Finally! Here I thought my skills went unnoticed."

"What if you put nutella in it instead?"

"This," Ana sniffs, patting his knee. Is why we are officially friends."

"We weren't before?" Bucky pouts pitifully. "I'm hurt."

Ana rolls her eyes, pulling the bottom drawer of her desk open, taking out a white paper bag. "Scone?"

"You had those the whole time?" He deadpans.

She opens the bag and peers inside. "Chocolate chip, blueberry lemon or orange?"

"Chocolate chip, please."

"Dammit." She grumbles, giving him the scone.

Bucky breaks it in half, giving her the bigger piece. After that, the rest of the day is lighter, and the heavy energy dissipates. Bucky pats her shoulder in an appreciative gesture, Ana offering him a smile in return.

*****************************************************************************************

Previous    Next