#also terrified i have written this exact fic before

[eternalgoldfish]

flowers / from a rotten boy.

Harringrove | Complete | M | 1.6k

"These are flowers," Steve says, staring at Billy's extended bouquet. Billy holds them away from his body like they personally offend him, like he doesn't know why the fuck he's holding them, and honestly--

"What else would they fucking be?" Billy says.

Steve might be the stupidest person alive, because he nearly says flowers again before his brain catches up with his mouth. It’s cold on his front porch. The sky above threatens snow. He asks, "Where did you get them?" 

Who gave them to you? Who are they for?

"The store, Harrington, where people buy flowers." He shoves them in Steve's direction, stiff-armed. "Are you going to take them or what?"

Read on AO3

[shirefantasies]

hii i’ve read all your hobbit fics and i love them. i was wondering if you can do one with the company who underestimated the readers fighting abilities and when a pack of orcs attack they seem to be doing better than everyone else. like they got this bloodthirsty look on their face and it terrifies them while also in their heads like “oh yeah that’s the one i wanna marry” feel free to ignore this keep up the good work🫶🫶

I love this! I can so see like, all the dwarves having this exact moment 😆 Warnings: some blood/violence mentions

Fiery, Fierce, Fabulous!

Balin

He had been working with you a bit, lightly sparring with his sword and an old spare, but it was all just playful. Swords, it seemed, weren’t for you, but all that changed in Balin’s mind was furthering his desire to protect you. The orcs were upon you seemingly in an instant, not giving your company a single break. Exasperated, Balin made to run forward, stopping in his tracks when he saw you. In a heartbeat you had pulled out a bow and arrow, launching quite the volley into the growing crowd of enemies and picking off a surprising number of the ghastly running figures. It was like you knew exactly where to shoot past the armor despite them being outfitted differently. Balin had always looked upon you with affection, a special care he’d not given many before, but as he watched you bloom into a capable warrior of your own right, he knew it was love.

Dwalin

You were usually off helping Bombur cook, so he supposed he’d written you off as a fighter. Not that knowing your way around a good meal was no merit. In fact, you’d been explaining how you made your cheese sauce so good-something you called a ‘roux’- when the howling started. Wargs, all mounted with riders coming in an ambush, a flurry of scimitars and axes raised. Jolting up from the rock you sat on, you unsheathed a sword from who knows where, seeming to briefly perceive the raise of Dwalin’s eyebrows before you ran off. One of the first into the fray along with Bifur, you swung, taking the eye out of one warg and catching the leg of the rider, who slipped enough for you to run him through. Barely pausing, you took another hack at the warg before moving onto another loose orc, unceremoniously lopping his head off. He always knew he wanted someone at home who could have dinner waiting, but up until that moment Dwalin assumed he’d marry someone he could protect. The grin that spread across his face, the pound of his heart, the irresistible focus across your face, though? They all told him you were his One.

Thorin

His company is small, but they are fighters. At least all the ones he can vouch for. Having never seen you in a fight was one reservation he had to your joining, though your presence is soothing above all else. The sense, the trust you have for him, your willingness to do what is right in the dwarves' eyes. Not to mention the way you constantly remind Thorin to focus on the good, resistant to it all as he may have once been. When the orcs come, he sees apprehension glint in your eyes before it quickly evolves to focus. You reach for some article hanging at your back, something Thorin had assumed to be a frying pan handle. Erroneously. Very. You've pulled out a spear, parrying attack after attack and even catching the brunt of a blow meant for Dori. Your weapon looks quite regal in your hand, beauty to be found even in a bloodbath. Perhaps especially so. You were no charge to them, you were one of them. Somebody the others looked up to, respected. Somebody Thorin himself could depend on. Never did he think the day would come, and yet in that fight the king-to-be knew he looked upon his One.

Oin

The company had taken you on as a healer, knowing your skills would be beyond valuable; thus, you worked and trained beneath Oin. Even handling scrapes, your touch is so gentle it warms his heart, filling it with pride…and maybe a little something else. That same heart drops when an orc grabs you by the arm, yanking you and lifting you up like little more than a doll. His hands tighten upon his staff. Unnecessarily, it seems, for your other arm swings and sets the orc cursing in its dark speech and dropping you. Promptly stabbing him with the large knife you still held, you take out both of his neighbors for good luck. Cheering in encouragement, Oin thinks to himself that it’s about time he had a talk with you.

Gloin

You’re quick with your words, he’ll give you that. Always with some joke or barb to shoot back at the others when they tease you. Gloin swears you could make up a story for anything, and sometimes he can’t help but imagine hearing your voice reciting some little tale under the stars, to him and him alone. Naturally, when Azog sends his ilk after you, Gloin’s first instinct is to stand in front of you, an arm outstretched in cover. Cover you promptly ignore, rushing forth, unstrapping a pair of axes from your back, and unleashing hell upon the great ugly things. What better story to tell of how he knew he found his One?

Bifur

Not everyone took the time to try to listen. Most people waved a dismissive hand at signs, flailed and pantomimed in some cruel mockery or otherwise concession. Not you. You pulled him into nearly every conversation, made little jokes just for him. Made the world feel like it was just the two of you sometimes. Was it ridiculous? Maybe. Then again, a little showing off couldn't hurt, just in case. Wait, since when did you have an axe? And since when were you so swift with it as to chop the arm off an orc like that? And since when did you start looking so good splattered with blood? Bifur must've been staring, for suddenly there you were giving a merry laugh, asking if he liked those moves, wholly his One. Oh, that was it- he was a goner for sure.

Bofur

From the moment the company had entered Bag End, you’d been right there up front singing and dancing along with the dwarves. Privately Bofur thought of you as the company’s songbird the way you performed and found a song for any moment. Protecting your pretty pipes is all he’s thinking about, in fact, when goblins swarm you down in their town. Hoisting his mattock, he’s ready to do what he must…. Only for you to take them out yourself, swinging your own blades with a rhythm all your own. You’re like a tornado the way you tear them up! Scary? Maybe a little. But beautiful? Definitely a lot. Despite the goblin-hole you’ve landed yourselves in, Bofur chuckles and smiles to himself. What can he say? He loves you.

Bombur

More than once does it occur to Bombur how badly he wants to make you smile, see you relaxed and comfortable every minute of the day. His heart positively thumps out of his chest at the way you lay your hand over his, thanking him for the meal he made or the extra blanket he gave you. Your safety is all he thinks about running headlong into battle, weapons ablaze. You won't be afraid if... thwack! Bombur's thoughts are utterly interrupted by an orc tumbling headlong, another soon joining them with a strike by your twin staffs. Twirling them about your head, you part the crowding battle with a look of impressive calm. The first words you speak in that battle are to ask him if he's alright, followed by a compliment to his own kill count. Clashing with orcs as he may have been, Bombur couldn't help smiling merrily as he got to watch you, further cementing your status as his One in his mind.

Dori

The two of you bonded over Bilbo’s china, each of you having favorite plates and cups amidst all the dishes you used, washed, admired. He thought of you as someone who enjoyed the delicate crafts in life, appreciated the little flowers and traces of gilding on the one that was Bilbo’s mother’s. Just like him! Pessimistic as he could be, he didn’t much fancy the sight of you in battle- after all, you had had no cause to be forced into such a situation, right? Wrong, it seemed! Upon the first ambush you were asking him for a weapon, rolling your eyes when he gaped and grabbing up his flail, shattering a shield immediately and smirking when you caught his eye again. Heart leaping, Dori wonders for the first time in his life if maybe he isn’t the only one meant to care for his brothers, suddenly seeing someone else more than belonging in his family.

Nori

You were such a sweet little thing, so shy and kind it took everything in Nori not to sweep you off your feet at every little gesture. Instead, he opted for teasing you, slinging his arm around your shoulders to watch you get flustered or taking things to get a rise out of you. Or at least a cute look of confusion. Now, he thinks, is my big chance when you’re all being chased, assailants quickly escaping archery range and getting ever closer to his blades. You rush forward at his side, though, offering a sunny smile that contrasts heavily with the massive hammer in your hand. Nori slits a throat, you wallop the dickens out of several more orcs. When it’s all said and done he can’t help but tell you what a great team you make, taking that opportunity to finally sweep you off your feet.

Ori

All your blades were ornamental, carven with flowers into their wood handles and swirls patterning the metal. One had beasts upon the cross-guard and pommel. Ori knew this because you’d shown him, pride glittering in your eyes at the beautiful things. You loved his art and collected your own, pressing flowers and gushing over Bilbo’s trinkets. It was what inspired him to make you little gifts in the first place, in fact. Panic shoots through Ori’s chest when orcs barrel your way. Something flies through the air and he gasps as he realizes it’s your little flower knife sailing straight into the throat of your enemy. You take up the beastly dagger next, slicing another throat and finishing off the one Ori startles with his slingshot. His heart leaps when you congratulate him, thanking him for helping save your life as he reminds you you did the same. He can’t help staring as you walk away, completely smitten.

Fili

Maybe he shouldn’t play favorites, especially among friends and family, but you are by far his favorite in the whole mess of travelers the dwarven prince has fallen in with. Fili is addicted to the sound of your giggles at all his jokes, the way your lips circle in surprise when he shows you all the weapons he boasts. Perhaps that’s why he assumes you haven’t any, but you know what they say about that. He should’ve known better with the way he keeps most of his concealed. A pair of daggers immediately swung about still come as a more than pleasant surprise, pride glowing in the smile Fili flashes you. You are beyond special, he sees it now: you’re the one for him.

Kili

You get so bashful every time he sends a wink your way, your smile an absolute balm for his soul no matter what the day brings. He loves the way you get his attention only to hand him a flower you plucked from the roadside with a little for you. Kili himself practically can only imagine the surprise he feels when he sees you cross your blades and decapitate two adversaries in a row like they’re nothing, a look he can only describe as fiery passion across your face. Practically feeling as though he’s in a dream, Kili knows through the haze it’s more than flirtation, he’s head over heels. This must be that ‘One’ feeling Gloin and Bombur always talk about.

Bilbo

Seems like you're always by his side. Offering him a hot drink, chatting on watch, sharing blankets. It's like a little piece of home followed him off on this absurd journey, and thank the stars. He's struggling to adjust to the rowdy bunch you two have fallen in with, but you? A gentler soul indeed. Bilbo's heart sinks at the sight of orcs at your heels, wishing never to have need of the blade he was given. You tell him none of them will get near him, causing him to peer up at you with wide, confused eyes before you whip out a crossbow and start shooting. Your marks go tumbling off their wargs, blood bursting from across their chests as the mob thins. Gaping, Bilbo swallows and shakily thanks you, his gaze darting to and from your eyes shyly. You're something new, something quite between home and an adventure, he dares say.

[fookingmuffins]

Say something babe pt2

James Potter x reader

Angst

Warnings: cheating, yelling, James being a dick and few curse words I think? (Also y/n being a big dummy for a sec but it happens)

A/n: here's part two! I hope you guys enjoy it this one is longer than the last since some of it was technically part of part one but I moved it. This part made me really hate James so I have some regrets but oh well I promise to write fluffier fics eventually. There's gonna be part 3 of James groveling but for now it's just this I'm sorry. :(

It was your last day home after spring break, you had spent your week in your bed in the dark having restless sleep to avoid the reality of your situation, but it seemed even your Dreams were haunted, and you knew your mum was worried. You had written to Penny and your other friends, who had been worried about your sudden departure without saying goodbye. Penny had thankfully not told anyone anything about what you two heard that last night. James had surprisingly also sent you a few letters,5 to be exact, but you couldn't get yourself to open them, any time you tried nausea overtook your body at the thought of the words he said about you.

You were dreading the thought of returning and facing everything. You thought about continuing everything as if you had never heard that conversation and try to enjoy however long you had with James, you had even thought of excuses as to why you left and didn't reply to his letters, but you knew you deserved better. You needed to confront James, and maybe he would apologize and reassure you it was all some big misunderstanding, you probably would believe him if he did.

.......♡☆♡........

As soon as you stepped on the train platform, you heard a set of heavy steps approaching you, but before you could turn around, a big set of arms enveloped you. "Can't... breathe..." you gasped out and patted Finn's back, and he immediately let you go to see Penny, Rowan, and Wren were there too, each giving you a gentler hug than Finn.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just so worried, and I missed you so much, it's been ages!"

"Sure has felt like it but come on, let's find a cabin before the good ones are taken." You placed your hand on Finn's arm and started guiding your friend group to the train. You knew that you were probably going to get interrogated by everyone, but you could at least push it back a few minutes.

Once your group found a cabin you sat down by the window and Wren immediately shut the door, and you knew even if you tried there was no stopping this. "Okay girly you better start talking about whatever it's going on because that letter saying something came up at home, and you had to go earlier is bullshit cause something is always going on at your house and that is exactly why you hate being there. So now talk and tell me who I need to jinx with Finny here for doing something to you."

You looked at Penny for some help, but she just gave you a soft smile, encouraging you to tell your friends the truth. But you were terrified of them hating James, in case it was just a misunderstanding.

"James and I just had a bit of an argument, no big deal, I promise we are fine. I'm fine." Penny rolled her eyes at your words, but thankfully no one saw her, and she did help you change the topic. But you knew none of your friends believed you, even Finn who was sometimes a bit clueless could tell you lied and for the rest of the train ride they gave you worried looks.

.......♡☆♡........

After the long train ride, you went to freshen up in your dorm (and mentally prepare yourself to face James) assuring your friends you would meet them at the great hall. But just when you made a turn, you felt someone pull you into an empty classroom. Just when you were about to scream you felt a pair of lips you knew all too well pressed onto yours and for a moment you forgot about all the pain that you had felt over the past week.

When James pulled back and searched your face his eyes brought back the words you had heard, the words that came out of the lips you had just kissed, and immediately all the pain and nausea returned.

"I was so worried about you baby, you left without even saying goodbye, and we were supposed to go to that party together, and then you wouldn't reply to any of my letters and your friends didn't know anything either." You usually thought his ranting was adorable, especially when he looked like he did right now with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes looking at you with what you used to think was sincerity, but now that stupid look in his eyes just felt like a dagger onto your heart twisting with each word that left his lips.

You pushed his hands on your cheeks away and took a step away which made him frown, but before he could say anything you blurted "I heard your conversation with Castor in the Gryffindor common room!" Which made him frown more until a look of realization crossed his face and his eyes widened.

"W-what conversation...? H-how did you even get into the Gryffindor common room?" He tried to deflect, which made your heart sink and tears well up in your eyes.

"The one where you mentioned I was so annoying and clingy and offered me to Castor, so you could have some alone time with Lily!" He was refusing to look you in the eyes anymore, which was making all that sadness you once felt turn into bitter anger.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about you are overreacting right now Castor and I don't really talk plus y-you were complaining about him that one-"

"James!"

"Okay! Fine! I did tell Castor all that, but you know what? You're just proving that you ARE clingy. I mean, why do you have to listen to MY private conversations, huh? And again, what were you doing in the Gryffindor common room? And you're also proving how dramatic and psychotic you are by making this big show about something I said to my friend privately!" By this point, you couldn't hold back your tears as James spit the words that had kept you restless the past week with so much venom, and his once gentle eyes turned into those of a crazed man.

"And what about Lily!?" You managed to scream back, but it came out so broken that even James' eyes momentarily softened, or maybe it was just because you mentioned the girl he actually loved.

"What about her?" He stepped closer, eyes hardening again, glaring at you in a way that killed you. "Are you seriously jealous of her? Merlin y/n! Am I not allowed to have friends? I never tell you anything when you hang out with Rowan and Finn."

"I've never been jealous because I trusted YOU! B-but I heard-"

"Heard something completely out of context! Look babe, I love you okay! That night at the party I just wanted to play some drinking games with Lily cause I know you don't like drinking! I would never cheat on you, okay? I know how you feel about it because of your dad and I wouldn't do it to you, promise" You wanted to scream deep down you knew this was all lies, but you wanted to believe him so badly. Just when you had made up your mind, you felt James wrap his arms around you, and you couldn't help but cry harder. You just felt so small and broken and as if his arms were the only thing holding you together.

"I'm so sorry for overreacting. I-I don't know what happened, I-I…" James took my face into his hands again and gently kissed my lips.

.......♡☆♡........

After you and James cleared things up, things had been a little tense between you and Penny, who berated you for an hour and then ignored you until the next day cause she couldn't stay mad at you. And even though with James things were seemingly back to normal you still felt yourself walking on eggshells around him and stopped missing classes and club meetings, like you usually did in favor of meeting him, so he wouldn't feel like you were clingy. Despite all of it, you still felt something was missing, like the life had been drained out of you. But that only made you feel worse, since you had everything you could possibly want, and suddenly you weren't satisfied. Now when James was by your side you often felt numb even when you would hang out with the other marauders who usually made you laugh you felt like you were laughing out of a pure reaction but not feeling any joy.

It had been 3 weeks since your argument, and you were running late to Madam Puddifoot's tea shop, where you had made a last-minute arrangement with your friend group to celebrate your friend Luna's birthday. You usually didn't come to Hogsmeade in the middle of the week, too busy with the many activities you were part of plus assignments as it was your last year at Hogwarts. But you and Luna had been friends since second year when she had gotten sick around the same time you fell off your broom and both of you spent your days at the infirmary chatting away. You helped her usually shy, and reserved self become more open and make more friends.

When you finally arrived at the tea shop, you spotted a curly mop of hair that you recognized as James leaning in to kiss Lily. The chatter you were having among your friends completely stopped, and you felt your world come crashing down, there was no denying anymore. James Potter was the biggest cheater ever, and you were the biggest fool for trusting him. You contemplated going to confront him right then and there, but you didn't want to ruin Luna's party, so you made your way back to Hogwarts and would confront him when he got back to his dorm. All throughout your walk back, you kept cursing him and yourself for being so naive.

.......♡☆♡........

By the time James made it back to his dorm it was 7:45 you had long made yourself comfortable after kicking out the other marauders.

"Baby! What are you doing here? I told you it was best to not come after the whole misunderstanding from last time" Unsurprisingly, James was shocked to see you there, but he quickly disguised it and tried to lean in to kiss you, but you just turned your face, so he just kissed your cheek which made him frown. "Is everything okay?"

"I don't know, James, you tell me. How was your little date with Lily?" To that his eyes widened and if you weren't seething right now you probably would have found it comical.

"Merlin y/n this again?! I've told you there's nothing going on between me and Lily! You're so-"

"I saw the two of you kiss at Madam Puddifoot's." You said matter of fact, interrupting whatever argument he was gonna use to call you delusional.

"I swear it wasn't what it looked like! She's the one who kissed me! She's been obsessing over me ever since we got together. She's an insane babe." That was true, unfortunately, James had never told you about Lily wanting him back after seeing him with you, and it's not like he tried to stop her, in fact, James had very much encouraged her. He loved the thrill of being with her behind your back, you had been so close to finding out about them so many times. And after the last time he had been so cocky about being able to convince you he was loyal, bragging to everyone in Gryffindor. But you didn't know any of that.

"Oh really, just like I'm so obsessed with you that I don't let you breathe? Look I don't care anymore I'm done playing the fool. If I'm even here, it's just for formalities because we are done, Potter." You said, as you got up from his bed, and made your way to the door.

"Are you seriously breaking up with me right now?" You didn't bother answering as you opened the door and stepped out. Making a vow to never anyone hurt you like that again and refusing to ever look back.

Part 3

[mmavverickk]

I “love” the betrayal fics where the entire camp suddenly believes that this new guy has actually accomplished all of Percy’s achievements and Percy lied to all of them, like camp didn’t literally witness half of those accomplishments and like Percy actually outright says “I did X.” Percy says almost nothing about what he does, Camp hears about most of his achievements from others

oh, we've all seen those fics. new guy shows up, he's actually Percy's half-brother. Annabeth suddenly only has eyes for him, everyone suddenly hates Percy because new guy does too, Poseidon may or may not disown Percy, and then Percy runs away and joins Chaos.

it's been copied and pasted thousands of times in hundreds of ways.

not a single one of those fics has Percy's departure from Camp happen realistically. it's not even impossible to grow resentment between Percy and the campers, which is what these writers seem to want. but the way they go about it? a cookie cutter asshole pied piper OC who steals the spotlight and turns Camp into a hostile mob of angry demigods? Unrealistic. 0/10 trope, literally 50% of why i will not read fanfictions with OCs.

have some realistic ways of turning Camp against Percy or vice versa:

- Percy could be captured. The area he was taken from is drenched in blood. no one could survive that, Percy's gotta be dead, so Camp doesn't look for him. after [x amount of time] of captivity and probably torture, Percy gives up hoping for a rescue. he discovers darker uses for his powers, frees himself, and doesn't go back to camp, because they abandoned him. opens the road for angst and emotion and tearful reunions etc.

- Camp is attacked. maybe it was a lazy beach day. no one is ready, only a few campers have their weapons. they're outnumbered and maybe surrounded and definitely out of options. Percy won't let anyone die. two ways to go about this one:

A) percy destroys the attackers single-handedly, using every tool in his arsenal, every fucked up thing he can think of to make sure his people survive. he controls poison and blood and drowns monsters and, i don't know, freezes them into ice cubes or boils their skin or stops their hearts. Camp is terrified of him now. he leaves. or B) the armed campers fight back, but percy isn't fighting. he's busy keeping the injured from dying. how? he's controlling their blood. he won't let it deviate from its normal path. Camp is terrified of him now. he leaves.

- [x god] sends Percy on a quest. but, surprise! it's not a quest! it's a trick, to lead Percy to his death! Percy survives, but can't go back or he'll be revealing he's still alive before he figures out why [x god] tried to have him killed and if there's anyone else behind it. fun conspiracy vibes.

- percy adopts a new pet, except this time it's a drakon. "Percy," Chiron says very patiently and not-at-all exasperated, "you can't keep a drakon as a pet. it will eat your friends and we don't have the space." Percy flips authority the bird and strikes out with his new pet to find somewhere they can settle. kinda cracky but written right it could be funny.

- Percy pisses Zeus off. not surprising. Zeus wants to kill Percy. not surprising. for his own good, Chiron sends Percy on a roadtrip/changes his name and sends him to mexico along with multiple witness protection agents/quest to keep Percy out of sight for a while to allow the king of olympus time to cool down, because we like when percy is alive and also the war poseidon would wage at his death would kill us all.

are all of them 100% realistic? no, but neither is Percy leaving Camp. Hera had to literally kidnap him and erase his memory to keep him away. the point is that they're different and plausible, and not the same exact trope repeated over and over again until i can tell you the plot of hundreds of betrayal works in one sentence.

[messrmoonyy]

Can you do a 5 + 1 style fic for Tess? Mix in fluff and smut and angst. Maybe 5 times she says she loves you? +1 Or 5 times she kisses you? Something like that. Thanks for taking the time I love your stuff ❤️

5 times Tess kissed you and 1 time she couldn’t

Tess Servopoulos x Fem!reader

A/N- I haven’t written a 5+1 in forever so this was fun! Honestly she’s a soft little baby for the majority of this, mostly cause I wanted to make the 1 hurt more 😃 she’s sweet and soft. She’s baby. The dialogue from the end part is not directly taken from the show cause I don’t like taking all the exact dialogue I want to make it my own. So there’s pieces but not completely exact. Some are longer than others. Only proofread once.

Warnings- 18+ because there’s a smidge of smut. Fluff, drunkness / drinking, smut: oral ( r receiving ) , mentions of injury/violence,

Word count- 6.9k

Masterlist

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

ONE

It had been a really bad day.

A really bad day. One of those where every single awful thing that had ever happened to you, crept out from the dark corner of your brain that you locked them away in. Thankfully you’d had no work assignments and had spent the day hiding away in your apartment. You were supposed to have met Tess after her own assignment, plans to get rid of some of your stock on her break in between shifts. But you’d stayed home. 

5 years had passed since outbreak day and the amount of shit you had seen in that time… it crept up on you from time to time. She’d understand. 

She’d probably be a little bit pissed at you when you saw her next, if you were honest, but at that moment you didn’t really give a fuck. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and ignore the memories bouncing around your brain. 

You’d had a decent amount of self restraint all day, you hadn’t touched either of the bottles of whiskey under your bed. Or any of the pills. It would’ve been the easy option, knock yourself out with a couple of oxy or see how much whiskey you could drink before it made you pass out. But for the most part you’d restrained yourself, knowing it would only take the pain away temporarily. 

You saw it first hand in Joel. The way he dosed himself up on whatever pills he could get his hands on, only to be just as traumatised the next morning. 

Though by 4:30 your self restraint was gone. You’d finally cracked open a bottle and poured yourself a glass, ready to spend your night drinking yourself into a stupor. Maybe a mixture of pride for holding out so long, but also too terrified to go to sleep. Scared of what fucked up dreams your mind might conjure up. 

Until you heard a knock at the door. 

You sighed in frustration and got up from your spot at the kitchen table and grabbed your keys, pulling open the door ready to tell whoever it was to piss off. But your frustration dissipated when you saw who was standing there. 

Tess had her hands in her pockets, brows furrowing slightly as she looked over you. You didn’t even say anything, just left the door open and dropped your keys back on the side table by the door, leaning heavily against it. 

“ oh someones started early “ she said with a raised eyebrow as she sauntered into your apartment and grabbed the bottle from the table, eyeing the glass before shrugging and drinking straight from the bottle “ how much catching up do I need to do? “

“ I only had one glass “

“ oh that’s easy “ you watched her bring the bottle to her lips again, wincing slightly as the amber liquid burned on its way down. You slid down the wall where you stood, too tired to even make the short distance back to your chair at the table “ you know there’s a perfectly good couch right? “ you waved a hand in dismissal in her direction and leant your head back against the wall behind you. 

You hadn’t even done anything all day. But your muscles felt heavy, your body exhausted. There might as well have been lead in your veins, the weight of your past heavily anchoring you to the floor. 

Your eyes dragged up and down her as she stood by the table, shrugging off her jacket and tossing it over the back of a chair. She took another swig from the bottle and you sighed. 

“ you gonna share that or what? “ she scoffed and made her way over, groaning slightly as she sat down on the floor next to you. 

“ I’m too old for sitting on the fuckin floor “ You accepted the bottle, taking a swig before holding the neck loosely between your fingers. 

“ you’re barely in your fuckin 30s “ 

“ the ever looming fear of being turned into a mushrooms puppet will really age a person “ you rolled your eyes and took another drink. You hoped the alcohol would push the heaviness away, but Tess was enough of a distraction even if it wouldn’t. 

“ gonna tell me where you were today? “ you gestured to your surroundings and she sighed, taking the bottle from you which you took right back “ what’s going on? “ 

“ one of them days “ one thing you loved about Tess? She didn’t pry. She didn’t push. She took what you gave her and didn’t ask for more. In the same way you always did for her. In the days where it was you at the door of her apartment. When she couldn’t bare to leave the safety of those four walls and face the day. You didn’t push. 

“ I have something that’ll cheer you up” she took the bottle from you as she said it, clearly trying to catch up with the amount you were downing. The warm, fuzzy feeling alcohol gave you was settling over your head “ I was on sewer maintenance “ she drank some more “ this one fuckin officer… he was being such an ass “

“ they’re all asses “ you mumbled, sighing and closing your eyes as you let the whisky push away the heaviness and lull you into that relaxed, giggly, care free state it always did before you pushed into the next stage of drunkness. Where you couldn’t walk straight and forgot what you’d been doing when you woke up the next morning. 

That first stage was nice. Bubble headed and warm, the giggles and wooziness that came with being tipsy. 

“ they are. But this one? Fuckin dick “ 

“ how is this supposed to be funny Tess? “ 

“ be fuckin patient I’m getting there “ you rolled your eyes, taking the bottle back “ so he’s being an ass. And this guy was done with his shit- literally “ a string of giggles bubbled past your lips at that “ and so the ass starts shouting, telling him to get back to work. And as he’s yelling, he’s walking. Doesn’t look where he’s going “

“ oh no “ the giggles grew as you anticipated where the story was heading, shifting closer to her and turning in her direction “ god please tell me what I think you’re gonna tell me “ 

“ face first. Straight in the fuckin water. Half the QZs shit on his face “ you both burst into laughter, the imagine of a FEDRA asshole face first in a pile of shit water truly the highlight of your day “ I told you it would make you laugh “ she said through her own laughter, a sound you didn’t get to hear very often. 

You lay your head on her shoulder and sighed, as your giggles began dying down. Tess brought a hand up and cupped your cheek lightly leaning her face against your head. 

“ I like when you laugh “ she said, her voice soft “ better than seeing you grumpy “ 

“ yeah? “

“ yeah. I do. Its cute “ you lifted your head, your chin on her shoulder and wiggling your eyebrows at her

“ oh you think I’m cute? “ you both erupted into giggles again, your faces close to each other and laughing like a pair of kids who just got caught trying to steal cookies from the jar “ youuuu think I’m cuteee “ you said in a silly sing song voice and poked at her arm. 

“ you’re wasted “ 

“ hmm maybe but so are you “ she shrugged and pushed your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear 

“ maybe “ your eyes flickered to where the backs of her fingers were brushing against your cheek now, her touch gentle and soft. 

“ I think you’re cute too for what it’s worth “ you said quietly, the alcohol swimming though your veins speaking words you’d been holding onto for months. 

“ you do? “ 

“ I do “ you said it a little too quickly but you didn’t care. Not when she was that close to you, her fingers on your face and practically sat in each others laps “ I have for a while “

“ I know “ you scoffed at that, trailing you hand up her arm and brushing across her jaw lightly 

“ course you fuckin do “ 

“ you’re not subtle “ 

“ and you wait until now to tell me that? That’s fucked” you said, laughing again. And it made a grin spread across her own face. 

“ I can stop. I can leave and pretend I didn’t say it. Give me the word and I’ll go right now “ your hands twisted into the collar of her shirt and you shook your head. 

“ is this just cause you’re drunk? “ you whispered, trying to clear away the fog in some attempt to figure out if this was real or not. 

“ no “ she shook her head, nudging her nose against yours “ no. No it’s not “ all your sadness from earlier in the day was something of the past, it didn’t matter anymore. Not in that moment “ tell me to stop “ her voice was barely a whisper, so close her lips were brushing yours as she spoke. 

“ m’not gonna do that “

“ good “ it was just a gentle kiss at first. Soft. Lingering. You parted for a few seconds, then she was grabbing at your face with both hands, forcefully pulling you back in a way that took the air from your lungs. 

She tasted like the whiskey you’d both been drinking and… something else. Something you’d been yearning for for too long. It wasn’t exactly how you’d expected your first kiss with her to be. You hadn’t exactly imagined some movie, fairytale romance thing. But you also hadn’t imagined the current situation either. 

It was desperate. All tongues and teeth, her hands tugging at the hair in the nape of your neck, yours twisting into the material of her shirt. The kind of kiss that would leave your lips swollen and red when she was done with you. 

Part of your mind that wasn’t all that drunk yet, questioned if this would even be happening if you were both sober. But the louder part was screaming in excitement, telling the other to shut up. That that was something to worry about tomorrow. Not now. Not when she was kissing you like her life depended on it. 

You had to pull apart at some point, gasping for air as you finally parted. You were both quiet for a few moments, just your heavy breaths the sounds between you. She moved away first, reaching for the bottle again and taking a big gulp. 

TWO

Your back arched off the mattress, fingers lacing into her hair as Tess smiled against your cunt, not stopping for a single second in her ministration’s. She was eating like a woman starved, her long slender fingers reaching places inside of you that you never really knew existed. 

“ Jesus fuckin Christ Tess “ you whined, hand patting around for hers. She slid the hand that had been pressing your hips down, up your waist before grabbing your hand. She threaded her fingers with yours, squeezing softly. 

“ I got you baby “ she said, her voice gentle in comparison to the way she curled her fingers inside of you in a steady rhythm “ you gonna come for me? Yeah? “ 

“ yes. Yes. Fuck “ you whined, high pitched sounds leaving your throat as her tongue pressed against your clit again “ just like that “ 

You came on her fingers moments later, a bone shattering grip on her hand as she worked you through it. Not wasting a single drop your slick cunt had to offer. She stopped when you squirmed away from her, the sensation too much. 

Her thumb rubbed circles into your hand and she pressed soft kisses across your thighs and your stomach as you came down, letting your breathing regain its normal pattern. 

“ Tess “ you said softly, and she got the hint, moving her way back up your body and letting your grabby hands pull her down to kiss you. The taste of you lingered on her lips but you didn’t care, hand pulling at her neck to keep her there. You hummed a soft moan into her mouth, making her smile against you. 

“ that good? “ she asked with a grin on her face, when she pulled back, pushing your hair away from your damp forehead.

“ it was alright I guess “ Tess scoffed and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face 

“ you little shit “ she said with a shake of her head and nudged you lightly, rolling onto her back next to you. You propped yourself on your elbow and traced your fingers in nonsense patterns across her skin “ you in a better mood now at least? “ 

“ wasn’t even in a bad mood “ you grumbled, tracing over the lines of her collarbones and down her sternum and back up again. Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep you’d make patterns in her freckles, or trace your fingers over her scars and ask her where each one came from. 

“ sure. You’ve been grumpy as fuck all morning “ you shrugged and she grabbed your hand that was trailing over her skin “ seemed a little happier a minute ago though ‘ oh Tess! Just like like that! ‘ “ you slapped her arm as she pulled a terrible impression of you, her voice high pitched and dramatic 

“ shut up! I don’t sound like that! “ she laughed, grabbing at your hands as you tried to push her off the bed. 

“ oh? You don’t? Huh? “ you clambered on top of her, grabbing at her hands and attempting to pin them down beside her head “ so that wasn’t you moaning my name less than five minutes ago? No? “ 

“ shut up holy shit “ she was still grinning as you managed to push her hands down in a way that was a little too easy for it not to have been intentional. 

“ oh well look at you “ 

“ you’re mean “ 

“ I am? “ you nodded and leant down, lips brushing against hers. 

“ so mean “ she smiled as you said it, tilting her head up to capture your lips again “ making fun of me. Such a bitch” she scoffed at that and you squealed as she pushed at you, so you were now the one with your wrists pinned against the mattress. 

“ I don’t like that tone baby “ you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face, gasping when she pressed her thigh between your legs. 

“ and what are you gonna do about it? “ 

“ oh. You’ll see “ 

THREE

The night was not going to plan. At all. You’d been fucked over. Some stupid fucker working for Robert who you were supposed to be trading with. They’d brought pills that were nothing but compacted powdered sugar, trying to screw you over. 

You, Tess and Joel had secured a pretty decent name for yourself within the underground scene of Boston. People trusted you, were loyal to you and didn’t take their business else where. But with that came the fuckers who wanted to challenge it. Who wanted your client base. Wanted the power that the three of you were gaining every day. 

It had gotten messy when you noticed the pills looked different, one taste telling you that you weren’t holding a baggie of Oxy or Hydro. But a bunch of useless shit. Most of the fuckers were now dead or dying in a back alley somewhere in zone 5, you both had guns and all they had were crappy shivs and planks. But somewhere In the tussle, Tess had gotten stabbed trying to defend you. Even though you could take care of yourself. A handmade shiv to the side. 

You’d put him down. The metal pipe one of his friends had tried to hit you with raining down on him until you heard the sickening crunch of god knows what part of him breaking. You’d put a bullet in his face too for good measure. 

It was a miracle you’d managed to get her back to your apartment without being spotted. But she was stubborn and wasn’t the type to scream and cry even if she did have a giant hole in her side. 

“ alright alright. Here we go on the table I need a flat surface “ it wasn’t particularly smooth or glamorous the way you flopped her onto the kitchen table, rushing to pull various shit from cupboards in the kitchen to try and stop your girlfriend from fucking bleeding out. 

“ Jesus fuckin Christ “ she groaned, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. You hurried back over to her, taking her blood soaked hands and gently pulling them away from where she was keeping pressure on her wound “ I swear to fuck if this is how I die- “

“ shut the fuck up “ you pushed up her shirt and started wiping away as much blood from the wound as you could, cleaning it as much as was possible in the circumstances “ you’re not dying. I’m no Florence fucking nightingale but I’m gonna patch you up. And you’re gonna be so pissed at me tomorrow because I stitch you up wonky, but that’s okay. Cause I saved your fucking life so you should be grateful “ 

She actually cracked a small smile at that, eyes locked on your face as you worked at cleaning her up. 

“ so grateful “ you examined the wound in the light of the crappy portable lamps, almost thanking the Lord when it didn’t seem to be too deep. No punctured organs you could hope. You reached for the needle and thread, but your hands were shaking too much to thread the needle and you cursed under your breath “ calm down “ it almost made you laugh. She was the one with a stab wound. Yet she was comforting you. The way she always did. 

“ I’m calm “ 

“ tell that to your face “ you glared at her and focussed on threading the needle.

You wanted to be pissed at her as she lay there watching you. She was too protective sometimes. You liked it. You couldn’t deny that but not when it meant she was getting hurt. Not when she put herself in harms way. Idiot.

You finally got the needle threaded and sat down to look at the wound. 

“ not too deep it should be okay. Gonna hurt though “ 

“ funny I always thought you were the masochist and I was the sadist “ you threw her a look, unable to stop the smile that tugged at your lips. 

“ you’re such an idiot “ her breath was shaky as you started stitching her up, trying to remain as neat as possible. She shifted as you clearly hit a more tender spot, a jumbled string of curse words leaving her mouth. 

“ wait until I get my hands on that motherfucker “ she spat, hissing in pain as you pushed the needle through her skin again, trying to be quick and get it over with. 

“ yeah? What you gonna do? Tell me “ talking was good. She’d taught you that. The times she’d had to patch you up, making you talk to keep your mind off of the pain. 

“ bash his- shit. Bash his fuckin skull in “

“ mhm and what else? “ you asked, wiping at the blood that continued to trickle down her stomach “ details. I want details “ you pushed, keeping her talking. Keeping her distracted. Making her brain tick over with how she planned to beat the living shit out of Robert, not about how painful a blunt needle and sewing thread felt dragging though her skin. 

“ maybe I should take some tips from you. You really fucked that asshole up, huh? “

“ well I learned from the best “ she gave a short laugh, eyes still locked on your face. 

“ fucking Robert “ 

“ mhm fuckin Robert “ you said as you made the final stitch. Her eyes were still on you as you doused the wound in alcohol, in some hope it would kill off at least some of the shit that might cause an infection “ there you go “ 

She pushed her self up onto her elbows with a groan, looking down at your handy work 

“ pretty as a fuckin picture “ 

“ I know. Should’a been a nurse “ you moved to clear away all the shit you’d been using, but she grabbed at your wrist. 

“ thank you “

“ of course “ she pulled you down and you pressed a kiss to her lips lightly, her split lip giving it the metallic taste of blood.

FOUR

You woke up in a cold sweat, thrashing around as the covers clung to your arms and legs in a way that felt too constricting. The horrors of whatever had been tormenting you in your sleep still assaulting you, even with your eyes open. 

You couldn’t even fully comprehend what your brain was showing you, just that you knew it was terrifying. Odd faces of your family, of people you had killed. 

“ baby. Baby! Hey! Calm down you’re okay! it’s me! It’s me. I’ve got you “ as your eyes began to focus on your surroundings, your eyes clearing of the dark fog of the nightmare that had attacked your peaceful sleep, you focussed on the strong hands gripping at your arms. The calm voice filtering through your own screams, hitting your ears. 

You reached out in the dark for her, squeezing her tightly when she pulled you into her arms. 

“ Tess “ you sobbed, praying it was her that had you trapped in her arms. Of course it was. It was always her, always the one to pull you back to reality when the nightmares got to you. 

“ that’s right. It’s me, you’re alright. Just a dream, I got you. It’s just a dream all a dream baby girl “ she murmured softly into your hair, stroking her hands over your back and gently shushing you. 

You hated when all the shit you had done came back to haunt you. It made you feel weak. Pathetic. 

Your own mind was punishing you. Attacking you from the inside out for being a shitty person. It never seemed to affect Tess. She had always been stronger than you, always the one doing the comforting. 

“ I’m sorry I- I didn’t mean to wake you I’m sorry- “

“ don’t be sorry. It’s okay “ you pressed your face against her neck, breathing in her scent in some attempt to ground yourself again “ baby “ she gently nudged your face up to look at her, hands cupping your cheeks gently “ you’re home, you’re safe. I’m right here “  

She brushed her thumbs over your tears, her tired eyes scanning your face. She had bags under her eyes, more scars littering her skin in the years since you’d first met her. But those eyes were still the same. No matter how much shit you both did, she still looked at you the same. 

“ you should go back to sleep “ you shook your head. Not wanting to go back to the fucking horrors that were waiting for you the second you closed your eyes  

“ cant. Cant do that shit again “ she sighed but nodded and sat back against the headboard, pulling you with her. 

“ alright. Then we stay awake “ her voice was soft, no sarcasm. No joking. She had to be up early for work, yet she would sacrifice her sleep to stay awake all night with you “ we can talk. Or you can lose at cards to me. Whatever you want, we’ll do it “ you looked up at her, her face illuminated by the moonlight seeping through the gap in the curtains. 

“ I love you “ you whispered, overcome with emotion as you looked at her. You didn’t say it to each other often. In fact she had let it slip maybe three times over the time you’d been together. She was uncomfortable with it. Never wanting to confront and confirm that she had someone she loved. That she had a weakness. That she had somebody to lose. 

She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and then your lips, telling you without saying it. 

“ I know baby. I know “ 

FIVE

If someone had told you that in the middle of the apocalypse you’d be out sunbathing, eating fresh fruit like you were on some kind of vacation. You’d have laughed in their faces. Yet there you were. The backyard of the house next door to Bill and Franks. They’d fixed it up when your visits there grew more regular a few years back. Frankly Bill didn’t seem to pleased by it. Some bullshit ‘ resource management’ thing. But Frank had said he’d loved the project. 

And it meant you got the only slice of true… normality the world had to offer you. You could play pretend. Act like the world was fine. That you and Tess were living in that little town, doing normal human things. Dinner parties with your neighbours, sunbathing in the garden and picnics. It made the return to Boston all that much harder each time, a shocking return to reality. One that was grey and smoky and filled with FEDRA assholes looking for any excuse to shoot. But in the moment, you lived in your make believe world. Forgetting you even had to go back there. 

You could lie in the grass with Tess. And pretend. 

“ I forgot what real strawberries tasted like “ you sighed, savouring every tiny bite of the fruit Frank had brought round for you both “ this is better than sex “ 

“ that’s fuckin rude “ you smiled up at her from where your head rested in her lap, her hair tied up and shiny with the nice shampoos Bill had stocked. She always looked brighter in Lincoln. Not just because the sun was shining and there wasn’t that ever looming greyness. She glanced down at you and your final tiny bites of strawberry “ why are you eating it so slowly? “

“ I’m savouring it “ she rolled her eyes but a smile was pulling at her lips. She started running a hand through your hair, making you sigh as the sun made your body feel sleepy and warm. Safe. 

You wondered if it was what life would’ve been like if the world hadn’t exploded. Of course you knew it wouldn’t in a way. You had lived miles away from Michigan, you probably would never have met. She’d probably still be married, maybe even had another kid as well as her son. Grown old and grey with a bunch of grandkids and died safe and warm in her bed. 

You shocked yourself a little at the jealousy that bubbled up in your chest at the thought. You didn’t want to think about her with someone else. She was yours. You were hers. That was it. 

You would have met. You would have ended up how you wanted. A cosy house and friendly neighbours. Dinner parties. Picnics. Dates. Safe and warm in your bed. 

“ is this technically a date? “ you suddenly asked, opening your eyes again as you got caught up in your daydreaming. Tess shrugged, her eyes closed as she let the sun warm her face. She had a thing for fresh air, always talking about how stuffy the city air was. How she loved being outside of the walls where the air was cleaner. 

“ you want it to be a date? “ you shrugged, her voice sounding slightly teasing. 

“ forget it “

“ oh come on I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It can be a date “ she looked down at you, stroking her hand over your hair. 

“ we’ve been together for all these years and never had a date “ 

“ there’s not exactly many options in the QZ is there “ you sighed and she gave you a look riddled with sympathy “ every time we visit you get like this “ she said softly “ you… drift “ you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on your hands. 

“ because I feel normal here “ you confessed “ I can pretend. Pretend we’re normal “ it felt silly to say out loud and you waited for her to laugh at you or make a joke. But she didn’t. She just gave a gentle nod “ I don’t have to worry about getting fucking jumped on my way home because someone wants our cards, or selling pills to officers that could have us hung up the gallows if they felt like it. I can forget that we’re shitty people for a bit “ 

Tess was quiet as you spoke, letting your words hang between you. You wondered if it would stem into one of her bad moods. She liked the position you had back in Boston. She liked the power. The control. But you were growing tired of it. And you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. Not when you got a taste of the opposite anytime you visited Bill and Franks. 

“ then let’s pretend “ she said after a few moments, standing up and holding out her hand to you “ come on “ you took her hand and she pulled you into her arms, guiding yours around her neck before looping her own around your waist “ I worry too “ she confessed  

“ sure “

“ I do. I worry all the time. About you. There is nothing and no one else in this world that I care about as much as you. You think I like all that shit we do? I do it because it means we have food. And safety. You have food and safety “ 

“ you love that shit don’t play with me Tess “ she sighed and shrugged 

“ I like control. But if I had to give that up to keep you safe? I’d do it in a fuckin heartbeat “ she closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath “ you know. When Joel is done with the battery thing… the Tommy thing. We could lay low for a while “ you quirked an eyebrow at that 

“ you? Lay low? Yeah I’ll believe that when I fuckin see it “ 

“ I’m serious. Im getting too old for that bullshit “ the look in her eyes seemed genuine. She was serious. 

“ really? “

“ maybe we could… even stay here. For a while. I could convince them to let us stay. Bill might like having some extra help for Frank “ you pondered on it, leaving the shitty zone behind. Your illegal runs. Your drug running. Live out the rest of your days in the peace and quiet of Lincoln “ we do this final run with Joel. I’m finalising the trade with Robert for a battery. Joel is sorting the truck. We get him to Tommy in one piece and then… we come back here. Yeah? “ 

Your face lit up and you nodded, a small laugh leaving your mouth. 

“ I’d. I’d like that “ Tess smiled too, nudging her fingers under your chin and pulling you in to kiss her. 

“ hmm you taste like strawberry “ 

+ ONE

Tess was acting weird. Erratic. It wasn’t like her. You stood hopelessly with Joel as she charged around the room, chucking shit out of boxes and checking the pockets of the dead firefly’s on the floor. Searching for something. Anything. 

“ Tess. What’re you doing? “ Joel spoke before you could. You couldn’t move from where you were stood, an awful biting feeling in your chest as you watched her. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. This wasn’t your Tess. Tess wasn’t erratic and wild. She was organised. Concise. She knew what she was doing at all times and had full control of the situation. 

“ I mean there’s gotta be a map or something right? “ Joel looked over at you, eyebrows raised in some silent request for you to see what the fuck was going on with her. But you still couldn’t move “ Ellie. Did Marlene say where this hospital was? Did she say where she was taking you? “

“ no I- just some place west “

“ west. Fuckin west “ she went back to ferreting through their pockets, chucking useless shit like a pen and a pair of glasses across the room. 

“ Tess we’re done here. Let’s just go home and- “

“ that’s not my fuckin home “ she wouldn’t look at you. Even though your eyes were burning into her, she avoided your gaze. Something was wrong “ our luck had to run out sooner or later “ she said, standing up from where she’d been searching one of the bodies. 

Luck. 

Luck?

“ holy shit. She’s infected “ Ellie’s voice broke the small silence that had fallen over the group, her tone sounding pained as she said the words you had been refusing to even think about. 

The look on her face was enough of an answer for you. And it was the thing that finally made you move. You crossed the distance between you in purposeful strides, stopping in front of her 

“ show me “ 

“ look I- “

“ show. Me “ you watched her jaw clench as she grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled it down to reveal exactly what was wrong with her. 

A set of teeth marks surrounded by angry, red skin. Blood was oozing out of the wound, a colour too dark to be normal. But the worst part? You could see the tendrils of the fungus under her skin, raised in her veins as they crawled closer and closer to her brain. The bite was on her shoulder and the fungus was already reaching up the side of her neck. How fast did it move? How long had it been since you’d ran into the clickers? 10 minutes ago? If that? 

They had been the only run in youd had. It had been the only possible place she could’ve gotten bitten. In 10 minutes it was already spreading that far? 

Your mind rushed back to the museum. The clickers that had rushed you, separating you both from Joel and Ellie. The way she had pushed you out of the way of one of them. But she had killed it. How could it possibly have…

“ oops, right? “ she said quietly, eyes glassy with tears that she seemed to be desperately attempting to hold in. Your brain refused to process the information. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. 

It was Tess. Strong and brave and smart Tess. Tess that killed infected like it was nothing. That had lasted 20 fucking years and never been bitten. Tess that was taking you to Lincoln to live out the rest of your days in safety. 

“ Tess- “ she pushed past you and headed for Ellie before you could say anything else, her mind clearly preoccupied. 

“ bandage off. Show me your arm “ you watched her grab Ellie’s arm, ignoring your presence now and talking to Joel. Her mouth was moving but your ears were ringing too loud, not focussing on what she was saying. Watching as her hand started shaking, twitching. It was attacking her nervous system already. 

How long would it be until it was in her brain? Controlling and taking over the mind of the woman you loved. Claiming her body as it’s own, her thoughts, her feelings, turning her into an empty shell of a human. A puppet. 

Your fingers prickled with the lack of air entering your lungs, anxiety overwhelming you, your chest tight and head light. The sudden realisation of what was happening crashing down on you, suffocating you with a heavy weight on your chest that made it feel as though your lungs were collapsing. 

“ oh shit you’re not infected too are you? You don’t look right man “ both Tess and Joel turned to you as Ellie spoke, her voice sounding echoed and far off. 

“ I think I’m having a heart- a heart attack “ you gasped, shaking your head and grabbing at your chest. She appeared in front of you, hands reaching out to you before pulling them away again. 

“ you’re not having a heart attack “ Joel was talking again, but you couldn’t hear him. Your eyes were locked on hers, the tears she’d been holding back silently rolling over her cheeks. She reached out for you again and actually let herself touch you this time. Her hands were trembling as she placed them on your arms. Was it the infection? Or was she scared? Or was it both? 

“ Tess- “

“ shhh let me talk I don’t have a lot of time “ your eyes fell down to the bite mark peaking over the collar of her shirt and she squeezed your arms lightly “ hey. Up here. Look at me not that “ you dragged your eyes back up to her face. Even if it was just so you could burn it into the backs of your eyelids, every single line and scar and freckle that it held “ Joel’s gonna get you and the kid to Bill and Franks- “

“ I’m not- “

“ shut. The fuck up. You get to Bill and Franks they’ll know what to do with the kid. And hey. They love you, they’ll let you stay there with them even if I’m not there- “

“ I’m not going to fuckin Bill and and Franks without you “

“ yes you are. Get the kid there. Bill and Frank they’ll look after you. They owe me “ before you could protest again you startled as one of the body’s on the other side of the room suddenly moved, screeching before Joel shot it in the head. 

There was a commotion somewhere outside, drawing Joel over the door of the building. You looked down at the man he’d just shot, the moss and earth beneath his fingers moving. You’d heard that the fungus could grow underground, knew it could connect colonies of infected miles apart. Is that what it was? Drawing a whole heard of infected in your direction? 

“ how many? “ Tess asked 

“ all of em “ she gave a small nod, hastily wiping away her tears and leaving you again. You watched her as she started pushing barrels over, tossing boxes of grenades and ammo onto the floor. 

“ what are you doing? “ 

“ making sure they won’t follow you “ your ears were ringing again, head aching as the fumes from the barrels drifted into your nose. 

Your hands slipped into your hair, pulling at it in a way that surely made you looked mad. But you needed to feel your scalp prickle with pain, something to wake you up from the fucking nightmare you were living through. 

You watched her talking to Joel again, shaking your head as you tried to wake yourself up. Waiting to feel her hands pull you into her arms and tell you it was okay. It was all a dream and you were safe.

But it didn’t come. You were awake. You were living the nightmare. 

You heart was aching in your chest. You felt as though you could feel each and every heartstring snapping. You had often wondered how after so many of millions of years that human beings had walked the earth, living and adapting to their surroundings, they had not evolved enough to not feel the splintering pain of heartbreak. How had humans evolved so thoroughly, so much that they could adapt to live even after the world had gone to shit. Trained themselves to use guns and knifes to protect themselves yet left their hearts so delicate, so vulnerable that something as fickle as love could cause such a gut wrenching pain.

You’d much rather take a knife to the gut or a bullet to the head. You were certain it would hurt less. 

She reappeared in front of you a few moments later. Her hands cupped your face and you wrapped your fingers tightly around her wrists. 

“ I love you. I’m sorry I never told you as much I should’ve “ she was saying goodbye

“ I’m not fuckin going anywhere Tess you can stop with bullshit goodbyes”

“ you’re gonna get out of here. And go to Bill and Frank. And you’re gonna grow old as them fuckers, you’re gonna be safe. And eat strawberries. And paint with Frank and lay in the sun. You’re gonna live. The way that you’ve always wanted to “ she didn’t get it. Didn’t understand. You wanted those thins. But only if she was there with you. Not alone “ they’ll look after you “ 

“ you look after me “ she closed her eyes, shaking her head as tears kept flowing down both of your faces. 

“ I can’t anymore “ she whispered. 

The noise outside was growing louder, hundreds of infected barely a minute away. 

“ I’m staying here. With you “ she shook her head again and pressed her forehead to yours for a second. 

“ I’m sorry “ your brow furrowed “ Joel “ you realised what was happening a second too late. Joel’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, lifting you from your feet 

“ let me fuckin go! Put me down! Joel! “ you thrashed and kicked and punched but Joel was stronger than you, no reaction to your squirming as he dragged Ellie along with his other hand. Tears streamed down your face as you craned your neck to try and see her, every ounce of energy you had being used to try and break free of Joel’s tight grip “ Tess! Joel please! Please we can’t leave her. We can’t! Joel! “ 

It wasn’t until you were outside that you managed to break free. 

Only because the building exploding behind you sent the three of you flying, landing face down in the grass. You rolled over, eyes wide as you took in the site before you. Flames licked out of the windows, engulfing the building and all of the infected inside. 

And Tess. 

Some part of you still refused to accept it, making you scramble to your feet without your full consent or knowledge. Stumbling back towards the building only to have Joel’s arms wrap tightly around you again. 

“ it’s over. It’s over “ 

“ no! No! “ Joel’s arm stayed tightly around you as you fell to your knees, sobs wracking your body. 

Because you had no one left. 

Tess was gone. And you were on your own. 

[iprobablyshipit91]

Magical Blooms

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: none I think?

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: Flower Shop AU

SPN Masterlist

My first ever Dean Winchester fic and I’m terrified. Please let me know what you think! Also, all the flowers used at each part of the story are used for a reason…

This wasn't a big deal. Nope. No. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Actually, it was the exact opposite of a big deal. An insignificant speck if you will. And one that certainly hadn’t even registered on your radar. After all, there was a flurry of customers walk through the doors to Magical Blooms each and every day, and quite a number of these were regulars. Just because one of those regulars was an undeniably gorgeous man that flirted shamelessly, owned more flannel than you thought possible for one person, had adorable bow legs, and the most captivating green eyes that you had ever seen was most certainly not a big deal. And just because he was inexplicably absent today after you’d seen him every Friday without fail for the last six months was also not a big deal. It's not like you had really noticed anyway, having spent the morning softly singing Christmas songs along to the radio whilst putting together a similarly themed bouquet with holly, pine, and red chrysanthemums. And okay, maybe you were secretly hoping he would love said bouquet, but that also wasn’t a big deal. You just liked to please your customers. And anyway, all of this had to be no big deal whether you liked it or not because he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he came and bought flowers for weekly without fail, coming into the store and carefully choosing something different and unique rather than having an easier standing order. You couldn’t decide if he was completely in love or just an incredibly attentive boyfriend. Either way, you couldn’t let it be a big deal.

He had first rushed in to your little shop at the end of May and purchased a beautiful and remarkably expensive bouquet of white roses. You couldn’t help but drink in the way he had looked in a dark Henley, red plaid button down and jeans, shaking yourself a little to ensure you weren’t just gaping as he paid with his card. The small smirk on his face before he hurried out told you that you might not have succeeded as well as you’d hoped.

The next week he was back much to your delight; his dirty blonde hair gorgeously disheveled and green eyes sparkling at you the second he walked in. After casually browsing the shop he made a beeline towards you.

"Which of these do you like better?" he had asked as he approached, one hand holding yellow carnations and the other deep pink gloxinia. You put the pen down on top of the order form you’d been failing to fill out for the last ten minutes and forced yourself to go into professional mode. You were used to helping guys pick flowers; just because this one looked like a damn Greek god didn’t stop you doing your job.

"They are both great choices. Are they for a special someone? Or maybe a special occasion?"

"Well sweetheart, I guess I would say they’re for a special someone." he smirked, wetting his lips with his tongue and you couldn't help the way your heart beat a little faster at his deep rumble.

"Okay, well what sort of flowers does she like? Or does she have a favourite colour maybe?"

"Uh…" he faltered.

"Or he." You quickly amended, hoping you hadn't offended him. His eyes bulged a little and you were sure the flowers weren't for a man. You couldn't help feeling a little pleased.

"No." he shook his head, looking a little flustered. He took a deep breath. “No. I…" But his answer was cut short by the sharp call of Rowena, your interfering but well meaning boss and the owner of Magical Blooms.

"Y/n!"

"Excuse me just one second," you told him before meeting Rowena at the door to the back room.

"I don't pay you to flirt with customers now do I dear. I don't care how attractive they are." You felt your cheeks heat up at the volume of the older lady’s Scottish brogue. There was no way he hadn't heard her.

"Rowena!" You whispered indignantly. "Don't be embarrassing. He is buying flowers for his girlfriend!"

"Well that is a damned shame" she whispered back with a mischievous smirk, her eyes darting over to the perfection still stood at the counter. “Because that man is delicious." You rolled your eyes. You had a strange but very close relationship with the older woman having worked in her shop since you were a kid. From the way you spoke to each other though people wouldn’t have known. Most of the time your conversations sounded more like arguments. You spun on your heel with Rowena calling with a smirk "Remember I won't hesitate to fire you!"

You heaved a sigh, biting your lip to stop the retort that was brewing. Instead you made your way back to the handsome customer, plastering on a smile to cover the fact you were positive he had heard every word.

"Sorry. My boss." You rolled your eyes again.

He laughed; a deep sound that struck you low in the stomach and sent your heart into overdrive once again. "I understand, Sweetheart."

You shot him a grateful smile, keeping eye contact longer than was necessary. The green captivating you completely.

"So…do you know what flowers your girlfriend likes?" You asked again, desperately clinging on to your professionalism.

He shook his head a smirk on his handsome face. "We have only just met."

"Hmmm…." You thought briefly, glancing between the flowers. "I would say most women would probably pick the carnations out the two. They are a pretty safe bet."

He nodded but looked at you thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes, like he was trying to read your expression. "I asked which you liked better though, and you prefer the pink ones, don’t you?"

You tried to hide your surprise that he had noticed your preference for the gloxinia. You frowned and his smirk grew, his eyebrow rising mischievously.

“Yes, I just think they’re beautiful." You said honestly with a shrug. With a satisfied nod and a breath-taking smile that lit up his whole face, he quickly returned the carnations to their place.

"Gloxinia it is then!" he said; his smile boyish and utterly adorable.

You grinned back helplessly as you reached for the flowers in his hand and firmly ignored the hum of electricity in your body as your fingers gently brushed.

"My name is Dean." He said as you rung up the bouquet.

"Y/n."

That visit was just the start and you very quickly found that you looked forward to your Friday shift more than any other. Each week Dean would walk around the shop in his flannel shirt, examining all the available arrangements and then ask for your input and opinion. There was always a smile and usually a wink or flirty comment too and you couldn’t help how quickly he became your favorite customer. As the weeks went on you eventually started talking about other topics. You learnt early on about Dean’s pride and joy; a sleek black Impala that he affectionately called Baby. It almost frightened you how soon the hum of the engine became familiar to you as you eagerly awaited his next visit.

In late July he told you that he would be gone for two weeks while he visited his younger brother in California, pride once again colouring his tone. You had been taken aback at how much you had actually ended up missed him in that fortnight and realised just how important his visits had become to you. Remembering his girlfriend however you mentally scolded yourself and forced your thoughts elsewhere. But then Friday had rolled back around and he was there, almost first thing, in relaxed jeans, his favourite red plaid button down and damn it if your heart didn’t do a flip just at the mere sight of him. There was an eagerness to his expression that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he had missed you too.

"Welcome back!" You smiled despite the promises you made to yourself to take a step back. To not let yourself fall for someone who was already taken.

"Thanks sweetheart! It's so good to be back," he said as he closed the space between you. "I, er, well I brought you something." He pulled a small wrapped box from his pocket. You looked at it quizzically. "A gift, for my favorite florist." he explained. "I saw this and, well, it made me think of you."

Your eyebrows shot up; you didn't know what to say. After hesitating a moment too long he shook the box slightly for you to take.

He waited patiently, rubbing his jaw with nerves, as you unwrapped it. It was a dainty gold necklace with a small primrose pressed in glass dangling from the middle. It was beautiful and so very thoughtful. "Dean… wow. Its wonderful. I absolutely love it." You smiled up at him shyly and you saw him visibly relax as he beamed back.

"I could er, help? Put it on I mean. If you wanted me to?”

You nodded, passing him the necklace before turning slowly and moving your hair out of the way for him. You steadied your breathing as best you could, feeling your heart pound in your ears. His warm fingers brushed softly against your neck as he fastened the clasp and you felt yourself shiver involuntary. You looked back over your shoulder to him, his hot breath tickling your neck from your proximity yet he didn’t step away and you found you couldn't move either. You were trapped in a space full of his smell, his body heat, and your own thudding heart.

"Y/n. I…" Dean began only to be interrupted by the thudding of the shop door as a frantic customer came barrelling through. The spell you were both under immediately broke and you stepped away, breathless and eager to get rid of the interruption. But after fifteen gruelling minutes of helping debate the merits of pink roses over red; Dean motioned that he had to go. It was only later that night that you realised he hadn't bought any flowers.

The beautiful gift and his lack of purchase had filled you with a strange hope. Had he perhaps broken up with his girlfriend? What would he have said before you got interrupted? Would he have asked you out? The questions plagued you all night and into your shift the next day. Your fingers toying with the trinket around your neck constantly as your thoughts wandered to Dean. You were still brooding over the possibilities as you helped your best friend Benny pick out flowers for his anniversary.

"These are perfect as usual! What would I do without you, Sugar?" Came his Southern drawl as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head affectionately. You rolled your eyes at his antics when you suddenly noticed Dean in the middle of the door way, your heart soaring at his unexpected appearance. You smiled brightly but he didn’t return it; a strange, sullen, look on his face. You stopped yourself from frowning and turned back to your friend; eager for him to go so you could speak to Dean alone, preferably before Benny realised who he was as the embarrassment opportunities would be just too great for him to pass up.

“So, I’ll see you this weekend?” You say, remembering Andrea had invited you and some other friends over for dinner.

“You will indeed,” he replies easily, pressing another kiss to your hairline before retreating out the shop, the door thudding behind him.

You turned, your eyes searching the shop for Dean. Benny is long forgotten as your mind turned towards finally finishing your interrupted conversation. He was studying a wall of flowers, half turned away from you.

"Hey!" You said a little breathlessly as you reached him. "I’ve been expecting you." He turned with raised eyebrows "I mean, you know, since you didn't, er, buy anything yesterday." You gave a small smile as your stomach erupted with butterflies. Your fingers latch onto the cool glass of your necklace, the necklace he had just given you the day before, for reassurance. "The…uh… hyacinths are fresh." You gestured awkwardly at the yellow flowers in front of him. “Or I have some marigolds you might like?” You were hoping this would be it, that he was going to turn around and tell you he wasn't here for flowers. That actually, he no longer had someone to buy flowers for. Instead he sighed and pouted. "Yeah, the hyacinths are fine."

You nodded, feeling your heart sink like a stone. Ever the professional though you gesture to an arrangement. "Is this one okay?"

"Sure." He grabbed it without even really looking and swiftly walked past you, heading to the register. Silence reigned as you rung him up. Instead of bright eyes and friendly banter there was a crease in his brow and a slight frown. It was the first time you remembered feeling uncomfortable around Dean and it felt so wrong. Your mind floundered for conversation topics. You paused before handing him his receipt.

"Dean. Is everything okay?"

He finally looked at you, and flashed half-hearted smile that looked more like a grimace at best. "I'm fine, Sweetheart. Just a lot on my mind."

"Oh, sure." You replied stiffly as you handed him his receipt. He took it and turned to go. You felt a weird constriction in your throat; the meeting had not gone as planned. You grabbed at your necklace and just as he placed his hand on the door you called out. "See you next week?"

You meant it as a goodbye but you could hear the question in your voice as clear as day. He paused, tossing you a look back, and his face broke into another small smile, though this one was much more genuine. "Of course, Sweetheart. Next week."

The next week came and he appeared and things went back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. You talked and flirted and he bought his flowers. You never took the necklace off and felt sure he must have noticed, though he never once mentioned it. You tried not to be disappointed, you tried to be satisfied with your relationship, limited as it was, and enjoy the moments you shared. Mostly you succeeded. Sometimes you couldn't help yourself and tried to pry information about his mysterious girlfriend.

"So, you two must have an anniversary coming up soon?" You asked one day in early November as he contemplated some red carnations.

"Huh?" he turned in confusion.

"Well, when your first came in at the end of May you said you had just met someone. So your six month anniversary as a couple should be coming up." You rushed to explain yourself. You glanced shyly up when he didn't immediately respond. He had a wicked smirk plastered on his face.

"Why, Sweetheart. I didn’t realise you monitored my love life so closely."

"I don’t.” You quickly covered with a roll of your eyes. “It's just my job to remember this kind of stuff. That’s all.”

“Right,” he said disbelievingly, the mischief never leaving his eyes. “And how do you know that we would even celebrate such a minor anniversary? That’s very chick flick.”

You scoffed. "Please. Dean you are such a hopeless romantic. I’d put money on you celebrating any anniversary!"

"I take offense at the idea that I am hopeless or romantic!" He points his finger at you.

"Oh come on! You literally come here to buy flowers for her every week! How much more romantic can you get?"

"Yeah well, perhaps I only come to see you." he shot back, the teasing words sounding oddly serious with his tone. You meet his gaze and find yourself unable and to look away. The moment stretched on before you finally bit your lip and turned away with your heart thundering in your ears. It was only later that night while you pondered what he could have meant that you realised he had, once again, avoided telling you anything about his girlfriend.

You thought about his words often as you absently clutched your necklace. You wondered what he had meant and if you were crazy to think he had meant anything serious.

Benny had caught you in just such a moment of contemplation last week.

"Hello! Y/n! Anybody home?" He called snapping you back to reality.

"Sorry what?"

"What is up with you today, Sugar? It’s like your not even here." Benny asked.

"It's Friday." Rowena responded from her perch behind the register. You shot her a dirty look.

“What’s Friday got to do with anything?” Benny asked, still looking confused.

“Loverboy is coming today."

"Don't call him that." You groaned as Benny perked up at the same time and asked “Loverboy?”

"Well, what should we call him?" Rowena smirked wickedly.

"Nothing! Because he is just a customer. We aren’t dating. We aren’t lovers." Rowena just raised her eyebrows, smirk unwavering and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“Hold up,” Benny interrupted. “Is this the mysterious Dean you mentioned a few weeks back?”

“Indeed,” Rowena supplied as you pinched your nose in frustration.

“Yes, but he’s just a friend and he has a girlfriend. There’s nothing there.”

“But you like him, Honey. I can tell,” Benny points at you.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, he’s got a girlfriend Benny. I can’t forget that.”

Benny clucks his tongue sympathetically and pulls you in for a hug.

“Can I…”

“You’re never meeting him,” you interrupt quickly, knowing exactly what your friend is going to ask.

"Actually if you stick around you are guaranteed to meet him." Rowena pointed out unhelpfully.

You pull away from Benny annoyed. “Are you still here?” You grumble to your boss. She just smiles in response and makes her way to the back room.

"That settles it. I’m staying until he shows up." Benny declares and you know better than to argue with him.

"Fine. But if you embarrass me you can find someone else to help you with Andrea’s Christmas present!"

You didn't have to wait that long; fifteen minutes later Dean came sauntering through the door. He was dressed in his usual shirt and jacket combination and of course your traitor heart sped up at the sight of him. Benny had kept out of sight as you helped Dean choose a bunch of snowdrops. He then pounced before you could move to the register.

"Y/n, do you think Andrea will appreciate this bouquet?" He rounded the corner and then gave the biggest look of fake surprise as he pretended to see Dean for the first time.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Sugar! I didn't know you were with a customer." He said with mock surprise. You barely contained your eye roll at his ridiculous antics.

You forced your tone to be bright. "No problem. Dean this is my best friend Benny. Benny, yes I’m sure your wife will love those.”

"Best friend? Wife?" You heard him murmur before Benny began speaking again.

"Me and Y/n go way back. She always knows just what my Andrea will love."

You glanced at Dean and was pleased to see a wide, goofy, grin plastered to his face.

“She always picks out the best flowers,” he agreed.

There was a pleasant pause and then Deans phone rung. He apologised and quickly walked out of the shop to answer.

"I can see why you like him Honey, and he certainly has eyes for you." Benny smiled as soon as the door closed.

“Oh, stop it,” you attempt to brush it off although you hear Rowena’s voice drift out from the back saying “I told you so!”

Dean stuck his head back in. "Sorry. Sam emergency, I’m going to have to leave town. Can I pay for these when I get back?"

"Of course! No problem."

"Thanks. See ya next week?"

You had nodded, already looking forward to next Friday.

But next Friday had come and gone and Dean had not shown up. Which, of course, was no big deal.

"Did I miss Dean today?" Rowena asks offhandedly.

"No. He didn't come in." You try to match her tone.

"Really? Well that is good news."

You jerk your head up in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Well dear, if he isn't buying flowers maybe he’s broken up with that girlfriend of his. Which means the two of you can finally stop making eyes at each other and go out."

You feel a thrill in your heart but reply sarcastically. "Please. If Dean was interested in me I think he would have made a move long ago."

Rowena’s reply was only a knowing smile and a short "Mmm-hmm".

You try not to get your hopes up. You fail miserably.

An hour later, Rowena is gone and your closing up the shop for the night. The lights are off as you pick up your keys when you hear a tap on the door. You turn around expecting a desperate customer and gasp when you see Dean grinning back at you.

He looks just like he always did; hair disheveled, a flannel shirt layered over a black tee, and just enough scruff on his face to add to the whole rugged look he had going for him.

As you walk through the darkened shop with only the street light shining through the windows you feel a mix of nerves and excitement at his arrival after Rowena’s earlier words. You unlock the door and let him in. Cold air sweeps in and you convince yourself that is why you shiver and not because of his proximity.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not too late. I only just got back into town." he says.

You shake your head. "No, it’s fine. I was just leaving." There is a pause and you realise how much more intimate the shop seems in the low light. In the shadow you can't quite make out his eyes, but he’s staring at you. "I was beginning to think maybe something awful had happened to you."

"Like what?" he asks, his teeth flashing in the dark.

"The flu, a car crash, an alien invasion?"

He shook his head. "None of those things could keep me away." His cold hand reaches out and toys with a strand of your hair. You don’t understand how such a simple gesture could suck the breath from your lungs and send your head spinning.

"Rowena thought… well that maybe you might have broken up with your girlfriend." You bite your lip, afraid of his answer.

He chuckles. "Well it seems both you and Rowena were wrong." Your stomach drops and you step back, your hope shattering and walls around your heart flying up. You wish he hadn't shown up at all now. At least then you could have had one night of blissful fantasy.

"I see. I..uh… I need to get going." Your voice dull. "Maybe try the grocery store. I am sure…"

'"No. Y/n. You don't understand." he interrupts, his hand rubbing his jaw. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"What? Since when?" Of all the things you thought Dean might say this was not one of them.

He grins sheepishly, dips his head and rubs his neck. "I never even had a girlfriend. The first time I came in I was in a hurry, getting flowers for my friends wedding. I wanted to ask you out but I didn't have time. So I came back and I had it all planned. I was going to have you pick your favorite flowers and then give them to you and ask you out. But then Rowena threatened to fire you for flirting and I…"

"But she didn't mean that!" You interrupt, your mind reeling to make sense of his story.

"I know that now! But I didn’t then and I was worried. I didn't think you would want to date me if I got you fired. So I let you think I had a girlfriend and kept buying flowers just so I could spend time with you."

"That's…that's ridiculous."

Dean chuckles. "That's what my brother said when I explained everything to him in August. So I bought you the necklace and I was going to tell you everything. But then I saw you with Benny and I, well I thought he was your boyfriend."

"Benny is married!" You protest.

"Again, I know that now! But you two seemed awfully close and maybe I was a bit blinded by jealously." Dean ducks his head and shuffles his feet. "But I didn't want to stop seeing you. So I settled for spending a few minutes with you each week, even though I thought you loved someone else."

"That sounds familiar." You reply. You know exactly what he means because it is the echo of your own heart.

Dean steps closer his hand reaching for your cheek. "Really?"

You nod and lean closer, your heart threatening to leave your body. "Yes. Dean I…" But Dean doesn't let you finish. His cool lips find yours in a gentle caress. He pulls back his breath hot on your cheek.

"Sorry I just, I've wanted to do that for six months." You grin and grab his shirt. Pulling his lips back to yours, eager to taste and claim. You melt into each other, your heavy breathing and occasional moans filling the dark shop. You grip his hair and he caresses your neck. You slide a hand to his chest and he pulls at your hips. When you break, gasping for breath, you both smile.

Dean tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "Can I buy you dinner?" he asks, still a little breathless.

He comes into the shop the next afternoon.

"Are you coming in on Saturday now?" Rowena asks with narrowed eyes.

"Well actually…" Dean begins, scratching behind his ear.

"Dean, what can I help you with?" You appear a broad grin lighting your face. Rowena shrugs and leaves you alone; thinking that if the boy doesn't make a move soon she might have to ban him from the shop.

Dean shoots you a smirk. "I was hoping you might have some mistletoe. With Christmas being right around the corner and all."

"It's your lucky day. I think we have some in the back." You nod your head and Dean follows you to the back room, a bounce in his step.

Rowena doesn't bother to mention that there is no mistletoe in the back room nor does she comment on your disheveled state when you finally emerge empty handed twenty minutes later.

[t00nyah]

so! posting something i meant to post for a long time! also near the end(before the cut) there's gonna be a thing i spoke about in the last post and spent quite some time on it... so i would appreciate if you looked at it :")

✨my take on sinner kromer au!✨

sinner kromer aboard the mephistopheles -05/07/2023

so! in my sinner kromer au, she managed to get sinclair into nagel und hammer, but then left for seemingly no reason. she comes back after some time as a part of limbus company to see what she incubated, being way lower than he is, seeing his grateness from the bottom. but sinclair...is still terrified of her. he has no purpose except to continue what they started, but when she's gone, he's lost and just following their beliefs. he wanted to run away badly, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that any moment, whenever he tries, she will come back. if he tries, there's no point, she'll find him. he can't run from kromer.

so when she's back, it's...terrific. for the both sides. the sinners get to see kromer's real persona, sinclair literally can't do anything with his fear of kromer, he doesn't want to.

the other sinners kinda knew that she's weird, even her friendliness felt weird, and then they learn about her unhealthy obsession with humanity. now they know why she was disgusted by gregor's hand, they know, why her gaze fell on dante so frequently during her free time, why she was so interested in their head.

now they know that she's the one to fault of this exact inquisition they witness, now they know about her manipulations over her classmate.

no one cares for her much after that, they don't even try to sympathize with her anymore. it's damn obvious that she thinks she's in the right here.

in the end, they kind of. have to get rid of kromer and take sinclair in instead, so they swap to their canon positions again! except kromer doesn't die yet and sinclair is way more fucked up now.

i've written a small uhhh fic? taking place? in 3-13 (when kromer is first heard)? here it is on google docs >>> 3-13. Silent night. (one day i'll start uploding my fics on ao3 lol)

kromer's neat haircut -05/07/2023

she also has more uhmm... carefully cut hair. sinclair did it for her. in reality, she wouldn't even care what exactly her hairstyle would be, she only cares for the fact that sinclair did this for her.

and here's a thing i reeeally wanted to show:

my cool sinner kromer sprite that i...almost entirely drew by myself not counting her head base

kromer battle sprite -06/10/2023-06/12/2023

i imagine her base skills are slash/blunt/pierce and lust/pride/wrath (well just like in the game) tho dunno what exactly they'd be, base ego is deffo lust...wonder what kind of ego could kromer manifest, knowing her distortion...

speaking of egos, there's NO reality where sinner kromer doesn't have roseate desire ego, amirite? gonna put this one under the cut for my own reasons, but there's nothing that bad, just roseate kromer, clothes stay on, nothing much

roseate desire kromer, head full of lustful thoughts -05/07/2023

thanks for reading my sinner kromer au post if you made it here:]

[dragon-creates]

Just How Fast The Night Changes (Does it Ever Drive You Crazy?)

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Trigger warning, this chapter does describe panic attacks and flashbacks of childhood trauma so again, always feel free to skip this fic. Again, this was written and posted on ao3 before the Mario Movie came out. Other than that, enjoy and feel free to leave constructive criticism!

.

.

.

Present

Well, this was fantastic.

One minute, Luigi was just doing his job, fixing the pipes at an abandoned factory with Mario, their business had taken off ever since…Anyways, he was there one minute and then the next he was being chased down by some type of dinosaur skeletons, before hiding in an abandoned castle, then being tied up by some hooded figures and dragged along to someone that they were calling ‘King Bowser’.

When Luigi finally had a moment to process everything, he was then met face to face with the most terrifying thing he had even seen. Sitting of a throne was some sort of reptilian beast, he was absolutely large with sharp teeth that would devour Luigi within seconds. Luigi gulped; he really did not want that to happen.

Once the hooded figures untied him, the king slowly descended down the steps of his throne and made his way towards the green clad man. Before Luigi could even think about running, a blue aura wrapped around him and pushed him towards the beast, who was much larger up close. From what the beast told him, he was King Bowser of the Koopas, he wanted to rule the world and apparently was also looking for his brother. He had pulled at his moustache hairs, demanding if Luigi know about his whereabouts, to which Luigi replied pathetically with Mario’s exact description thinking that he could throw this king of his brother’s track…then his moustache got ripped out.

He had screamed at the top of his lungs, stopping when the little men in red hoods dragged him down to the dungeon. And now he was here, in a cage hovering above lava, next to a star who couldn’t stop talking about death and no doubt was going to be interrogated about his brother again soon.

Despite this being a bizarre situation, Luigi wasn’t surprised that it happened to him. Out of the two brothers, of course it was going to be him to end up in some type of hellish land. Maybe he deserved it after everything he did. Who was he kidding, he did, he just hoped Mario was safe.

.........

Luigi couldn’t tell how long it had been, he couldn’t see the sky, so he had no way of knowing how much time had passed. All he knew that the guards had brought him a few meals and that he did sleep a couple of times, but that was it. He was about to fall asleep again when his cage shook and vaulted him up in front of a koopa guard.

He unlocked Luigi’s cage as the plumber nervously walked out. “Is this yours?” the guard asked as he flung a bag to the ground. It was Luigi’s plumbing tools! “How did you know this was mine?”

“I didn’t,” the guard said, “You just told me yourself.”

“Oh,” dammit Luigi, you and your stupid mouth.

“Follow me,” the guard ordered, turning on his heel and away from the dungeons, Luigi following. The less he was near that cage, the better.

While he was led hallway to hallway, Luigi took the time to observe his surroundings. The ground was a polished red marble covered with soft red carpet, and the hallways had beautiful matching wallpaper embroidered with gold. Despite his circumstances, the place was quite lovely.

Finally, they had arrived at some type of shower room. “This shower over here isn’t working,” the guard informed him, “Since those tools are made to deal with these sorts of things, you can work on this.”

“Uh, why me?” Luigi asked.

“You’re a plumber, right?” the guard queried.

“Well, yeah but-”

“That you have the abilities to fix these,” he finished, “If you do a good job of this, then we’ll find more work for you to do around the castle. Its better than being in that cell of yours, isn’t it?”

Was this Bowser’s idea of interrogation, get one of his soldiers to make Luigi due free labour? “Did your King tell you to do this?”

The guard was silent for a second, seeming as though he wasn’t expecting for that to be asked of him. “Get to work,” he replied bluntly and turned away as he kept watch of the door.

Luigi shrugged, whether Bowser ordered it or not, he was just glad to be out of that cage. The shower was an easy fix, despite this being a magical land it still had the same pipes as the ones in his home. He did look over his shoulder once in a while to check that the guard was still there, though as he checked one more time before he finished the pipe, he saw that guard was shyly waving at someone. He looked to the door and saw another koopa guard waving back with the same shyness before walking away. The soldier sighed longingly as the other departed, like he was in…oh.

“So, who was that?” Luigi asked.

The guard jumped and turned to Luigi, his face beet red. “I beg your pardon?!” they squawked.

“Sorry, sorry!” Luigi giggled, “It just seemed that you knew them, that was all.

“Th-they’re no one,” said the koopa, “Just one of my companions.”

“Well, they seem to really like you,” Luigi smiled.

“Y-you’re in no way shape or form to make those statements! Get back to work!” the koopa yelled.

“Of course,” Luigi sighed, “Sorry,” He went back to the pipe, just a few more adjustments and he was done. Why did he even do that? It wasn’t like he knew the koopa, why was he talking like they were friends? That was so stupid, just so stu-

“What gave you the indication that they like me?”

Luigi whipped round, “Come again?”

“You said that they might like me, right?” said the koopa, blushing, “If courting is the same back at your world, do you think they might like me back?”

Luigi wasn’t really an expert in relationships, that was more Mario’s thing. Every time he tried to for romance, it always ended up in embarrassment, heartbreak, or someone expecting more than he could ever give. But he was a romantic and did see how Mario wooed the ladies.

“Well, seeing as they reacted the same way you did when you waved at them, something tells me that you might have a chance with them,” said Luigi.

“Really?” asked the guard, “Do you think that��s possible.”

“I can’t say for certain,” Luigi told him, “But I have a feeling that you should give it a shot, and if it doesn’t go well, you can blame me.”

“I’ll…keep that in mind,” the koopa straightened him back, “Are you finished?”

“Yup,” Luigi nodded, “Should be right as rain now.”

He turned the knob and just as he predicted, water came out of the head and onto the ground. “Perfect,” said the koopa, “Now that you’ve proven yourself, I suppose you-”

“What is the prisoner doing out of his cell?!” a loud voice rumbled throughout the ground, spooking the guard and Luigi.

“King Bowser!” the guard gasped and bowed as the king towered over him, “Forgive me your highness but I found tools belonging to the prisoner and found an opportunity to fix the showers. Forgive me my king, I should’ve informed you first, but my enthusiasm got the better of me.”

Bowser looked to the guard and then to Luigi. The man gulped, the king’s stare piercing right through him and making him sweat that he doubted was from the heat.

The king grumbled under his breath before turning to the guard. “You’re dismissed,” said Bowser, “But if you don’t inform me next time then there will be consequences, do I make myself clear?”

“Of course, your highness,” the guard agreed, “Shall I take the prisoner back to his cell?”

“No,” the king replied without hesitation, “I want to speak to him myself.”

Luigi felt like he was going to vomit, while he was glad the koopa didn’t get into trouble, he was definitely more worried about what was so important to the king that he wanted to speak alone with him.

The guard hurried out the room, giving Luigi one more glance before disappearing.

The king stared at Luigi, who in return tried to hold his gaze. While the king still looked abnormal to the plumber, there was something else to him that Luigi couldn’t explain, something that gave him a sense of warmth despite how startled he felt at the moment.

“So,” the king finally spoke, making Luigi jump, “You managed to fix the pipes,”

“Y-yes,” damn his stutter, “Y-your g-guard just w-wanted it f-fixed.”

“I see,” the king mused, looking at the pipes, “What else can you do?”

Oh, no one else asked Luigi that before, expect for Mario. All anyone really expected from him was plumbing or as a gateway to his brother, but that was fine, it was like Luigi had anything of value to offer like his brother, he wasn’t brave or outgoing or-

“Are you going to make me wait all day?” Bowser growled.

Luigi nearly jumped three feet into the air, “O-of course not! I-I-I-…. I can bake!”

“…you can bake?” the king raised an eyebrow.

Honestly, that was the first thing Luigi can think of. He felt embarrassed it out loud now, Mario always told him about how much he loved Luigi’s baking, but it never meant everyone else did, especially terrifying royalty.

“I see,” Bowser hummed as a smile curved on his lips, however it wasn’t full of malice or cruelty, more like amusement or curiosity. “Follow me,”

Since the king bigger than Luigi, really big, his steps were much larger, so Luigi had to run in order to keep up with him. It seemed that the king had noticed this however and stopped abruptly, making Luigi skid to a stop and slamming into the king’s leg. Now it was his turn to turn red as the king looked down at him. Luigi thought that he was going to be eaten until Bowser scooped him up and carried him with one arm. If it wasn’t for the situation at hand, this was almost quite nice, he kind of missed being held.

They had passed a dining hall with a long table with a massive chair at the end, presumably for Bowser, and the king led Luigi into a kitchen. He gently placed Luigi into the floor as Luigi looked around. “Since you proven that you can be useful, you can bake for myself and the other inhabitants in this castle,” Bowser announced.

“R-really?” Luigi asked, someone actually wanted him to bake?

Your baking is amazing weegee, you need to let others see that!

No, no! Spike’s right, it’s dumb. Besides, they’re not even that good anyway.

“Make something while I’m gone and I’ll try it when I’m back,” said Bowser, “Just to make sure it’s edible.”

“O-oh,” Luigi fidgeted with his hands a little bit, “S-sure.”

The king huffed and turned to go out the door but stopped and turned to Luigi one more time, “Make sure you don’t burn the place down Greenie.”

As soon as he left and Luigi was left alone, all he could do was think about what he could possibly make. What would the king even like? Chocolate cake, apple pie, cookies? Luigi rubbed a hand down his face, he had to focus, maybe he could start somewhere simple. In the end he gathered up the ingredients and assembled a fluffy vanilla sponge cake, complete with a delicious buttercream frosting.

The king came back into the kitchen as Luigi finished piping the frosting. “Looks nice,” he murmured.

“Oh, you think?”

“First we need to make sure it tastes good as well,” said Bowser, grabbing a knife and cut a slice for himself and lifted it onto a plate.

Luigi held his breath as the king took a bite. Bowser paused mid-bite, his eyes widening. Oh no, he hated it, Mario was wrong he was a terrible baker, he should’ve listened to Spike and now he was going to be roasted alive and never see his brother again, all because he baked a stupid cake!

“This is amazing,” Bowser finally replied.

“W-what?” Luigi needed to hear that again, did the koopa king like his cake?

“This is the best thing I ever tasted!” The king beamed, taking another bite, “Its incredible, how did you learn to bake this this?!”

Luigi couldn’t believe it, someone liked…no…loved his baking. No one ever wanted to try his baking before, Spike had always told his that he shouldn’t bother with something so ‘mundane’ but yet here he was, standing in front of someone loved his simple dish. “Thank you,” Luigi whispered.

Bowser looked at him again, as Luigi’s eyes filled with so much joy and happiness that even he started to feel a bit affected by it. Bowser cleared his throat, “Since you’ll be helping out a bit more often there no point in sending you back to the dungeon. I’ll tell Kamek to set up your living quarters, while you wait the kitchen is free for you to use.”

Bowser turned and walked out the kitchen, cake in hand, leaving Luigi alone. Well, not fully alone, another guard was stationed outside the kitchen. Luigi didn’t focus on that though, instead he ran on the spot and squealed excitedly, what else could he make!? Oh, maybe he could make snickerdoodle cookies, Mario always…Mario. Was he betraying his brother by doing this for someone who wanted to destroy him? He was being stupid again, his brother was being hunted down by the king and all Luigi could focus on was making pretty cakes for that king, so fucking stupid!

Luigi sighed, getting out the ingredients anyway, he didn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side, but he also didn’t want to betray Mario. Snickerdoodle it is, after all, no one here would know…right?

.........

Crack!

Boom!

“Mama!”

Crack!

“She didn’t deserve to die that night! It should’ve been you! Why wasn’t it you?!”

Luigi awoke with a cold sweat, another nightmare. He still had nightmares of that night when his parents died, but now his uncle had made his way into them as well. He could still remember the kicks, the punches, but most of all, he could never forget what he said the day when he finally left him.

His heart began beating faster as another ripple of sweat rolled down his face. He started panting heavier and heavier. He deserved to feel like this, he should’ve died that night, he was supposed to die that night, he wished he died that night, why didn’t he die that night?!

He was so wrapped up in his mind that he didn’t notice that light flicking on and a hand gripping his as another rubbed his back. “Breathe,” an old yet wise voice told him. Luigi found himself squeezing the hand and he looked around the room, eyes finally landing on a koopa with a blue robe and glasses. That was the one that did the magic on him, when he first met Bowser.

“Breathe,” he told Luigi again, “In for one, two three for and out, two, three, four.”

Luigi tried to repeat the breathing as best he could, even when he fumbled a little bit the koopa was incredibly patient and soothed him while they continued the breathing. Luigi felt his breathing become steadier, the koopa gently placed a glass of water into his hands, still rubbing his back as Luigi gulped down the water. He placed the glass on the dresser next to his bed as he rubbed sleep away from his eyes.

“How did you know I was having a panic attack?” Luigi asked.

“My job is to make sure that everyone in the castle is taken care of,” the koopa explained, “Including prisoners.”

Luigi slowly nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry dear boy,” the koopa explained, “Perhaps its better if I introduced myself, I am Kamek, and you are Luigi, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Luigi blinked.

Kamek hummed, “If you’re comfortable, would you mind telling me what triggered this panic attack?”

“Just a dumb nightmare,” Luigi mumbled.

“Dumb or not if it made you react this way then there is something worth discussing,” said Kamek, “And even if it isn’t worth it, I do believe a discussion may help relieve some of the tension that’s there.”

“W-well,” Luigi looked to his sheets, back to Kamek and back down again, “I was having a nightmare about the night my parents died and…how my uncle told me that I should’ve died instead of my mom.”

Kamek’s face fell slightly “Oh.”

“But it’s fine, I have nightmares all the time and this happens a lot, I’m used to it,” Luigi tried to plaster a fake smile, but it doesn’t seem to fool the old koopa.

“I don’t think this is something you should be used to dear boy,” Kamek said, “Whoever informed you that this is something you should normalise is frankly very wrong.”

“I appreciate the concern but really, I’m fine!” Luigi’s smile was beginning to falter, “I’m fine, it’s fine, I’m fine…I…”

Tears rolled down his cheeks as his fake grin finally faltered. He bit his lip, trying to stifle his sniffles, but when Kamek wrapped his arms around him - in a familiar familial like that Mario would do for him – a loud cry tore from his throat as Kamek gently rocked him, shushing him as sobs wracked the small man’s body.

As his cries calmed down to whimpers, Luigi could fell sleep creep up on him again. Kamek laid the man back down onto his pillows and used the sleeves oh his robe to wipe away the remaining tears. With a wave of his wand, he refilled the glass of water on Luigi’s bedside and quietly made his way of the room.

When he shut the door with the upmost gentleness, he was met face to face with Bowser. “What happened?” the king queried softly, Kamek swore he heard concern with laced with his tone.

“A nightmare, although unfortunately for him, it seemed to be the ones where he's forced to relive the most tragic memories,” Kamek explained, his heart sinking a little as he recalled how Luigi stared up at him, like a frightened child.

“I see,” Bowser pondered, “He did seem a bit more nervous that the other prisoners.”

“You would be a fool not to notice,” Kamek nodded, “I fear that this poor boy might’ve been hurt in his past. Really, really hurt.”

Bowser’s eyes suddenly hardened, the only other family member that he knew that the man had was his brother, if was the one who did this to him-

“I can tell where your mind is,” Kamek spoke up, “Don’t go rushing into assumptions, from what our spies have told us I have a feeling that his brother isn’t behind that boy’s fears. I understand that you want to win this war, but I heavily suggest that you don’t do it at that boy’s expense. From what I’ve seen, he’s gone through enough.”

“What! Of course not!” Bowser bellowed, “Of course I want to win but I’m not sick enough to ever do that do someone!”

“Good,” Kamek nodded and smiled at his surrogate son, “And I hope you stick by that.” With that, Kamek made his way down the hall, leaving Bowser alone.

A million thoughts were rushing through the king’s head. What happened to the green man that made him react to a nightmare like that? Who was the one who made him react like that? His brother better hope he wasn’t the one who did, otherwise taking him down would be more deadly than he intended. Wait a minute, why was he thinking about the plumber this way? Sure, he felt bad for him but surely not to this extent, right? However, as he imagined those eyes, how they nearly filled with tears after he complimented his cake, and the excited squeals he heard once he left the kitchen, no one ever really gave that to him before, didn’t they? He knew that from this moment on that no one else was going to take that happiness away from the plumber ever again. He would make sure of it.

.........

Luigi awoke the next morning, feeling completely drained from the night before. It was to be expected though, it happened every time when he had nightmares. He stretched and swung his feet over the side of the bed and tucked his feet into the slippers on the floor. He felt quite flattered that Kamek had went out of his way to make him pyjamas and footwear his size, even though it was mostly done with magic, he still felt flattered.

There was a knock at the door and the koopa guard that guided him to the shower rooms the other day entered the room. “King Bowser requests your presence for breakfast,” said the guard.

“Oh, did he say why?” Luigi asked, curious as to why the king wanted a prisoner to join him.

“He only informed me to take you to breakfast,” the koopa replied, “Please follow me.”

The koopa turned and walked out, Luigi following behind. The walk so far was silent, both not really knowing what to say since the king found out that the guard disobeyed him, he just hoped that Bowser wasn’t too hard on the koopa afterwards.

“S-so,” The koopa finally spoke up, “I took your advice the other day and…we both plan on sitting with each other during lunch later.”

“Really?!” a massive grin broke onto Luigi’s face, “That’s amazing!”

“I just, well, I wanted to thank you,” the koopa nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would’ve been brave enough to ask them.”

Luigi’s steps faltered slightly before keeping back up with the guard again. He didn’t really think that his advice would help someone, all he wanted was to help someone with their own romantic plights but for someone to be happy with his help, it was a new feeling to experience on its own. “You’re welcome,” Luigi smiled, “If it’s alright, would you like to tell me your name?”

The koopa turned to him, looking up and down before finally answering, “Sam…my name is Sam.”

“It’s nice to mee you Sam,” Luigi replied, “I’m Luigi, oh wait, you already knew that.”

“Yeah, I did…we’ve arrived,” Sam stated, the two finally stopping at the dining hall. Sam opened the door for Luigi, where King Bowser and a smaller version of him were waiting, seated at the top of the table. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

“Thank you,” Luigi nodded, “Oh and one more thing!”

The koopa looked back one more time.

“Good luck with lunch later!” Luigi gave him a thumbs up.

Sam smiled a little bit, before shutting the door, leaving Luigi with the king and the small koopa that looked remarkably similar to the larger koopa. He was going to take a set at the opposite end of the table, away from the two, when the king suddenly said, “No, no, you’ll be eating beside me.”

Sit beside him? Why? Was this another interrogation? Did he want Luigi closer to him in order to scare him enough to get the information that he needed on Mario? Or maybe Kamek told him about the nightmare he had last night and wanted to punish him for it?! Great, his nightmares managed to upset the king and now he was going to get angry for him, why can’t he just deal with his nightmares like a normal person!

“Hey, Greenie, can you hear me?” Bowser’s voice broke him out of his internal rambling, “You’re gonna be sitting next to me and Junior.”

“J-Junior?” Luigi said aloud, was that the name of the smaller koopa?

“My son,” Bowser said proudly, ruffling the hair on top of the young boy’s head, “Hurry up, you’re gonna like what we have in store for you.”

Luigi nervously made his way up to the chair beside Bowser, across from Junior. Maybe it would be alright? Surely, he wouldn’t do anything brash in front of his child? As soon as he sat down the king pushed in his seat with ease, Luigi nearly blushed at the sudden closeness.

“I hope you’re hungry, cause I’ll bet that you’ve never had anything like this before!” Bowser boasted and a crowd of goombas wearing little chef hats poured into the room, while balancing trays on top of their heads before setting them down on the table.  Luigi’s mouth watered when they lifted the lids off, revealing many kinds of different breakfast foods. From pancakes to waffles, pouched to fried eggs and bacon to the many colours of fruits. There was more trays but the hunger that Luigi felt was starting to overpower him.

“Alright! I’m starving!” the young koopa cheered when the goombas left, immediately scooping up a portion of food from each tray and piling it onto his plate.

“Oh Junior, careful!” Bowser chuckled as his son started to make a mess with the butters and jams, he put on his meal, “I apologise, we were waiting for you to arrive before we could eat.”

Luigi paused for a moment and looked up towards the king, “Waiting for me? Why?”

“Well, Kamek told me about how you had trouble sleeping last night,” Bowser began to explain, sheepishly looking down at his plate, “And while I do want information about your brother, I don’t want you to feel like how you were that night. I’m not that much of a monster. So, I hoped that having breakfast with us could help you out a little bit.”

“You did this…for me?” Luigi’s heart fluttered a bit.

Bowser blushed, the little man was making those eyes again, those beautiful mesmerising eyes. He cleared his throat and smirked, leaning on his arm and he moved a bit closer to the plumber, “Yeah, why? Is it not enough for you little man?”

Luigi’s face had turned into the exact shade of a ripe tomato, covering in with his hands as he sank into his chair. “No, no its fantastic and I’m really glad that you had me in my mind while planning this!” he muffled into his hands.

“Your friend is strange Papa,” Junior stated, munching on some pancakes.

“Junior-”

“It’s fine,” Luigi uncovered his face, the heat slowly leaving his cheeks, “Yeah, I get that sometimes.”

“Oh…are you the red guy’s brother?” Junior asked, “Papa is planning on fighting him soon,”

Bowser froze. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have Junior here, but he didn’t want his son to feel excluded from eating with him, he hardly spent enough time with him due to the war with the mushroom kingdom.

Luigi sighed, not at the boy’s question, but rather at the acknowledgement that yes, he was here for one reason and one reason only, knowledge about his brother. “Yes, I am,” Luigi nodded.

Junior seemed to have realised the error in his words, looking down at his food with guilt, “Sorry, sometimes I’m not that great with my words.”

“That’s okay,” Luigi gave the boy a reassuring smile, “I’m not good with my words either. In fact, when I was a kid, I had a really bad stutter whenever I spoke.”

“You did?” The kid looked up at him.

“Yeah, I still get it sometimes when I’m nervous but not as much as I did back then,” Luigi admitted, “But you’re pretty brave about speaking your mind, that’s something that I still struggle to do.”

“You think?!” Junior marvelled at the man’s words, his little tail wagging behind him.

“Yeah!” Luigi grinned back.

Bowser smiled at the two, it was nice that Junior was able to make a companion during all of this. Sometimes Bowser felt guilty about having his son here, instead of keeping him back home with his friends, but he didn’t want to take any risks with Junior’s safety, he never knew who could be lurking. Yet when he saw how Luigi interacted with his child, how he spoke with his son instead of down to him, nothing else filled with chest with the pride that he felt at that moment at seeing how happy the moustached man treated his boy.

“So, you plan on eating soon Greenie?” Bowser joked, interrupting the conversation.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Luigi giggled, taking a waffle and covering it with some powdered sugar before taking a bite, humming at the taste, “This is really good, thank you.”

He was making the eyes again, but this time instead of brushing it away, Bowser returned the soft look with one of his own, “You’re welcome.”

.........

A few days after the breakfast with Bowser and Junior, Luigi had formed his own little routine at the castle. He would wake up, join the king and prince for breakfast (as well as lunch and dinner), do a bit of baking with Sam as his assigned guard, if there was some plumbing to be done then he would immediately take up the job, spend a little bit of time with Junior the two of them played before Bowser joined them, maybe have a bit of quiet time, a stroll with Bowser before getting ready for bed. Though he did have those expected nightmares, Kamek immediately rushed in to help him through it until he was able to fall back to sleep.

However, there was one day when that routine was rudely interrupted. Luigi was just taking some cookies out of the oven as Sam watched, curious as to how Luigi’s delicious treats were made, until another koopa guard burst through the door of the kitchen with a worried look on his face. “The boos have gone rogue!” he shouted, “Take the prisoner and keep him in this room until they’re detained.”

Sam nodded, pushing Luigi in front of him as they made their way to his bedroom. “Wait, what’s going on?” Luigi started to panic.

“Have you ever noticed those ghosts floating round the castle sometimes?” Sam inquired.

Luigi nodded; he remembered those creatures whenever he was being led throughout the castle. He also remembered how they all looked at him with disdain, like dirt on a pair of shoes.

“Well, they only go against us if their king commands it,” Sam told him.

Luigi raised an eyebrow, “But I thought Bowser was their king.”

“Bowser’s just borrowing them, their true leader is King Boo. I’m not sure why he’s doing this, but we need to keep this place on lockdown until we’re able to handle the situation,” Sam responded, finally reaching Luigi’s room and led the man inside, “Wait here until I get back.”

Sam shut the door behind him, leaving Luigi alone. His stomach churned while his hands kept making fists, in order to help calm the rise of anxiety building within him. He was going to lay and try the breathing exercises that Kamek taught him when he heard a scream from outside. Rushing to the window, he saw Junior running from a group of boos, taunting the poor child.

“Look at how pathetic he is!”

“He knows that he’s just an unlovable bastard!”

“It’s a good thing his parents are dead, who would want a miserable sack of shit like this!”

If Luigi was able to recognize anything, it was a bully. He knows the types of targets they go for, small, scared, weak. That was how he always found himself being chased by those who saw those traits in him, and now, those boos could see in the child that they were harassing. He couldn’t stand up for himself back then, but here, now, he could try for Junior.

He knew that the window was locked (he tried to open it before, but it wouldn’t budge) so taking a chair next to a vanity and threw it towards the window. Glass shattered into millions of little pieces, spraying across the floor. Luigi looked over the edge, trying to estimate how to get down. Thinking quickly, he pulled off the curtains and grabbed the bedsheets, tying the together into a makeshift rope and tied one end to the leg of his bed. He grabbed a wrench from his tool bag, sliding it into his overalls and carefully scaled down the hot wall, mindful of the lava pouring next to him.

Finally, he reached the ground, scanning the area until he found the young koopa trying to back away from the boos.

Luigi began running, running faster than he ever did in his life, faster than he did when he ran away from Wario and Waluigi. His only focus was helping that young boy and though he felt nothing but dread every time he saw those boos, Junior’s safety was his top priority.

As soon he reached them, he raised the wrench and slammed it against one of the ghosts, knocking it off balance and sending it flying backwards. Taking the opportunity while he had it, Luigi picked up Junior, placing him on his hip before running away again. He only got a few feet before the boos stopped him in his tracks. Luigi counted four as they circled around him and Junior, his protective grip tightened on the boy as he held his wrench out in front of him. “S-stay back!”

“Aww, look here fellas!” one of the boos jeered, “Little Bowser Junior’s found himself a little bodyguard!”

A second boo cackled, “He looks like someone picked a twig out of the woods!”

Luigi gulped, he would not let those words get to him, not when Junior needed him. “G-go a-away!” he yelled, “I-I’m n-not a-afraid o-of y-you!”

“W-w-what w-was t-that?” The third boo imitated the man’s stutter, “I c-couldn’t h-hear t-that!”

The fourth boo roared with laughter, the other three joining in. Luigi didn’t know if this was confidence or cowardice, but he lifted his wrench again and slammed it against the third boo’s face. “G-get o-out o-of m-my w-way!”

All four boos eyes darkened, creeping closer towards the man and koopa.” You shouldn’t have done that,” the first boo growled.

Luigi placed Junior down behind him, “R-run J-Junior, g-go f-find y-your d-ad!”

“What about you?” Junior wailed, his legs shaking.

Luigi heart panged for the poor boy, “D-don’t w-worry a-about-t m-me, j-just-t r-run!”

Junior glanced to the boos, then back to Luigi and nodded, turning on his heel and running as fast as he could towards the castle. The boos attempted to follow Junior again, but Luigi hit them with his wrench again. “L-leave h-him-m o-out o-of-f t-this!”

“Oh, is that how you wanna play then?” the second boo cooed, sarcasm dripping from its done, “Fine, you’re all ours,”

The next thing he knew, his wrench out slapped out of his hand. His raised his fist in an attempt to defend himself, but the boos knocked him to the ground before a could get a hit in, his head hitting a rock behind him. His head started pounding, and he could feel something warm dripping from his hair.

The boys started their attack, kicking him in the stomach, punching him repeatedly, screaming in his face. It kept going on and on to the point Luigi could feel it all blending together.

Punch

Kick

Crack!

“Mama!”

Punch

Kick

“Papa!”

Crack!

The rubble falling on top of him.

Punch

He couldn’t move.

Kick

Crack!

“Someone like you was born to take a beating.”

Punch

Kick

“Every second of your existence made my life a fucking hell!”

Crack!

“She didn’t deserve to die that night! It should’ve been you! Why wasn’t it you?!”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

A roar pierced through the air, making the boos stop. Luigi couldn’t open his eyes, two swollen from the boos attacks and his ears were ringing a bit. What he did hear were the cries of the boos, loud thuds the something warm, like fire. The cries of the boos stopped, then the thuds were coming towards him, and a warm hand cupped the back of his head.

“Luigi, can you hear me?”

He was getting quite tired.

“Talk to me Luigi, please!”

Surely, he could close his eyes for a bit.

“Luigi, try to focus on me!”

Yeah, just for a bit.

“Luigi!”

.

.

.

Bowser nearly tore up the place when he saw that his son was missing, if anyone was going to touch one hair on his head, he was going to tear them apart. The relief he felt when he saw his son run to him was unlike anything he ever felt before, but panic rose again when he saw his son crying, and when asked all he could manage to say between tears was, “Luigi…boos...help!”

He kept him with Kamek, took a few guard with him and stormed out of the castle. His stomach sank when he saw Luigi, bleeding and helpless to the boos attack.

All he could see was red, he could barely remember what he did to the boos, only that whatever he did made them cower in front of the koopa king.

Once they were taken away, Bowser immediately ran towards the bleeding man, begging for him to hang on as he slipped in unconsciousness, before carrying him back into the castle.

Kamek and Junior gasped when they saw Luigi, Junior had burst into tears again while Kamek waved his wand and transported them into Bowser’s chambers. Kamek had recommended Bowser to take Junior, help him calm down while he focused on healing Luigi. While Bowser was hesitant with leaving him there, he knew Kamek was right, he wouldn’t be able to help Luigi enough if the room as too crowed and Junior desperately needed comfort.

He scooped up his son and walked out the room, sparing one last glance at the injured plumber before Kamek shut the door.

Bowser carried Junior to his room, cradling him and humming lullabies to him until the child had cried himself to sleep. He stayed with him for a few more minutes, then wrapped his blanket around him and tucked him into bed. He quietly closed the door behind him and made his way back to his own chambers.

Once he entered, Luigi was covered in bandages, from his head to his arms and across his chest, his eyes were swollen shut and bruised, his lip split and his chest was heaving heavily with laboured breath. “I did the most I could with my magic,” Kamek informed Bowser, “What he needs now is rest and for his own strength to help heal the rest of him.”

“Thank you Kamek,” Bowser whispered, not wanting to wake Luigi, “I can take it from here.”

“Are you sure?” Kamek asked, “I’m happy to stay and watch him, go get some rest my king.”

“No, its fine,” Bowser told him, “If his brother’s coming for him, it’s my responsibility to keep Greenie here in one piece.”

Kamek hummed, analysing the king for a moment, “Alright, just make sure to inform me if he’s getting worse.”

“Will do Kamek,” Bowser nodded.

When Kamek left the room, Bowser circled round the bed and gently climbed onto the other side, laying down gently next to Luigi and curled his tail around him. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, placing on of his fingers atop of the man’s small hand, “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Bowser took comfort in the fact that the man was still breathing, he listened to the soft breaths and let them lull him to sleep, hopefully in the morning the man’s health would progress a little bit.

.

.

.

Luigi stirred a little bit, his head pounding when he tried to open his eyes and his limbs were screaming in agony. His eyes scanned the room he as in, the small differences within it making him wonder if he wasn’t in his room anymore, it was confirmed when his eyes landed on the king laying next to him, snoring softly. He couldn’t move, not only due to his bruised body but at the fact that he was in the king’s room, sleeping in the king’s bed and was right next to him in close proximity.

He was about to open his mouth to speak when…

Crack!

No…no, no, no, no, no, please don’t let this happen right now!

Boom!

He turned his eyes towards the window and sure enough, there was a storm right outside.

Crack!

Please no, he can’t do this, not right now!

Boom!

He was in the rubble again, he wanted to scream for Mario, Mario, where’s Mario! He wanted to get out, please help him get out, he couldn’t breathe! It hurts, it hurts so much please help!

“Breathe Luigi,”

He felt his upper body being lifted and placed against some pillows in a seated position.

He just wanted to move, to see if his Mama and Papa were okay!

A large hand encased his own, “Breath in two, three, four and out two, three, four.”

Let him breathe! Let him breathe! Let him…

“In two, three, four and out, two, three, four.”

He did was the voice told him, his breathing, while shaking, was trying to copy the voice’s.

“You’re doing great, just keep going,” said the voice again, deep, commanding yet so gentle.

Luigi’s vision came back into focus, a noticed that a lamp was turned on, he was in the king’s room and was still next to Bowser as well. It was still storming outside, he hated storms, he hated thinking about-

Crack!

Luigi yelped, trembling from head to toe.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” the voice murmured softly, stroking the man’s hands, “I’m here, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

He looked up…Bowser. Bowser helped him out of that panic attack, he was being so patient, especially with the one thing that Luigi hated most. Tears welled up in his eyes, how could someone be so kind, so comforting, so-

Boom!

Luigi jumped again, this time, Bowser had wrapped him up into a hug, a safe warm hug. The damns broke and Luigi let out the ugliest sobs he ever made in his life, tears no doubt were staining his face and was making a mess. But the king wasn’t put off by it, instead, he pulled Luigi in tighter.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” the king rocked him, “Give your pain to me, I can handle it.”

Luigi let out another cry at his words, weeping for what seemed to be hours, yet the king never loosened his protective hold, both of them falling asleep in each other’s arms.

.........

Two weeks had passed since then, Bowser had let Luigi heal in his chambers, even after Luigi said that he could go back into his room when his window was replaced (despite not really wanting to internally.) But the king had insisted, saying that he wanted to make up for what happened to him. And so, the king helped him with his meals if his arms were a bit too weak, he listened as Luigi gushed about baking and his other hobbies (he learnt that the plumber also liked to do some gardening in his spare time), he would let Junior see him, the child apologizing profusely and Luigi telling him that he didn’t need to before the two would start coloring together, Bowser watching with fondness, and with everything else the two of them would just talk about anything and fall asleep together cuddled up on the same bed.

Soon, Luigi found the strength to walk again, and Bowser had suggested that the two take a stroll together, to help Luigi get used to his legs again. They were just strolling past the gardens, Luigi letting his fingers graze the flowers and he mumbled about each type that he saw. All of a sudden, he stopped in his tracks, making Bowser worry a bit. Was he still sore? Did he need to rest for a minute?

“I wanted to thank you for all that you did for me,” Luigi nervously gripped his wrist with his left hand, “You’ve treated me with nothing but kindness for these past few days, more than anyone ever did in my entire life.”

“Well, you deserve it,” Bowser grinned, “You’re kind to my people, Junior and Kamek adore you and you’re all around an amazing person. I hope that you can see that yourself one day.”

Luigi blushed, taking a few more steps towards the king and looked up at the king.

He was looking at him with those eyes again, only this time there was something a bit deeper, something that made Bowser’s insides turn into goo. He placed Luigi into his arms, the man gasping a little as he stared at the king. Bowser’s eyes flickered to Luigi’s lips, his eyes, then his lips again. Luigi leaned in with Bowser meeting him halfway as their lips were gently pressed together. Bowser lifted his other hand to cup Luigi’s cheek as their kiss deepened a little bit more.

They pulled away, their hearts beating loudly as they shared a giggle together.

“No one’s ever kissed me like that before,” Luigi admitted.

“Their loss,” Bowser tucked a brown lock of hair out of Luigi’s face, “They have no idea what they’re missing.”

Luigi squirmed slightly, making Bowser chuckled as he leaned in for another kiss. Luigi was about to do the same when a moment of clarity hit him and pressed his fingers against Bowser’s lips. “Wait!”

Bowser froze, his eyes inspecting Luigi for any damage, “What happened, are you okay?!”

“I’m fine it’s just…” Luigi sighed, fidgeting with his fingers, “You still want to rule the world, don’t you?”

Realisation dawned on Bowser, letting out a sad grumble as he looked away from Luigi, “Yes.”

“And you’re still after my brother, aren’t you?” Luigi asked.

Bowser nodded numbly as he placed Luigi onto the ground.

“I wish we could have this,” Luigi reassured him, “I wish that we could hold each other, bake together, have fun with Junior, sleep in the same bed, share kisses…love each other. But if there’s one thing I can’t do, it’s betray Mario. Ever since I’ve been here, you and everyone else here have been helping me realise that I have more worth than I could ever possibly think that I would have. But although I’m starting to see it now, Mario was the first one who truly saw me for me, I just never fully believed him until now. So as much as I want this, I am never, ever going against my brother, I can’t do that…I’m sorry.”

Bowser let his head drop, of course it wasn’t going to be that simple, but it wasn’t Luigi’s fault, it would never be Luigi’s fault. He suddenly found himself wishing that he didn’t start this war, he wished that he didn’t desire the stars to complete his mission, he wished that he met Luigi within another context that didn’t force him to choose.

Bowser didn’t want to become someone else that was going to hurt Luigi…and he wouldn’t. “I’m going to have my guards drop you near the borders of the mushroom kingdom. Mario will be there.”

“W-what?” Luigi gasped, his head snapping up, the force of it making it ache a little bit.

“I shouldn’t have kept you hear longer than I did,” Bowser admitted, “I won’t make you choose between your brother or me, and I certainly won’t keep you here against your own will. I want you to love me, selflessly and unconditionally, without feeling guilty for it, and I know you can’t do it like this. Sam will take you to the border, tell one of the residents of the kingdom that you’re a brother of Mario, surely, they’ll take you to him.”

Luigi’s breath hitched…he was free, he was going to see Mario again, he…he was going to leave Bowser. He felt conflicted, he loved Bowser, but he also knew he was right, if they wanted to love each other, it couldn’t be like this. “And you won’t follow me?”

“I don’t plan on breaking your trust any time soon,” Bowser told him, taking Luigi’s hand into his own, “You deserve to put your faith into someone without them tearing it apart, I won’t do that to you, not now, not ever.” He kissed the top of Luigi’s hand and pressed his forehead against his.

“I will never forget you,” said Luigi.

“Neither will I,” Bowser agreed. They stayed like that for a few more second before pulling away.

They held hands as Bowser led him into the throne room, Sam waiting with some more guards. Bowser gave the koopa his instructions, the guard seeming dazzled for a moment before saluting his king. A bag with essentials for his journey was then given to Luigi from Kamek, as well as a drawing from Junior that featured the child, Luigi and Bowser, with messing handwriting at the bottom of the page saying.

‘My Family’

Luigi let a tear slip from his eye, wiping it away and he gave everyone a final goodbye, sharing one more glance with Bowser before making his way with Sam for his journey to the mushroom kingdom.

As soon as the heard the castle doors slam shut, Bowser turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to prevent tears from leaking out. He felt Kamek’s hand on his arm and looked down at him.

“For what it’s worth your majesty,” he started, “I have never been more proud of you in this moment.”

Bowser smiled and looked back to where Luigi once stood. Maybe one day, once this battle was over, he could see him again. He didn’t care if he would win or lose, as long as he got to see those eyes again, that mattered to him more than anything.

[blackbird0blog]

Naruto Fanfic Recs

I'm not normally a fan of Sasuke fics, but this is the best Sasuke-centric story ever written. It's got an epic plot and Sasuke has gotten over his angst phase, which always helps. Also known as Sasuke and Tobi vs Akatsuki. You know it's gonna be an epic disaster 🤣

Summary: Following the events of Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke never makes it to Orochimaru's hideout. Instead, he is waylaid by a one-eyed man named Tobi, a man possessing a Sharingan, a terrifying dual personality, a penchant for always being late, and a single-minded mission to stop the Akatsuki in their tracks. When Sasuke runs into Naruto again years later, he must ally with his old teammate in order to protect him from the Akatsuki, while keeping him out of the two man war Tobi and Sasuke have started against the dangerous organization.

Preview:

“Uchiha Sasuke was sighted doing what now!?” Sasuke does not screech. He doesn’t. But if his voice is just a bit higher pitched than usual, well, it is understandable.

Tobi’s looking over his shoulder the next moment, humming annoyingly as he quotes the report “‘raiding a feudal lord’s castle, bearing the flag of Otogakure, demanding a protection payment in the name of Orochimaru’.” Tobi pauses briefly, scanning further down the paper as if he hadn’t seen it yet. “ Oh , it looks like you burnt down the guy’s castle. I like it, Sasuke-chan. Nothing could scream Uchiha more than fireballs.”

Sasuke sputters. “I didn’t do this! I’ve been stuck in the forest with you for four months.”

Tobi taps the report, sounding frustratingly sincere in his skepticism. “But Sasuke-chan, this says you’re Orochimaru-sama’s errand boy now.”

“They’re idiots then. Someone starts throwing fire around and they just assume it’s me?”

“Well, fire is quite the Uchiha trait. As far as Konoha is aware, Orochimaru is in possession of an Uchiha, and there’s not a very large pool of them anymore. They’re connecting dots at this point.”

Sasuke grumbles. “Well, they’re doing it wrong.”

“Oooh, Sasuke-chan’s upset,” Tobi calls out in a singsong voice.

“ Stop calling me that! ” Sasuke snaps, a kunai flying towards Tobi before he even registers it leaving his hand.

Tobi screeches, throwing himself dramatically to the side to avoid the kunai and landing on his ass. The kunai lodges into a nearby stall, and Tobi spends several long seconds staring at it before turning his head slowly towards Sasuke. Sasuke takes a step back, unable to read the expression hidden in the man’s eye, and lets his hand drift down to hover over his kunai pouch.

“That was a very half-assed attempt,” Tobi says finally, sounding slightly surprised. “Usually there’s at least a fireball or Chidori in there somewhere.”

Sasuke blinks and, bit by bit, allows himself to relax. “I guess it’s just habit at this point.”

Tobi laughs, far too breathy to be classified under his regular giggle. “I’m touched.” He stands, dusting himself off with far more attention than is truly necessary. “Anyway, the point is, as far as the world is concerned, Uchiha Sasuke is currently lackey number one for Orochimaru.”

Frowning, Sasuke stares down at the scroll still held tightly in his hand. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”

Tobi doesn’t reply, so Sasuke looks up to try and read him.

“You said the only way this works is with anonymity. That we can’t afford to have villages sticking their noses where they don’t belong.” Sasuke gestures at the scroll, his gut heavy with something he doesn’t want to acknowledge as dread. “This is the exact opposite of anonymity.”

Tobi is watching him, his eye fixed on Sasuke’s every movement as if he is staring into Sasuke’s soul. He doesn’t reply immediately, doesn’t move beyond the brief flickers of his Sharingan analyzing Sasuke’s every twitch.

Whatever he sees, it must be good enough.

“No, Sasuke,” Tobi says, his voice a serious baritone rather than the high-pitched insanity he pitches whenever they’re in public. “This is anonymity at its finest.” He turns, heads towards the edge of town, pointed east. Over his shoulder, he tosses out, “After all, if they’re expecting you to be burning down villages, they won’t be looking for you to be hunting missing-nin.”

Sasuke, stunned for a brief moment, has to trot to catch up, falling into step with the man before belatedly shoving his hands into his pockets in an attempt to appear less eager.

Making sure to pitch his voice as disinterested as possible, Sasuke asks, “Where are we going then?”

Though he can’t see it, Sasuke is convinced that Tobi is wearing a shark’s grin under his mask. “Ever wanted to be ANBU, Sasuke-chan?”

Confused, Sasuke doesn’t reply.

The lack of a reply doesn’t throw Tobi off for a single moment. He throws his hands in the air, waving ecstatically. “We should get Orochimaru-sama flowers for being such a great help, ne, Sasuke-chan?”

A hand settles on Sasuke’s head, and he barely manages to restrain a flinch. “Don’t worry, kid.” Something dark seems to settle over him, and with the dry air of dark humor that Sasuke is learning is an integral part to him, Tobi adds casually, “After all, the only cover better than this is being dead.”

[dreamcrow]

This is slightly more than 500 words but there was an Attempt;

Before she can say anything, though, he's already walking over, setting his stuff down lightly on the counter. Then, he reaches for a pocket—she thinks it's a pocket, anyway; his hand moves too quick to see exactly where—before producing a pristine, ice-blue, very new iPhone.

She is, suddenly, stupidly conscious of her ancient little dinged-up Moto. She definitely doesn't scoot it away behind the register, wtf. If Little Mx. Hipster-Possibly-Kidnapper has something to say about it, he can say it to her face.

But after just a few seconds rifling around in his messages—he only turns the phone around to her.

Most of the screen is taken up by a photo. A selfie, showing a tall punk-type boy—oh, definitely cute—standing behind a girl, teeny-tiny, who's gleefully taking the picture in front of what looks like a bathroom mirror. These two are definitely festival crowd; she knows the rennfaire type, she is the rennfaire type, she's pretty sure she's seen that exact green hair/deer makeup/fairycore combo in Phoenix last year. She realizes, with a pang: oh, no, these kids actually look kind of cool.

There's a message attached. The guy wants her to read it, evidently, scrolling down for her after letting the photo sink in. It immediately makes her feel roughly eight thousand years old; it's spelled so haphazardly, chock full of dumb fancy alternate characters that aren't even ~aesthetique.~ She half has to sound it out to make any sense of it.

There, your proof. Nari ſays to tell you ſhe's a Legende at babysittinge, actually, & also to ſtop worryinge; because we are fine, thou greate nuiſance (her wordes, not myne).

She ſends also this meſsage, that I'm pretty sure can't be put in letters, but whiche after manye obſcenities (also hers, honeſt) ſeems to ſound roughly like—

The messages continue on for some time like this—mildly irritated, definitely written by a teenager (seriously, who spells that badly on purpose?), way too personal for her to want to keep reading. But she has to admit: they don't seem entirely antagonistic.

Something still nags at her. Wanting first to protect the girl, and her weirdly familiar-looking kid chaperone. But...

Jasmine thinks back, suddenly, to when she was eighteen. To when she'd made it all the way to Bakersfield, sniffling and red-eyed and panicked but still, somehow, scraping together the bus fare, foolish gay heart stuck like a fishbone in her throat. Her mom had kept texting all through the night, no matter how hard Jasmine had ignored her, terrified at the imagined contents of all those unread messages.

She remembers, too, when her mom finally caught up to her. How good it had felt, when she'd finally let herself crumple into those strong brown arms.

Oh, she thinks. Oh, God dammit.

She takes a deep breath. "Alright," she huffs. More to herself than to him. "I—okay. Alright. Whatever. Say I believe you." She tries to make her voice stern, as if her decision hasn't already been made. "What makes you think they passed this way?"

(On an unrelated note: it is so nice to have text formatting options in asks now!)

ikr!! what a time to be alive 😂 and ooo, what a juicy snippet to start us off. and from a fic i never expected to become so fond of!

the entire premise of a sip from the devil's cup is "how can i make the stupidest concept imaginable (dread ancient ice jerkass unconsciously grooving to britney spears in a 7-eleven) actually kind of tender," so it gave me quite a lot of room to play with character and detail (two of my favorite things). the first of these, at least to me, is why does skrael have an iphone? well: the easy answer is that he can't get annoying texts from douxie without one, and my priorities are impeccable. 😂

the slightly more complicated answer is: phones are a really powerful signifier. of course he has an iphone, because he's not paying for it and these are the species of device most loudly touted as The Best. of course he has a blue one, because it's got to Match. (would bellroc have a red one? ah...) once he's had it for more than a few months, you bet your ass he's going to have a perfectly normal number of phone charms. he keeps it in hammerspace because that's where he keeps all of the little things he needs to hand, or at least all the things that don't fit on the little chatelaine i imagine him with; he's trying to pretend to be a normie in this obviously human store, but not, like, very hard, so even though the magic isn't ostentatious he definitely still uses just straight-up magic to bring it out. jasmine can't quite see it clearly for what it is because she doesn't quite realize, yet, that such magic exists, let alone right under her nose. ╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

a lot of the fun i had writing jasmine, tbh, comes from being on the cusp of—but not yet slipping over into—that realization. it's very close to the fun i have writing barbara, tbh. she's—i actually had a lot of trouble trying to hold myself back from inventing jasmine's backstory, as you can see from the bit about her being a gay teen runaway! this aspect of her in particular resonates very strongly i think with some advice you gave me once about foils and complements. but again, also: so, so much of what i love about characters like this is looking at how reasonable, average people react to…decidedly un-average circumstances! even before jasmine catches True Sight in the mirror, she can tell something is up. but even if the guy is weird…she can tell, too, he's trying not to cause too much trouble. and then the incomprehensible ancient divine/monster meets the everyman modern mundane/human in the middle and alchemy happens.

…or something like that, anyway. 😂 there's also a lot to be said about humanizing the divine/monster in this—of course jasmine feels how he misses nari, how soft he is about bellroc, all of that after he unequivocally burnt down the apple store, god—but also about making the mundane exceptional? jasmine knows she's taking a risk by helping this stranger. she works among The Public, in a very specific field! but at the same time, she remembers what it was to have run from her own family. while she knows it's not the same for everyone who does so—i think i did a decent job showing her hesitation, here—she chooses to believe the best of this very strange and frankly offputting person she's never met before. one of my absolute favorite brands.

(there's probably a whole separate commentary track for whatever's happening with douxie and nari here, but unless someone's curious, i'll just say: i had a TOTALLY NORMAL amount of fun figuring out where all those long esses should go. 😏)

[deanwritings]

Do you have any advice for anyone trying to write? I’ve got 90% of my first Dean fic written and I’m just struggling to finish and edit. I’m also terrified of posting it in case it’s terrible 🙈 thank you! Love your writing!

I absolutely do!

I personally think the best thing any writer can do is read. Read a lot of different writers and genres to get a feel for how others write, how they tell stories, how they describe characters. Think of it as studying writing. That will help you get an idea of what styles you like and how you may want to write. When reading, underline what strikes a chord with you and ask yourself why. Why did you like that particular line so much? Did it make you feel something? Did it explain something ordinary in a way you haven't seen or thought of before?

You may enjoy very descriptive stories i.e. Tolkin who likes to paint a very specific scenes, down to the blade of grass a character walks by. You may enjoy dialogue-heavy storylines, letting the characters do the work for you and letting the readers fill in the blanks with their imaginations.

Whatever style you chose or create, a big principle I believe in is "show, don't tell."

Show the readers how he/she/they felt. Don't tell them.

I.e. "He stood there, pissed off at her." vs "His shoulders were squared off, his jaw tight as he stared down at her. The lump is in throat keeping his harsh words at bay. For the moment."

It also helps builds your character out. Anyone can be angry, but how does your character show anger? Are they a shouting hot-head? Do they stew quietly? These are the little traits that help create your character and give readers a better idea of who they are.

I also HIGHLY recommend reading Stephen King's On Writing. It's a memoir/guide to writing. The writing advice is very helpful, and the memoir is SO beautifully written.

Also, always edit! Almost every single writer will tell you the first draft is NEVER the final draft. When I write, I like to let a story sit for a day or two and come back to it with fresh eyes. When I come back, 1) I find typos and 2) I usually end up building the story out more than what I originally had.

And don't be scared! Everyone starts somewhere! I took a break from writing for 5 years and was very nervous to come back and finish Night Falls because reading it back 5 years later, I couldn't believe I was the one who had written it and was worried I was going to butcher the story since my writing skills hadn't been used in so long. It's true what they say, "Practice makes perfect." The more you write, the better you get. But you have to start. A great example of this is artists who show how they drew age 17 vs age 25. Writing is the exact same. Over time, you will hone the skill, but you have to start to get better.

Hope this helps and happy writing!

[setsumushou]

Well, I like to be able to tell these stories now. As I've said, if I mention anyone by name, it will only be good things about them, and hey, I have great things to say about the people I used to know. They were very fun to be around, and I'm sad that I will never have that again, so I like to reminisce on the days long lost.

So I used to be super obnoxiously and openly anti-bottom!Bradley (because my fucked brain construed any top!Mav = sexual predator!Mav; and Mav was my favorite character, so I was like, waaaaaahhhhh, I don't want my favorite character to be a sexual predator, but you know - whatever - live your sexual predator truth now, Maverick, I have written it, and I support it). I was so stupid that it got to the point that I was scared of Lake's and Brenda's fics, and they write the most normal, innocuous versions of it. (I was terrified of Lake's thigh-fucking fic - that was how goddamn dumb I was.) I legitimately believed that any time a Tom Cruise character's penis went near a Miles Teller character's butthole, he was being a sexual predator. I was stupid as hell. And now that I spell it out, I think that could have very well been construed as anti behavior, so I see how they feel that way about me.

But innately, I still had some sort of self-awareness, so I would feel bad about being annoying and draw these "penance Bradley" pics (ie: little dick!Bradley, bottom!Bradley). Ngl, I think that was just my excuse to draw them, lol. I've always been fascinated with it (but in deep denial), and I don't think I've ever felt the need to draw the type of thing that I already see done 100x over by other people. I like fulfilling a niche! But of course I loved doing it because of nice comments I would get from my (former) friends.

I'm sad I won't ever be able to see it again, but Fopps freaking out over my little dick!Bradley pic was one of my favorite memories, lol. She was a great cheerleader. I know she probably thinks I dislike her because our kinks are basically the exact opposite (even in regards to bottom!Bradley, lol - man, I knew it was going to be like this), but no - I still think she was funny and entertaining as hell to be around. I just used to be boring and hand-wringy as shit. I'm sad that now that I'm actually a fun person, I don't get to be around (a lot) of fun people again, but that's my fault for being a complete dingus.

But I like to fondly recall these things before I forget them. I just don't want to pretend that eight months of my life didn't happen, and I am not going to. This will be my sad little Roosmav memorial, and it's rather cathartic being able to write these things out, finally, as opposed to huddling away in fear like I did this entire year. I want to be open about my mistakes, and I also want to be open about all of me and what I had lived through.

[nevermeyers]

For the writing ask : 7, 10, 15, 27 and 40 ?

Have a lovely day 💖

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

There are several things that are my deepest joy about this. The first is being able to create entire worlds and characters that feel real in my head. It's a skill that will never cease to amaze me. The human being is impressive, right?

The second is to be able to express what I feel through narrative. Even if it's not about myself and I write about other characters, they all carry a part of me, my feelings and insecurities, my fears. Seeing the final result of what I write also makes me very happy :')

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

My own writing has scared me in a strange way. I've been doing it since I was a kid and it got to the point where I could easily write twenty pages a day without a problem. I have too big an imagination and the feeling of being disconnected and living my stories more than I live my life scares me . Yet at the same time, I wouldn't know what I would do without it, because I really like being able to unplug like that whenever I want. The hard part is coming back to reality :') I don't know if I explained myself well.

I remember something specific. I remember coming back from school every day by bus. The journey took between half an hour and forty minutes, depending on traffic. I used to put myself in the same place and ignore everything to get into a story in my head while listening to some music. I didn't close my eyes, but I could disconnect from my surroundings. And it was not only images that formed in my head, but also narrated it 🐝

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

NO NO NO NO 😭 Books are sacred to me. I'm the type of person that if there was a fire I would grab all my books. They're like my children. I even usually wash my hands before reading because I'm terrified of somehow getting them dirty. All my books are perfectly neat and clean, with no things in the margins, no stains.

Yes, I judge people who do that. It's unavoidable sorry :')

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

I won't say that writing them stresses me out, but I would be anxious to be with them if they were real people.

The first is Ran from Ephemere, who has a big problem with internalized homophobia and often treats his boyfriend badly almost without realizing it. It's infuriating, especially for his partner, to see how he thinks it's even normal to say that gay people are promiscuous by nature, or that being gay isn't normal. This Ran hates himself deeply and, despite the fact that he finds the strength to try to change, he is unable to leave behind all those thoughts that his family has transmitted to him.

The second one is from a fic that I haven't published yet. It's from a Drakenui in which Seishu has an ED that he has dragged through without going to therapy since his childhood. He's a boy obsessed with the idea of ​​perfection, as he has grown up watching his sister Akane (who also had an ED) trying to please boys by being perfect, also their family. After Akane's death, Seishu does the exact same thing, not only does he develop ED, but he starts hanging out with guys to heal his emotional emptiness, guys who treat him like crap the way they treated his sister.

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

I haven't written poetry in years, so I'll put up an Oscar Wilde poem that never fails to inspire me to write <3

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,

And some when they are old;

Some strangle with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because

The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,

Some sell and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.

[e-wills-afterhours]

Taking Initiative

A/N: Shameless OTP fluff. Takes place maybe a few months after GOTNF.

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Rating: F...for Fluff. Also K+.

...K for Kissing.

This feels like deja vu. I think I've written almost this exact same fic and it just didn't survive my previous fandom exodus. I guess...here it is again? But better.

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

Astrid did not have a name for what evolved between her and Hiccup. A few short months ago, any sort of camaraderie between them was an impossibility. He was a feckless disaster, and she was far too concerned with war; her priorities were in proper order, to be fair. She never found him interesting and could not imagine they had much to talk about—then so much changed so fast. Berk was almost unrecognizable now, and so were they.

She and her friends could have fun and be kids. They laughed, flew their dragons for hours, and spent careless afternoons in the sun without fear that fire and death came in the evening. She allowed herself to get close to Hiccup, because there were no distractions and no more pretenses; she truly saw him, and it was disarming.

She never realized how clever he was, smarter and more quick-witted than anyone she knew. His unconventional methods—once thought to be so grating and ridiculous—were downright brilliant more often than not. He could build things with a speed and a talent she never before appreciated. She used to think his mild-mannered ways were a weakness, back when ferocious dragons lurked in the shadows; she now understood that it was his strength. He was much more diplomatic and thoughtful than the rest of her friends, that he made a great confidante and gave solid advice, whether or not she asked him for it.

Yes, they were friends. In fact, she went so far as to call him her best friend—but there were times that cup ran over, and in those moments, she kissed him. What else could she do? He could be so ineffably wonderful that she had to let him know, because he never saw it in himself otherwise.

One would assume kissing made them some kind of official something, but two quick pecks did not a fully actualized relationship make. She never asked him, because she was uncertain whether she wanted to know his answer. Was there a word when feelings and friendship developed together? If there was, she never heard it, and Hiccup did not speak it. He never asked for clarity, taking her impromptu kisses in stride without asking why. Perhaps, he was just as terrified of an answer as she was.

At least, he was for a time.

Racing each other at top speed around the island on their dragons always left them windswept and charged with adrenaline. Hiccup won, because he had a Night Fury; beating him was an impossible task, and probably the only time she did not mind failing. They recounted the thrilling chase as she penned Stormfly for the night; Toothless, on the other hand, enjoyed free rein of Berk.

"One of these days, I'm going to win," she told Hiccup, nudging him with her shoulder as they made their way to dinner together; she would sit beside him, because there was no one else whose company she preferred.

"Maybe if I let you," he replied, grinning.

"Don't you dare!" This time, she aimed an affectionate punch to his arm.

The contact was light, but he rubbed his arm anyway, more from habit than anything else.

"You know, Astrid, you're determined enough that if anyone could, it would be you. I've always admired that about you."

She felt her heart beat a little faster. His compliments landed better than anyone else's ever had. Her pace slowed and he followed her lead, matching her cadence.

"That's not the only thing you admire about me," she teased, with a coy smirk. They were sixteen, and friends or not, there were other powers at work whether Hiccup would admit it or not.

His face turned a noticeable shade of pink beneath all of his freckles. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Okay, now, that's not fair."

She laughed and grasped his elbow to keep him from fleeing, as he sometimes did when a situation turned the least bit awkward. "I'm joking!"

"Are you, though? Sometimes, I can't tell," he said, but he was smiling right along with her. "What am I going to do with you?"

They were no longer walking, and Astrid could not recall when they stopped. She was, however, aware of how close they were standing. While she did not think it was wrong to notice how green his eyes were, friends did not typically look at each other that way. They almost assuredly were not supposed to notice the rather pleasing way the other person was filling out—but he was, and they were the same height now; and oh gods, did she notice. Perhaps there was more truth in her teasing than even she cared to admit.

"Hiccup, I—"

She was not sure what she was going to say in that moment, but it was a coherent thought. At least, it had been. Before Hiccup kissed her.

One moment they were standing there, teasing each other. The next, his lips were on hers, gentle and warm. Her brain seized up. She could not get it unstuck while her heart was doing backflips and screaming with joy. The kiss was not a peck, nor an intrusive bid for more; it was a statement, a declaration.

Too soon for her liking, he pulled away, though he did not go far. Their lips were still close enough to share a breath between them—had they any left to spare. Both of them hung on the moment, not moving, not saying anything. Her hands were on his chest, clutching his tunic. She was not sure when that happened. Beneath her fists, she could feel his heart pounding away with a fervor to match her own.

In his eyes was the same question that haunted them for months: the one she did not dare to ask so he would not dare answer. But he was asking it then, and she was compelled to respond to ease the anxiety she felt in his gaze.

They were best friends—and they were also much more. She wanted it, and now she knew with absolute certainty that he did too.

She moved a hand from his chest to the back of his head in what she hoped was as clear a signal as any.

"Do that again," she murmured, in case he still had any doubts.

He smiled, his relief palpable; and his hand on her lower back sent delightful tingles up her spine. When they kissed again, it was confident and sure. He was hers, and she was his; and they were them—and there was no guesswork left to muddy the waters.

Astrid decided then and there that his initiative was just one more thing to love about him.

[marchtothefuckingsea]

Not Who You Are - Loki

Hi hey hello! MAN did this not actually take forever to write. I sat down and typed this out in less than a fucking hour, oh boy. The writer's block dam broke and what can I say?

I'll admit this was written a bit as a self comfort story haha so there's that, and there isn't a ton of actual Loki x reader until towards the end but I thought I'd post it anyways.

My Masterlist, if you're interested! I have another Loki fic as well as some other Marvel content.

Enjoy!

pre-established relationship (platonic, I think), hurt/comfort, no usage of y/n, x gender neutral reader!

Word count: 4.2k (I KNOW I KNOW LMAO IT'S A LONG ONE)

Warnings: lots. Nightmares, possible PTSD, injury, violence, death, feelings of survivor's guilt, feelings of worthlessness/self hatred, self-doubt, fear, angst (I usually wouldn't put fear or angst as warnings but these are pretty prominent aspects of the story and I think they definitely deserve to be mentioned in this one.) Due to the length and nature of the story for me personally, this is NOT proofread. I'll get around to it eventually.

I would just like to note: I am in no way trying to romanticize or downplay any of the above. I personally suffer from a lot of these and I wrote this purely as a comfort fic for myself but tweaked the character a bit to make them fit in as more of an Avenger with Avenger problems. None of the things mentioned in this story can be solved with just a little bit of comfort, they require professional help, (which I am also, unfortunately, all too aware of) but sometimes it would just be nice to have a comforting presence, y'know? If you have problems with any of these, please reach out to someone and get the help that you need and deserve.

Summary: Reader has nightmares fueled by survivors guilt, they think they're a horrible person. Loki is there to help them believe they aren't.

I woke up gasping for air with frantic breaths as sweat rolled down my forehead. My eyes darted around in the darkness until I realized where I was. I was safe.

I managed to calm my erratic breathing, I took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm myself further. Though I was physically calm now, my mind was anything but. I took another breath, attempting to empty my mind.

Instead, images of the people I had killed -had been forced to kill, I reminded myself- flooded into my brain. The sound of bullets and gunshots rang out -bullets from my gun- forever engraved into my ears, their cries of outrage and fury as they just shook off my non-lethal shots, forcing me to shoot to kill before they killed me.

I was a killer.

I was supposed to save people, not kill them.

The Loki and the others told me that I did what I had to do, that I would've been dead myself if I hadn't, and that they were so brainwashed by HYDRA that there was no saving them anyway.

They didn't understand.

Then, another flashback. The screams of the people still left in the burning building as I sprinted out to save myself. The heat of the fire burning my skin, the roar of the fire filling my ears until I could hear nothing more. My face was stoic but on the inside I was screaming. Screaming at myself to go back and help who I could. My screams in my head matched those of the people left in the burning building. Terrified, desperate; terrified of who I had become. I had killed people to save myself, now I was leaving others to die to save myself. Wasn't that the exact definition of selfish? The opposite of what a hero, an avenger should be.

This time, Loki had told me it was survivors guilt.

Once again, he didn't understand. I had committed crimes, I deserved to rot in jail. I deserved to die, just as the others had for me. To save my own selfish life.

Without realizing, I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was hyperventilating again. My head spun with dizziness as I collapsed back onto the mattress, choking back sobs and wails, curling up and wrapping my arms around myself, desperate for any form of comfort. I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in Loki's comforting embrace. But he couldn't know.

He couldn't know that I still lived with these images in my brain. That they would never leave my memory, forever engraved onto the insides of my eyelids. Haunted me whenever I shut my eyes.

He had done terrible things in his past too, but he was getting better. He was healing, learning right from wrong again. I couldn't be a bad influence on him.

In a way, it comforted me, gave me some form of hope to cling onto, to see the reformed villain going about his daily life, no longer living with the guilt of the lives he had taken. No longer haunted by the crimes he committed. He realized what he did was wrong and now only worked to better himself and make up for it by saving people on missions.

It gave me hope that one day, maybe I could move on too.

As I reigned in my emotions, I calmed myself once again, slowly sucking in deep breaths of air. As I calmed down, I felt the heavy weight of sleep settle over me, I felt the tiredness in my entire being from the attack. My eyelids fluttered shut.

I stumbled through the hallway some hours later as the friendly banter of the team in the kitchen woke me. I managed a small smile on my face as I entered.

Loki was sitting quietly by the table, watching the others with an amused look in his eyes. I knew he did not wish to join then, but enjoyed watching them all the same. I slid up beside him, leaning on the counter.

"Good morning." His lips quirked up into a small smile that made my heart flutter.

"Morning." I couldn't help but to smile back, his presence dissolving any lingering fears of the nightmare the night before. I was used to them now, not desensitized, but I was able to push them down and not think about it.

"Brother!" I heard Thor call over to Loki. He groaned, a pestered expression on his face. I exhaled through my nose, a small laugh.

"You're going on a mission today!" Thor reminded the both of us as he stuffed bacon into his mouth.

"I was well aware of that." Loki replied sourly, though anyone who knew him well enough could tell it was lighthearted.

I playfully nudged his shoulder with mine as I sipped my coffee, and he returned the gesture, a small grin now on his attractive face. I didn't deserve him as a friend, not at all, but I couldn't help myself wishing for more.

Once everyone finished up their breakfast, we headed to the debriefing room. As everyone took their places around the table, I leaned against the wall in the background, my usual position. I hated feeling important.

"This is going to be roughly a two day mission," Tony started, pulling out a manilla folder.

"You leave this afternoon in the quinjet, you'll arrive by nightfall. It is up to the two of you to decide from there if you'd like to infiltrate the same night, or rest up for it and head out in the morning. We need the documents from the director's computer, a flashdrive, there should be around 450 gigabytes of information on there…"

I zoned out as he drowned on, having went over the mission files the night before. If anything had changed since then, I trusted that Loki would let me know. He knew I didn't much care for mission debriefings. I saw why they might be useful, but they just annoyed the hell out of me.

"You'll stay at the safehouse for the two nights you're away, there should be clothes and things you'll need there for a couple of nights but feel free to pack your own things. That's about it. Any questions?" Tony straightened up in his chair. I shook my head when he glanced to me.

"Alright. You leave in three hours, be ready. You know where. Good luck." He stood up abruptly, the others following suit as everyone filed out of the room. I sighed in relief that it was over as Loki brushed my shoulder with his on his way out.

"Good luck!" I barely heard Thor shout over the roar of the jet's engines. I waved to him out the door before shutting and sealing it, settling back against the seat, Loki across from me. I let out a contented sigh.

I hadn't even noticed that my eyes were struggling to stay open as I slumped to the side tiredly before Loki said something.

I blinked. "What?"

"Are you alright?" He was leaning towards me, eyes flitting across my face.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." I was trying to reassure myself as much as him. I blinked hard, willing the fuzziness in my vision to go away.

I groaned as we landed with a jolt, both jolt and the difference in altitude making my head pound even more. I was exhausted, I had barely gotten any sleep last night and what I did have was restless and shallow.

His eyes darted over to me as I swayed on my feet when I stood up.

"I think we should go tomorrow. Let's get rested up tonight, shall we?" Loki suggested.

"If you're just saying that because of me, I'm fine. Really, Loki." I added towards the end when he shot me a disbelieving glance. I knew I couldn't lie to the God of Lies himself, but it was worth a shot. I sighed.

"Just a bit tired, is all."

He set his jaw. "We leave tomorrow morning?" His voice carried the tone of a question, but I knew there was no arguing it. I honestly didn't want to argue with it either, a night of rest would do me good, but at the same time the sooner we could get this over with, the better.

"Alright." I sighed.

As we entered the safe house, he suddenly touched his hand to my shoulder, spinning me around to face him.

"Get some rest, okay?" He said softly.

"Okay." I mumbled. I followed him down the hallway, stopping to turn into the left bedroom. He took the right, which was directly across the hall. He offered me a tender smile, which I tried to feebly return.

As soon as I shut the door behind me, I immediately collapsed onto the bed. heaving out a sigh. The movement made my head hurt more than ever and I groaned, massaging my temples. It did little to ease the pain.

I woke up, once again in a cold sweat, my heart beating out of my chest. As soon as I gained my bearings, the memories of the day coming back to me, I flopping back onto the pillows, heaving a sigh. I hastily glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 1:55 AM.

I just couldn't catch a break.

"You're up early darling." Loki commented, walking into the room, already dressed in his suit.

"It's an early mission." I shrugged, chugging down the rest of my coffee and heading for another.. I hadn't gone back to sleep since then, lying awake in bed until I couldn't stand it. That had been around 3 in the morning sometime. I had given up the prospect of sleep by then, seeing how we were departing for the base in three hours. It was now 4 AM.

"You're up early too." I added, frowning. "What's up?"

"I heard a commotion in here." He smiled, teasing. "I thought someone had come to rob us."

I huffed. "I wasn't exactly trying to be quiet."

He sat across the dusty table from me, gazing at me with those piercing eyes. I knew he could see right through me, he could quite literally read minds, but he chose not to. I appreciated him greatly for that.

"So," I began. "What's the plan? Stealth, I presume?" That's what we were both good at, why we made a great team.

He hummed in agreement, glancing down at the table. I knew by now that he wasn't much of a breakfast person, neither was I, but I needed a boost of energy if I was going to get through this mission.

I sighed, placing my empty cup down, the third of the morning already. I could feel the caffeine pumping through my veins now.

"What do you say about heading out early, Trickster?" I stood up, tossing a sly grin over my shoulder to him. He smiled back, standing up as well. "If you're up for it."

"'Course I am. Let me get changed."

The mission had gone quite well, save for a couple of minor injuries I had sustained. Loki had fretted over them at the moment, becoming protective over me; we couldn't get a long enough break to allow him to heal me.

As a loud bang went off, flame and smoke soon engulfed the room. One of the guards' bullets had ricocheted off of a steel beam on the unfinished ceiling, glancing off and instead hitting a nearby canister of fuel, igniting it.

I dully recognized a sharp pain as one of the agents slashed at me with his knife, but that was the last thing I was thinking about at the moment. My mind flashed back to the apartment fire in New York. I gasped, stumbling back and starting to hyperventilate. I barely noticed Loki in front of me, frantically telling me that we needed to leave. I only realized he was there when he grabbed my arm, yanking me out of the room seconds before the second, larger canister of fuel exploded into flame.

Still hyperventilating, I slid down the wall, desperately struggled for air and frantically rubbing my hands up and down my arms as they numbed. I felt a hand rest hesitantly on my arm and my head shot up. Loki.

I broke down there and then, gasping out pathetic sobs and cries. I then felt him pull me into a tender hug, murmuring "It's okay"s into my ear and rubbing my back. My chest heaved as I struggled to pull myself together.

As we dropped our gear in the middle of the living room, I exhaled a shaky breath, remembering that I had some explaining to do about how I had reacted during the mission. I hoped he wouldn't question me on it, that we could just leave it, but I knew that he would want to know.

I went back to 'my' room across the hall. As I changed out of my suit, unsheathing my hidden weapons and carefully placing them in the bedside table, I tried not to focus on the dreaded conversation too long.

As I went back out into the kitchen, pulling out a can of spaghetti from the cupboard and placing it in a bowl, then the microwave, I dreaded the conversation. I flinched when I heard Loki's footsteps coming down the hall.

He huffed at my food choice. "Of all the things available you choose that."

"You should know me by now." I huffed out a laugh.

He pulled out some chocolates from the cupboard and I gave him a disappointed look.

"What?" He asked, a smile playing on his face. The microwave dinged, signaling my food was ready. I grabbed the bowl out and headed over to the dining table, Loki in tow.

He sat across from me, chocolates on the table as he crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair.

I struggled to eat my spaghetti, the smell and taste of it making me nauseous for some reason.

"Fuck it." I muttered, pushing the bowl away and reaching across the table to snag one of his chocolates.

He gave me an amused glance before nudging the box further in my direction.

"I see you've given up on your 'healthy' meal." He joked.

"It's disgusting." I muttered around a mouthful of chocolate dipped pecan.

Once we finished 'dinner', we both headed back to our respective rooms, exhausted from the day's events, me even more so.

I flopped limply onto the bed, allowing the bouncing mattress to toss me this way and that before it settled down. I rolled on my side before groaning when I realized I hadn't taken my sleeping pills.

Really, it didn't matter at this point. It was bad enough already that I was an insomniac, but the nightmares woke me up so frequently that it was impossible to even get any amount of sleep.

I stared at the two blue pills in my palm for a moment before tossing them in my mouth and leaning down to the faucet to down them with water. I took an extra one tonight in the hopes that maybe I wouldn't dream. Maybe I could sleep through for just a single night.

I knew, from my 'attack' during the mission today, that if I dreamed it was going to be bad. It had been a long time since something on a mission had triggered me, and that time I was fortunate enough to be alone. I usually had it so well under control, pushed back to the depths of my mind during consciousness before it came flooding back into my vulnerable sleeping brain.

But the past few nights, no, week of little to no rest had worn me down and my defenses, allowing my unconscious to worm its way up to the surface like worms burrowing to the surface of the earth after a heavy rain.

I unceremoniously slumped onto the bed again, rolling over onto my side and curling into a small ball, desperate for some form of comfort. I attempted to push the worms back down into the earth so I could sleep without my dreams being plagued with nightmares, with little success.

"No. No, no no no no no no. No please." My voice started out a whisper, quickly turning into a scream, a desperate wail as the cries of the people burning alive in the building reached my ears. "Please. Make it stop. What did I do to deserve this? Why? Why- PLEASE" A screaming sob tore out of my throat as a man's cries and yells echoed out of the building.

I stumbled back, clutching my hair and mumbling to myself, "No. No no. No no no no no. No. You couldn't help it- you..you did what you had to do right? that's what they said. They don't blame you, it's not your fault." Another scream pierced the air.

"Please. no. I can't-" I mumbled to myself, backing up. I felt a heat at my back, the flame gripping my shoulders-

"Love. Wake up. You're okay. You're safe." A familiar voice said softly. I whimpered, curling into myself and hugging myself as my breaths grew more erratic.

"You're okay." The voice repeated. I was suddenly aware of his presence. I immediately attempted to reign myself in, even though I knew it was too late, but it turned into a choked sob. He pulled me to his chest, tucking me in close to him and rocking me back and forth.

"It's okay love." He murmured. I clutched onto his shirt for dear life, crying into his shoulder.

"Breathe with me." He said gently, sucking in a slow, deliberate breath and holding it for a moment before allowing it to slowly escape his lungs.

I attempted to repeat the action through my sobs and hiccuping.

"That's it. That's it. Just like that." He encouraged me. Soon, my breathing slowed to a somewhat normal rate, my heart was no longer beating out of my chest. I was just clinging to his tunic, sobbing into his shirt uncontrollably. His hand rubbed comfortingly up and down my back.

"I- I'm okay." I choked out once I could manage enough breath to speak again.

"I'm okay. I'm sorry." I repeated.

"Shh. Don't apologize, you have nothing to apologize for."

"No. No, I'm sorry. You can go back to bed now." My voice cracked, betraying me.

"I will be doing no such thing, now hush. Just focus on calming down, your heart is still racing." He said softly, solidifying his statement by pulling me closer.

I pressed myself closer to him, if that was even possible, desperate for all the undeserved comfort I could receive from him.

He hummed quietly, a soothing, unfamiliar melody that I could only believe was Asgardian in origin. The sound served to further calm me as my body slumped against his tiredly.

“That’s it. You’re okay.” He promised me. I sighed, closing my eyes and managed to relish in the moment once I calmed, knowing this would probably never happen again.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled quietly, still gripping onto him.. “It’s just- I have, I have these-” I drew in a shaky breath, attempting to form a last, desperate excuse.

“Shh. You don’t have to explain anything to me, darling, I know. You don’t have to speak of it until you’re ready. Just relax.”

I sighed. “I don’t deserve you.” I mumbled out pathetically.

He laughed a bit at that.

“No, I think it’s quite the opposite.”

“You don’t understand the things I’ve done, the things I’ve seen- I’ve been so selfish, I’m everything an avenger shouldn’t be.” I heard him sigh.

“I disagree. I have never met anyone as fearless, as selfless as you.” Loki reassured me. “You are the most selfless creature I have ever met, the most passionate of what you believe in. I have never met someone so,” He paused. “Honest.”

At that, I almost snorted. Right.

“No.” I started. “No. Loki don’t do this to me.” I pleaded. His gaze was questioning but he said nothing, willing me to continue my train of thought.

“I killed those people. I murdered them to save myself. I know you think I did what I had to do. I know you and the others think they were too far gone to be saved but I saw it. I saw the horror in their eyes at what they were doing. I saw them. The real people, the innocent people they were before they were controlled. They were still there. They could’ve been saved.” My voice trailed off to a whisper as I forced tears back. I wasn’t done yet. He didn’t understand, he shouldn’t be around me. I was such a bad influence on him, not the other way around. He was getting better, I was not.

“And- and the people in the burning building.” I continued quietly. I was struggling to contain my emotions at this point, afraid my voice would crack under the effort it took. “I killed them, too. I- I left them there, I left them to die, Loki, just to save myself. Innocent people. I still hear their screams at night I can’t-” I broke off with a choked sob, the floodgates were open. I gasped for air, clinging tightly to him once again as I was sent into another panic attack. I whimpered pathetically into his shirt.

“It’s okay, love. You’re okay.” He murmured in his velvet voice. I sobbed harder.

He took exaggerated breaths, willing me to mimic him. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath and I desperately tried to match it, to no avail.

“Breath with me.” He encouraged.

“I can’t.” I choked out, my voice cracking.

“You can.” He said softly. “Breathe with me.” He repeated.

He couldn’t calm me down, not this time. It was too terrible. But as I tired myself out, my sobs turned to small gasps and my cries died down to quiet whimpers. This entire time, he said nothing, offering his silent support and comforting presence as he held me to his chest, humming the same unfamiliar, otherworldly song.

Once I had calmed down, he spoke up, his voice hesitant, not wanting to trigger another attack.

“Is that what this is all about? Your nightmares?” He asked quietly, tenderly.

“Yes.” I answered him weakly, not trusting my voice to say much more than that.

“The horrors you have seen, they do not make who you are. Don't allow them to.” He said softly.

“You were never meant to find out, I had it handled.” I whispered.

“It looks that way to me.” He said sarcastically, though his voice was not harsh nor judgemental. I could only make out concern.

“Do they come every night?” His cool chin rested on the top of my feverish head. I sighed.

“Some nights are worse than others, but yes. Give or take.”

“There have been more bad nights lately, I take it?” I nodded.

“And that’s what caused your..” He hesitated. “..episode, today?” I nodded again.

“I’m sorry, love.” He said softly after a moment of silence. “I should have realized.”

“No, don’t. You’re my friend, Loki, but you can’t notice everything. I don’t expect you to either.”

He was quiet; I could only imagine what was going through his head.

“I want to be there for you.” He said suddenly. I opened my mouth to speak, to say that he was already doing more than enough for me, but he silenced me by leaning down and briefly pressing his cool lips to mine. My heart stopped.

He began to apologize, before I leaned up and hesitantly kissed him. He hummed, wrapping his arms around me as I pulled away.

“So you’ve really meant it then, hm?” I asked, leaning back into him.

“What?”

“All those times you’ve called me ‘love’. How long have you meant it?”

He chuckled at that, a warm sound that emanated from his chest. It calmed me like a cat’s purr. “Ever since I’ve called you that.”

My mind raced back to all those times, how I've felt all this time, realizing just how far back it went.

“I’m an idiot.” I whispered to myself. He glanced down at me quizzically.

“I’ve..” I hesitated on the word. “Loved you this entire time, goddamnit Loki Laufeyson. I never even gave that stupid pet name a second thought.” I said with fake anger. “Gods.”

He laughed, leaning back down onto the bed and pulling me down with him. I gasped in surprise.

“You need to sleep.” He said simply.

I immediately tensed. “I can’t.”

He turned onto his side, pulling me into him and wrapping an arm around my waist. He tangled my legs with his before leaning down to my shoulder, his cool breath fanning my ear, and whispering lowly. ‘I’ll be here. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

“Okay.” I allowed myself to relax into him and the mattress as my eyes fluttered shut, exhausted.

[corysmiles]

Little Streamer Au

I am not afraid of those I call friends

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Quote: “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.”- The Art Of War by Sun Tzu

Warnings: Implied PTSD, Injuries, burn scars, fear, angst, trauma, inhuman behavior mentioned.

Word Count: 1,457

Author Notes: A fic based Up Corysmiles little streamer Au, written by MaybeAPerson, please read the warnings or get f-cked, thanks :> Also, I would like to mention that even though I'm very familiar with Cory's Au, it still doesn't mean ill write the characters or story correctly. This is my interpretation of the event that would take place, so take it with a grain of salt.

(Cory, please add the readmore bar, thanks.)

Technoblade had crafted an online persona; who was unstoppable, undefeatable, unkillable, a being who one should fear, but in reality, he was none of those things.

In reality, he was the exact opposite, he was very killable, and no one feared him; he had the proof alongside the left side of his body the contracture scars left by a bunch of human teenagers having a fun little game with a lighter.

Maybe his trauma was why he never disclosed any personality information about himself even to those who consider friends, so when he found it, Tommy was human.

 Of course, it shocked him, well, not the fact the kid was tiny like himself, that he already begins to suspect from their amounts conversation together, but the thing that shocked him was how willing he was to reveal it to the world.

He watched vlogs and heard the conversation between his friends; they were so soft and careful towards Tommy.

 He felt the insecurities and fear in his head shrink down, to the point he foolish reveal valuable information. He told them he was tiny to in a moment to comfort Tommy. His friends were shocked, and their shock only began to rile his darker thoughts up.

So when Philza arrived in the US alongside Kristin, he couldn't connect with Phil. 

Maybe it was because he was plagued with the same nightmares that haunted him when he was younger after the incident, except now the teenagers were replaced by his friends.

Philza had the lighter in his hand, holding it towards Techno's body, who cried out for help, begging them to stop.

 His pleads were unheard as their only response was to mock him and torment him even more.

"What mate, you thought I would treat the same as human?"

 Wilbur laughed wickedly 

"Awww, look at the little Technoblade, the little piggy soon to be roasted."

Before it could continue, Techno woke up drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe.

So when the day finally came, Techno tried his best to overcome the nightmarish thoughts.

It was apparent to Phil how terrified Techno was of him, so he tried to keep his distance. 

Unbeknownst to Phil, it was a horrible decision.

 As Techno worked so hard to overcome his fear, only for Phil to unintentionally make Techno's effort seem pointless, Techno concluded he would no longer try to get any closer to his friend.

However, Kristin had other plans. She quickly picked up on what these fools were doing to one another, they both obviously cared about one another, and in an attempt to make the other happy, they just ended up hurting each other.

So she decided she would help both of them; she would help Techno overcome his fear and help Philza fix his relationship with his friend.

And she could do this all in one simple step, so as she sat on the giant table on the opposite side to Techno and Phil above her, both eating away silently, she cleared her throat, getting her husband's attention straight away.

 He looked down at her and immediately recognized that she was planning something on her face.

He tilted his head like a confused puppy and wearily smiled at his wife as he had no idea what she had planned.

"Heyyy, Philll." she softly asked.

he stopped eating and raised an eyebrow at her in confusion; not knowing what she wanted, he responded in the same tone and manner

"yessss, Kristin?"

She smiled, and he feared for himself and the poor bastard she was going to drag into her plan.

"I want you to hold me." She said excitingly.

He froze.

'that was it?' he thought 'no, that couldn't be it, could it?'

he nodded confusingly, answering

"Okay?"

He gently placed her hand beside her, and she quickly looked in Techno's direction; he wasn't paying attention to her, but she would fix that, so Kristin coughed as loudly as she possibly could

Techno's head snapped up in her direction; she smiled

'Success!' she thought.

So with not a lot of time before Techno would look away, she lazily threw herself backward onto her partner's palm.

Philza looked dumbfound; he had no idea why she acted this way, which scared him.

So Philza gently lifted his wife's tiny form towards his face, his face full of curiosity yet to figure out her plan.

She quickly sat up, throwing her body forward-looking in-between the gaps between Philza's fingers. Techno's eyes and body showed signs of fear.

Her one-step plan was turning into a failure. Not wanting her efforts to go to waste, she decided to wing it and blurted out;

"Oh, Phil, I forgot how soft your hand is."

silence briefly fell upon them until Philza laughingly asked

"What?"

he stared down at his wife, still somewhat confused, until suddenly a light went off in his head; he had just connected the dots. 

"Oh, yes, my hands are so soft, so very soft and gentle."

Kristin couldn't help but laugh at her husband's performance. It was terrible; however, she decided to look down at Techno, hoping for a better reaction, and surprisingly his eyes were now filled with confusion and enjoyment.

He even piped up

"Phil, man, you gotta let me know what moisturizer you use," he said jokingly, and from then on, the distance that they both assumed was too large to overcome became so small that they both could do it.

So Techno wanting to close the distances, finally turned to Philza after a late-night stream and damned said;

"Phil, I want you to hold me!"

Philza automatically nodded until his brain ultimately registered what Techno had just asked of him; his eyes widened, and he asked with a face full of shock.

"You want me to what?"

Techno five seconds of bravery began to fade as the time ticked away,

"Uhh, I want you to hold me regardless of how terrified I look."

Philza, of course, wanted to deny it outright, he saw how uncomfortable and scared he made his friend, and he was appreciated how far they had come, but the determination he saw on his friend was something he couldn't deny.

He Sighed with a soft smile upon his face.

"Okay, mate."

So slowly and carefully, Philza placed his hand on the desk, a bit away from Techno. He could already see the fear that made his body quietly shock.

Should he remove his hand, he didn't want to reset the progress they had worked so hard to make. His thought was interrupted as he felt pressure upon his hand; he looked down, stunned by what he had just witnessed.

Techno awkwardly joked

"Oh, I guess Kristin was right about how soft your hand is."

Philza softly chuckled, fearing that he would startle and frighten Techno if he chuckled any louder.

So he waited for Techno to give him the signal before slowly bringing him up closer towards his face. He felt the firm grip on his fingertip tighten as the closer he brought his hand up.

Philza stopped slightly, uncurling his fingers to see Techno better. He scanned the tiny form since he could see it far better. The smile on his face faltered and soon turned to sadness as he noticed the left side of Techno's body was severely decorated with scars.

Techno quickly brought his hand to his face as if trying to hide what Phil had already seen, causing the two to stay in silence, not willing to bring up the issue until Techno, feeling pressure by Philza's gaze, stated.

"Oh, sorry, Phil, I forgot how disgusting it was to look out."

Philza face filled with guilt mixed with fear, he panicky stated.

"Oh shit, mate, I was just thinking how bad it must have hurt."

Techno looked confused. Was Phil concerned for him?

He couldn't recall anyone reacting that way before all their response were the same 'eww, what's wrong with your face.' or 'how did you get that? You must have pissed off a human.' 

But the longer he stared at Philza's face, he realized the man didn't look at him in disgust or even in pity, but Philza was concerned for him and sad for him too.

Techno had no idea what to do or say, for that matter.

But he didn't have to do much as he felt a finger softly rub his back in circles; it was strange but comforting to him.

 Techno looked up at Philza, who starred back down softly. The two didn't speak. That's when Techno realized Philza was different; he didn't damned answers from him, and for the first time in Techno's life, he felt safe being held by a human.

Endnotes: Sorry if it's jumpy or not what you want; I haven't written Techno or Philza as main characters, more as background characters, and they didn't interact. Also, I couldn't write scenes since I'm lazy. And I decided to rewrite the whole thing at 11 because fuck it. So any mistakes or weird dialogue, oh well, it's fucking 1:30 AM, and I'm too tired to care, and I will probably regret my decision in the morning. Also, it's technically a fanfic, so you should have known it would be cringe and shitty :P

Cory notes: FATHER I LOVE IT!!! YES GIVE ME THE PHIL AND TECHNO HURT/COMFORT >:D do not regret it because I love this so much, thank you for this blessing (and reminder that I love your writing) <33333