#no reader insert

[vogujojo]

♡ DIGITAL HEARTS ♡

Nerdjo x fem!reader >>mean popular girl!reader is secretly an obsessive cozy gamer. nerd!gojo is weird, blunt, chronically online, and unfortunately exactly her type behind a screen.

setting: college au, no curses au, popular girl! reader, mean girl!reader, nerd!gojo, online friendship, slow burn-ish, flirting, eventual mature themes, author tries writing mean girl!reader but kinda fails, emotional constipation, toxic family mentions, no smut, author goes crash out

Word Count: 5.8k

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Gojo Art by @albdgreen on insta, Images used from digimon, heavy inspiration and images used from stardew valley, collage made by @vogujojo

Chapter one: GAME START?

By the time your bedroom door clicks shut, the version of you that belongs to campus starts coming off piece by piece.

The earrings go first, dropped into the little ceramic dish by your mirror with a soft clink. Then the rings one after another, leaving faint little marks around your fingers. After that comes the blazer Reina insisted you wear over your skirt because, according to her, it made you look "expensive but approachable," which was probably the most Reina way of saying she had approved your outfit before you even asked.

Your phone buzzes on the bed while you're removing your makeup.

mika: are we still going to that party friday?

reina: depends who's there

mika: depends if that guy from media studies is there

reina: you mean the one with the bad haircut?

mika: tragically hot

reina: seek help

You watch the messages pop up in the group chat and don't answer. Usually, you'd send something mean enough to make Mika scream and Reina respond with a tiny "don't be mean," even though Reina was always meaner when it counted. Tonight though, your attention keeps slipping toward your desk, where your laptop is already open and waiting.

Moonvale Crossing glows softly from the screen.

The loading menu washes your room in blue light, all floating islands, silver trees, and tiny animated stars drifting around the title. It is a ridiculous game, honestly. Cozy enough to look harmless, but addictive in the way harmless things always become once they give you daily tasks, a little house to decorate, and a mining system that rewards actual obsession.

Mika and Reina probably think you're doing skincare, texting someone, or watching some messy dating show in bed. They do not know that the first thing you do after washing off your mascara is log into a multiplayer farming-survival game where you own a moon cottage, grow glowberries, and have spent three real-life hours arranging pixel lanterns along a digital riverbank.

They are not going to know either.

Not now, not ever.

You settle into your chair, pull on your headset, and enter the public server.

Your avatar spawns inside a house, standing between a bookshelf and a kitchen. Outside, the lunar farm glows under a pale artificial night. Tiny star-moths drift around the garden beds, crystal goats sleep in their enclosure, and the meteor bell near the town square is silent.

everything looks peaceful. Then a notification flashes across the top of your screen.

>>A rare meteor shower has been spotted near the Hollow Crater. Moonsteel fragments may appear for the next 20 minutes<<

You sit up straighter before you even realize you've moved.

Moonsteel, finally!

You've been trying to craft the Crescent Glass Greenhouse for a week, and the game has been acting like giving you three pieces of moonsteel would collapse the entire server economy. The greenhouse isn't even necessary. It won't unlock some secret questline or make your farm stronger in any meaningful way.

It’s just pretty.

And you want it.

You open your inventory, grab your upgraded pickaxe, eat a stamina tart, and teleport to the Hollow Crater before anyone else can get there.

The game drops you near a field of black stone and glowing purple cracks, the sky above streaked with slow-falling stars. A few little crater sprites bounce around the edges, harmless until you mine too close to their nests. You ignore them and sprint toward the impact site, already scanning the terrain for the silver-blue glow.

There, half-buried in the crater floor, is a huge chunk of meteor rock, steaming faintly as tiny sparks drift off its surface.

Your fingers move fast over the keyboard.

Then another avatar runs onto your screen from the opposite side.

He has white hair, a purple jacket, and a little floating pet bobbing beside him like some accessory. His username appears above his head.

DigivolveThis

For maybe two seconds, neither of you moves. Then he takes one step toward the meteor.

Absolutely not.

You swing your pickaxe first. The meteor makes a satisfying crack sound, and a chat bubble pops up above his avatar almost immediately.

DigivolveThis: wow

DigivolveThis: okay

DigivolveThis: theft

You keep mining.

CerryHex: public spawn

DigivolveThis: i was here first mentally

CerryHex: tragic that the game doesn't reward delusion

DigivolveThis: it rewards speed and route planning

CerryHex: apparently not yours

His avatar circles the meteor like he's trying to find the best angle, which is insane because it is a game rock, not a real excavation site. You keep mining from your side, watching the health bar go down with every hit.

DigivolveThis: your positioning is bad

CerryHex: your username is a cry for help

DigivolveThis: your username is misspelled

CerryHex: it's stylized

DigivolveThis: sure

CerryHex: mine faster or cry quieter

For a moment, he doesn't move. Then his avatar steps in and starts mining too.

You hate that he has an upgraded pickaxe. You hate even more that he clearly knows what he's doing. Most random players are either too slow, too confused, or too busy jumping around to farm rare materials efficiently. This one moves like someone who has studied spawn patterns and probably has strong opinions about them.

The meteor's health drops fast. You're already calculating how the drops might split when three crater sprites wake up from the nest behind him and bounce toward both of you with angry little squeaks.

CerryHex: mobs

DigivolveThis: i see them

CerryHex: then do something

DigivolveThis: i'm mining

CerryHex: multitask

DigivolveThis: hostile work environment

One sprite launches itself at you. You dodge, switch from pickaxe to moonblade, and hit it mid-bounce. Another goes for him, and he moves at the last second with clean, annoying timing before striking it with a staff that sends out a purple spark.

The third sprite heads for the meteor, and both of you turn on it immediately. It dies in two hits.

DigivolveThis: acceptable combat response

CerryHex: don't compliment me like a loading screen tip

DigivolveThis: it wasn't a compliment

CerryHex: good because it was ugly

The meteor cracks again. This time, it breaks.

Moonsteel fragments scatter across the crater floor, and you lunge for the nearest pile at the exact same time he does. The game gives you four fragments, two starstones, and one meteor seed.

Not enough for the greenhouse.

You glare at the screen like that might intimidate the loot table into apologizing.

CerryHex: how many did you get

DigivolveThis: define how honest you want me to be

CerryHex: if you got more than me i hope your crops wither

DigivolveThis: six

CerryHex: die

DigivolveThis: you asked

CerryHex: i regret promoting honesty

His avatar stands there with the little pet floating beside him while the meteor shower continues overhead. More fragments might spawn nearby, but the main rock is gone.

You should leave. You got something out of it, and staying near this guy will probably only make you mad.

Instead, you open the chat again.

CerryHex: are you using a meteor tracker

DigivolveThis: obviously

CerryHex: share

DigivolveThis: no

CerryHex: ugly behavior

DigivolveThis: says the person who tried to solo a public meteor

CerryHex: i didn't try

CerryHex: i almost succeeded

DigivolveThis: almost is where people live when they don't understand spawn cycles

You stare at the message.

Then despite yourself you laugh laud enough that the sound feels strange in your quiet room. This person is irritating, definitely, but at least he is not boring.

Your phone buzzes again.

mika: helloooo

mika: party friday yes or no

reina: she's ignoring us

mika: rude

reina: probably doing a face mask

mika: without us? fake

You glance at the messages, then turn your phone face-down.

On screen, DigivolveThis has started moving toward the north side of the crater.

You follow without thinking.

CerryHex: where are you going

DigivolveThis: second impact zone

CerryHex: there's another one?

DigivolveThis: yes

CerryHex: and you were just going to leave?

DigivolveThis: yes

CerryHex: you're literally evil

DigivolveThis: efficient

He stops walking, and for one second his avatar just stands there under the falling stars.

Then another message appears.

DigivolveThis: keep up then

You smile before you can stop yourself.

The second impact zone is farther out, past the crater bridge and through a patch of silver mushrooms that drain stamina if you step on them. He knows exactly how to avoid them. You hate that this is useful. You hate even more that he slows down once when you get stuck behind a cluster of crater sprites.

The second meteor is smaller and guarded by more sprites and one lunar mole that keeps burrowing under the ground and popping up at the worst possible moments.

Somehow you end up fighting together in the loose and chaotic way the game allows. Not back to back, obviously. Pixel avatars don't have that kind of drama unless someone mods it in. He mines while you clear mobs, then you mine while he covers, and the rhythm works so well that it becomes annoying. At one point, a sprite jumps at your avatar while your health is low, and he hits it before it lands.

By the time the second meteor breaks, you have enough moonsteel for the greenhouse.

Barely.

He gets the rare drop this time: a Celestial Core, glowing gold in the pickup notification. You see it appear in the chat log and immediately feel betrayed by the universe.

CerryHex: no

DigivolveThis: yes

CerryHex: i did most of the work

DigivolveThis: bold lie

CerryHex: give it to me

DigivolveThis: no

CerryHex: i need it aesthetically

DigivolveThis: that is not a need

CerryHex: spoken like someone with an ugly base

DigivolveThis: my base is functional

CerryHex: that's what ugly people say about ugly bases

There's a pause. Then he sends a trade request.

You blink at the screen. The trade window opens and he places the Celestial Core in his slot.

For a few seconds you only stare at it, suspicious enough to feel like the game should let you squint.

CerryHex: what do you want

DigivolveThis: greenhouse access

CerryHex: excuse me

DigivolveThis: you're crafting the Crescent Glass Greenhouse

CerryHex: how do you know that

DigivolveThis: you were hoarding moonsteel and complained aesthetically

CerryHex: creepy

DigivolveThis: observant

CerryHex: annoying

DigivolveThis: also true

You should decline.

You don't.

CerryHex: fine

CerryHex: but if you put one ugly machine in my greenhouse i'm banning you

DigivolveThis: your design priorities are hostile to progress

CerryHex: your progress is hostile to eyesight

You accept the trade.

The Celestial Core drops into your inventory, glowing like a tiny captured sun. His avatar jumps once, and it looks accidental, which somehow makes it funnier.

DigivolveThis: server?

CerryHex: you're inviting yourself now?

DigivolveThis: i paid rent in celestial core

CerryHex: one-time visitor pass

DigivolveThis: exploitative landlord

CerryHex: thank you

You invite him.

Five minutes later he appears at the edge of your farm.

Your farm is not the biggest on the server but it is yours, and it looks fucking good. The paths curve around the glowberry beds in neat little arcs. The lanterns are placed by color and height. The river has moon lilies along the bank. Your house has a dark roof, violet windows, and a little reading nook visible through the front glass.

You spent hours making it look effortless.

He pauses at the automated sprinklers hidden behind flower boxes. Then at the storage shed tucked behind the trees. Then at the decorative crystal columns you placed to block monster spawns without ruining the view.

For some reason you actually wait for his opinion, which is stupid. He is a random online guy with an stupid username and suspiciously efficient meteor routes. His opinion does not matter.

DigivolveThis: huh

CerryHex: eloquent

DigivolveThis: it's not as useless as it looks

CerryHex: wow

CerryHex: frame that review

DigivolveThis: the hidden sprinklers are good

CerryHex: they're also cute

DigivolveThis: tragic priority but acceptable execution

You lean back in your chair, smiling like an idiot.

Then you catch your reflection in the dark part of the laptop screen and immediately stop.

You are not smiling over a stranger calling your sprinkler placement acceptable. That is not a thing you are doing.

The greenhouse takes most of your remaining resources to craft. When you place it, the whole structure builds itself in a soft animation of silver beams and crescent-shaped glass panels.

For a moment, both avatars stand in front of it.

It is really pretty actually.Worth the grind, unfortunately.

CerryHex: okay maybe i'm a genius

DigivolveThis: architecturally dramatic

CerryHex: say thank you for being allowed here

DigivolveThis: thank you for the greenhouse i partially funded

CerryHex: disgusting phrasing

DigivolveThis: accurate phrasing

Your phone lights up again.

This time, Mika is calling.

You let it ring twice, panic flickering through your chest even though she cannot see your screen. You mute your laptop automatically as if that would somehow hide the evidence from a phone call.

Then you decline.

A message follows almost instantly.

mika: RUDE

mika: are you with someone 👀

reina: she would've told us

mika: unless it's embarrassing

reina: then definitely

You stare at the messages a little too long.

On screen, DigivolveThis moves toward your newly built greenhouse and opens the door.

CerryHex: don't touch anything

DigivolveThis: i'm looking

CerryHex: you better be

DigivolveThis: with scientific curiosity

You type before you can overthink it.

CerryHex: i have to go soon

DigivolveThis: tragedy

CerryHex: try to sound less devastated

DigivolveThis: i'm in mourning

CerryHex: obviously

DigivolveThis: same time tomorrow?

CerryHex: for moonsteel?

DigivolveThis: for preventing you from wasting rare materials

CerryHex: i hate you

DigivolveThis: same time tomorrow then

You sit there for a moment, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

CerryHex: maybe

You log off before he can type anything back. Your room feels too quiet afterward.

You take off your headset, check your phone, and finally reply to the group chat.

you: friday depends who's going

mika: THERE SHE IS

reina: face mask done?

you: obviously

mika: liar you ignored my call

you: i was busy

mika: with what

you: becoming hotter

reina: acceptable excuse

You drop your phone onto your bed and look back at your laptop, where the Moonvale Crossing menu still glows softly.

A stranger named DigivolveThis now has access to your farm. That should bother you.

It kind of does.

Just not enough to cancel tomorrow.

The next morning, you walk into campus like you did not stay up until nearly two farming moonsteel with some random gamer whose entire personality seems to be efficiency, sarcasm, and being weirdly good at not dying.

No one would know.

That is the whole point.

Your hair is done, your outfit is clean and intentional, your lip gloss is exactly the shade Mika once called "aesthetic hoe" and your expression is the kind that makes people in crowded hallways move aside before they even realize they are doing it.

Reina is waiting outside the literature building when you get there, leaning against the wall with two coffees in hand. "You look like shit," she says as you reach her.

You take the coffee from her. "Good morning to you too."

"I said it with love."

"You said it with judgment, bitch."

Reina hums, eyes moving over your face in that quick, irritating way of hers. She always notices too much. A smudge in your eyeliner, a tired blink, the way you hold your coffee like it's the only thing keeping you upright. "Late night?"

"Not really."

"That means yes."

"That means shut up."

She smiles like she expected that and turns toward the entrance with you. The two of you barely make it three steps before Mika appears from behind one of the pillars, sunglasses in her hair, tote bag sliding off her shoulder, looking pretty in the very specific way someone can look pretty after definitely losing a fight with her alarm clock.

"Don't start without me," Mika says, squeezing herself between you and Reina like there was an assigned spot waiting for her. "Are we gossiping or being academic? Because I only have energy for one."

Reina gives her a look. "You never have energy for being academic."

"I have academic energy."

"You called symbolism 'author Easter eggs' last week."

"And everyone knew what I meant."

You take a sip of your coffee, trying not to smile into the lid. "Sadly, she's right."

Mika points at you immediately. "See? This is why you're my favorite."

"I'm not defending you. I'm saying you're understandable in the worst way."

"That still counts."

Reina mutters something under her breath about being surrounded by idiots, but she's smiling when she says it, so Mika lets it go. The three of you head inside together, falling into step without thinking about it. Mika starts complaining about the seminar before you've even reached the stairs, Reina corrects her on something from the reading, and you let their voices fill the space around you while you focus on drinking enough coffee to feel like a person again.

Literature seminar is already half-full when you enter. Suguru Geto sits near the middle with one book open in front of him and one earbud in, his dark hair tied back loosely. He looks up when your group passes, his eyes moving from Reina to Mika, then to you with that calm, unreadable look of his.

You know Suguru in the way people know each other when they share a major, half the same seminars, and too many mutual acquaintances. He is popular, Football captain, literature major, pretty in a way that makes people embarrass themselves, and somehow still the type to actually do the reading.

Mika once called him "hot in a tragic poem way."

Reina had said, "Unfortunately, yes."

You had pretended not to agree.

"Morning," Suguru says.

"Is it?" Mika asks, dropping into the row behind him.

Suguru smiles faintly. "Apparently."

You sit two seats away from him because sitting right beside him would feel too friendly and you are not in the mood to donate warmth for free.

Reina takes the chair beside you. Mika leans over the back of yours and immediately starts whispering about the guy in the front row who brought three highlighters and a tote bag with a quote from a dead Russian author on it.

"Do you think he knows women are real?" Mika whispers.

You glance over. "His tote bag knows. He doesn't."

Reina presses her lips together, trying not to laugh.

The lecture starts, and for the next hour, you are exactly who you are supposed to be.

Sharp, prepared enough, pretty enough. Bored in the right places and engaged in the ones that make you look clever. When the professor asks about narrative voice, you answer smoothly, and Reina nudges your shoe under the desk like silent approval. When Mika tries to online shop during a discussion about unreliable narrators, you lower your voice and tell her that if she buys that skirt, you'll pretend you don't know her. "You already pretend that," she whispers.

"Only when you deserve it."

"So daily?"

"Hourly."

By the time class ends, you have almost forgotten about Moonvale Crossing.

You are slipping your notebook into your bag when your phone lights up on the desk. It is not the group chat this time, or a campus notification, or some useless email you will pretend to read later.

It is the Moonvale Crossing mobile app.

You only have it because the game sends server pings through it when someone messages you, and last night, in a moment of absolute stupidity, you turned them on.

DigivolveThis: walked past your greenhouse again

DigivolveThis: it's pretty, but the layout is doing violence to efficiency

DigivolveThis: confusing experience. emotionally and structurally

You stare at the messages for a second too long.

A smile tries to happen.

You stop it before it can fully reach your face, but not fast enough.

Mika, who had been shoving her laptop into her bag with zero care for its survival, pauses beside you. Her eyes flick from your mouth to your phone, then back again. "Why did you just make that face?"

You lock your phone and slide it off the desk. "What face?"

"That one."

"I didn't make a face."

"You looked pleased. It was disturbing."

Reina glances over while zipping up her bag, calm in that annoying way that always makes her seem like she knows more than she does. "Who texted you?"

"No one."

Mika's eyebrows lift. "No one made you smile?"

"I didn't smile."

"You almost did, which is honestly worse. Very off-brand."

You shove your phone into your bag and give her a look. "Can you not hover? You're dressed like you slept in a dryer."

Mika looks offended for half a second before smoothing a hand over her hair. "Okay, first of all, this is intentional."

Reina gives her a quick once-over. "It isn't."

"Whose side are you on?"

"The side with eyes," Reina says, then looks back at you, her mouth curving just slightly. "But she's right. You were being weird."

"I got a notification. People get those."

"People don't usually hide them like they owe money," Mika says, leaning closer like proximity will magically give her answers.

„You guys are just so bored and brain dead that you imagine stuff“

Mika grabs her tote and follows immediately. "I'm not bored. I'm invested."

"In what?"

"In whatever made you look less dead for two seconds."

Reina falls into step beside you, coffee in hand, eyes forward but clearly still listening. "It's probably nothing."

"Thank you," you say.

Then she adds, "But she's acting like it's something."

You turn your head slowly and look at her.

Reina only smiles into her cup.

Mika points between you two as the three of you move toward the door. "See? Even Reina thinks you're lying, and she lies recreationally."

"I do not," Reina says.

"You once told a guy you were allergic to his cologne so he'd leave."

"That was community service."

You adjust your bag on your shoulder, keeping your face bored because that is safer than letting either of them see anything else. "Are we done?"

Mika hums, still looking way too pleased with herself. "For now."

"Great."

"But just so you know," she adds, stepping around someone's chair as you leave the row, "whatever this is, your face is not helping your case."

The hallway outside the seminar room is crowded, everyone spilling out at once with books, laptops, coffees, and the particular post-class energy of people pretending they understood more than they did. Suguru steps out behind you, sliding his book into his bag, when someone near the staircase calls his name.

"Suguru."

The voice is male, light, a little too loud for the hallway, and somehow already irritated by something.

Suguru looks up, and his expression changes just enough to suggest familiarity "There you are" he says.

You glance over because Reina does first, and Mika follows anything Reina notices like it is a campus sport.

A guy is standing near the staircase with a backpack hanging off one shoulder, a strawberry milk carton in one hand, and the kind of posture that says he has been waiting for exactly three minutes and considered that a personal betrayal.

He has white hair, black rectangular glasses, a NASA shirt, black jeans, and a tiny Digimon keychain clipped to his backpack. He is tall in a slightly unfair way, built more solidly than the rest of him suggests, and he looks like he either lost a fight with the wind or never agreed to participate in hair maintenance as a concept.

Mika leans closer to you. "Who is that?"

„How should i know?" the irritation in your voice still precent from the earlier conversation.

You have seen him before, maybe. Around campus. In the library once, possibly. He has the unmistakable energy of someone who belongs to the science building, the kind of guy people mention in passing because he got a perfect score in something horrible or corrected a professor and somehow didn't get smited on the spot.

But this is the first time you really look.

And he is weird.

Not ugly, which would be simpler. The outfit is weird. The milk is weird. The keychain is weird. Even the way he squints at the literature hallway, like the building has personally wronged him, is weird.

He looks directly at Suguru,"There you are. I swear this building has no signs anywhere."

Suguru adjusts the strap of his bag. "It's one hallway."

"It's a hallway with doors that all look the same."

"That means you got lost."

"I took the wrong turn once."

"You texted me three times."

Satoru takes a sip from the carton, completely unbothered. "Because your directions were bad."

Mika snorts under her breath.

The white-haired guy looks at her. He does not say anything to her, just glances once and then looks back at Suguru like he has already moved on.

Suguru looks between him and your little group. "Satoru, this is—"

Satoru cuts him off by pointing his strawberry milk carton toward the stairs. "Can we do introductions later? Shoko said if we're late again, she's starting lunch without us."

"She always starts lunch without us," Suguru says, but he is already shifting his bag higher on his shoulder.

"Yeah, but this time she said she'd eat my dessert too."

Suguru pauses for a second, then sighs. "Fine. That actually sounds like her."

Satoru gives him a pleased look then steps aside for Suguru to lead the way. "Thank you. Finally, someone understands urgency."

"You're friends with Suguru?" Reina asks, still looking at Satoru like the answer might be embarrassing for everyone involved.

Suguru opens his mouth, but Satoru gets there first.

"Don't say it like he lost a bet."

Mika lets out a small laugh, surprised more than amused, while Reina's smile sharpens.

"I didn't," Reina says sweetly.

"You kind of did," Satoru says, taking a sip from his strawberry milk like this conversation is already wasting to much energy. "It had that tone. The one people use when they find something in the back of their fridge."

Suguru sighs under his breath, but he looks more used to it than actually annoyed. "This is Satoru."

Satoru lifts the milk carton in a lazy half-greeting. "Hi."

Mika looks him up and down, less subtle than Reina and clearly not trying very hard to be. Her eyes catch on the keychain, then the shirt, then the milk. "Wow. That's... a lot going on."

Satoru glances down at himself, then back at her. "And yet I managed to leave the house without asking."

Reina's brows lift.

You almost laugh.

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek and look away before it shows, because Mika is still staring at him like she cannot decide if he is funny or if he should be studied in a controlled environment.

Reina, unfortunately, is quicker to decide.

"You're kind of rude," she says, soft enough that it could pass as casual to someone who doesn't know her.

Satoru looks at her properly then, eyes moving over her face for half a second before he answers. "You opened with judgment. I'm just matching the room."

Mika's mouth parts a little, offended on Reina's behalf and entertained despite herself. Suguru makes a low sound, almost a warning.

"Satoru."

"What?" Satoru says, turning toward him with the kind of innocence that is clearly fake. "Am I wrong?"

Reina lets out a quiet laugh, but there is nothing warm in it. "You always talk like this to people you just met?"

"Only when they start shit first."

For a second, even Mika shuts up. Then she huffs out a laugh and adjusts the strap of her bag. "Okay. Weird little guy has teeth."

Satoru gives her a flat look. "Tall little guy. Accuracy matters."

You hate that it almost gets you again.

The laugh sits right there in your throat, stupid and inconvenient, because he is strange and badly dressed and holding strawberry milk like a twelve-year-old, but he answers fast. Faster than most people do when Reina and Mika start circling.

Reina tilts her head, still smiling like she has never been insulted in her life. "Suguru, where did you even find him?"

"Physics building," Suguru says dryly.

"That explains so much," Mika mutters.

Satoru's gaze slides to her. "And yet you still look confused."

Mika's eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

Suguru puts a hand briefly over his face. "Can we not do this in the hallway?"

"I'm being extremely polite," Satoru says.

"No, you're not."

"I haven't called anyone stupid yet."

Reina's smile turns colder. "Should we clap?"

"If you need the encouragement, sure."

You have to look down at your coffee.

Because fuck, that was funny.

And that annoys you, because he is exactly the type of guy you would normally write off in three seconds. This guy is clearly just another weird STEM boy with no filter.

But people do not usually talk back to Reina like that.

Suguru says his name again in the way someone does when they know the damage is already done but still feels responsible for trying. "Satoru."

Satoru looks at him. "What? I was answering questions."

"You were making it worse."

"They asked bad questions.“ he say while his eyes wonder towards you now.

You are used to being looked at. You know the difference between admiration, interest, jealousy, judgment, and all the little versions in between. His look is none of the fun ones. It is quick, assessing, and unimpressed in a way that makes your spine straighten before you decide to do it.

He sees the outfit. The coffee. Reina and Mika. The gloss on your mouth. The way the hallway shifts around your group without anyone saying it out loud. Whatever conclusion he reaches, you can tell it is not flattering.

So you give him one right back.

Weird.

Definitely weird.

Probably thinks owning a NASA shirt counts as foreplay for the universe.

You let your eyes drop to the little Digimon keychain clipped to his backpack, then lift them back to his face with the kind of smile Reina usually called bitchy.

"Cute keychain," you say.

Mika makes a tiny sound beside you, barely held back, because she knows that tone. Reina's mouth twitches too, not enough to count as a smile, but enough to make it clear she caught exactly what you were doing.

Suguru glances at you, then at Satoru, like he is already tired on everyone's behalf.

Satoru looks down at the keychain. For a second, you expect something. A defensive little laugh, maybe. Some awkward attempt to explain it away. At the very least, a flicker of embarrassment.

Instead, he just lifts it slightly with two fingers, like he is showing off proof of purchase.

"Thanks," he says. "It's my favorite."

The answer is so plain that it throws you off more than a reaction would have. He does not shrink from it. Does not pretend it is ironic. Does not give you anything useful to work with.

Somehow, that is worse.

Mika tilts her head, eyes narrowing at the little figure. "Is that from one of those kid shows?"

"Digimon," Satoru says, without missing a beat.

Mika nods slowly, lips pursing like she is trying very hard to be polite and wants everyone to know she is trying. "Right. That makes sense."

"It does," he says, looking at her. "That's usually what happens when people recognize things."

Reina lets out the softest breath of a laugh, more entertained by the audacity than by him. Mika blinks, clearly unsure if she has just been insulted.

You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek.

Do not laugh.

Absolutely do not laugh.

Satoru adjusts the strap of his backpack and turns slightly toward Suguru, already done with the conversation in a way that is somehow ruder than if he had actually said something mean. "We're leaving."

Suguru gives him a look. "Subtle."

"I'm being efficient." He starts walking, then stops after two steps and looks back at Suguru with visible irritation. "Wrong direction. You lead."

Mika laughs before she can stop herself.

This time, you do too, quietly, because the timing is too stupid not to.

Satoru looks at you when he hears it.

For a second, your smile is still there.

Then you remember yourself and let it fade.

His gaze lingers for a second, its the type of gaze were you already know they have decided not to spend energy on you.

Then he turns away.

Suguru passes by your group with a small nod. "See you on Friday."

Then he follows Satoru down the hall.

Mika watches them go before leaning close to you. "That guy is so fucking strange."

Reina hums. "Painfully."

You glance after them once.

Satoru is walking beside Suguru now, talking with one hand while still holding the strawberry milk in the other. Suguru looks amused. Satoru looks irritated. The Digimon keychain bounces against his bag with every step.

"Yeah," you say.

Definitely weird.

[reginaphalangelobster]

Introducing....Firefighter!Dean

Firefighter!Dean who gets the phone numbers of nine out of ten girls he saves, dialling up the charm when they're cute, winking when they're dumb - seriously, who lights candles underneath a fucking curtain? Trixie, apparently. But he'll ask her more about it later, at dinner.

Firefighter!Dean who may or may not be the reason the "one firefighter per shower" rule was instated. He was definitely the reason for the sign.

Firefighter!Dean who finds a puppy in a fire one day and falls in love, claiming him in the name of the firehouse. And of course, he's gotta look the part.

Firefighter!Dean who jumped into the truck through the window once and now it's all everyone at the firehouse can talk about. Some good, some not so good. Mission accomplished.

Firefighter!Dean who acts like a dumbass, goofing around and having fun, but he can never leave the job at the door. He always wonders if he could have been quicker, saved a girl, stopped a guy from half melting and having to live with that shit. He never drops it, he can't.

Firefighter!Dean who sees it all when he lays down flat, all the faces, all the fire destroying those faces, that's why he doesn't sleep alone, then he'd have to keep watching it all on repeat, over and over.

Firefighter!Dean who doesn't care how messed up he gets, doesn't care if Chief Singer tells him to get out, he'll save anyone he can, even if he loses himself in the process.

I actually loved this so much @violained I really hope this is what you hoped for!!

[loquaciousscribe]

live this guy…

DICK GRAYSON GENERAL HEADCANONS AND YAPPING..

(NO EXPLICIT READER INSERT!)

he was the type of kid that would refuse to wear pants. thats why robin’s costume was like that i know it. somewhere in bruce’s utility belt was a pair of pants robin refused to ever wear..

i feel like he crows people. he see’s something he thinks somebody he knows would like he picks it up. this goes for buying things and also just shiny trinkets he finds out on patrol.

climbs on bruce. even as an adult batman is like his personal jungle gym.

kinda goes with the last one but he’s really clingy. if he knows you well and trust you, dont be surprised if he hugs you with his entire weight against you.

he can’t cook for shit. he’s never had to since his parents died when he was young so they never taught him and he’s had alfred making food for him since bruce took him in. he has to sheepishly call alfred to manage to make edible food that isnt instant noodles on his own.

practically incapable of sitting still. you’ll be talking to him then look away for one second then somehow he’s upside-down

type of guy to pretend not to know stuff so people can explain it to him because it makes them happy.

painfully millennial sometimes. Like he wants to act all cool and hip with the kids and he forgets he's lowk old now

no clue if this is actually anything butt i needed something a little self indulgent to get me back into writing

i have been busy as HELL. so sorry to all the people who i haven’t gotten to their requests but also im sure you all are used to waiting like months to get ur shit..

gyulpp sorry guys

[arbitraryglasss]

Who Am I, In the Mirror?

(Project Sekai) Mafuyu Asahina . Light Angst . Transmasc Character, Trans Realization, Depersonalization, Childhood Trauma, Hinted Dysphoria, Akiyama Mizuki is present for a bit

" Mafuyu contemplates identity as someone who has lived life being nothing but 'the perfect daughter'. "

Ao3 Mirror . 414 Words

TboyTober Day 1

——————————————————————

A reflection in the bathroom mirror. The same face as always stares back. Yet unfamiliarity lingers. The concepts named 'yourself' or 'myself' had an air of surrealism. But that isn't new by any means, at this point.

Explaining the why wasn't as easy of a feat as it should probably be. Friends pointed to the amount of time spent fitting the expectations of somebody else, even throwing out details and wants about oneself in order to contort identity and life choices into a way that'd fit the image others had in mind. That made sense. It was a logical conclusion.

But it didn't line up with these feelings. 'Feelings'. Could you possibly call them so? Emptiness. Hollowness. Yet it managed it's faint sting. Something was missing, after some thought that's the conclusion that came. What was it? What will fill the space?

A memory of a conversation rushes forth.

"Mizuki. Is it possible to.. Is it possible that I am not a girl?"

The words had been barely scrambled together within Mafuyu's head. So difficult to ensemble them together, along with the understanding of any reason to have to asked a question like that.

"Huh?" An internal wonder if anyone available to ask would get it crept up at that initial reaction, "Oh. I mean sure it is. But what brought this on?" A genuine curiosity. Contrary to the prior idea, there was nothing but understanding and effort to do so even further.

'What brought this on?' What indeed. Trying so hard to be the perfect daughter. Only recently realizing there would be other options in this life. Naturally contemplation popped up. Eventually landing on one word.

'Daughter'.

Hollow. Desolate. Along with the imagery that came with it. The appearance that had been worn and masked throughout a lifetime. Okay, what about other words?

'Girl'.... 'Ma'am'....

They all came up the same. Not unanticipated. But maybe it'll be the same for words of the reverse.

'Son'.

......

Was that warmth? Was that warmth that had flickered within that empty-feeling ribcage? More testing.

'Boy'... 'Sir'...

A new picture popped up. A figure resembling something masculine. More warmth. Spreading up to cheeks that reside with that surprised expression which broke through the blank one.

Well, that's a potential revelation. What to do with it, though? Phone out of pocket, back in hand, thumb hovering over the music track. The entrance to that monochrome space away from reality.

Some time to think was needed. And maybe some advice.

m.list |

tboytober 2025 m.list

[lunarsmochii]

The Embodiment Of Fear

Chapter 2- When Dawn Rises, Roots Entwined

Kana OC X Gojo Satoru

Tags/ Warnings:Graphic Descriptions of Violence, gore, blood, strong female protagonist, Toji Fushiguro gets his ass beat , Gojo Satoru makes an appearance woo, multiple flashbacks to different years starting with 1989, 2007, and 2013, Fighting, Ashes Of Red Incident mention, Zenin Clan mention,some of Kana's backstory is revealed, no smut this chapter, alot of lore try to keep up I will make a masterpost soon, Riko Amanai lives, Yaga Masamichi appearance, talk of Gojo Satoru's ancestors and other 6 eyes users.

W.C. 4.6k

"Take my hand / You know I'm here with you / Say my name / Cuz lies can't kill the truth"- Flower (feat.TABLO) XIA

MDNI Divider by /@ cafekitsune

A/ N: Enjoy. Sorry for the wait life got really crazy lmao. Also I changed Toji's story a little bit but might change it again tbh.

Kyoto, Japan Year 1989

“Invictus maneo”- I remain unconquered. Those were the words written on the walls in a shrine where Kana lived for decades, it is the future and an odd time. She had experienced so many things in her life. Friends and loved ones passed on, fought many wars, experienced all different kinds of love. The technology was the most challenging for her, all the inventions, medicines everything was so overwhelming.

It was a stormy night as the thunder and lightning illuminated the room. Each boom shook the shrine itself, the walls trembled. She stood at her altar, lighting the incense and candles.

Kana then closed her eyes and took a moment to relax herself. The muscles in her body were tense, refusing to untighten. Then she smelled the lavender incense hanging in the air and her muscles became less tense. Kana took a deep breath. She reached for her journal and opened it, taking a pen and writing into it. Over time her journals became filled with memories, stories, photos and her own feelings.

She began to write in her journal, flattening the page with her hand and with a stroke of pen. Kana wrote what she truly felt.

Kana had every journal stored in her shrine, kept in a safe place, even with the heirlooms, swords, weapons and even gifts from her husbands, but even though she loved all of them, her heart yearned for one man Hideaki Kobayashi, her first love and first husband. His stuff especially was kept in another private room locked and sealed with a cursed technique. Kana did not want anyone to see his heirlooms and everything they shared together, even his sword and samurai armor were kept there too.

As she wrote in her journal, tears fell down her cheeks, making it stain on the paper. Her vision becoming blurry, putting the pen down, she took a moment to weep, having a ball of tissues in her hands. As Kana sniffled and blew her nose, a knock at her door echoed through the room.

She immediately stood up, wiping her tears away, closing her journal. Without turning around and with a snap of her fingers, Kana opened the doors.

“So what brings you here, member of the Gojo Clan?” Kana asked sternly

They swallowed hard and bowed down on the ground.

“ Forgive me for bothering you at such a late hour, but Lady Naruko has given birth to a baby boy and it seems the boy possesses the six eyes”.

Kana hummed to herself as she side eyed the messager.

“ I see, very well then give Naruko and Yori my congrats and well wishes, and be sure to tell her to come visit me more often, one more thing if you're going to hide a knife, do it properly next time”.

The person was shocked the knife was discovered but it is not wise to underestimate a goddess.

They stuttered and caught off guard, sweat beaten down their face “Yes, forgive me… Lady Kana I- will do better next time”.

“Very well, on your way” she replied

They nodded and took their leave. Kana snapped her fingers once again, closing the heavy doors.

Signing, Kana wiped her forehead, standing up. She knew what this meant but the time will come when Kana will have to meet the boy.

But it won't happen anytime soon. Tapping her finger on the altar, Kana bit her lip and crossed her arms on her chest.

“ Suppose a walk will do me good”, Kana thought to herself.

The next few minutes , Kana exited her home. Taking a walk in the rain with an umbrella. She stepped into a puddle as water hit her boots. The thunder got louder and faster. Streaks of lightning shined in the sky.

Kama thought back to that battle, a battle that was not needed or pursued by her. But one that came to her feet like a blessing or a sort of item waiting to be taken.

It was a vicious challenging battle against them, it was one of the hardest fights Kana ever faced. But she claimed victory like a wolf holding onto its prey not letting go.

Kana knew it was only a matter of time before another threat came. Rather it be a god or a curse, or even something third thing like aliens. She would be ready.

Morning follows, Kana is already up and starts to get dressed, brushing her hair and putting it up in a bun with decorative hair sticks.

These hairsticks are a precious item to Kana, a gift from Hideaki. She wished he was here with her, his presence, his warmth, and most of all his smile. The light of a fire was memorized in her heart. Hideaki was the fire in her heart, the first one and then followed by many others.

Hideaki's one wish before he died, was for Kana to find love again no matter how many years, centuries. He wanted her to be loved and to never forget that she deserves love.

Tokyo, Japan Year-2013

Year 2013- The Meeting

A meeting of two of the most powerful people would happen in the year of 2013. When Gojo Satoru at the age of 23 years old finally got the opportunity to meet Kana The Goddess Of Curses, Destroyer of Gods, The Goddess Of Despair. The many names Kana received over the centuries. She was a living legend in the Jujutsu Sorcerer world.

Kana was also the one who stood above all else, the higher ups had no control over her. She did what she wanted to do of her own free will.

When Satoru approached the gates to her shrine. The big doors adorned with carvings of dragons etched into the wood, beautifully crafted. He was about to open the door when they opened on their own. Taking this as a sign to come in, Satoru walked into the courtyard; it was the most gorgeous courtyard he had seen. Adorned with small koi fish ponds, cherry blossom trees, flowers planted in pots.

Satoru looked around, and admired the work. Then he blinked and saw her sitting on a bench admiring the koi pond, as the cool breeze flew flower petals and landed delicately on the pond's surface. He wanted to hear everything about her past adventures.

She was beautiful and breathtaking even. Satoru was not one to be stunned when it came to women, but this one had him feel like time froze itself. Kana's long beautiful white hair and her golden eyes, piercing into his soul. She turned towards him and stared at Satoru tilting her head, giving a gentle smile.

“So you are the head of Gojo Clan correct, you're the one with six eyes and limitless, I remember that day receiving news of your birth, what brings you here Gojo Satoru, it cannot be for something as simple as hello”. Kana patted the bench, signaling Satoru to come sit down next to her.

Satoru walked over and sat down next to her facing the pond, watching the koi fish swim around. His long legs stretched out towards the edge of the pond itself.

Kana parted her lips, speaking first, “Tell me Honored One, what exactly do you want from me?, it has been many years since a Gojo Clan head visited me”.

Satoru took a deep breath and looked at her replying back “ I do not need anything from you, I just wanted to hear stories from you, the legendary Goddess of Curses and perhaps you could tell me where his fingers are”.

Kana glared at him and bite her lip “ I see thats what it is, his fingers… interesting, I will not be telling you where to find those things”. Kana leaned closer to his face “ So tell me who put you up to this?”.

Satoru took a deep breath replying “ The Higher ups”

Kana let out a laugh “ Oh again I see with their controlling narrative so sending the head of the Gojo Clan whose a handsome young man would change my mind?, I have to admit that's pathetic as ever”.

She stretched her legs and arms, standing up “Even after all these decades those old farts still try to find ways to control me and conform to their stupid rules, come Satoru I will show you something that you will want to see”.

He blinked and got up following behind her, leading to another building on the property. She used an old key and unlocked the door. Stepping inside, clearly it was a storage area. It was well kept with no dust in sight, full of artifacts and cursed tools.

Kana walked in and went to the shelf pulling the handle on the drawer. She turned around with a bundle of letters wrapped in cloth and had strings binding the envelopes together.

“ These are all the letters from all previous Gojo Clan heads dating back centuries, they wanted these letters to go to the next six eyes users and that person is you, they entrusted this to me for centuries, even after their deaths”.

He stared at her, blinking his eyes under his eye mask. Satoru took the bundle of letters from her hands.

“I didn't even know these existed” Satoru said in amazement

Kana smiled at him “That's because they entrusted it to me only knowing I would keep the letters safe, particularly you should read the ones by Gojo Suna and Gojo Rina. Those two were my best friends in different centuries of course”.

Satoru carefully looked through the letters, finding the ones by Suna and Rina. Kans watched as he went through the letters, his long fingers dedicately touching the envelopes. Eventually he found them and carefully opening them up, unfolding the letters

Satoru read the first one by Suna, taking in every detail and then read the one by Rina.He gasped at the new information in the letter itself.

“ You sly fox Kana,” Satoru mumbled.He knew she heard him and gave a small smile.

Kana put her hand on his shoulder “ Now that you know I expect you to keep it a secret from the old farts”.

Satoru nodded , “ Of course I will, now that I know, it will be easy”.

“ Come I will make some tea, you wanted stories right?, then follow me to the main house” Kana said.She walked as Satoru walked beside her.

He couldn’t keep her eyes off of Kana, a strong desire to protect her welled inside of his chest. Despite the fact that she did not need any protection.

Satoru bit his lip and said “ Say Kana a question for you”.

She quirked an eyebrow and looked at him while walking “ Hm what is it”

He responded “ Was there ever a time you felt like you yourself needed protection?”

Kana blinked and gave a tiny smile “One time before I became the Goddess of Curses when I was mortal at 7 years old , I did feel like protection was needed but truth be told I only wanted it from my mother.I would say when I turned 16 and joined the army. There was a time again that I felt consumed by fear, a need to feel protected”. Kana paused for a second and continued “ But my first husband always protected me regardless he did not care that I was a Goddess and an immortal though, he just saw me for who I was”

Satoru stopped in his tracks and looked at “Wait, you were married?”

She nodded “ Yes I was my first husband and then after he passed I spent many years unmarried and then love blossomed once again for me many times to come, love comes in many forms rather its platonic or romantic it can show in many ways Satoru”. She titled her head, “ Have you ever been in love?, cant imagine the head of the Gojo Clan unmarried”.

Satoru took a deep breath “ No, I am not married and have not been in love before”.

“ Hm interesting, well you still got time and you're young too, no need to rush, Suna was like that she did not marry right away either”. Kana continued “ Love will come to you when you least expect it, Satoru it will be like a wave crashing the shoreline, embracing you with a kind of warmth one wouldn't want to let go”.

For the first time in his life Satoru blushed. He felt his heartbeat rapidly. But at the moment Satoru didn't know that Kana's words slowly creeped into his heart, settling itself like vines wrapping around trees.

Kana beckoned him to sit down at the table, while she prepared the tea. The woman was elegant in a way, the way she moved and glanced every once in a while catching Satoru staring at her.

Giggling “ You sure are staring at me alot Satoru you alright?”

He stuttered “ What yes Im fine sorry, I dont mean to stare, it's just the first time I've been in your presence, its very how should I say it intimidating”.

Kana laughed at his remark “ Oh? are you scared of being in the presence of a goddess?”. She placed a cup of tea in front of him.

“ I- um no…” Satoru played with his hands nervously. Kana sat down across from him sipping on the tea, sitting it down in front of her.

“ Hm very well”.

Satoru cleared his throat, as he took another sip of his tea. The flavor was delicious and smooth on his tongue. It was very sweet yet subtle.

Kana spoke first “ Satoru what is it you want to hear first?.

He had this serious look on his face and leaned forward a little “ I want to hear about the Ashes Of Red incident in 2006, and do not lie to me I know you were there and saved Riko Amanai, almost killed Toji Fushiguro and saved Geto Suguru”.

Kana blinked and gave a small giggle “ I see someone did their research, very well Satoru I will tell you everything, well where to begin it all started”

August 2006- Ashes Of Red Incident

Tokyo, Japan- 12pm

Kana was already on the move, as she slayed cursed spirits, blood splattering on her face and clothes. The blood poured from the monster's dead corpses coating the streets. As she sheathed her sword, Kana ran at full speed.

Making her way to the Tombs of The Stars. Teleporting to the room, she saw Geto Suguru and Riko Amanai standing there. She was crying and saying she did not want to die and live with everyone.

Then out of the corner of her eye Kana spotted a bullet flying towards Amanai. Fastly Kana got in front of her and used her sword to block the bullet cutting it in half. There that stood in the shadows was Toji Fushiguro with a gun in his hand.

Suguru and Riko's eyes widened, shocked at what just happened. As Kana stood there “ You two get out of here now, Geto Suguru escort Miss Amanai to safety, I will deal with Fushiguro and be sure to watch your back too Geto”.

Her sharp eyes looked at Suguru and Amanai. It was not a look of kindness but a warning to leave now.

“But who are you, why are you here?” Suguru implored.

“ Me? My name is Kana Im the Goddess of Curses, the one who is going to save your ass tiny boy”.

He was in shock that the actual woman was here an actual living legend.Suguru swallowed as sweat poured down his face.

Suguru did not want to delay any longer, grabbing Riko's hand as they ran down the corridor.

Toji stepped out of the darkness and into view. This isn't going to end well for him.

“ Well I be damn you are real and the rumors are true,the goddess of curses greets me with her presence” Toji said first

“ Flattery will not get you anywhere Fushiguro, in fact I cannot want to beat your ass” Kana spat back

“ If you can beat me that is” Toji was being extremely cocky.

“ No I can beat you because I'm better and stronger than you will ever be, Toji”.

The words stung like venom in his heart.He remembered what Shiu told him to run if he ever came to meet the Goddess Of Curses Kana, because Shiu told him “ you would die in an instant, Kana is not one to mess with Fushiguro”.

“ I don't even need to use my sword against a dumb ass like you, who sold their own child to a trashy clan, but rest assured I will take action for that too”

Kana sped up and punched Toji in the stomach, then she used her other hand and grabbed his foreman, tossing him against the wall. Kana then brutally punched him in the face, the wall crumbling and cracking behind him making a large crater.

He spat blood, after each attack. Toji could not even react let alone land an attack on her. She was far out of his league in terms of strength and skills. Kana grabbed his neck and choked him as he struggled.

Toji used his foot to kick Kana but she dodged it, taking him by the neck. Kana slammed him into the ground hard. It cracked and shook the floor.

“ Do you give up bitch boy?” I can continue to kick your ass if you like” Kana said as she stood over top of him. She had her foot on his chest pressing down hard on his muscular chest.

Toji spat in her face, and the glare that came from Kana's face made him tremble. It was a glare of fear, he sweated profusely.

“ Fine Fine I give up” he choked out. Kana released her grip on his neck and took her foot off of his chest.

“ Wise decision Fushiguro, you are not as stupid as I thought you were”.

He got up on his legs, slightly limping a little, definitely a few broken bones. Kana signed and threw him a healing tonic.

“Here drink this it will heal you” She implored. Toji used his teeth to take the cork off and drank it all. Instantly he healed.

Kana side eyed Toji observing, noticing a seal on him, interesting no wonder he does not have any cursed energy. She walked up to him curious kneeling down “ Fushiguro are you aware of a seal placed on you?”

He blinked “ No I didn't, what do you mean by a seal?”.

“ I am saying someone placed a seal on you to prevent your cursed energy from surfacing”.

Toji's jaw dropped, he was bewildered. He didn't even know after all this time Toji had cursed energy but it was sealed.

“I can offer you a deal Fushiguro in exchange I can break the seal on you”. Kana said bluntly

“ What are your terms Kana?”

“ Come, we can discuss the terms elsewhere, Fushiguro,” she said.

With a snap of her fingers, they were in Kana's garden. She sat down at the table. Toji looked around and got up sitting down across from her.

“ My terms are that one you stop killing Jujutsu Sorcerers, two you leave the Zenin Clan alone and to me, and three, Toji you will work under me from now on”.

Toji agreed to her terms instantly which was a surprise in itself to Kana.

“ Good, glad we agreed on this quickly, now go get cleaned up and showered. We have much to do”.she said.

Toji excused himself and went to the bathroom, closing the door.

Kana took this opportunity to relax and stretch her legs, with her sword sheathed on her side.

Meanwhile,

Suguru and Riko Amanai made it out safely, heading back to the school. They both looked at each other and could not believe she was there and even saved Amanai's life.

But yet Kana did.

They both walked into the building and went to the teacher's office to find Yaga Masamichi, a teacher at the school. Suguru spoke first explaining what happened as Riko Amanai sat there listening.

Yaga's eyes blew wide behind his sunglasses.

“ You mean to tell me that Kana..saved you both and then both of you ran here, while she fought Toji Fushiguro?”.

“ Yes, that is correct,” Suguru replied.

“ I see this complicates things, that woman always brings everything to ashes,” Yaga replied.

“ Who brings everything to ashes now?” Satoru intervened standing between them.

All of them turned to Satoru.

Yaga motioned him to sit down and explained all that transpired.

“ Wait the stories are true? she's real..” Gojo looked at them all with a shocked expression.

“ Then how come I have never meet her before?” Satoru inquired

Yaga signed “ Because the goddess does not necessarily follow the Jujutsu Sorcerers rules nor does she follow any higher up orders, Kana does what she pleases, she is the Pinnacle of Power”. Yaga continued to speak “I am to say also she is above everyone even the 3 major clans, also Kana has no reason to have her presence here at school, and the 3 clans do not give a damn about her unless she becomes a problem which has not happened in centuries”.

Suguru interjected “ But she's a powerful ally right?”

“ Correct she is, could say Kana is like a beacon of light for others and for others not so much”.

Satoru stared off into the sky processing all this new information.

“ I would like to thank her for saving me though where does she live?" Riko asked.

“ That's very nice of you to want to do that Miss Amanai but Kana does not really get visitors nor does she welcome them, but you can try anyway” Yaga replied.

Riko walked to Kana's shrine. It was beautiful and elegant. She then knocked on the big door as it opened, and there was Kana standing there.

“ Hello Miss Amanai, what brings you here?”

Riko ran towards Kana and hugged her tightly. Kana blinked her eyes in shock and patted Riko's back.

“ There there small one, it is okay you're safe” Riko was shaking, as Kana wrapped her arms around Riko embracing her like a mother would with their own child.

“ Come sit with me we can talk over there” Kana took her hand and sat down with her at the table that was looking out at the garden. They both sat down as Kana poured tea.

Stirring the tea, Kana gently pushed the tea cup towards her.

Riko spoke first “ Thank you for the tea Lady Kana, I just wanted to come by personally and thank you for saving me and Geto Suguru”. She took out a trinket of a starfish.

“ I heard you take offerings so I got you this”. Riko smiled

Kana smiled so softly “ Thank you Miss Amanai I love it, by the Miss Amanai you do not have any family correct? , besides Misato Kuroi, who is your caretaker?”.

“ Yes that is correct”

“ I see and you are aware that more people will be after you?”.

She nodded

“ Then I have a proposal for you, come live with me and your caretaker too, under my protection no one will ever hurt you or use you for anything ever again”.

Riko bit her lip “ I accept I would rather not be hunted down forever”.

“ Very good, I will make the necessary arrangements”.

Kana woke from her accidental nap. The sun was shining on her face as she sat up and yawned, rubbing her eyes. To her right she noticed Toji staring intently at her.

“Morning your highness , nice nap?”

“ Yes indeed Fushiguro I was dreaming of the past, a long time ago way before you were even born”.

Toji could not even deny the fact that she was extremely beautiful. He gulped thickly, having one hand resting on his cheek. Kana leaned over and flicked his forehead.

“ There the seal is broken, Fushiguro you are welcome”.

“ You flicked me on the forehead, how is the seal broken… shouldn't there be like a ritual or something???”.

Kana laughed so hard, she started wheezing “ What no, that requires a mass amount of cursed energy and while yes I do have it, flicking you on the forehead with the tiniest amount of cursed energy did the trick on you”.

All Toji could muttered was “Oh”. He did not expect to see Kana of all people laughing so freely.

“ Now that, that's taken cared of, its time we move, there is something that we must attend to that requires our attention”.

“ And what is that exactly?”

“The Ashes of Red Incident, you've heard of it yes?”.

He nodded “ Yeah I have its a famous incident that happened many years ago”.

“ Correct, it is under my watch, however occasionally the sky will turn red, ashes of blood fall from the clouds, it is up to me to reseal it and make sure no cursed spirits enter the real world, which is why the gate has to be resealed, it is deep in the forest, I have a feeling a certain clan is behind the broken seal”.

“ You don't mean-”

“ I do mean exactly the Zenin Clan, at least a few fools in that family have brains for worms, thinking they can fool me”.

Kana once again snapped her fingers and together they were in the forest, near the gate. It smelled like iron and burnt flesh.

“ Now Fushiguro witness real power”.

Kana unshealthed her sword, walking forward the ground shook with vibrations.

With one single swing Kana thrusted her sword towards the gate, streaks of lightning streamed from her sword screaming and hitting the monstrous gate.

As the sky turned red, the clouds turned to red ashes falling onto the ground, it was as if the dirt was painted with blood.

Kana took out her wooden umbrella shielding herself from the onslaught pouring of red ashes. Toji took cover next to her.

“ It is dealt with for now Fushiguro and those Zenin brats are next”

Present- 2013

Kana's Shrine

“ And that is what happened Satoru”.

He rubbed his chin “ I see so that's what happened”.

“ But I did eventually move the gate elsewhere so no one would ever find it”

“ And where is it now?”.

“ Guarded by a another God”

“ Come again?”

“Yes guarded by another god, well technically not really, but I forced them into doing it Satoru”

“ You are one terrifying woman Kana”

She snorted “ I will choose to take that as a compliment”.

Satoru says his thanks before he left,

“ One more thing Kana I have to ask”

“Go ahead”

“ Would you be willing to have dinner with me? I didn't get a chance to hear your stories and my time is limited today”.

“ Consider it a deal, Gojo Satoru take care young man”.

Gojo Satoru learned many things today and even the truth, now there was a possibility of getting even closer to Kana. Something that excited him for the first time in a long time.

Kana went back into the main house and took a piece of paper unfolding it was a note from Hideaki from a very long time ago. He never got to finish this poem.

But it started with “When Dawn Rises, Roots Entwined”.

Roots begun to slowly grow in Kana's heart the vines reaching a sort of claim on herself surely eventually the roots will soon bloom flowers.

All rights reserved. @lunarscosmos . You will not copy, distribute, feed my writing into Ai, AI train, plagiarize, make ai art, claim as your own story,translations.

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Hard Hitter

Happy Wednesday Readers!!! I know,  it's been a minute since I have grace you all with my writing, good, bad, or otherwise. Life has been a bit hectic to say the least as it has been for everyone I am sure. But hopefully I will be getting back into the swing of it, and writing/posting more.

I have been working on a few things, and been throwing some ideas around, possibly making a few changes to how I do/write moving forward, I am not sure if they will go over well with the fanfic community, but we will see. 

anyhoo, let's get to it. This is a one shot, request/ask that I am filling, in for @nancymcl for some reason my desktop version of Tumblr won't let me pull her ask so I will just retype her ask here: 

I am just now getting to Leverage. (Because Christian Kane) Would love to see how Eliot would react to Dean if they ran across each other while the boys were on a hunt.

I mean come on this sounds amazing! I hope I did you justice and you like what I came up with. I also tried something different with the "mood board" or "photo card" do we like it? I mean I could find a photo of Christian Kane shirtless in a boxing ring (the tap out job) but Dean not one I like, and AI I could not for the life of me, make anything work. Please for the love of God, anyone out there that can make good AI fan art, teach me your ways, send me some basic prompts and settings that I need to use, I will be forever grateful.

But, again anyhoo....back to the story at hand: 

Plot: Eliot Spencer from Leverage and Dean Winchester from Supernatural. The story follows them as they discover an underground fighting ring with supernatural elements and eventually team up to take it down. We also have appearances from Hardison, Parker, Sophie, Nate, and Sam Winchester to round out the supporting cast. 

This is intended as a one shot, but I did leave the door open for a series or a follow up. Let me know in the comments, if that is something you all would like to see???? Suggestions on where this could go. 

Word Count: 3K+

-Multi POV-

Feedback, likes and reblogs are always welcomed. Please don't post as your own work, this is my work. If you would like to be added to my tag list, just ask, I am always happy to add you.

Thanks!

-Eliot POV-

The warehouse district of Boston wasn't Eliot Spencer's favorite place to be at 2 AM on a Tuesday, but after three weeks of fighting in this underground ring, he was finally getting close to the real money. Tonight was the big one—a hundred grand in unmarked bills riding on his fight. Not for himself—those days were behind him—but for the job. Hardison had tracked suspicious financial movements to this fight club with stakes higher than any legitimate boxing commission would allow, and Eliot had gone in as a fighter to infiltrate from the inside.

"I don't like this, Eliot." Parker's voice crackled through his earpiece. "The heat signatures in that building don't make sense."

Eliot adjusted his jacket, sore muscles protesting from his previous fights. "What do you mean they don't make sense?"

"Some of them are... too hot. Like, way too hot for a human." There was concern in her voice, rare for someone who typically treated danger like a playground.

"It's probably just the thermal imaging acting up," Hardison chimed in. "These warehouse walls are thick, man."

"Stay focused, Eliot," Nate's steady voice cut in. "You've built your reputation as the Mountain Man for weeks now. Tonight we find out who's really behind this operation."

Eliot grunted. "I've beaten everyone they've put in front of me except the champion. Tonight I finally get my shot at him."

The doorman—all three hundred pounds of him—gave Eliot a respectful nod as he walked through. Several spectators recognized him, some slapping him on the back, others quickly moving out of his way. Three weeks of bruising victories had earned him both fans and respect in this underground circuit. The interior smelled of sweat, blood, and something else... sulfur? Eliot put that in the back of his mind as he made his way through the crowd. His eyes, as always, noted the exits, the guards, and the cage in the center where two men were currently beating each other senseless.

Or rather, one was beating the other senseless. The victor moved with a fluid grace that seemed almost inhuman. His eyes flashed—and for a moment, Eliot could have sworn they turned completely black.

"Found our guy," he muttered into his comm. "The winner in the cage. Something's off about him."

"Define 'off,'" Sophie's cultured voice replied.

"Eliot, get visual," Nate instructed. "Hardison needs to run facial recognition."

Before Eliot could answer, the announcer bellowed into the microphone: "AND STILL UNDEFEATED! THE DEMON OF DETROIT!"

The crowd roared as the fighter raised his arms, a malevolent grin spreading across his face.

"Looking for fresh meat!" The announcer continued. "Who's brave enough to challenge our champion?"

Eliot was about to volunteer when another voice rang out.

"I'll take him on!"

The crowd parted to reveal a tall man with close-cropped hair and a cocky grin. Something about him seemed familiar to Eliot—the stance, the awareness, the way his eyes scanned the room. This wasn't some amateur looking for glory. This was a professional.

The newcomer entered the cage, shrugging off a worn leather jacket, his red flannel, and black t-shirt to reveal his bare muscled chest. Raising up his arms, to get the crown on his side, some cheering him on, he moves around the ring, as he turns towards Eliot, Eliot can now see, near the man's left side of his chest near his heart what looked suspiciously like protective sigils tattooed.

"Name?" The announcer asked.

"Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Hardison, you getting this?" Nate asked over the comms. "Run this Dean Winchester through the system."

"Already on it," Hardison replied. "But I gotta tell you, this guy's record is... interesting. Multiple reports of death, grave desecration, impersonating federal agents. Either we're dealing with the world's luckiest criminal or something else entirely."

-Dean POV-

Dean hadn't expected to find a demon fighting ring in Boston, but the trail of mysteriously broken-necked losers had brought him here. Sam was working another angle—checking the morgue for sulfur residue on the corpses—while Dean went straight to the source.

The "Demon of Detroit" wasn't subtle with his nickname, but Dean doubted anyone here realized it was literal. The black eyes had confirmed his suspicions. Now he just needed to get close enough to exorcise the bastard before he killed anyone else.

What he hadn't counted on was being matched up against another fighter first—a compact, hard-looking man with long hair and a stare that could cut glass. The crowd was already chanting "Mountain Man" as the fighter approached the cage.

"Change of plans, folks!" The announcer called out. "Our new challenger will face our local favorite, the undefeated Mountain Man, before earning a shot at the champion!"

Dean cursed under his breath. This Mountain Man had clearly been fighting here for a while—the crowd loved him, and judging by the announcer's introduction, he hadn't lost a match yet. He looked like he knew what he was doing, and Dean couldn't afford to get beaten to a pulp before dealing with the actual demon.

As they circled each other in the cage, Dean tried to size up his opponent. The way this guy moved told Dean everything he needed to know—trained, experienced, and dangerous. Far more skilled than anyone else he'd seen in these kinds of underground fights.

"Hey, man, I'm not here for you," Dean said quietly.

The long-haired fighter didn't blink. His eyes showed a calculating intelligence that didn't match the typical brawler profile. "Then why are you here?"

"Would you believe I'm hunting a demon?"

That earned him a scoff. "Sure. And I'm here collecting Easter eggs."

The first punch came so fast Dean barely saw it, connecting with his jaw and sending him staggering back. He recovered quickly, blocking the next blow and countering with one of his own that the other man slipped with practiced ease.

"You're good," Dean admitted, tasting blood. "Military?"

"Something like that," the man replied, landing a kick to Dean's thigh that nearly buckled his knee. "You?"

Dean grinned through the pain. "Family business."

They exchanged blows for another minute, neither gaining a clear advantage, though Dean suspected the other man was holding back.

"Look," Dean grunted after barely dodging a lightning-fast combination, "I'm serious about the demon thing. The champion? Black eyes? Sulfur smell? Ringing any bells?"

The other fighter paused, reassessing Dean. "You're saying the champion is... actually a demon?"

"Bingo." Dean used the momentary distraction to pull a small flask from his pocket. "Holy water. Watch."

He unscrewed the cap and flicked a few drops toward the champion, who was watching their fight with interest from the side of the cage. The water hit his arm, and the skin immediately sizzled and smoked. The demon hissed, eyes flashing black.

The long-haired man's expression hardened. "I'll be damned."

"Not yet," Dean said, "but if we don't stop this thing, plenty of others will be."

-Eliot POV-

Eliot had seen a lot of strange things in his life—corrupt governments, experimental weapons, Hardison's attempts at cooking—but actual demons were new.

"Guys," he whispered into his comm, "you hearing this?"

"If you're asking if we heard that demons are real and currently running a fight club, then yeah," Hardison replied, voice higher than usual. "Man, I was happier not knowing that."

"Eliot," Parker cut in, "the thermal scan makes sense now. That champion guy is literally burning hotter than a human should."

"Stay calm, everyone," Nate's voice came through, steady as always despite the revelation. "If demons are real, then this is a lot bigger than we thought. Eliot, work with this Winchester character if you think he's legitimate. Sophie, I need you to start looking into occult connections with these fights."

The Winchester guy was eyeing him, waiting for a response. Eliot made a quick decision. "I'm Eliot Spencer. Sounds like we're both here to shut this operation down."

"Dean Winchester. And yeah, I'm here to exorcise that demon and find out who's behind this. These fights are being used to identify potential vessels—humans strong enough to contain powerful demons."

Eliot nodded. "My team tracked money from some suspicious deaths back to this place. We thought it was just illegal gambling."

"Oh, there's gambling alright," Dean said. "Just with souls instead of cash."

The announcer was getting impatient. "Fight or forfeit, gentlemen!"

Dean leaned in closer. "We need to make this look good, then take on the demon together. I've got holy water and salt, but I'll need a distraction to start the exorcism."

Eliot resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Holy water and salt? Why don't we just hit him really hard until he stops moving?"

"Because he's a demon," Dean said slowly, as if explaining to a child. "Physical damage won't stop him."

"You'd be surprised what physical damage can accomplish," Eliot muttered, but nodded his agreement. "Fine. Your way first. If that fails, we try mine."

"Eliot," Nate's voice came through his earpiece, "I'm sending Parker and Hardison to back you up. Sophie and I will work on identifying who's really pulling the strings here."

They started fighting again, this time choreographing it to look convincing while minimizing actual damage. Dean was skilled—not quite at Eliot's level, but he clearly had a lifetime of training.

"On three," Dean whispered after a particularly convincing exchange of blows, "I'll go down. You'll be declared the winner and face the demon. I'll circle around outside the cage."

Eliot nodded imperceptibly, then landed the pulled punch that Dean sold with an oscar-worthy performance, collapsing to the mat.

The crowd roared as Eliot was declared the winner. As promised, his next opponent would be the undefeated champion. As Dean was helped out of the cage—slipping away from his handlers at the first opportunity—Eliot prepared himself to face a literal demon.

"Hardison," he muttered, "I'm about to fight an actual demon. Any advice?"

"Besides 'don't'?" Hardison replied. "Man, I don't know. I'm still processing the fact that demons exist!"

"Focus, Eliot," Nate commanded. "Demon or not, this is just another opponent. Find its weakness and exploit it."

"Sophie, can you create a distraction if this goes south?" Eliot asked.

"Already on it," she replied smoothly. "I've identified the circuit breaker. On your signal, we can cut the lights."

The demon entered the cage, grinning at Eliot with malevolent confidence. Up close, the sulfur smell was overwhelming.

"You look tasty," the demon said, his voice oddly layered. "Strong vessel. Good soul. I'll enjoy wearing you to the prom."

"Yeah, not interested," Eliot replied, falling into his fighting stance.

The bell rang, and the demon attacked with inhuman speed. Eliot barely managed to dodge, countering with a strike to the kidney that would have dropped a normal man. The demon merely laughed.

From the corner of his eye, Eliot spotted Dean slipping along the edge of the crowd, a duffel bag now in his hand. Whatever plan the hunter had, Eliot needed to buy him time.

The demon landed a punch that felt like being hit by a truck. Eliot rolled with it, using the momentum to create distance. His ribs protested, and he tasted blood.

"Your friend was right," the demon taunted. "Holy water and salt are the traditional methods. But he forgot the most important thing—you need to trap me first."

"Good thing I didn't forget," Dean's voice called out as he flung a handful of white powder in a circle around the cage. Salt, Eliot realized. Completing a circle that Dean must have started laying down while everyone was distracted by the fight.

The demon snarled, lunging for Eliot with renewed fury, clearly hoping to finish the fight before Dean could complete whatever ritual he was planning.

"Now would be good!" Eliot shouted, barely avoiding a blow that would have crushed his windpipe.

Dean began reciting something in Latin, his voice carrying through the suddenly quiet warehouse. The crowd, confused but sensing something was wrong, began to murmur uneasily.

The demon screamed in rage, its attacks becoming wilder. Eliot took advantage, using the demon's fury against it, deflecting rather than blocking, conserving his strength.

"Sophie, lights!" he called.

The warehouse plunged into darkness, illuminated seconds later by emergency lights that cast everything in an eerie red glow. In the confusion, Dean had somehow made it into the cage and was continuing his Latin chant while flinging holy water at the demon, who screamed as each drop hit like acid.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..." Dean continued, voice rising.

"Eliot, remember that move you used in Belgrade?" Nate's voice was calm but urgent in his ear. "The one that disrupted the energy flow? Try it now."

The demon, now desperate, broke through Eliot's guard and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off his feet. "I'll snap his neck before you finish, hunter!"

Eliot, vision darkening from lack of oxygen, did what he did best. He hit the demon. Hard. Right in the throat, using a strike he'd learned from a monastery in Tibet that was specifically designed to disrupt energy flow. It wasn't meant for demons, but apparently interdimensional entities still needed functioning vessels.

The demon's grip loosened enough for Eliot to break free, gasping for air.

"Keep chanting!" he rasped at Dean. "I've got this!"

"Holy water works better!" Dean argued, even as he continued the exorcism.

"Just finish the damn Latin!" Eliot snapped, launching into a flurry of strikes targeting nerve clusters and pressure points that would incapacitate even superhuman strength if hit precisely enough.

The demon staggered under the assault, its movements becoming jerky and uncoordinated. Dean's exorcism reached its crescendo, and the demon threw its head back, black smoke pouring from its mouth and eyes as it screamed in unholy agony.

The human host collapsed, unconscious but alive. Around them, chaos had erupted as the crowd realized something very wrong was happening. Several black-eyed individuals were trying to flee, only to be intercepted by a blonde woman wielding what looked like a taser and a tall, shaggy-haired man with a shotgun.

"That's my brother Sam," Dean explained, catching his breath. "Looks like your team met up with him."

"Parker and Hardison," Eliot nodded. "Sophie's probably already got the money trail locked down." He eyed Dean. "Not bad with the Latin. Still think a good punch works faster."

Dean rolled his eyes. "The punch wouldn't have expelled the demon. The exorcism did that."

"My punch gave you time to finish the exorcism," Eliot countered. "And it didn't require any arts and crafts supplies."

"It's not arts and crafts, it's—" Dean started, then stopped as he noticed more demons converging on their position. "We can argue methodology later. Right now, we've got more company."

Eliot cracked his knuckles. "Fine. We'll try it your way again. But if that doesn't work fast enough..."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean conceded, pulling out more holy water and a sawed-off shotgun loaded with salt rounds. "Then we punch things harder. I got it."

"Eliot, Dean, get ready," Nate's voice came through the comm. "Parker and Hardison have set up a trap by the east exit. Herd them that way."

Together, they turned to face the oncoming demons, an unlikely alliance of hitter and hunter, bound by a common enemy and a shared determination to protect the innocent—even if they couldn't agree on the best way to do it.

Three hours later, the warehouse was quiet again. The fighting ring had been dismantled, the demons exorcised, and the human organizers of the operation—a group of occultists trying to create the perfect vessels for higher-level demons—were zip-tied and waiting for the authorities, though their statements about demonic possession would likely land them in psychiatric care rather than prison.

"So you guys do this kind of thing often?" Eliot asked, pressing an ice pack to his bruised ribs as the two teams compared notes in the Leverage headquarters.

"Hunting demons? Yeah, family business," Dean replied. His brother Sam was deep in conversation with Hardison about tracking patterns of supernatural activity.

"And you... steal from the rich and give to the poor?" Sam asked, looking up from Hardison's array of screens.

"We provide... alternative leverage," Sophie explained diplomatically.

Nate sipped his whiskey thoughtfully. "We help people who have nowhere else to turn. When the law fails them, we provide... other options."

Parker, who had been studying Dean's collection of weapons with undisguised interest, picked up a flask of holy water. "So this stuff actually burns demons? That's so cool."

"Not as cool as watching Eliot punch that demon in the throat," Hardison added. "Man, I didn't think anything could make that thing flinch, and then you hit it with some Crouching Tiger Hidden Hitter move."

Eliot shrugged. "Just because something's supernatural doesn't mean it doesn't have weak points."

"Still," Dean insisted, "you need the right tools for the job. Holy water, salt, iron, Latin exorcisms—these things work because they have power over the supernatural."

"And a well-placed hit works because physics is physics," Eliot countered. "Even for demons."

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. Next time we fight a werewolf, you can try punching it while I use silver bullets, and we'll see who gets better results."

"Next time?" Sophie raised an eyebrow.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "This operation was bigger than just Boston," Sam explained. "We found evidence of similar fighting rings in five other cities. They're systematically testing human hosts for demon compatibility."

"That kind of geographical spread means serious organization," Nate mused, swirling the whiskey in his glass. "Money trails, shell companies, probably legitimate businesses as fronts."

"Exactly," Sam nodded, impressed with Nate's quick grasp of the situation. "We've been tracking the supernatural side, but the human infrastructure behind it has been harder to crack."

"Well, that's our specialty," Nate smiled, a calculating look in his eyes that his team knew well. "I think we might have a mutually beneficial partnership opportunity here."

"Sounds like our kind of problem," Parker grinned.

"And the demons are definitely our kind of problem," Dean added.

Eliot looked at the hunter, a reluctant respect forming. "So what you're saying is..."

"We might need to work together again," Dean finished, extending his hand. "God help me, but your punch-first-ask-questions-later approach actually worked pretty well with our holy water."

Eliot shook the offered hand, his grip firm. "And I guess the Latin wasn't completely useless."

"High praise," Dean smirked.

"I'll start planning our approach," Nate said, already moving to the whiteboard. "Sophie, we'll need covers for multiple cities. Hardison, I want everything you can find on these fight promoters, investors, property holdings."

As the two teams continued sharing information, planning their next move against the supernatural fighting rings, Eliot couldn't help but wonder what other impossible things might exist in the world. Demons were real—what else might be lurking in the shadows?

One thing was certain: whatever came next, he'd face it the way he always did—head-on, fists ready. And if Dean Winchester insisted on bringing salt and holy water to the fight, well, Eliot supposed there were worse backup plans.

After all, when it came to taking down the bad guys—supernatural or otherwise—results were what mattered. And between his fists and Dean's arsenal, results were something they could definitely deliver.

[campfire-chronicles]

Warmanjuary – Day 7: German Breakfast

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing / Character(s): Matthew Casey, Firehouse 51 ensemble

Reader: no reader insert

Rating: General

Tone: Slice of Life / Humor

➤ Part of the Warmanjuary January fic action

➤ Theme: Stoking the fire (warming up January)

➤ Full masterlist

Warnings: none

This wasn’t like you. You had messed up twice in one day. Usually, you knew what you were doing, not today. Between the move to the US and the adjustment to a new job, you had a lot to juggle. It didn’t help either that you were dealing with a different crew every few weeks. You had been assigned to Firehouse 51 for a week now. So, losing your focus on your everyday work shouldn’t have happened, and yet it did.

Last shift you cleaned the turnout coats, which had gone all right. But somehow you got the brilliant idea to remove all nametags and wash them separately. When you went to put them back on, you got them mixed up. Funny enough, you had only taken off the big nametags on the back of the coats-not the small ones on the front. Which made your mix-up hard for others to miss. Hermann had been the first to notice. Thankfully, all Lieutenant Casey had said was:” Normally, old-timers prank the newcomer, not the other way around.” The crew had taken what they believed to be an intentional hoax in stride. Small mercies...didn’t last long.

This morning, Cruz had come in with a burrito for breakfast. You’d thought that it had to be a joke. “That’s your breakfast?” you called him out.

“Yeah, of course that’s my breakfast, best breakfast burrito in town!” he held up his “breakfast” sounding serious.

“Are you kidding?” you tried again.

“Why would I?”

“Because nobody I know eats burritos for breakfast. Admit it, this is a joke.”

Clearly, you had managed to offend Cruz: “Well, whoever you know is apparently not from Chicago. Here, a third of the city will happily eat burritos for breakfast.” He took a breath. “Where are you from, that you never heard of breakfast burritos?”

“Frankfurt, Germany.”

Cruz blinked: “And what do they eat for breakfast there?”

“I’ll show you. How about I bring some German breakfast items next shift?”

And before you knew it, you had agreed to make a German breakfast for the entire station.

The morning after your careless agreement, you compiled your shopping list: bread, cold cuts, cheese, cucumbers, tomatoes, Nutella, a variety of marmalade, small buns, pretzels, salmon cuts, eggs, bacon, orange juice and coffee German style. You shook your head, “Was hast du dir da nur eingehandelt?” – “What had you gotten yourself into?” Well, it was done now. So, back to logistics.

As for the coffee, you’d simply brew it yourself. After six months in the U.S., you’d found the roast and measure of coffee grounds that got you the strength you needed. Typical German bread, small buns, pretzels and cold cuts would be harder to find though.

Thankfully Chicago had quite a German population. It made hunting down breakfast items doable. A quick yelp-search pointed you towards the German bakery named “Rudy’s” not too far from the firehouse and the German butcher’s shop “Thuringer Meats” in Arlington. You had picked up Fleischwurst, Schwarzwälder Schinken and Bierwurst yesterday at the butcher’s shop along with the “easy stuff” from a local grocery store.

All that was left this morning before the shift was collecting your online order at “Rudy’s”. And you decided since you were messing things up without meaning to, you might as well mess with everybody for fun today.

As you entered, the smell of baked goods surrounded you.

You addressed the bakery staff: “Guten Morgen. Ich möchte die Bestellung für Pfüzenreiter abholen.”

The young man behind the counter blinked, but didn’t hesitate: “Guten Morgen. Sorry, could you repeat that in English, please?”

“Sure, I would like to pick up the order for Pfüzenreiter.”

“Pfutzenreiter? I’ll go check.”

“Hu?” He had handled this better than you’d expected. He returned with a basket, filled with three loaves of bread, small German buns and pretzels.

You paid, “Vielen Dank. Einen schönen Tag noch!”

“Bitte schön. Tschüs!” and you were on your way.

At the firehouse you were the first one in, as planned. This way you could prepare the scrambled eggs with bacon and the salmon platter and hide them away with the German small buns. Of course, you also boiled a couple eggs, so no one would generally miss eggs. Then you set the table and went to change.

After roll call and checks, you all went to eat. As soon as everybody was seated with their plates, Lieutenant Severide spoke up: “I don’t know what this is supposed to be, but is sure as hell is no breakfast.”

Shay elbowed him: “Don’t be mean.”

You smiled, “These two were something else.”

Mouch, however, agreed with the Lieutenant: “He’s not wrong. Didn’t think anyone would have cold cuts for breakfast.”

That wasn’t something you could ignore: “Well, clearly you don’t know any Germans. Because we do.”

Now, Cruz added: “I’d take a burrito over this every day of the week.”

“Just bring one for me too.” Dawson mumbled into her food.

At this rate, you might have to try a burrito yourself; they seemed really popular. You looked over to Lieutenant Casey.

He caught you looking at him and just stated: “Well, it's food.”

“Hm, funny thing, though, I smell bacon and eggs.” Hermann grinned in your direction. “So, can we please have those too?”

You had to laugh. Of course he’d figure it out. So, you went and got your hidden treasures.

“Now, you have a complete “Sonntag’s Frühstück!”

“A what now?” Casey smirked.

“A real German Sunday breakfast! You’d better believe scrambled eggs, salmon and buns are reserved for Sundays and special occasions in Germany.” you snorted.

Your colleagues shook their heads and smiled. As expected, they were quick to add the Sunday items to their plates.

Meanwhile you assembled a plate for the Chief. Walking down to his office, you knocked on the open door.

“Hey, come in.”

“Good morning, Sir. I brought you a plate for breakfast.”, you carefully handed it over.

“What’s the occasion?”

 “Ähm, I messed a little the last two shifts. So, I made it up to the crew with a Sunday breakfast German style.”, you answered honestly.

Chief Boden nodded, “Good idea.”

With a calm “Guten Appetit!” you left him to his meal and went to clean up the kitchen.

On your way, Casey stopped you. “So, you couldn’t resist winding us up again, hm?” he snorted with a smirk. Placing a hand on your shoulder he added: “Well, done.” Then he went to his office.

Author’s Note:

Guten Morgen – Good morning

Vielen Dank – Thank you

Einen schönen Tag noch! – Have a nice day

Bitte schön – You’re welcome

Tschüs! – Bye

Guten Appetit! – Enjoy your meal

Fleischwurst – Similar to bologna, but milder and more meat-forward

Schwarzwälder Schinken – A traditional German dry-cured ham, cold-smoked and sliced very thin

Bierwurst – A mild German cooked sausage, often seasoned with garlic

Credits:

Line-dividers by: @cursed-carmine

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