#Then I read the rest of it and my heart got stabbed repeatedly

[shining-gem34]

@celestial-narwhal: Yingxing will kiss so gently, cupping his cheeks as if they're made from delicate petals- Only for it to fade into Blade, gripping his cheeks with a harsh snarl [kill] "What have you done to me."

Dan Feng Appeared! What do you do?

CW: Stabbings and uhhh murder (in name of self-defense) will be under cut.

The stress of today troubles melts away with his beloved star gentle kiss. Moments like these are fleeting that if Yinyue Jun isn't careful- it'll be gone in a blink of an eye. For Yingxing and his short life, he savors every bit of his love freely given to him. Yet it was never enough for Yinyue Jun.

To think the esteemed High Elder became so greedy. Every second of the day spent with his star is a treasure he zealously guards close to his heart like a possessive dragon.

"Yingxing." Yinyue Jun sighs happily against his lips. He raises his hands to cup Yingxing cheeks, "I wish for this moment to last forever, my burning star."

But "forever" is crueler than death as "love" can become poison.

The dream crumbles like sand and slips between his fingers.

In front of Yinyue Jun is a stranger who wears the same face as his beloved star. Instead of violet eyes filled with love, he meets a pair of crimson eyes twisted by hate. The hands grasping his cheek burns as if this man wants to turn him into ashes.

"You...!" The High Elder snarls, reaching to wrench this man hands away from him.

Then the squelch of a blade sinking into flesh is heard loud and clear.

Azure eyes are wide and horrified to see Cloud Piercer in his hands. The blade cutting flesh and crushing the sternum before it aims straight for the heart. Crimson rivulets drip down the spear, staining his hands red with his blood. His vision blurs, watching the man coughs on his own blood yet his beastly eyes never left him.

Realization dawns on Yinyue Jun and his voice wavers, "I...What have I-"

"I'm not him!" Another voice, younger and panicked, screams in the darkness.

The illusion is gone, Dan Heng shoulders tremble with barely concealed frustration. His eyes are wide with fear, but filled with determination to live and survive another day.

"How many times must I say it until will you accept it? That man crimes has nothing to do with me- He is dead."

Resolved, the youth digs his spear deeper into Blade heart waiting for his life to fade.

"I. Am. Not. Dan Feng!"

When the light is gone from Blade eyes, he retracts back his spear. The body goes limp, falling to the ground with a hole in his chest. Blood gathering into a pole underneath him, cold and unmoving. Dan Heng eyes him warily before he turns his back and leaves without another glance.

Sooner or later, and hopefully much later, the ghost will rise again after a brief respite in Death embrace.

The chase will continue. This dance of sword and spear, of life and death, will never end until one of them truly dies.

[ribbonsssence]

devouring heartstrings ──── ୨୧ ────

summary﹒ You killed a person, you ate a part of their fucking forearm. So what else to get help in getting rid of the corpse from none other than your cutesy "cannibalistic" serial killer girlfriend?

a/n ﹒ I decided to repost this coming from ao3 ! Please look at the fanfic on ao3 cause the discord layout came from ao3 and my fanfic so please look on ittt

content includes ﹒ angel x reader ; gender-neutral reader ; cannibalism ; hurt/comfort ; blood, gore, & violence ; eventual fluff

Becoming a well-known author in the creative industry was something you wished for before. You just wished the commitment would not have stumbled down a domino effect.

"Let me— go!" you screamed, desperately yanking out your arms away from your obsessive fan's firm grip, but you couldn't. Using your legs and feet was no use; you kept tripping, and you already had no energy from your authors' conference.

You weren't sure how this even happened; you were just in your room lazing around, and this fan came from your open window and behind you. If you were to write him in a book, it'd be an infatuating stalker who wants to kidnap their favorite author after reading their first book published. It seems like a perfect description of him, if only he was a random side character you wrote among the concepts you made.

"C'mon, I've done everything to support and usher your popularity through the charts!" he exclaimed. He had a disturbing grin that will undoubtedly rest in your mind for months. "Let's be together!"

You barely have the energy to fight him off verbally when it's already worse physically.

You struggled a lot. He was relentless. You were neither a strong fighter nor a serial killer. Ultimately, it felt hopeless as you managed to pull away from his grip and stagger back, about to collapse. Your wrists have been bruised from the amount of times he held your wrists roughly. You wanted to end this now.

He lunged towards you and got ahold again of your wrist. But the desperation surged through you, and by a raw instinct, you leaned forward to his forearm to bite in it deeply, using your last strength to get him down.

You sank your teeth into his forearm as it gave way under pressure, and a rush of the thick, metallic blood soon coated your tongue. Tasting the lingering saltiness as the blood seeped your throat. It was such a nauseating taste, heavy and bitter, but your sudden cannibalistic urges held you back, biting harder and tearing more of his skin and tendons.

Luckily, it got him down, contorting in pain, pulling himself away from you. Seizing the moment, you used that to thrash across his face and collarbone. You hear the numerous cracks among the firm hits you made and moving downwards to his chest by punching his abdomen hard, enough for blood to spew out of his mouth.

Vitality was at a loss, but it seems like he's currently focusing on the forearm that you ate a part of. You know doing this wasn't enough, so what better way than to just resort your cannibalistic instinct and pick up your desk lamp to stab him in the chest?

Running quick to your desk to grab the lamp you bought from your local online shopping brand, anchoring the lamp directly on top of his chest, you thrust the lamp repeatedly. The initial blow was strong, puncturing his skin till his heart had been stabbed and stabbed, and the room echoed with wet, visceral sounds—

Then you stopped.

Your bedroom was becoming a mess, soaked in the warm red blood of your crazy stalker-fan. Blood lingered through every bit of the room — sight, smell — such a total mess.

You begin trembling as a whole and stare blankly at his body. You were breathing shallowly and shaking, with the lamp dropping from the bloody hands with ease. Your mind is spiraling out of control.

"I fucking killed someone."

Wow. You never thought to this day, you'd actually kill someone or something, and to make it worse, you ate a part of their forearm, seriously. You can still taste the awful bitterness of blood and flesh in your stomach. You were given flashbacks of that dark web chatroom you joined a year ago; you were given flashbacks of Angel.

Right, Angel. You totally forgot about her ever since your fan broke in to your bedroom and tried to kidnap you. Now that you actually did human cannibalism, it was so humiliating; she has been the center of a cannibalism-related running gag, and before she could've even become one, you got to it first.

Oh, and, not to mention — she's your girlfriend.

Your body was still trembling; you crossed your arms and held a firm grip on your elbows as you kneeled in front of the most gory scene you ever witnessed, and it was because of you. How should you react again? Your surroundings started to become a blur, slipping yourself into a haze with a tightened chest and stifled sobs. You didn't want it to end like this, but it had to.

Officially, this is the most traumatizing day for you. And in addition to that, the day hasn't yet finished: you have to clean everything else.

Undoubtedly, you can't do it. You did not and probably will never recover from this incident. Therefore, how?

"..."

"I need her help."

Your sight instantly unblurred itself as you wiped the streaming tears from your face. You can't almost breathe, but you will settle that aside later.

You undergo a rush to search for your phone, just when you find it near your bed, where it presumably fell off from the bed. Gently picking up your phone, hands still covered in blood that isn't yours. You directed yourself instantly to the chatroom, to the channel: #killer_shit.

<midnightxnarratives> hi, sorry! just got into my murderous mood just now!! D: IMG_1243.jpg <LUCA_IS_SO_COOL> YO???? DUDE?? ＠midnightxnarrative!?!?111/1 <goreboy> damn ＠everyone look at this <hitmeuppp> HOLY SHIT??? DIDN'T THINK THIS IS HOW YOU KILL TBH ALSO ISN'T THAT YOUR BEDROOM WTF?? <K9> This is... unexpected. <midnightxnarratives> I knoww,, this isn't how I usually do it btw Also @Angelic Can you check dms pleassee, it's really important. <Angelic> ... ofc!! just for you, my dear <3 <hitmeuppp> wait something doesn't feel right

Your fingers dragged up to switch to the direct messages of Angel, god forbid Misaki's last message.

<midnightxnarratives> help i fucjing killed someone idk what to do i didn't mean to do it plsplspls i need you im sobbing <Angelic> i'll go there right now you can tell me what happened once i get there.

Oh, aren't you just so screwed?

Angel is on the way, but that means you will have to wait for her; you will have time for yourself and reflect on what you have just done.

Lifting yourself with the entirety of your strength, you staggered to your bathroom to wash yourself, even if it was just your hands and face.

The faucet becomes stained with pure blood. The blood is effortlessly withdrawn from your hands and face. You decided to examine yourself in the mirror and saw you, an insatiable person. You take heavy breaths against the cold mirror; it becomes hazy. The faucet is still running.

Thinking about it again, it is quite ironic. Angel. She was the one with the cannibal label pressed on her. How can you tell her you've eaten and killed someone simultaneously?

You gently closed the running water of the faucet, preparing yourself to walk back to your bloody room.

Time doesn't wait, they say, and you sure hope it wasn't. The clock ticks slowly; you really hoped it wasn't waiting for you.

It ticks more until a high-pitched voice calls out your name; it's her.

As you gently open the door, the hinges creak softly, and Angel suddenly pulls you into a tight, warm embrace once she sees the glimpse of you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she gasps. "I wasn't there to protect you; I promised I would kill anyone for you. But..."

Her warm and radiating presence soothes your tensed body. Better yet, the tight embrace grounds you in a sense of comfort, of freedom; you cried against her collarbones; the crying felt more satisfied than ever, thanks to her presence.

"It's— It's fine," you hiccupped. "Let me hug you for another minute, please."

Angel wraps her hands around the back of your cranium, squeezing her hands; she threads her fingers against your hair, running through your hair soaked in dry blood. She pulls you closer than before. Her lidded eyes examine the current state of your room and the corpse.

"I'll dispose of the corpse; I'll clean everything. Would... That be all right?" Angel asks, her voice faint and gentle, soothing to your ears.

"Later," you replied, your voice steady and firm, "I want you to leave it all like it is."

Angel blinks, her eyebrows slightly furrowed as she processes your words. "Ah, does this mean... you wanna do the talking first? I'll clean you up too."

You sensed the unwavering uncertainty on her face, so you gave her a slight gesture of a nod. And she pulls you out of the embrace, tracing her fingers against your arms to your hand, just to intertwine it together. She tenderly pulls you away to help you clean up in the bathroom and go into a new atmosphere in the living room.

Now you're on the couch with her; she offers you tissues. You've been crying for the past few minutes, and you can barely breathe. You've been avoiding her gaze, but you can sense her face mixed with emotions. She shoves herself closer to you, clasping her hand with yours as she almost closes the gap between you and her.

You take the biggest breath-ins and breath-outs you've had before. "I killed him, but I didn't mean to," you stated, keeping your voice steady and firm as it was earlier.

"..Of course you didn't," Angel replies softly, "so? How do you feel right now?"

Silence lingers through the room till you snort out, turning into bitter laughter. "It's, ironic! Isn't it?" you giggled with a curled-up smile.

The same unwavering uncertainty appears again on Angel's face. "What are you trying to say?"

Another set of laughter bursts out of you, laughter so dry and bitter your throat becomes hoarse once you try to speak. You can see her face turning to worry; her gaze softens, and she squeezes her hands in your hand tentatively.

"I ate a part of his forearm."

...

Silence again lingers; the tension is heavier and tightened.

You averted your eyes away from her face, but you know damn well she had those wide eyes, slightly parted lips, mixed in the shock and bewilderment. Her unspoken words left you hanging in a closed-space atmosphere.

"Is that all?"

"Huh?" you blurted before bringing your sight to Angel's face.

"I suppose the picture you sent gave me a hint that you ate his forearm."

Despite being in such a situation, a dry chuckle escapes from your lips as you try to suppress your amusement. "Really? I should've expected it, coming from you," you muttered, subconsciously pulling out a smirk.

Angel's gentle expression instantly changed into a sharp and withering look at you. "Oh, shut it," she shot back, lowering her head slightly as she sighs with a now softened gaze, still looking at you with her clasped hands onto yours. "Look, I just want you to feel safe with me, okay? I'll make sure no one will find out about this, not even anyone from the server."

The moment you saw her tender and soft look, your poker face faltered, feeling more of the heavy weight of your true emotions falling down. Her sweet, gentle voice full of sincerity and care brought slight tears unbidden to your face; of course she would know; she has always felt safe with you, even in chat. Now it would probably be the time for you to feel safe in her presence.

Trusting Angel and yourself, you let go of all the weight in your body and embrace her warmth again.

Once you dropped the weight of your body onto her, your face pressed against her shoulder, the faint scent of her delicate fragrance lingering on her clothes, mingling with the chaos that still clung to the air. Her arms wrapped around you instinctively; you could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest, her breathing calm and rhythmic, as if willing your own to match her pace. There and there, you can feel the soothing sensation that you feel every time you text and call her.

"Just promise me you won't tell anyone," you sighed.

Angel's fingers trace a circle around your back, her touch light and soft. As she pulls you closer, her eyes lingered to the door to your bedroom. "Of course, just like what you've done for me," she assures, and she pauses. A faint puff comes from her: "Here, look at me."

Anything to look at her pretty and tender face, you lifted your head from her shoulders, and your gaze meets her again.

Immediately, and without warning, her hands cupped your cheek, feeling her cool, soft palm against your warm, dry tear-streaked face; her thumbs brushed softly around the edges of your jaw. Before processing the gesture, she leans in, pressing her lips onto your lips. You sensed the same soft and delicate lips that you first encountered during your first visit to Angel's, or de la Rosa's, house.

You kissed Maria de la Rosa again. How would you write this kiss? Maybe something like 'de la Rosa's lips were as soft as cotton, yielding gently against yours. The faint scent of her perfume, a sweet and floral aroma, drifts between you and her, enveloping your senses in its fragrance. Her lips carried a softness that was otherworldly. As time stretched, it was so passionate yet intoxicating, but you decided to savor this moment she wove for you.'

And you really did savor the moment; it took care of all the overbearing weight you seeped in from that obsessive now-dead fan of yours. The kiss, her presence, everything about Angel, Maria de la Rosa, the Heartsick Angel, grounded you entirely.

On the other hand, you yourself still had that taste of a cannibal; the metal tang still stenches through your mouth and throat; you could taste it, and she would've, but she seemingly ignores it.

You pulled yourself away from the prolonged kiss that was your salvation; the sweetness of her scent and the lingering sensation of her lips left a spectral mark, probably for the rest of your life too.

"Fuck..." Angel whispers, her cheeks flushing a pale pink color, her eyes darted to nowhere, a heavenly sight for you to see. Were you even allowed to see? Who cares? Angel seemed awkward as she shifted in her position. "Sorry, if the kiss was too sudden, I thought it was a way to soothe you, did it?" she gently asks.

You immediately giggled, "oh, but of course it did. What, were you caught off guard too?"

Angel sighs, hinting a sense of defeat, "perhaps I didn't meant it to go way further, and as for the taste.."

"Ah— you did taste it?" You assert, a sheepish smile forming on your face. It was expected, but you didn't think she would comment about it.

"You told me you ate a part of their forearm, so I was expecting it," Angel firmly replies. "Even so, it's not like I would've have disliked it," she snickers, with a slight blush of acknowledgement. Fuck right off, of course she wouldn't!

"Holy shit you actually admitted to liking it: you're a well-nigh cannibal."

The blush on Angel lingers longer and deepens with the boldness of her to just abruptly admit she liked the taste to you. At this point, you knew her subconscious carnivorous desire had begun stirring up in her senses, just as you imagined.

Angel pouts. "Well, you're an actual cannibal, for I, am just a well-nigh cannibal." She smirks, with a tone reeking of playfulness and tease.

You didn't respond to her antics, other than an eye roll.

"However, getting that aside, I'll clean the corpse and everything else," Angel states, glancing you with a tentative smile. "Would you like it if I stay for the night? I'll send a notice to my agencies and my channel."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you reply, your voice quieter than you intended, but you felt safe, and that's all it matters. You managed to curl your lips into a small, grateful smile. "Thank you."

"Anything for my man-eating girlfriend." Angel coos, plastering a playful grin with a light and cheerful giggle.

You blink, the weight of realization sinking in slowly; the cannibalism joke has been turned against you instead of Angel. You sigh in defeat and with a sting of disappointment; should you try relenting? No... You know better as an author, and even if it was just a one-time.

[cakerybakery]

“So why are we here, again?” Lucifer questioned, looking up at Adam from his seat on the bench next to him.

Adam used his soda to point at Alastor with a knife, hunting down one of the animatronic victims at mall’s Murder Zone Arcade. “He’s been all cagey and aggressive lately, so I figured he might have some fun at the murder house. Maybe even make a new friend since Charlie says he’s been more distant than normal since I nearly killed him during our fight.”

Alastor laughed manically as he plunged his knife into the animatronic human’s heart repeatedly and some prize tickets spewed out.

“Well, he does look like he’s having fun.” Lucifer winced as the realistic blood sprayed across the floor. “But why are we here?”

“You know your kid can’t stomach this place, and if he goes off the rails too much he needs someone that can reign him back in before he starts destroying shit he’s not supposed to.”

“Right. Do I have to stay here the whole time, or…?”

“Go on. Just be back in an hour. I want to go check out the music store.” Adam called after Lucifer as he took off to check out the theme park in the mall.

It took a few hours for Alastor to wear himself out and Lucifer was itching to go home so Adam grabbed his shopping bags and boyfriend so they could go up to the fence that marked the arcade’s outdoor zone from the rest of the mall.

“Time to go, Al.” He called and Alastor looked over from his conversation he was having with another serial killer about stabbing techniques to get the most out of the motion.

Alastor glared at him but said his goodbyes and desolved into a shadow that moved across the floor and under the fence to he could reform by them.

“You have a good time, kid?” Adam asked as they walked towards the exit.

Portalling back to the hotel in the mall was rude, according to Lucifer. It inconvenienced others and sometimes they accidentally walked through the portal and Lucifer would have to send them back. It was better to do it outside.

“It was an enjoyable day, I must admit. Although,” Alastor jabbed his cane into Adam face, “I don’t recall changing my mind about the nicknames, Adam.”

He snorted at the threat and pushed the cane out of his face, “right, I forgot. Sorry about that, Alastor.”

Alastor was only about a hundred years old but he thought he was so grown up. Of course, Adam had thought the same when he was that age.

‘The folly of youth.’ Adam chuckled to himself.

It was funny. Back in heaven he thought himself as young and hip. The cool dad. In hell he felt a little more his age. The grey strip in his hair probably helped. As did the reading glasses he started to need.

These days he looked at sinners as less of degenerates and more like kids fumbling around trying to figure things out, but that was probably Charlie’s fault. All her preaching about sinners having made mistakes and if they truly learned and wanted to be better didn’t they deserve the chance to try and better themselves?

He supposed they might. If they actually wanted to be a better person, if they actually put in the effort to better themselves, souls were eternal. Always capable of change. Took falling for him to realize he wasn’t just inherently doing good because he was an angel.

Of course some folks didn’t want to change. That was fine. Alastor seemed one of the sort that wanted to be in hell. That relished in causing pain and destruction. But not everyone was happy in hell.

When you took away hope, when you made bettering yourself pointless, you got people that stopped caring. That stopped trying. That just tried to survive and live their afterlives the only way they knew how.

Adam wondered a lot these days about his fall. Which of his actions were wrong. Was it just the big things, were there little things? When he was alive could he have done better by his kids? By Eve?

Probably.

He did his best with what he had at the time. It was good enough to get him into heaven, but he believed that made him perfect. There was a lot of that in heaven. He was never forced to look at himself as he truly was. An imperfect being that made mistakes sometimes. That hurt others sometimes.

What was the difference between him as an angel and an average sinner? The scales tipped him just enough to give him a halo and wings. He’d done just enough right to make it before the pearly gates.

How many monster in hell were not born but made? How many sinner could have been saints if they had different chances in life? One can talk about choices but if the choice is to steal or starve, is it a choice? Why is it a sin to survive? Not everyone is some poor, if only they had other options, but not everyone is unrepentant either.

Sinner or winner most everyone is somewhere in between.

Charlie was looking for the saint in the sinner. Maybe what she should be looking for is what’s tipping the scale towards hell instead of heaven. A bit more reasonable than just blinding throwing darts at a target and hoping she stumbles into how to reform someone. She already knows not everyone is looking to go to heaven. She’s just having trouble instilling hope in the hopeless. In reaching those that have a chance of being reformed.

Lucifer and Alastor were already starting to get on each other’s nervous by the time they made it out to the sidewalk.

He handed Lucifer his bags then flicked both of them on the back of their heads. “Knock it off you two. Alastor stop trying to antagonize Lucifer. Lucifer stop being antagonized. You’re like a million years old. Act like it.”

“Yes, you should be a good example for- OW!” Adam flicked Alastor again. “Would you cut that out?!”

Lucifer laughed and Adam flicked him too.

“Enough.” Adam scolded. “You two. I swear I’ll leave you at home next time Lucifer.”

He gasped, “but the train!”

One of his boyfriend’s weird obsessions was the train at the theme park in the mall. Adam didn’t get it, but it made the guy happy.

“Then behave. Let’s head home.” Adam waited for Lucifer to open the portal and turned to Alastor. “would you like to help me make supper? I was thinking steaks. Got some deer in the freezer I can toss on the grill to warm up for you. Be like it’s still alive.”

That seemed to work and his smile reached his eyes when he agreed.

Maybe next time they could come as a group. Niffty would probably like the Murder Zone Arcade too. The others would likely prefer the theme park.

Could be fun. He’d have to suggest it to Charlie later.

[0oolookitsme]

Keep On Waiting

Type - One-Shoty Blurb!

Verse - Footballer!Harry x Art Director!Y/n (Bffs era <3)

Word Count - 1.2k

Warnings - Some cuss words, that's all!

A/N - There's so much pining in this one (eeee!!!) I'm so excited for y'all to read it! Also, Merry Christmas in advance to all of you who celebrate!!

MASTERLIST | Please rb to share!

The sound of hot milk pouring into the ceramic cups was music to Harry's ears. He stirred some hot chocolate in the pair of cups, the saucepan long forgotten to be put in the sink. Hooking his fingers through the cup handles, he turned around and started walking to the living room with a hop in his steps -- the Christmas ambience that Y/n had put on adding to his mood.

"Here you go," he said while handing one of the cups to his best friend, who's glasses were pushed high up the bridge of her nose as she wrapped the gifts scattered on his dining table. "Of course, darling! You're welcome," he sarcastically exclaimed after a while at the lack of appreciation from her.

Their families were out and about to attend a friend's wedding anniversary party, and Y/n had come over at Harry's when she got his call begging her to come over and help him wrap the presents. If she had known that by 'help' he'd meant that she would literally be wrapping all of his presents, she wouldn't have gotten all of her stationary and brought her own gifts to wrap at his place, in the first place.

Y/n looked up at him with a glare in her eyes. "I'm sat here, wrapping not just mine but your presents also, since hours! Did you say, 'thank you' to me, once?" She shouted at him, slapping his arm repeatedly.

"It's not my fault you're so slow," Harry grumbled under his breath, a smile slipping from the grasp of his dimpled cheeks when she gasped loudly.

Pushing the chair behind her, Y/n stood up as if about to kill him. "How dare you -- You little piece of absolute shit!" She shouted again, betrayed. "Wrap your own fucking presents, a-and drink my hot-chocolate too! I'm leaving!" She slammed the scissors down on the wooden table before she could stab Harry with them and turned, not actually wanting to leave because the first sip of that hot chocolate had her forgetting of all her troubles.

"Y/n, y/n!" He scrambled to get up, dropping the roll of gift-wrapping papers in the process. "I'm sorry and I'm- I- Oh Jesus! I thank you!" He stuttered, standing tall in front of her so she wouldn't escape him. His hold on her elbow was still tight and with the way she was looking at him with her big eyes, Harry wished they were standing under a mistletoe right then and there.

A spurt of laughter fell from her mouth, catching Harry off-guard. "Of course, darling! You're welcome!" She laughed, ridding her arm of his hold and molding her body against his in a hug, unable to stop her laughter when she felt how rigid his body was.

"I fuckin' hate you," Harry chuckled, hugging her back and swaying them side to side.

His eyes landed on the Christmas tree in the corner, seeming to be glittering with the way he and Y/n had decorated the tree with flickering lights. He took in a deep breath, resting his head in the crook of her neck. How perfect this moment was, with Y/n in his arms wearing a sweater matching to his, and the holiday coziness.

"Harry?" He heard her call to him softly and his cheeks flushed in his dream. "Harry!" She shouted, and he jerked back only to find her chuckling. "Where did you get lost?" She asked, not really looking for an answer as she silently walked back to the dining table, sitting on the chair that had now lost its warmth, and began humming along with whatever tune that was playing on the TV.

Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, and she feared that he was going to hear it. Her breathing was a bit heavy, as if she'd walked up a few stairs. "By what time are they going to be back, again?" She asked Harry, who had yet to sit back at his spot, to calm her nerves and get things back to normal again.

"Should be here in an hour or so," he mumbled, and Y/n could tell he was feeling just as conflicted as she was. "I'll be back in a minute," he told her before she heard him climb up the stairs to his room.

She dropped the scissors and slumped on the table, feeling too many things at once. She had no idea how much longer she could act like her heart didn't beat differently whenever he was around, like current didn't move through her body in waves whenever he so much so looked at her in a way, she'd seen him look at sunrises.

Breathing in and out a few times, she pushed the thought to the back of her mind before switching to play some cheery Christmas carols instead. Just in time, she heard Harry coming back down and went back to wrapping the present she had gotten for Anne.

"Here," Harry passed her a CD. "We'll watch this after dinner, on the sofa."

It was a CD of the musical, 'The Nightmare Before Christmas', and Y/n smiled looking down at it. It was a tradition they shared, to watch the movie every year during the Christmas break when they were back home. She looked up to nod at him, before grabbing a hold of her hot chocolate which had gone cold by now.

"Do I microwave it," Harry asked her when he saw her face retreat in distaste from the mug. Laughing, he picked both of the mugs and went to the kitchen. "Do you want a refill of marshmallows?" He shouted from there, already chucking some in his mug.

"Of course, yes I do, Harry!" She laughed, shaking her head. She started singing along to Mariah Carey's 'All I Want For Christmas Is You' and heard Harry soon catch up with her. He walked out of the kitchen with their mugs in his hands, singing with exaugurated expressions on his face.

She giggled in the midst of her singing but Harry never stopped.

"Oh, I won't ask for much this Christmas,

I won't even wish for snow.

I'm just gonna keep on waiting,

Underneath the mistletoe."

Harry sang, and the both of them avoided the awkwardness to swim its way back between them as they sang at the top of their lungs, with their heads thrown back.

"All I want for Christmas is you, baby. All I want, all I really want is you!" The both of them shouted, singing the last line; their faces flushed and tears of utter joy moistening their eyes.

With their hot chocolates gone cold all over again, they knew that they'll be putting up mistletoes in their houses at whichever spot they found -- that they'll be waiting for any and every opportunity they'd get to make the other one their own to take care of, romantically.

Harry sat down to actually try and wrap some presents with his future-wifey (as he likes to think) because if Anne were to find out that Y/n wrapped them all on her own, he would probably not get his presents from her. Y/n, on the other hand, kept on humming the same tune over and over again, but the lyric that was playing inside her mind was the one saying that she would keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 26

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Flashback smut AN: Sorry for being so late Dearhearts, Thanks for waiting. In exchange-- Oh! Opps, sorry- I tripped there. Did I? Oh no, I spilled my daddy issues all over the page. Oh dear… Hope I'm still allowed in the blanket fort... Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

After performing the tuck in ritual, Mia didn’t expect to see Sally again until morning. She was typically a good sleeper and not prone to nightmares so it wasn’t unheard of at all for her to be down easy and stay down for the night. Mia had gotten very lucky with that child, she knew.

Instead, the little girl scared both her and Tom nearly out of their skins not even an hour after seemingly being sound asleep, lulled to dreamland by the sound of Tom’s voice reading her a new book. She appeared in the hallway while they were sitting down for a movie, standing still, quiet and clearly not alright in a way that Mia wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone who wasn’t a parent if asked. 

It was just a look that kids got. A look that said the world was shattered. A look that screamed of a shattered heart in the way only a child’s heart could shatter. It was a look that shattered a parent’s heart before a single word was spoken. 

“What’s wrong?” Mia asked, seeing the tears in Sally’s eyes though she knew exactly what was wrong. 

Part of Mia had been waiting for this moment all evening, dreading it, knowing it was a matter of time. All the distractions were gone now. Sally realized what was missing from her perfect day and that crushed her. It was a pain Mia knew Sally was growing used to. It was a pain that Mia would do anything to take away from her. 

“Why didn’t Daddy come?” 

Tom froze by the microwave, bag of popcorn in his hand after turning to them. His heart broke for the little girl. This was a pain he didn’t know if he could ever take away from her. He wasn’t even sure if it ever going to be his place to try. The muscle in his jaw twitched with how tightly he clenched his teeth, biting off words and snarls that felt more fitting for his most recent character than himself. 

“I’m sure something important came up.” Mia carefully said, “I know he wanted to be here.”

“Something more important than me?” In the kitchen the bag of un-popped popcorn fell from Tom’s hand but no one, not even him, seemed to notice the sound of it slapping the floor. 

“Nothing’s more important than you.” Mia wrapped her arms around Sally and picked her up. 

“Then why didn’t he come?” 

“I don’t know, honey.” 

The little girl was clinging to her mother, crying into her damp hair. Mia’s heart broke for her daughter. Nothing she could say or do would change the fact that once again, Sally came in last place to her father. Mia looked helplessly to Tom, tears gathered in her own eyes. 

This is the pain of being a parent, her eyes told him. This was what trying to make their drunken impulsive marriage work came with. Was he really up for this? Was he ready for this? Could she trust him not to be another cause of this? Could she risk him being just another scar on the heart of a little girl through the rest of her life?

Tom stepped on the bag of popcorn as he came around the counter. He didn’t notice or care. The thought to busting the bag open didn’t even cross his mind. If it had burst underfoot, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“Why dosen’t he love me?” Sally sobbed into her mother’s shoulder. This was a pain well known to the little girl, he could see that in both their faces.

“I’m sure he loves you.” Mia whispered, rocking her newly five year old daughter as if she was still just her littlest girl and in that moment, she was.

Tom didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Sally was going through. Seeing it was enough to stab him in the heart repeatedly. Emotions warred within him that he couldn’t justify or explain. 

He couldn’t understand how a father would choose to do this to his daughter. Ray had said he would come and though Tom was not eager to meet the man, this wasn’t what he had expected to happen. Any shred of respect Tom had reserved for the father of his step daughter was ripped to shreds. 

How dare the man hurt Sally like this. How dare Ray hurt his daughter. 

How dare he hurt Tom’s daughter. 

His. 

Sally was his now. 

It wasn’t the first time she had been hurt by her father in such a way. It was clear in the defeated way she cried and her pleading questions that this wasn’t new. This was a repeated pain, a wound that was picked at every missed holiday and birthday. 

Without any way to fix things for them, Tom rested his hand on the small back to let her know he was there for her. It was all he could think to do, voicing the thoughts in his head wouldn’t help anyone and would likely be overstepping so he locked them within his heart. 

Mia’s eyes caught his and his brow wrinkled with concern. Mia’s eyes turned toward the ceiling as she fought back her own tears, breaking his heart for the two girls who had become central to his life. 

While Mia never wanted to see Ray again, she would have given anything for him to have been there for his daughter’s birthday. Sally mattered. Sally was important. Sally should have been his world, just like she was hers.

No matter how many times Mia was left sweeping up the pieces of her daughter’s shattered heart, Ray just didn’t seem to care. Mia was left helpless, no way to protect her daughter from the heartbreak without standing in the way of the relationship. 

Sally’s exhausted, red rimmed eyes peeked out from Mia’s shoulder after a while, her sobs died down into soft whimpers. They had stood there, Tom’s hand rubbing the little girl’s back while Mia rocked her. Her arms were tired and she couldn’t really feel one of her hands from below the wrist due to how she had locked them under Sally’s bottom to support her weight. Snot was smeared on Mia’s chest but she didn’t care. 

“I wish Tommy was my daddy,” Sally weakly whispered. 

The words caused Mia to clench her eyes shut. It hurt too much. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and traced a wet path down her cheek. 

“I know,” She whispered back, voice wavering as Sally spoke the wish made in her little heart as she blew out her birthday candles. The same fleeting wish Mia had, standing poolside. 

“Tommy wouldn’t…” Whatever she was going to say Tom wouldn’t do was lost to them. Her words trailed off as exhaustion, mental, physical and emotional all overtook her. 

“She’s asleep,” Tom whispered. 

Hs own voice was thick with emotions he could hardly put words to but clearly spoken by the watery look Mia saw in his eyes. This little girl was someone he didn’t even know existed this time last month and yet he wanted nothing more than to swear attendance to every birthday party, holiday and event if it would mean she never had to feel that way again.

But it wouldn’t do any good. He wasn’t her father. While they all may wish in the deepest parts of their hearts that he could simply swoop in and replace him, Tom knew it wasn’t that simple. No matter what happened, Sally would likely long for her father for the rest of her life. 

“Do you want me to take her?” Tom whispered, not trusting his voice for anything more. 

“No,” Mia also whispered, holding her heart tighter in her arms. “Can you get the door?” 

~~~~~<3

Mia closed the door to Sally’s room behind her and leaned against it for a moment. There was no way she could calm the raging sea of emotions coursing through her. 

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to throw things. She wanted to block Ray. She wanted to call him and demand answers. She wanted to demand Tom never leave. She wanted to demand he get it over with and leave. She wanted to kiss him. 

“Are you alright?” Tom had been waiting in the hallway as she set Sally in her bed and covered her back up. 

“No,” Rubbing her hands down her face she tried to gather her thoughts. “But I will be.” 

“What can I do?” Tom couldn’t help how helpless he felt. He didn’t care what it was he had to do, he wanted to fix this for her. Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, he would do it for her. 

“Leave?” Mia said unsure, not really thinking.

“I’m sorry?” 

“Just go. Get it over with.” Tears welled in Mia’s eyes. She couldn’t look at him as she walked past him. 

He grabbed her wrist as she passed, not allowing her to escape the conversation she had unintentionally started. Her words had struck him like a knife in the chest. It was a pain he could physically feel. 

 Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he proved himself yet? What more did she need from him to see? What would it take for her to trust him?

“No,” He said it harsher than he intended, then said it again softer. “Can’t you see?” 

“See what?” Mia weakly tugged at her trapped wrist, not having the energy to fight, not having the energy to try. 

“That I am not going anywhere. That I care. That I- That no matter what happens I will be there for her. I am not going to just be another man to walk out of her life, to throw her away, to throw either of you away.” There was so much more he wanted to say but his throat grew tight before he could get the words out. 

“Tom, just-” She rose her arm, trying to yank her wrist free with more effort this time. 

He kissed her then, holding her wrist firmly in the air. He didn’t know what was going to happen, he hadn’t thought it through. It was a impulsive action, lips on hers to silence the hurtful way she pushed him away again and again. 

He couldn’t put voice to it. There were no words for it just yet, at least none he could put together, that he was brave enough to put together. This way, maybe she would see it. Maybe she would feel all the things crashing inside him. 

At first, she was stiff as a board. He could feel the tension in her body through his hand around her wrist. But after a heartbeat, he felt her relax. 

“Please,” He pleaded, pulling a hair’s breath away, “Stop pushing me away.” 

His lips brushed against hers as he spoke. She could feel the shape of the words as each formed on his lips. Tears fell freely from her brown eyes, there was nothing she could do to contain them any longer. 

“Tom,” Her whimper of his name was cut off by his lips again against hers. 

This wasn’t alright. This wasn’t safe. She shouldn’t give in. Again and again she told herself theses things but his plea circled in her mind as his lips caressed hers. When his grip on her wrist slackened, her wrist slipped through his fingers. 

Then he was weaving his fingers through hers. His hand was warm against her palm, pushing the back of her hand and his fingers against the wall behind them. His arm was around her waist, holding her to him. 

When had it gotten there? She didn’t know. 

The cool wall pressed against her shoulders as she backed into it, unaware her feet had been moving in the slightest. 

Every action he took was carefully calculated to try to avoid hurting her and yet she had shot him every chance she had gotten. 

Her heart screamed at her. It screamed how she had been the biggest fool in the world. What use did she have fighting it, fighting him?

Tom willed himself to stop. There was nothing in the world he wanted more right then to keep his lips against hers. Every fiber of his being wanted to show her just how much he cared for her but he had to stop himself. 

This was already too much. If anything more happened, he was sure to scare her away. This had to be enough for her to see. She had to see him. She had to see his heart now. She had to see too much. He needed her to see him, even if she saw too much. 

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

She was breathing him in. He was everywhere. He surrounded her, arms on either side of her. She was wrapped around him, her leg clinging to his hips. He supported her, arm holding one thigh up and open. He was inside her, being welcomed into her most inner core. 

Through half lidded eyes, she struggled to focus on anything. The room spun thanks in part to the vast amount she had drank. Her brain felt like it was resting on a cloud, being pushed and pulled with every thrust into her.

He was in the very air she breathed. He was everywhere and everything. 

The soft panting moans falling from his parted lips were the most erotic sound she had heard in a very long time. They sent excitement through her veins. 

“More,” She whispered, wrapping her arm around his back, clinging to him.

Her fingers ran through the short curls on the back of his head, nails lightly scratching his scalp. Arching into him, she ran her hands along his sides and back.

“More.”

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite, @tinchentitri, @wizardcherryblossom, @buttercupcookies-blog, @violethaze, @kats72, @soulpiercing, @evedia, @princess-ofthe-pages

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hello! It’s Winter! Just keep reading.. trust me!

“I want a divorce” she slammed her hand on his desk. “I am finished! You and I are done!”

He couldn’t believe what she was saying. After one lousy fight, his wife of 15 years wanted out of their marriage. The pure shock & pain from her statement was unimaginable.

Emmanuel sunk into his leather chair. Was Brigitte really going to give up on him? On them?

He knew she had been under a lot of pressure lately - they both have - but dissolving their marriage wasn’t the solution. They had taken sacred vows. For better or for worse. They promised to love each other until death parted them.

Now, she was throwing it all away.

“Bri -

She cut him off. “You can’t talk your way out of this one! I sacrificed everything to marry you. I upset everyone. My own family members turned on me. I divorced my children’s father FOR you”

Emmanuel’s heart sank. Listening to everything was the equivalent of being stabbed in the chest repeatedly. He wasn’t even sure how their current argument started. One minute they were discussing their daily schedule, the next she was throwing accusations in his face.

“And another thing” Brigitte kicked the leg of his office chair. “You never loved me, and that’s a fact! You’re incapable of human emotions. The only time you’re in love is when you’re looking in a mirror!”

He had heard enough. “Brigitte! That’s not true and you know it! I’ve loved you for over 25 years! I’ve loved you since the moment I met you. I’ve been a wonderful and devoted husband, as well as a great father and grandfather to our children”

“Correction! MY children. You’re nothing to them. They won’t even miss you” Brigitte spat. “We’re better off without you in our lives”

After buttoning up her coat and slipping into her high heels, she hurried to the door. She needed to be far away from him.

“I’m going to my lawyer’s office right now. Be ready to sign. There will be no going back and forth. Give me what I want or I’ll sell you out to the tabloids. I’ll tell them all your deepest, darkest secrets. You’re a horrible husband… And an even worse human being”

After delivering the final blow, she slammed the door behind her.

Emmanuel bolted up, his heart racing out of his chest. He looked around the room but it was too dark to see anything. The clock on his iPhone indicated it was 3:32 am. He needed to breathe. His lungs felt heavy. All the oxygen had escaped.

“Cherie, what’s wrong?” Brigitte whispered. She had felt him stir next to her. “Why are you awake?”

With shaky hands, Emmanuel fumbled with his bedside lamp, failing a few times before eventually turning it on.

“Brigitte! You’re here!” He placed one hand over his heart while the other reached out to touch his wife. He had to make sure she was real.

She grew concerned. “Of course, I’m here. What’s going on?”

He snuggled up close to her. “I had a horrible dream. You…. You left me… and you said hurtful things. It was awful. Brigitte, it felt so real”

She rested her head on his chest and reassured him. “I’m not going anywhere. Trust me. You’re stuck with me, honey”

It took a few more minutes for his heart rate to settle back to normal. “I don’t know what I would do if you ever left me”

Sitting up, she kissed his lips. “I’m not leaving you. We made a commitment to each other. I love you, Emmanuel. Now, please, go back to bed.”

“Ok”. He planted a goodnight kiss on her nose. Eventually, he fell asleep possessively holding onto his wife.

He wasn’t letting her go. Ever.

Hellooo Winter! ❤️

Me going like “what the actual hell is going on” to “pheeewww it was just a nightmare”! Bless Manu, he got the scare of his life 🤧

Thank you so much, Winter! ❤️❤️❤️

[hahahahahangst]

My own Rihanna (Be The Young 21)

GIANT TW which will be valid for each episode for suicidal thoughts, self-h*rm, violence, cursing, relatives dying, mentions of s*x, s*xual assault

All chapter titles are song titles, some of them translated from Italian songs. We start from the first season and make out way through the series. I will break canon (mostly from the S2 finale) but will try to get back into it for the sake of ✨ lore ✨ .

Summary: Emily's life used to be normal. Until one day, her family died, leaving behind just one letter.

"After reading this whole letter, call John Winchester. [...] He’s your real father."

A/N: Yeah. I’m sorry for this one. And for the next one. Like... I’m sorry....

MASTERLIST

My own Rihanna

Everything ends, it’s not love but the fact we’re both hurt that keeps us together We were not two halves, we were two wholes And so we were incompatible together I didn’t love you like crazy, I went crazy to love you What am I supposed to demonstrate if you don’t even look at me We’re two monsters You spent more time being afraid of losing me than actually enjoying our time

Emily was unsure of how she ended up where she was. 

One day she woke up and she was in a house, in the middle of nowhere, with a lot of other people around who all seemed to have powers like hers. With no way of contacting her brothers, she had to take matters into her own hands and guide the very unlikely group of “chosen children'' that was formed in that abandoned city. She tried to pretend to be strong and not afraid, in control, but she was slowly spiraling, not having any idea of what they were up against or how to get out of there, especially as Ava grew more and more nervous and upset.

Sam joined them the following day. 

When she saw him appear in the room, she could do nothing but hug him. She could feel how scared he was, but there was also a hint of relief from finally finding her. It was good to have their power back and after weeks, it actually started feeling less weird and intrusive. It just became a fact that if they were feeling something intense, the other person would feel it too. 

On the night she was reunited with Sam, the yellow-eyed demon spoke to her in her dreams. He raved and raved about how much more powerful than everybody else she was, about how she should be the winner of his “contest“, because she was “special”.

“Technically, you’ve already won once.” He said, shrugging. “I just want to see if you can win again.”  Then, he showed her the night he chose her. 

“You see, getting all that blood out of me wasn’t easy. But I needed to see what would happen if I overpowered you. The other people in this town… they only got a couple of drops. More than enough to mess you up, but you and the rest of your group… Oh, the things you could have done.” 

“You know that demons lie of the time, right?” Said Sam as she talked to him about all this. They were walking outside the building, making sure nobody else had arrived and that they didn't have any unwanted guests. 

 “I know, but… what if it's true? I mean, Meg also mentioned it.”

“Maybe he's trying to put us against each other?”

“Yeah, maybe.” She exhaled. “Sam, I'm going to check on Ava, will you be okay out here?” 

The rest of the memories she had of that day were confused, scattered, but mostly painful. 

In any way possible. That was the last time she saw him alive.

Dean arrived too late. 

Emily had been trying to keep Sam alive for almost an hour. Everybody else was dead. Her knife was still in Jake, who Emily had repeatedly stabbed, screaming. He now laid on the ground, a pool of blood slowly soaking into the dirt. Everybody else was dead. It was just Emily.  

A pool of blood was also forming around Sam. All of Emily's attempts at keeping him alive were failing. 

“Don't worry Sam, you'll be alright, I am sure Dean will be here soon and he will know what to do.” She kept whispering as she covered his wound with one hand and tried to keep his heart beating with the other one. “He’ll know what to do.” She said, “He will save you.” There was nothing to do. Sam had been stabbed from side to side. There was no way of keeping the blood inside of him. Emily knew it.

She knew he was dead. He had been for a while. His heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped working. The blade went through his spine. The bottom half of her body and her forearms were completely covered in blood, the border between hers, Sam's and Jake's becoming indistinguishable the more it dried on her. 

When she heard Dean's voice, she had already given up. She was kneeling next to Sam, her head on his chest, squeezing his lifeless hand. She wasn’t even crying anymore, her voice lost in all the screaming she had already done.

She did not dare to talk. She drove back by herself, trying to keep up with Dean's reckless turns and speed. When they got back at Bobby's, she looked at Dean from a distance. 

She knew perfectly well that a small word, a breath too loud, would ignite a fight she did not want to have. Not then, not there.

Not anymore.

Sam was dead because of her. Because of her distraction.

She left him alone. She should have never left him alone. It was all her fault. 

She thought it and she was sure Dean thought it too. 

Nobody spoke for the rest of the night. Emily sat on the couch, looking at Dean's every move. She tried to cry as quietly as possible. 

She didn't wash her body or her clothes, the stench of the dried blood perpetually making its way into her lungs. 

The fried chicken Bobby brought back remained untouched. 

Emily dared to move only when she saw Dean opening up the second whiskey bottle of the night. She stood up, pretending to be confident and holding her breath to stop her sobbing. She walked to the table and slid the bottle away from Dean’s hands. Emily poured herself a big glass of whiskey and tentatively sat down next to Dean. 

He briefly looked at her, but didn't say anything. 

Emily looked at Sam's body. All she wanted was for him to pop up into her head and say something witty and wise, something along the lines of “you should talk with Dean, it will help”. Something that, she was sure, would have annoyed her. 

“Dean, I-” She tried to say.

“Shut up.” He immediately interrupted her, his knuckles whitening as he held his glass a little tighter. 

Emily looked at him. What was she thinking, sitting there like that? How could she ever even think for a split second of being normal siblings for one day? She stood up, nervous. “Okay, I'll-” she started, taking one step towards the main room. 

“GOD DAMMIT I SAID SHUT UP, NOT LEAVE!” Yelled Dean, grabbing her from her wrist and making Emily stop in the middle of the step, startled. She looked over to him, tears already filling her eyes. Dean let go of her wrist as if it was made of fire. “Sorry- Just… just sit down. Please.” His voice was filled with regret.

Emily made her way back to her chair. She took a deep breath. 

It's not a good time to fight.

It's not a good time to cry. 

She kept repeating in her mind. 

A couple hours of silence later, Bobby showed up again, with the same, cold, soggy chicken he had already offered them twice. 

They refused in unison. 

“You should eat something.” He said. Emily was trying to find a polite way to send him his way, but Dean had, of course, other plans. 

“I said I am fine.” He said, sharp. 

“Dean, I hate to bring this up, I really do,“ he said, putting down the chicken. Emily tried to signal him to stop, already knowing what he wanted to ask, but he either didn't see or ignored her. “But don't you think maybe it's time… we bury Sam?” 

A window basically exploded on Emily's right. Nobody even questioned or reacted to it, but Emily knew full well it was her. It wasn’t the first time she was having trouble controlling her powers when she was upset. 

“No.” Simply said Dean, going back to his glass of whiskey. 

“Maybe we could…“ 

“What? Torch his corpse? Not yet.” 

The glass in Emily's hand exploded, cutting her. She was only able to mutter a slight profanity before Bobby spoke again. “I want you to come with me, I don't think you should be alone.”

“I'm not alone, Emily is here.”

“Right, so instead of killing yourself, you kill each other? How is that of any help?” Dean stood up, but Emily immediately grabbed his jacket and dragged him back down. Surprisingly, he opposed no resistance and just fell back onto the chair. 

“Bobby, just go, okay? We'll be fine.” Said Emily, firmly holding Dean's forearm. The old man took two steps to the side of the door, so that only Emily could see him, and signaled her to come. She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her, Dean scowling at her every step. 

“Listen, something is going down. Something apocalyptic. I could use your help.”

“Bobby, no. You are right, Dean shouldn’t be here alone. We'll be fine. Really. You go.” The man patted her shoulder and left. Emily went back in the room and sat next to Dean, who was sniffing and hiding his face. 

All of a sudden, Emily remembered what Sam said to her in the hospital, when Dean was dying. “Just do it.” 

It took her a big dose of courage, she wasn't even sure why it was so hard, but she finally put her hand on Dean's shoulder. At first, he seemed startled. He froze under the touch. But after a handful of seconds, she felt his body relax slightly and he put his own hand on hers. 

For a split second she thought that maybe… everything was going to be okay. 

When night arrived, the yellow-eyed demon appeared in front of her. She stood up, alarmed. Dean stayed exactly where he saw and when Emily checked again, she noticed that her body did too. It was like a weird dream. 

She instinctively pointed her gun at the demon. He smiled.

“Howdy, Emily.” 

She didn't answer, but kept pointing the gun at him, conscious that it would have done nothing. “You wanna put that away?” 

He stood there, silently, until Emily finally lowered her gun. “Congratulations, by the way. You are the last man standing. Again.”

“Bite me.” She said, bitter. 

“Oh come on, don't be like that. I was rooting for you!” 

“Did you at least have fun?” She snapped. “Was it really necessary? For Sam to die?” 

“I needed the strongest and I didn't want to settle for the silver medal. I want the golden champion, and that's you.”

“What do you even need me for?” 

“Oh, I got a laundry list of things for you to do…“

“Yeah right. As if I would follow any of your orders.”

“What are you going to do, kill me?”

“I don't know, I might.”

“You have failed once, what makes you think you would succeed this time?” He smirked. “Besides… If you help me, I'll help you.” He said. Pointing at Sam. 

“Define… help.” 

“I might bring your brother back. Imagine… all would be forgiven. Your brother Dean, you secretly idolize him, don't you?” Emily scoffed. “Darling, no need to lie to me, I see inside of you. Just imagine- He would forgive you for letting Sam die like this. Maybe… Maybe he might also tell you that he's proud of you. He might be just like the Dean you dreamt about in the djinn’s hallucination.” 

Emily swallowed, staring at Dean's frozen image, crying over his brother. 

She knew it was not a good idea, but it was still an idea. The only one she had all night.

If she could bring Sam back, all would have been forgiven, all would have been solved. 

“What do I need to do?” She asked. 

Emily closed her eyes one second too long and fell asleep. When she opened them again, Dean was not next to her anymore. She ran out of the kitchen doors and saw him about to leave. 

“Going somewhere?” She asked. 

“I-'' Dean tried to speak, but was interrupted by the door slamming behind him. That time, Emily did it on purpose, because she had seen what he had in his hand. She made sure she also made the key turn and flew directly in her hand. “What is that?!” He pointed at the metal box he was holding.

“None of your business.” He spat. 

Emily quickly walked over to him. “I have read every single book in this room, you think I don’t recognize it?” She said, enraged. “You are selling your soul, aren’t you?'

“It's my soul, I can do whatever I want with it.” 

“You sick…“ spat Emily, pushing Dean against the wall, adding a new adjective to each step. ”... unaffectionate, egoistic bastard.” Dean let the box fall when he finally hit the wall. Emily kicked it behind her. “Have you already forgotten how it felt when dad did the same for you?!” 

“You really don't understand, do you?!” 

“I don't-'' She repeated, exasperated, closing her left hand into a fist as she kept Dean pinned against the wall with the other one “What am I supposed to do, uh?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Just watch you kill yourself? The grip she had on him was getting so tight she lifted him a couple of inches off the ground.

“Honestly? I don't care.” He said, cold. Emily punched him. He barely reacted. She hit him again, bursting into tears immediately after. “Is this how much you really care about me?” She said, “What am I supposed to do once you die?” 

“You can go back to Portland and live your dream life, I don’t really care.”. Emily could not resist the urge of punching him yet again. 

“What about you stop trying to kill yourself?” She yelled. “The virus thing first, now this! What on earth has happened to you?”  

“Emily, you are the only thing standing between me and a world where Sam is not dead.”

“I swear to god“ Emily pushed Dean further into the wall, which she heard crack under the pressure. ”... you will have to step over my dead body to get out that door.” 

“Don’t… challenge me.” Emily threw Dean away from the wall and pushed him on the floor. 

“So that’s it, uh?” She said, trying her best to not get interrupted by her sobbing, which was slowly closing down her nose. “You’d rather have me dead than having to spend the rest of your life alone with me?” She tried to kick him in the stomach but only managed to get to his shins. “So much for being my brother.” Emily turned her back to her brother and leaned towards the window next to the door. She placed her head on the cold glass as she heard her brother stand back up. “Dean, there has to be another way!” 

“There isn’t.” 

“DID YOU EVEN TRY LOOKING?!” She yelled, turning to push him towards the opposite wall. His gaze suddenly turned to anger. “Or did you just go with the most self destructive solution of them all?” She was expecting a punch. She stared at him for a couple of seconds before starting to yell again. “LOOK AT YOU! Goddamit, Dean, I have been hitting you for ten minutes and you haven’t even reacted yet!”

“Don’t-” 

“STOP - TALKING!” She said, punching the wall next to Dean’s head. “The Dean I know would have punched me already- I SAID SHUT UP!” She screamed as he saw him opening his mouth again. “I DON’T NEED YOU TO TAKE ALL MY PUNCHES, I NEED MY BROTHER!”

“I AM NOT YOUR BROTHER!” He finally snapped back. Emily’s body froze for a second, a window exploded and only then, she let go of him. Her face turned emotionless. 

It was all for nothing. 

She had been suffering for years, trying to bond, listening to Sam saying “You just need to get over the fear of getting attached to each other“ and trying to believe it, all for someone who didn’t even consider her family. 

“Right.” She whispered, drying her face. “Of course. How could I ever think something like that.” She took the key to the door out of her jeans pocket and threw it on the table. 

“You know what?” She continued, not even trying to hide her crying anymore. “Have it your way. Kill yourself. I don’t care anymore.” She swallowed the actual words she wanted to say. Just be my brother. I care about you. I can’t be alone right now. Don’t let me walk out that door. Please care about me.

She opened the door. 

Just say something. 

A word. 

Just one. 

Give me one reason to stay.

“It’s all your fault.” 

Definitely not the words Emily wanted to hear. 

She left the house and sat in the same stolen car she had used to go back there. 

She drove to Fall Parks and sat on a bench. 

That was it. 

That was the night she was going to kill herself. 

She had nothing left to live for. 

“Now, now, don’t be like that.” Said a voice next to her, startling her. The demon had appeared next to Emily. “I am sure it’s nothing bringing back Sam can’t fix.” He smiled suggestively. 

“No. I am not helping you.” 

“What are you going to do then?” 

“None of your business.” 

“Oh, come on, I am literally the only person who would talk to you right now.” He looked at her, sympathetically. 

“Very funny. Can you leave?” 

“I was thinking…“ he started, completely ignoring her request. “If you are about to kill yourself, why not die while trying to get your brother back? Maybe Dean could change his mind about you not being part of the family.” Emily finally met his yellow gaze. “Of course, bringing back Sam would be something so big… Dean would have no choice than to love you back, right? Damn, he might even start worrying about you just like he does for Sam.” 

Emily was unsure. Did she really want to have anything to do with Dean anymore? 

All she wanted for all of it to stop. To never have to worry about that again. 

To take a sharp object and trace a long, vertical line on her forearm. One that would last forever. 

“Emily, the life you have always dreamed about, the one where Dean always eats your pie and hugs you when you are down, the life where you are not the family disappointment… The key to get that is just to bring Sam back.” She swallowed, trying to rationalize what he was saying. “You would become Dean’s favorite. He would never dare to hurt you ever again.” 

Fuck it.

“Okay. I am in.”

[cleo-fox]

Okay, so: I read this a little while ago and was like "this is beautiful and emotionally devastating, I need to think about what I want to say because GOD DAMN."

I'll put the rest of this under the cut for spoilers, but in short: everyone should read this.

The way that you set the opening scene for this is masterful. I especially loved this part:

Though no one admitted it, the truth could be found in the silence between the discordant rhythms of beeping monitors and the hissing ebb and flow of the ventilator, none of which ever aligned to the ticking of the clock on the wall. Amidst the shuffle of muted footsteps and hushed conversation in the outside corridor, the truth echoed within sterile infirmary walls. It scrawled itself along the monitors filled with vital signs that crept further and further towards demise, numbers and lines blurring together as time passed. 

Right away, you establish a hugely strong sense of the stakes for Theo, but what I especially love is how all of the relationships between the characters play out in that space of fear and anxiety. It is challenging to establish rich and complex character dynamics straight out of the gate, but by gum, you've done it.

And Loki. First of all: 😭😭😭. Second of all:

“Do you truly wish for my magic to strike the killing blow?” Loki slammed his fist against the table, stunning the others into silence. Every muscle in his body wound itself tight with tension as he struggled to maintain any semblance of respect for those who asked him to commit such a horrific act. “You ask of me the impossible; my seidr would be the last touch of life she feels before she is thrust into a painful, cruel death. How could I live with that?”  His voice betrayed him, breaking as he asked the question; with it, he felt his carefully composed mask begin to crack. The heat which built behind his eyes spilled over, seeing nothing but burning red as his cheeks grew wet. Before the others could comment, he turned away and wiped his eyes, forcing a glamour for just long enough to hide his slip in composure.

This moment is so powerful and so, so, so devastating. You really feel his grief and part of the reason his grief is so compelling is because it feels authentic to his character. Even in that moment when he's showing so much anger and sadness, he's still hiding the true extent of his pain. And like: that's Loki, right? Even when the mask slips, it doesn't. There's always a little more that he's hidden away. UGH, MY HEART. And the Coney Island bit?!? Do not get me started on the Coney Island bit.

Anyway: this chapter repeatedly stabbed me in the heart and then backed over it with a semi-truck (this is a compliment, I promise), and I'm really looking forward to starting at the beginning of this and seeing how we got to here (and how we get out).

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 1: It's Still Not Quite the Way It Was

Author's Notes: We've made it to the posting of chapter 1! Each chapter has a corresponding song, noted (and linked) at the beginning of the chapter; the italic paragraphs between sections are lyrics from the corresponding song. After this chapter it'll make sense, I promise 😉

This is multi-chapter friends-to-lovers, angst with a happy ending fic. Full synopsis/masterlist can be found here (and read on AO3 here)!

Content Warnings for this Chapter: Medical whump, near-death experience, description of serious injuries. Angst for dayssss. If @loki-cees-all and @infinitystoner are to be believed, you might want kleenex. It gets much lighter after this (for a while, at least), I swear!

Word Count: 5,217

It’s Still Not Quite The Way It Was

Song: Hospital - Lydia

So I’ve been sleeping with  This silence in my mind And all I see scares me And no one knows it but she– She saved me

It was a reality that Loki could no longer ignore: they were running out of time. 

After hours hunched over in vigil, he sat up a bit taller in the stiff plastic chair that could have doubled as a torture device, stretching aching muscles and sore joints that had yet to recover from a battle unlike any the god had ever seen. Raking one hand through unkempt curls, he bit back a snarl when a passerby glanced into the cramped infirmary room and made the mistake of locking eyes with the Asgardian prince. 

Perhaps he ought to be proud of himself for the restraint; hardly thirty minutes prior, he allowed the tempest within him to take control, unleashing his worst upon his elder brother. It was not fair to Thor - everyone was reeling from the aftermath of what transpired, and though Thor may not have been as intertwined with the very heart of the matter, the repercussions impacted him too.

But Loki? 

He was not merely impacted by the fallout; it tore his world asunder.

Before him, the harsh reminder of the upheaval endured over the three days prior laid unconscious, reliant on Midgardian medicine and machinery to give her a fighting chance at survival. 

Not an inch of Theo had been spared from suffering. The blood, the dust, and the grime of battle had long been washed off of her body; now, her wounds were covered with pristine, crisp white bandages. Swaths of jagged, indigo bruises marred her otherwise ghostly complexion, which appeared more sallow under the harsh infirmary lights. Sweat poured off her skin and soaked her hair. Half-open, glassy yet clouded eyes seemed to stare right through Loki as if he wasn’t there. One eye sported a bruise, swollen and tender, beneath it. 

The sheer volume of wires and tubing connected to her body gave the appearance of a puppet. Multiple intravenous lines were placed in her arms and collarbone. Wires under her shirt collar and a sensor clipped to her index finger provided vital signs. Tubes trailed down her mouth and nose to provide oxygen and sustenance. 

And yet, it had become clear that no machine, no medicine would be enough to save her from the eldritch infection that tore through her side. 

Though no one admitted it, the truth could be found in the silence between the discordant rhythms of beeping monitors and the hissing ebb and flow of the ventilator, none of which ever aligned to the ticking of the clock on the wall. Amidst the shuffle of muted footsteps and hushed conversation in the outside corridor, the truth echoed within sterile infirmary walls. It scrawled itself along the monitors filled with vital signs that crept further and further towards demise, numbers and lines blurring together as time passed. 

Scattered across the room, stacks of ancient tomes failed to provide any insight or solution. Loki was supposedly the most powerful sorcerer in the nine realms, yet he could do nothing to help. The Scarlet Witch, with chaos magic at her fingertips, was helpless in the face of this affliction, as was the Sorcerer Supreme. Even Vision, who had the power of the mind stone and held the full knowledge of all of Midgard, was useless to stop the spread.

It was the subject of taboo: they were running out of time. 

This affliction was unlike anything they’d ever encountered. Then again, Theo was unlike anyone Loki had ever encountered. 

Leaning forward once more, he carefully enveloped her pale, cold hand in both of his.

“Cheating death is my forté, not yours. Healing is your forté, darling.” He said to the perfectly still form before him. “Forcing a reversal of roles was not a wise decision. I imagine you would know how to cure this malady; one of the many secrets tucked away in that memory of yours.” 

One of many secrets that until recently, were incomprehensible to the God of Trickery.

“It is rather ironic, isn’t it?” Loki said, brows furrowed as he focused on Theo’s face. “The most powerful healer in millennia, one who rivals that of myth - unable to save herself.”

The steady, incessant beeping of a monitor above the head of the bed echoed through the room, reminding Loki that his scolding fell upon deaf ears. No response was expected, but that did not mean the silence stung any less.

“If I could, I would admonish you thoroughly for such a reckless decision.” He continued, “You have done no less to me, dove, and they say turnabout is fair play.” 

The late hour, though hauntingly still, brought the assurance that any further visitors were unlikely.  Perhaps a nurse might pause and glance into the room, but the rounds which took place in the dead of night were less frequent than during waking hours. 

Solitude was rare - between the steady stream of medical professionals and visitors paying what very well might be their final respects, it was perhaps the second time since Loki’s life was violently upended in which he had a moment to himself. Theo - or, who Loki believed Theo to be - was well-loved on Midgard, so perhaps it was little surprise that her imminent demise affected so many.

Most were oblivious to the truth - that the woman they had come to love was little more than a lie. Yet, he did not have the heart to reveal such information; though he held a multitude of emotions regarding the situation, he could respect it was not his place to say anything.

Getting lost in the ebb and flow of breathing was easy - it certainly made it easier to lose track of time. With each rise and every fall of Theo’s chest, Loki committed it to memory, unwilling to admit to himself that it might be her last. 

“Feeling any better now?”

Loki’s attention snapped to the doorway, where Maximoff leaned against the frame. Loose copper strands fell from a disheveled ponytail, framing pursed lips and a furrowed brow. She crossed her arms crossed over her chest, the sleeves of her hooded sweatshirt shoved up to her elbows as almost an afterthought. 

“You seem more calm,” she continued, pressing herself up and stepping further into the room. “Did yelling at Thor make you feel any better?”

Loki rolled his eyes and with a huff, settled back into his chair. “He sent you, didn’t he?”

“He’s worried.” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth, bloodshot eyes flitting towards Theo. “We’re all worried.” 

Of the many words the silvertongue wished to say, they all vanished the moment he opened his mouth to speak. Unable to provide a retort, Loki simply glowered at the Scarlet Witch.

“She loves you.”

Loves, present tense, as if Theo was not on the precipice of death.

Loki scoffed. “And how would you know?”

“Because she’s the one in that bed, and not you. You love her too; if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

“One cannot love something which they do not know.” He muttered, shifting around in his seat for the umpteenth time as he sought out a tolerable position for sitting.

He had been foolish enough to love her, for all the good it had done either of them. Her, on her deathbed, and him, left to reconcile the woman he thought he knew with the woman she truly was.

Though he had averted his gaze, Loki felt the heat of Maximoff’s disappointed stare.

“Spare me your pity, witch.” 

The sigh which Maximoff replied with was akin to how a mother might respond to a petulant child. “Look, you need a shower, and some water. Sleep, ideally. Food if you’re feeling like an overachiever.” The hint of concern which wove itself into her tone only added to the festering unease within Loki’s chest. She turned on her heel, making as if to leave; however, she lingered in the doorway, twisting to face Loki one final time. 

“We’re here for you, you know… Even when you’re being a jerk,” She murmured, amber eyes glistening as she met Loki’s bitter gaze. “... Maybe especially then.”

The soft padding of feet in the hall grew faint as Maximoff departed, leaving Loki alone to face the painful truth:

They were running out of time.

So I’ve been sleeping with  This silence in my brain, my brain I wake up every day In this goddamn place But I won’t wait here anymore

Stepping outside of Theo’s infirmary room reminded Loki of what it must feel like for an animal to be released from its cage. Granted, an animal would likely relish the newfound freedom, even if it was only temporary. On the contrary, Loki dreaded such ventures.

Leaving Theo’s side was unavoidable - it was required for examinations and procedures, as well as basic elements of care like bathing and changing bandages. This particular instance was the result of the medical staff calling everyone together for a conference regarding Theo’s prognosis, as if there was anything to discuss. Everyone knew what the future held; discussing the inevitability of demise seemed rather pointless.

… Not that Loki had much choice in the matter.

Though he had no desire to be present, his pride refused to allow him to reveal the precarious state he lingered in. A quick glamour gave the impression that he maintained full control of his composure by obscuring wrinkled clothing, tangled curls, and the permanent crease between his brows that came from a deep-set frown. Only artificial light filled the corridor, casting a sickly glow on all who occupied the space.

Those who walked past him in the hall provided a wide berth, reminding him of his earliest days among the team known as Earth’s mightiest heroes, when treading on eggshells around the Asgardian prince was standard protocol. It was just as well - Loki was entirely prepared to snarl at anyone who dared draw near. Approaching the conference room door, Loki could make out hushed voices engaged in tense conversation.

“Have you talked to him?” 

“I… yeah.” 

“And?”

Before Maximoff could answer, Loki forced a cough and stepped across the threshold.

Dr. Harper and Maximoff both whipped around, eyes wide as saucers at the sight of the obvious subject of their discussion. Scattered about the room, the rest of the Avengers, along with Dr. Cho, had packed themselves into the rather claustrophobic space. Some sat in leather-backed chairs around the table, while the rest leaned against the walls with expressions ranging from confusion to displeasure.

“Loki, good - you’re here.” Dr. Cho said, flashing her best attempt at a placating smile as she clasped her hands together. “Now we can get started.”

“Yes, please do share what could be so important to necessitate the abandonment of other responsibilities and gather in this prison cell of a conference room.” Loki snipped, crossing his arms and ignoring the disappointed glare that Thor flashed at him.

Dr. Harper glanced at Romanoff as she drew in a deep, cautious breath. “Max figured out what the magic is that’s infecting Theo.”

Stunned silence permeated through the room; only the ticking of the wall clock gave the indication that time had not come to a standstill. Around the room, nervous glances accompanied mouths which hung slightly agape. Loki waited expectantly for a follow up, some sign that there was a positive outcome to the conversation or additional information. 

When none came, Loki steeled himself to ask the question which lingered in the darkest corners of his mind: “What good does that do if there is no means to reverse it?”

“That’s why we called you all here—“ Undeterred by Loki’s cynical inquiry, Dr. Cho replied, only to be interrupted by Maximoff. 

“You’re saying there may be a cure?” Something between hope and desperation seeped through her question; Loki could not ignore the stutter of his pulse at the prospect, though he quickly tamped it down.

“According to Max,” Romanoff interjected. She leaned back in her seat, legs crossed as if this were simply another mission briefing and not the life of an Avenger in the balance. “From what he gathered, there are documents with the information about how to remove whatever this is. Last he heard, they were stolen… by Theo.”

“Then what are we doing here?” Barnes leaned forward, tapping vibranium fingers clinking against the steel table. “She already has what we’re looking for.”

“That’s the problem—“ Rogers spoke from the head of the room, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Dark circles beneath his eyes and a five-o’clock shadow revealed the toll the recent events took on the captain. “We’ve searched her entire suite and can’t find them anywhere.”

Romanoff leaned forward once more, resting her elbow on her knees. “Tony has FRIDAY reviewing the security footage—“ 

“Not that it does any good if she never took the documents out of her room.” Stark cut off Romanoff, massaging his temples with both hands. Somehow, the engineer appeared to be even more sleep deprived than usual.

“Assuming that’s the case, she would have known where they were stored, right?” Dr. Banner chimed in, sounding unnervingly calm given the circumstances.

“Even if she did, it’s not like she can tell us,” Wilson interrupted, shaking his head. “She can’t even breathe right now.”

“...Maybe she doesn’t need to.” Dr. Banner replied, adding on a thoughtful hum. 

“What?” Belova piped up from beside her sister, mirroring the elder Widow’s posture; however, unlike the stoic expression which Romanoff maintained, Belova openly wore her confusion.

“We do have two people who can read minds…” Dr. Banner glanced between Loki and Maximoff, silently dragging the pair of sorcerers into the fray.

Combing through the memories of another was something Loki would not give a second thought in his younger years; if he could access the memory, he assumed he was entitled to know. 

Yet, after the Mad Titan and the void, he had no interest in the act. The vulnerability of having one’s mind scoured brought an ominous chill to Loki; though he was uncertain of his feelings towards Theo, he had no desire to cause her to feel violated, even if she had withheld such vital information.

“Absolutely not.” Loki crossed his arms and stood a bit taller, fiercely shaking his head with feigned determination. “I refuse.”

“You’re afraid.” Stark cocked a brow at Loki, nodding as if he understood the sorcerer’s motivations.

“Why would I be afraid?” Loki snapped, glowering at Stark for daring to leverage such an accusation.

Stark rolled his eyes, then leaned forward in his chair while locking eyes with Loki. “Because you don’t know what else you might find?” 

“Hardly,” he scoffed, “I simply doubt it would be a fruitful venture.”

“Wanda, what about you?” 

“I don’t know…” The witch hesitated, frowning as her attention skittered around the room. “Are you sure you know what you’re asking me to do? It’s pretty invasive.”

“Would she know if you tried?” Parker frowned, arms crossed while one leg bounced incessantly, contradicting the rhythm of the clock.

“I don’t think so.” Maximoff shook her head. “But would you want someone digging through your thoughts and learning all your secrets?”

“We’re out of options,” Romanoff pointed out. “Shuri and Bruce haven’t been able to replicate this thing, and if we do nothing she’ll die. I think, all things considered, she could forgive you for invading her privacy.”

A tense silence fell over the room; outside, muffled footsteps and assorted announcements reminded everyone that while they dithered over the subject, time continued to pass - time which they did not have.

If anything, perhaps having one of the sorcerers search the suite would be more useful - if Theo had some sort of magical ward placed on the space to hide the documents, they would be able to detect it.

“Okay,” Maximoff’s agreement, though quiet, rang clear. “I’ll try - I mean, it can’t hurt, right?”

Rather than argue, Loki held his tongue and prayed the witch would be right. 

Oh, no one is watching now Sing like you just might drown But always come back for air

Though he dreaded what he might see, Loki could not resist the curiosity of what might transpire at Maximoff’s attempt to enter Theo’s mind. 

Two hours after the meeting, everyone gathered to witness what was hailed as the only way Theo’s life could be saved. There was a certain buzz, an almost frenetic hum to the space. Doctors and nurses stood by, ready to act, as if Midgardian healers would be able to do anything in the face of magical destruction. 

Loki stationed himself near the door, leaning against the wall with arms crossed while watching the scene before him with open skepticism. His position allowed for a clear view once they began, yet kept him out of the traffic patterns as others moved about the space.

Meanwhile, Maximoff positioned herself at Theo’s bedside. As she waited for instructions, she carried a certain heaviness in the slump of her shoulders and the crease of her brow that Loki hadn’t seen in some time. The Scarlet Witch might have been the more optimistic of the sorcerers, but she too understood the gravity of the situation before them. 

A roiling, churning sense of dread pitted itself in Loki’s stomach, swelling as the anticipation increased. He hadn’t noticed that the rest of the room had drawn to a standstill until Dr. Cho made the announcement:

“Wanda, we’re ready when you are.” 

Worrying her lower lip between her teeth, Maximoff nodded, then turned her attention to Theo. She leaned over the bed, hands hovering just beyond Theo’s temples as tendrils of translucent crimson energy curled and disappeared beneath Theo’s skin. Maximoff closed her eyes, lips downturned as she focused her attention on the task at hand.

All hell broke loose.

Alarms erupted while a horde of doctors and nurses swarmed the bed. Despite her many injuries, Theo thrashed about on the bed, back arching and hands clawing at the sheets with a face twisted in anguish. Despite the tube down Theo’s throat, Loki swore he saw her lips twitching in a cry for help. 

A panicked glance at the monitor revealed a mess of flashing crimson numbers glaring at Loki, taunting him with how foolish this entire scheme was.

Cry as she might, nothing they could do - nothing he could do - would be of any help. 

The realization rendered Loki unable to fight as a Midgardian pushed him away, while another grasped his arm and dragged him through the threshold and into the hall. 

Though forced from the room, Loki plastered himself against the glass door in a futile attempt to remain close. He caught a glimpse of her body falling limp against the bed, not moving whatsoever; meanwhile, discordant shouting and alarms slipped beneath the door.  A scarlet glow reflected from the monitors onto the crowd surrounding Theo, casting a menacing air on the scene as it unfolded. The doctors and nurses moved with a brisk, detached precision, as if oblivious to the knowledge that Loki’s love balanced on a knife’s edge.

Just when he thought the situation could not worsen any further, a nurse noticed Loki. She remained stone-faced as she yanked the curtain closed, fully obscuring his view. 

Elaborate possibilities of terrible outcomes spun through his traitor of a mind. Every footstep echoing down the hall felt akin to the Hela and Fenris approaching. The sound of monitors spilling from other patients’ rooms was the countdown prior to a bomb detonating. He hardly realized when his knees gave out and he sank to the floor, blocking out his surroundings before he could spiral further. 

A lifetime and a moment passed all at once, Loki sitting with his back against the wall and knees against his chest, palms pressed to his eyes in a pathetic attempt to stop any further tears. He may as well have been nothing more than a child, pitifully helpless to stop the slow dirge that accompanied mortality. Theo’s final moments would be spent in a hurricane of chaos and fear, devoid of any form of comfort or meaningful companionship.

“Loki?”

The internal debate of whether to remain in the purgatory of the unknown or face a truth that might very well be Hel stopped Loki from immediately reacting. The tone offered little indication of the outcome, increasing Loki’s hesitancy to respond.

“Loki.” The repetition was firm; enough so that he realized that there was no ignoring whatever was about to come.

He drew a deep breath and braced himself for the worst before lifting his head. 

Dr. Harper stood before him, offering him a hand and a weak smile. “She’s still here - gave us a bit of a scare, but she’s hanging in there.” 

Relief washed over Loki, though it was short-lived at best. 

Theo couldn’t leave him - not like this. He would not - he could not allow it.

Then again… what could he do to stop it?

‘Cause I never got to  See you once more, no I guess that’s all I wanted I guess that’s all I needed

“Brother, please - you must try.” Thor all but begged his younger brother, trailing behind Loki’s relentless pace like a puppy chasing its master. 

In the same cramped conference room where the idea of entering Theo’s mind was initially entertained, those who had not yet given up hope of rescue gathered to discuss the best path forward.

“In such reckless desperation to save her, all that has been done is hasten her demise.” Loki snarled, “And yet, you continue to believe that such barbaric methods could reap any benefit! Has she not suffered enough?”

“We would try something else if we had another option,” Barnes pointed out, aggressively massaging where vibranium connected with flesh. “but we don’t. It sucks, but it’s our best shot.”

“I doubt it would prove successful,” Loki muttered, bravado giving away to bitterness; another reminder that being among the most powerful sorcerers of the nine realms was of no value; for all the magic in the world, he was useless. “If Maximoff could not break past the wards in her mind, what makes you believe I would be capable?”

“Isn’t there something about the power of love?” Whether Stark was serious or facetious was difficult to ascertain; regardless, Loki found both possibilities to be utterly infuriating. “True love conquers all, yada-yada fairytale sort of thing?”

“That is nothing more than myth,” Loki hissed, blood boiling at such an insolent proposition. “There is no evidence to indicate it would make any difference in such matters.” 

“Loki, please–”

“Do you truly wish for my magic to strike the killing blow?” Loki slammed his fist against the table, stunning the others into silence. Every muscle in his body wound itself tight with tension as he struggled to maintain any semblance of respect for those who asked him to commit such a horrific act. “You ask of me the impossible; my seidr would be the last touch of life she feels before she is thrust into a painful, cruel death. How could I live with that?” 

His voice betrayed him, breaking as he asked the question; with it, he felt his carefully composed mask begin to crack. The heat which built behind his eyes spilled over, seeing nothing but burning red as his cheeks grew wet. Before the others could comment, he turned away and wiped his eyes, forcing a glamour for just long enough to hide his slip in composure.

When he returned his attention to the others, Thor stared at him as if he saw through Loki’s tricks. “Brother, can you live with yourself if you try nothing?”  

“There must be another way.” Loki implored, clenching his jaw to stop the trembling of his lower lip. He let out a tense breath, raking one hand through what had become unkempt, tangled curls. “Something we’ve not yet tried–”

“Fine - if you won’t try, maybe you can make yourself useful and go through her laptop.” Romanoff’s own carefully composed mask of indifference began to slip, allowing the faintest hint of tension to show in the manner in which she scrubbed her face with her hands.  

“What exactly do you presume I will find?” Loki drawled, though he accepted the device when Rogers held it out to him. 

Romanoff massaged her temples, her frustration more openly on display. “We won’t know until you look, will we?” 

Try as he might, Loki could not conjure a counterpoint.

Not long after, Loki sat in the torture chamber of an infirmary room, staring at Theo’s laptop before him. Searching through files seemed like a fruitless task, however he could at least acknowledge that it might prove more beneficial than other means of research.

Unlocking the device was simple; such a task could be completed in his sleep. However, the image that greeted him upon entering the password triggered a memory so painful that Loki nearly slammed the damned contraption shut and banished it into another plane. 

It was a picture of Theo and Loki, from the day he took her to Coney Island. They were at the top of the ferris wheel, with a view of the city in the background as the sunset stretched across the sky. It was relatively early in her tenure as an Avenger - in need of an opportunity to destress, Loki suggested they spend an afternoon at the amusement park. 

By the time they boarded the ferris wheel, Loki’s sides ached from the endless laughter between them. Theo’s cheeks flushed the faintest pink from sunburn, but the sparkle in her ocean eyes told him that the adventure was worth the slight discomfort. He remembered how she pestered him to take the photo because he had longer arms, and how at the last moment Theo wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer to her, causing him to laugh in surprise right as he took the picture.

Everything had been so simple then; what he would have sacrificed to go back to that moment and linger there eternally.

Rather than casting the laptop aside, the desire for connection pushed Loki to see what else he might find. He methodically worked his way through the files, searching folder by folder for anything that might have even the slightest connection to the predicament before them. Hours passed as he worked through the multitude of files, the motivation from earlier replaced with hopelessness as he failed to find anything that might be useful moving forward.

After he closed the final document, a different folder caught his eye.

Titled “Covers,” inside were the recordings of the many songs which Theo performed her own renditions of and shared online. The files dated back to approximately when she began her role as an Avenger, covering a variety of styles and genres of music.

In a way, looking through her music felt like he was reading her diary: intimate, vulnerable, and candid. But he also knew that this was the closest he would get to easing the ache of not being able to talk to her, to apologize endlessly for his foolishness, to understanding and reconciling the woman he thought he knew with the woman she truly was. He could always tell how she was feeling based on what she was listening to; right now, with their relationship in such a precarious place and her well-being in the balance, he craved anything that allowed him to feel closer to her.

Just before he could press play, a nurse entered, politely requesting that he take his leave as they tended to Theo.

Loki glanced one final time at the laptop, the question lingering on his mind: what if entering her mind truly was the solution? 

As if on cue, Thor’s voice echoed in Loki’s mind: Could he live with himself if he did not at least try?

Then again, if she perished, could he live with himself knowing he was the cause?  

Now look, you’ve made a fool out of love When all you want is to be enough, When all you want is to feel enough

In the end, desperation won over.

The Norns must have truly cursed him, to force his hand into taking such action. The stacks of texts which failed to provide any hints about a path forward, the laptop which held no documentation of the secrets Theo kept, the chimes of machines which provided borrowed time - they all taunted him as he sat alone in the darkened room, with nothing but one small lamp above the head of bed illuminating the space. The corridor outside was eerily still, no doubt from the late hour, with not even the squeak of rubber sole on polished floors making it to Loki’s ears.

Before he began, he decided to revisit the playlist of covers she recorded. If there was one thing that had not been cast into doubt after everything that transpired, it was that the music she created always provided a window to her emotions at that moment in time. Though it was a long shot, Loki hoped that hearing the very songs she covered might help Theo subconsciously lower her guard, allowing Loki to see into her memories.

Selfishly, he hoped it might also offer him the opportunity to determine if the bonds between them were true, or if they were little more than illusions.

If nothing else, the sound of her voice floating through the air offered him a comfort that he desperately craved, particularly as he stared down the prospect of being both her lover and executioner. 

In the dead of night, with no one around to witness, Loki said a prayer to whatever deities might offer him grace. He leaned over, delicately cupping Theo’s cheek in his hand. His gaze carefully cataloged the features he’d come to love and the remnants of a war she hadn’t chosen to fight in, committing them to his own memory.

“If this is to be your final moment, I hope that it is peaceful,” he murmured, as if she could hear his voice or comprehend his message. “Come what may, I pray you will forgive me for that which I am about to do; I wish nothing but the best for you, my dear.”

Theo’s eyes slowly fluttered open, and for a moment, Loki’s pulse stuttered as he swore traces of recognition could be found. Yet, it was a fleeting moment before they fell shut once more, and the reality of their situation set in.

It was now or never.

Taking Theo’s hand in his, Loki closed his eyes. The tingle of Seidr flowed through his veins as he channeled it into Theo, uncertain about what he would find when he attempted to probe her mind. 

In some sort of poetic irony, that was exactly how he found himself back where most stories start - at the beginning.

It’s still not quite the way it was, But you promised me that  this is love, so stay and  Watch the hospital that’s Just across the street From your apartment balcony I’ll never ever leave, I’ll never leave

Tag list: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @thedistractedagglomeration @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @mochie85 @coldnique @lokixryss @gigglingtiggerv2 @infinitystoner @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @crzyplantladyvibes @buttercupcookies-blog @vickie5446 @wolfsmom1 @sarahscribbles @loki-cees-all @the-lady-amphitrite @tripleyeeet let me know if you want to be added!

[arkhamsrevenge]

Batman The Adventures Continue Under the Red Hood pt 1

If you haven't read the comic, PLEASE READ IT!  There are spoilers in this. (Duh) 

“Jason Todd? But how?” Alfred exclaimed as he looked at the results the Bat computer gave. Bruce sat in shock.  

“It’s him. It would explain the mysterious stalker, how he’s always one step ahead and why he knows our moves before we do.” They both sat in silence until Alfred jumped up.  

“My god Y/N L/N. They were close! He might...” Bruce understood what his old friend was saying and headed to Dr. Thompkins knowing she was the only one who could get into contact with Y/N 

At Dr. Leslie Thompkins's clinic.  

“Why are you here?” Dr. Thompkins didn’t even turn around, she knew who was behind her.  

“Jason’s alive physically, emotionally he’s angrier than ever. I thought he’d go to see an old patient of yours, Y/N.” Batman explained bluntly. He didn’t have time for small talk or a discussion about their falling out that was sue to what happened to Jason. “The child who had the-” 

“Croaked leg, yes, I know.” Y/N L/N became a patient to Dr. Thompkins when the child hurt her leg badly in an explosion if fear gas set off by Scarecrow. The fear gases tore through the citizens of Gotham. One of which had been welding a knife and 16-year-old Y/N didn’t out run them fast enough before this individual started stabbing her left leg repeatedly. When the gas cleared and the citizen came to, he screamed at the top of his lungs at what he had done. The 16-year old’s leg had been mutilated and she had passed out from pain and blood loss. Luckily, Robin had heard the scream and raced to see what had happened, that’s when he first saw Y/N. He wanted to give the man a beating but knew the girl laying there would die if she didn’t get help. Once the paramedics got her secured, Robin followed them all the way to the hospital just to make sure they got there safely. Fortunately, the leg was saved but Y/N would have to walk with a cane for the rest of her life. Dr. Leslie Thompkins took over from there, helping her with pain management, psychological trauma and physical therapy. Though Y/N’s leg was still croaked, she could move around with it better than before. Both her therapy and physical therapy sessions were almost always interrupted by the boy wonder. He would see how she was, or he’d have to get patched up. Often it was the ladder. Jason, as Robin grew very fond of Y/N, and when Y/N was going back to school, Bruce Wayne, a friend of Dr. Thompkins, offered his son, Jason Todd to help her readjust. Unfortunately, the chronic pain in her leg varied from week to week, but Jason was more than happy to bring her work and help her catch up on assignments. Ever so slightly, there seemed to be a change in Jason, he was getting gentler, softer. But Y/N was a daredevil, headstrong and reckless as Jason soon found out. She hated being cooped up in her little apartment, so she snuck out the window one night to get a milkshake. As Y/N was crossing the street one way, Jason was crossing the other and stopped in his tracks as the h/ced girl basically zoomed past him. That night Jason and Y/N had their first official unofficial first date. Upon remembering the young boy’s affection towards Y/N, Dr. Thompkins’s anger began to fill her. 

“This is your fault! He was wild and you let him run wild! He wasn’t just another kid who disappeared into the night he was our responsibility!” Tears started to well up in her eyes  

“What do you mean by gone? Why didn’t anyone go after him?” Y/N asked Dr. Thompkins looked at her leg. Y/N had asked where Robin was for some time and through pure exhaustion Dr. Thompkins let it slip that "Robin” had gone rouge.  

“Batman is doing everything he can to look for him.” She had said trying to comfort the young girl.  

“But Dr. T, I saw him a couple days ago. He visited me at my house, he never indicated that something was wrong.” Y/N said sadly. Dr. Thompkins didn’t have the heart to tell the poor girl that Jason was dead. Or so she thought.   

“I can give her a call with you here if that will give you peace of mind.” Dr. Thompkins said, picking up her phone. The line rang and rang but only the answering machine picked up. “She didn’t pick up! You don’t think...?” Dr. Thompkins turned to Batman only to see he was gone. No doubt going to find Y/N, if Jason didn’t find her first.  

POV Y/N 

I can’t believe my stupidity. Staying late at the Iceberg lounge was NOT a smart idea. Especially with this fucking limp. So here I am in the dead of night hobbling my way through Gotham, trying to get back at my apartment. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched however. It’s been going on for weeks and even though I feel a little uneasy, I haven’t felt safer. This stalking stranger had warned me a few nights ago, when I was working at the lounge behind the bar. Some guy had asked for a drink and as I made it, he asked for anther one. I did as he asked, only to have him say the drink was for me. Being polite I thanked him, telling him I’ll drink it right after I get the other orders out. When I came back the guy was gone and a note was left.  

The drink was spiked. Stay safe. 

I never knew who this mystery person was who saved me but since then I’ve been seeing glimpses of someone hiding in the shadows or on rooftops, watching me. Tonight, I hope they are watching me trying to get home. I could see my building in sight, and started to make my up the stairs. Me leg ached by the time I got to the top when a gruff voice startled me.  

“Excuse me Y/N. That drunk you live with owes us money.” I turned to see a couple of Black Mask’s gang members.  

“Then ask him for it.” I quietly said, unlocking my door.  

“He skipped town, left your boss a letter and now he is collecting what was promised to him.” The gang members surrounded me. One grabbed my arms, putting them behind my back. I kicked at them only for one to kick my bad leg. Making me scream in pain and crumble to the ground. “Boss said we had to bring you back to him, but we haven't been this close to a lady in a long time.” The pain in my leg kept pulsating, I was in too much pain to fight back. Closing my eyes, I waited for all this to be over, until the weight holding me down was ripped off. I sprung up, pulling myself up with my discarded cane. All three men were dead, blood pooling around my feet.  

“Damn bastards.” A deep voice said from the shadows. I swallowed.   “Please tell me you aren't here to kill me too.” The shadowed figure chuckled.  

“No.” I let out a breath. “You’re not safe here though.” The stranger said.  

“I’ve never been safe in Gotham. I’ll manage.” I said, hobbling back to my door ready to go inside when something poked my arm. I looked to see a dart, taking it out my world started to get blurry. Shit.  

“Sorry Y/N. But I’m not willing to take the chance.” My legs buckled but I was soon scooped up. I couldn’t even ask how they knew my name until everything went dark.  

[sashi-ya]

It is okay to request a part 2 of angst Ace? like their child is searching for s/o in Amazon Lily and asked Ace: "Papa, when is Mama coming home?"

I'm so sorry 😭

Hi my dear! I got too into the story, so I always end up crying a little 😅. But, either way I hope you enjoy this second part full of pure angst! Thank you so much for requesting and reading ~ 💖

PART 2 - Portgas D. Ace x F! Reader ~ Why isn't she here?

PART 1: https://sashi-ya.tumblr.com/post/652998156866486272/hi-may-i-request-a-one-shot-of-ace-x-femreader

TW: pure ANGST. Hurting, wounds, blood. Mentions of death

WC: 887

Boa is asking Law about the state of health of Ace, while Luffy stays by his side making funny faces, but Ace won’t wake up.

“Mugiwara-ya, let him rest, all the wounds have opened again. He is not ok, please. Plus, you should rest too”, says Trafalgar Law, who thankfully arrived to give them treatment at a crucial moment while escaping Marineford.

Boa looks at the ground thinking about ways to make Luffy head off a little, and she offers him some food. Even Law has a worried expression on his face. The whole Heart pirates crew is outside, really touched about the news.

Jinbei is on the coast with Rayleigh taking some fresh air, trying to calm himself. He is wounded too.

Truth is, so many lives have been lost in the war, but all of them were deeply touched by the loss of Ace’s lover… because Ace won’t be the only one suffering…

While inside, Ace still remains unconscious, yet salty tears flow from the outside corners of his eyes and has his fist clenched hard over his heart… Losing the love of his life, made a scar over his heart, almost as if he has a big hole in it. But somehow, he keeps breathing.

Luffy tries to act tough, he struggles not to fall because of his weak legs, so Boa helps him to walk away from the room. Some Kujas have brought a big pile of meat, but he is not eating. It hurts to see his brother suffering, plus, he knew his sister-in-law since they were little.

“This is going to take a long time to heal, and I’m not even sure if this type of wound could be cured completely, Luffy-kun. We should be next to him, as much as we can”, Jinbei tells Luffy while both are sitting on the shore looking at the sunset. “Yeah…”, says Luffy, with a tone so unusual, almost extinct.

The night comes, and everybody goes to sleep. Luffy, who can’t fight anymore against the exhaustion, falls asleep sitting next to Ace with his head over the mattress. Boa, who is at his side, also falls asleep. While Law sits on the ground outside with his back over the wall with his katana on his shoulder. He does not sleep, he knows Hiken no Ace’s life is hanging on a very thin thread, so he is ready -even if he doesn’t show it- to save his life if it’s necessary.

The sea and his sounds surround the darkest of all the nights. Law is watching at his submarine docked on the port when he hears some child shouting. He turns around and devises a little kid running towards the hut. The doctor stands up, and sees some Kujas running behind the child, who screams “Daaaddy!! Mooommy!!”. He gasps, he knows the little girl is Ace’s daughter.

“Oi, oi, kid, stop”, he tells her trying to tackle her to avoid her entering. “Let-Let me in!!”, she says and kicks Law. “Rouge, wait!”, everybody shouts at the little girl, but she is already inside. Boa and Luffy wake up scared. “Dad…?”, she asks at the foot of the bed. Rouge cries, without any sound, but with tears that could flood the world. Uncle Luffy is not moving, Boa hugs the little girl, she is not moving either.

“R-Rouge…”, a weak voice struggles to say. “Daddy!!”, the little girl says, and aunt Boa let the little girl approach Ace. “Daddy, what happened?”, she asks. Ace reaches for her and pulls his daughter to his chest. He needs to feel the warmth of his baby girl. He brushes his hair, while Rouge hears the heartbeat of his father slowly increasing. “There is a reason to keep living, Ace”, says Luffy.

“Daddy… where is mommy? I searched for her all over this island, I couldn’t find her… is she here? When is Mama coming home?”, Rouge asks. Ace shuts his eyes, once again, he feels a dagger to his heart, slowly but firmly stabbing him. “How am I supposed to tell my daughter her mom died protecting me? I am the one who should protect her mother… She is going to hate me...”, Ace thinks repeatedly.

The moment seems to be stopped in time; Ace can’t hear anything besides the words of her daughter asking for her mum. He needs to tell her the truth, even if that means he is gonna lose his baby girl, too.

“Baby… Rouge, my baby…”, he mumbles. Rouge looks at his aching father, perhaps already knowing what he is about to say. “Mommy… Mommy is in heaven now…”, he tells her, trying to sound as soft as he could. “Daddy… Mommy is dead?”, she asks. Ace cries, but swallows something that tastes like sand, mixed with blood. “Yes, baby. Mommy is gone… I’m sorry, I’m sorry she died protecting me. It was my fault, I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry…”, he tells her, trying to stand up, failing miserably.

“Daddy… don’t leave me, please. Don’t you ever go away, ok?” Rouge tells his dad while wiping his tears out of his cheeks. Ace gasps, and tells his little baby girl, “I won’t baby, I will always be with you…”, and daughter and father close their eyes as they melt into a tight hug.

[raineydays411]

Mission In Progress

Steve Rogers x daughter!reader

Summary: Steve realizes that his past behavior may have cost him the love of his daughter.

A/n: Hello! This is the second part to my Steve Rogers series! I hope you like it and also I hope y’all get the little references I put in these lol💕

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean Natasha taught you?”

Oh shit.

That was the collective thought between you, Nat, Clint, and Tony. It was well known among the team that Steve didn’t want his daughter learning ANY form of self defense, but those four thought that was ridiculous. She was Captain America's daughter, she definitely would need to fight off an enemy sooner or later.

“well...nat taught me the basics on how to defend myself, she said it would come in handy someday.” You say quietly, picking the thread on your sleeve rather than looking at your father.

“Romanoff, you taught her how to fight?” Steve said, fury bleeding into his eyes. “I made it perfectly clear--”

“Steve, its unreasonable for her not to know how to fight, she's the daughter of one of the worlds greatest defenders. If she doesn’t fight, she’s dead.”, Natasha said bluntly, staring Steve in the face as the other Avengers grew uncomfortable.

“She’s perfectly fine, it’s not like she leaves the Tower anyway.”

“Because if she did, you’d have someone follow her. It’s creepy, man”  Tony butts in with a roll of his eyes. By now both Bruce and Thor had silently left the room, as both of them would be useless in this conversation.

“Oh, so Tony Stark is gonna teach me how to raise a kid? Isn’t that ironic.”

“It’s not like you’re doing any better on your own. All Y/n does is stay in her room and write in that book of hers, she doesn’t even talk to people her own age.”

“It’s safer that way and you all know it” Steve snaps, refusing to even look your way. “ I set those rules for a reason, and I don’t appreciate my team mate or friends going behind my back and breaking them.”

“Look, Steve we love you, but the way you’re going about this whole parenting situation is completely wrong.” Clint finally says. “ I get that you were thrusted into this role, we all do. But man, you can protect Y/n from everything and it’s not healthy for her to be locked away in the tower like--”

“Like some modern day Rapunzel” 

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You all know the reason why she’s not allowed to leave. Its just safer that way.” Steve says, expecting the conversation to be over. “ Now, we’ll talk about this when we get back to --”

“You don’t lock me away for my protection” You say looking up with a determined face. Steve, obviously stunned you called him out like that turned to you and said

“ Excuse me?” 

“ It was never about me. If you wanted me to be safe, you would have taught me how to defend myself as soon as you could. You would have told the world about me, just to make sure everyone knows not to mess with me.” You say, your brow furrowed. “ You say its for safety, but who’s safety is it really for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve says in a low, slow tone. 

“Everytime I come in a room, you tense up like I’m going to attack you.” You start to say, realizing that once you reveal what you noticed, things will never be the same. “ You monitor everything I do. You never allow me to be alone. You don’t talk to be about missions and don’t allow anyone else to.” You stand up off the couch. “ You refuse to acknowledge my mother, and won’t even let read the journal she left me.”

“That’s enough Y/n”

“No!” You shout. “ It’s not fair I don’t understand why you treat me like this.” Steve looks at you in surprise. 

“ Y/n, you don’t understand.”

“ I do. You don’t trust me.” You finally say. “ You haven’t from day one, and I don’t know why. It's not like a six year old is a Hydra agent by disguise.” 

Hearing this Steve freezes. He knows that all this surveillance was unnecessary. And deep down he knew that you could never hurt not even a fly. but that tiny voice in his head got the best of him. And even though he grew to love you more than he’d like to admit, the thought of you being am enemy scared him. 

“ You are a threat.” Steve says stubbornly. “ You came out of nowhere, with nothing but a note in the middle of the night. Your mother is nowhere to be found, and I have no idea who to even look for. You look nothing like me and defiantly don’t act like me.” 

Hearing these words is like a knife being repeatedly stabbed in your heart. It’s one thing to think that your dad doesn’t love you, it's another to hear them directly from his mouth. 

“ I have done nothing for you to treat me like this. I have done nothing to lose your trust. I didn’t ask for my mother to leave me here with you. It’s not my fault.” You say, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “ That robot asked me to go with him you know?”

The whole room freezes. You never mentioned that when Clint picked you up from the Tower.

“ He asked me to go with him, because he said I had no one. I had nothing to loose. And now” You let tears run down your face. “ Now that I know he’s right, I still wouldn’t go with him. Because I would NEVER want someone to get hurt because of me.” And with that you pushed past the group of superheros and ran outside. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had to get out of that house.

You walk into town and into a bookshop that was surprisingly open at this hour. The clerk looked at you in annoyance as you wandered the isles quietly. Picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet, you walk toward the counter to pay.

“Tch, Romeo and Juliet?” The cashier says

“What about it?” you ask, puzzled that he cared enough to mention it. 

“Nothing if you’re thirteen and never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” You say, eyes lighting up at the chance to talk to someone your own age without the gaze of an agent boring into your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, there was a tense silence in the house. Steve left with the words you told him rattling in his brain. 

“You know, Y/n always used to come to me for help picking out the perfect father's day gift for you.” Clint said breaking the silence in the room. “ She insisted we wake up hours before you to go to the shops just to surprise you. She loved wrapping the gift and the thought of making you happy.” He smiled bitterly. “ I loved every second of it, watching her reminded me of my own family. It broke my heart to see her little face deflate when you barely acknowledged the gift and treated it like it was a bomb or something.” He shakes his head and walks out. Natasha follows him and says ‘ Its late, it's not safe for her to be out there alone, I’m going to look for her.”. Then she’s gone. Leaving only Tony and Steve in the living room. It’s quiet for a few minutes. They can hear Clint playing with his children, Lila laughing as Cooper and Clint chase her. 

“ You know, all my life I had to wonder if my dad loved me too.” Tony said suddenly. “ I guess that’s why I got along with Y/n so well.”

Steve sat on the couch and sighed. “ I guess I could’ve approached this differently.”

“That's your problem Rogers, you treat her like a mission. She’s a kid. Even I know that you can’t raise a kid that way.”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “So, what do you think I should do?”  

Tony rolled his eyes again.” Well for one, you can go look for your fourteen year old daughter who ran out in the middle of the night in an area she doesn’t know.”

Steve's eyes widened and he shot up, “ Shit, I- I have to go find her.” and with that he ran out of the living room, leaving Tony alone as he heard him shout 

“Language!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Steve to get into town. The only problem he really faced was figuring out where you might be. Almost everything was closed except for a liquor store and some bars. He started to panic, as he started to think about the possibility of you being hurt or kidnapped or--

“Hey bomb pop, over here” someone whispers

Steve looks around to see Natasha standing in front of a bookshop. He jogs up to her and asks

“Nat what are you--” “SHHH, look” she points into the window.

At first Steve didn’t know what he was looking at. All he saw was two kids flirting on some bean bags. But then he looked closer and realized that was his kid flirting on some bean bags. He got ready to burst in there and drag her out, which surprised him.

“What are you doing” Natasha harshly whispered, “This is the first time in years y/n has talked to someone her age, and I will NOT let you ruin it.”

“But does it have to be a boy” Steve whines, then he shrinks back as Nat glares at him. 

“You have no right to play protective daddy right now, you--”

“Dad? Nat? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about an hour since you started talking to Levi, the cashier. Even though he insulted your book choice

“It’s a play about two bratty kids who think they’re in love and then kill themselves, its pathetic”

He’s interesting. He has this harsh exterior that is refreshing to you. You liked that he didn’t handle you with kids gloves like the rest of the Avengers did. He let you stay behind after closing as long as you helped him clean, but you didn’t last long because apparently you “cleaned like a blind person with no hands” whatever that means. After cleaning you two sat and talked about music and his friends. It was nice. That was until you felt eyes on you.

Looking out the window you noticed two figures staring at you. One petite red head and a tall blonde to be more specific. Rolling your eyes, you say goodbye to Levi and thank him for one of the best nights you’ve had in a while. As you left he did something that surprised you.

“Hey brat, here’s my number.” He says as he gives you an old receipt, “ Don’t expect me to text you all night, I have a life too.” 

You just smile and say thank you, blushing as you realize this was your first friend in years. You put the number in your pocket and walk outside. 

“Dad? Nat?” You ask, cutting their little squabbling short. “What are you two doing here?” 

Nat and Steve stand up straight. 

“It was getting late and I was worried so I came to find you” Natasha said, “ But it seems to me that you were quite alright in there” She finishes with a smirk. You blush as you try to think of a retort. Before you say anything, you hear your dad clear his throat. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t getting intel on how to kill you or whatever you think what will happen if i make friends.” You again push past the two avengers, your good mood spoiled as you walk away. You hear some harsh whispering then your name is called. 

“Y/n” your father calls, “I think we need to talk.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @angeldreineedshelp @night-thinqer @ilyimagines @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

[lethalchiralium]

Sing To Me | Higgs Monaghan [The Artist and the Destroyer]

a/n: hello! i’m active! and for artist and the destroyer??? incredible. gotta love it. can still be read by itself! no need to read any other parts (even though i’d love you for it) don’t love the shit that’s fucking with my life though so enjoy uwu

warnings: amelie strand. do i need to say more? cussing, fear, higgs? not really higgs.

summary: higgs can get bored sometimes, especially if he’s not feeling himself.

Higgs got bored.

He’d tell you all day and with every breath he took that he had so much fun when he was alone, but he always had you. Except for today, apparently you had gathered some shitty porter gear from your closet and had left your shelter. Of course he wanted to see what in God’s name you were doing and where you were going, but that’s too… clingy. He wasn’t clingy, he was the Particle of God, for fuck’s sake.

He hated the humanity you so violently stabbed into him when your furnace broke that one time. You were shivering so violently that night, even with him trapped beneath your sleeping form. Whatever he fucked with in that furnace worked, and he’s hated himself ever since. He convinced himself that he didn’t want to fuck with a voidout by his little play thing, but his play thing gave him something to do and when he wasn’t fucking with Sam, he was having fun with you.

Except for this moment, as he chucked the tennis ball at the wall repeatedly, a tune blended into his head. A song he played on his guitar back in his shelter, one he wrote as a lonely, pathetic porter. He almost hit his hand on the wall, trying to make the time fly by like when your pretty smile shines right at him.

“So this is how it ends,” he began to sing that damn tune, the song that seemed to infest his brain as he sat in your bunker for two hours. “Not with a whisper but a bang.” He wasn’t worried, he was far from worried. He was so calm that he could probably have a normal conversation without wanting to kill something out of anxiety. He couldn’t stop picturing you dead in some valley and he was too concerned with his pride to jump and check. He knew he didn’t have much pride when it came to you “Slammin' doors and broken picture frames, puffed-up pride and called-out names.”

You, on the other hand, trudged out of the snow towards your shelter. Old porter boots strapped tighter than they should’ve began to ache less and your pack with your easel and paints strapped to your back became lighter. The sensor poles activated, scanning your ID and quietly opening the door, seeing that you set it to since Higgs was passed out on the floor when you left to go paint one of the mountains nearby for fun. The door opened slowly and you shut it quietly, trying to leave Higgs be in case he needed the rest. But you heard music, like someone was singing.

“I ransom gold,” the voice sang loudly as you walked down the stairs, hearing something hit the wall with rhythm as well. “Peddle your wares on down the road, your manufactured love will stop the show,” A few more steps. “For all the fools just passin by, who have yet to get wise.”

Holy fucking shit, it was Higgs whatever-the-fuck-his-middle-name-is Monaghan. Throwing a tennis ball at the wall and fucking singing, and singing well. Higgs. The terrorist Higgs Monaghan was singing like he was an angel.

“I never meant to break your heart,” A loud yet strong belt came from him as the ball stayed in his hand, he spun around, kicking the ground with a look of boredom on his face as you hid against the wall the best you could. Holy. Fuck. “I only meant to speak the truth-”

“Welcome, Y/N.” Your shelter soon activated at the wrong damn time and you jumped down the remaining steps, scared out of your skin by not just the shelter, but the hell-summoning stare of one man.

“Higgs-” You started but he closed his eyes and bared his teeth, his hand up before his icy eyes met yours like they had become fire.

“You heard nothin’.” He said, finger pointed straight at you before he almost jumped, but your hand grabbed his hand before he could think about it.

“Don’t be scared of yourself.”

Higgs almost looked offended, but you continued. “You run away every time you show me who you really are, under that damn body armor and that stupid cloak.”

“‘Cause you don’t deserve it.” He answered sharply, his other hand dropped the tennis ball. “Let me go, Y/N.”

You yanked his hand forwards, pulling him with as your voice grew sharp and louder than before. “Don’t deserve it? I show you, a fucking terrorist, every damn side of me like it a fucking game. I don’t show fucking anyone anything of me- I mean for fuck’s sake-” Your pther hand pulled off his glove, causing Higgs to almost snarl but he was still docile. He was interested in what you were doing - but a part of him needed to hear what you were gonna say. “You’re comfortable with me doing that. You have fixed my furnace, helped me through a rough week and you smile whenever you see my art. I show you my vulnerability and I get to see glimpses of a man I want to know.”

“You know me.”

“You’re fucking stupid.” You shouted back, throwing the glove in his face before letting go, knowing the fight is an uphill battle where he will always win. You turned around and shove off your pack, angered as you unzipped your suit and walked down the hall. “You’re so fucking stupid, Higgs.”

He turned towards the hall, hand slipping back on his glove as his voice raised, “How the fuck am I stupid if I didn’t want you to hear my stupid fucking song?” He took a step forwards, pointing his finger again. “That was private!”

“Maybe I want to hear you sing, Higgs, ‘cause I liked your voice and I don’t think you’re weak.”

Fire began to spread under his skin, from astonishment and anger. You should have never heard that leave his lips, ever. “Says the damn coward.”

The pause you took was threatening in nature, eyes pointed straight towards him with an emotion he has never seen in a person before. Porter suit tied around your waist and pack no long strapped to you, you moved into your doorway to look at the man.

“You really wanna talk about cowardice?” It was practically a bark that came from your throat, hands on the doorway to ground you. “Where to begin? Oh, with your precious little Sam Bridges.”

“Y/N-“

“You love to poke fun at the poor guy, you have to power to fucking gut him like he’s a fucking fish yet you don’t make an effort to! You are so much stronger than him, he’s one fucking man. You are too much of a coward to use your powers and be the big bad wolf you make yourself out to me- I mean, you’ve fucking hurt me more than you ever have Sam!”

“That’s a fucking lie!” He spat, “I haven’t hurt a damn hair on your fucking head!”

“And what about me, huh?” You hit the doorframe with your left hand. “Your little façade of being God and not having one connection to keep him down.” A step into the hallway. “Then what am I, ‘cause I’m surely not your friend, I’m not your lover, I could never love someone like you, you fucking ignorant, self-centered fucking coward.”

Higgs could only grip his hand into a fist, his tar-coated heart cracked as you snapped, “Get the fuck out of my house:”

Stings scratched his skin as black tar bubbled beneath your feet, hands grabbed your ankles and you hid your fear, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. Arms reached up farther and grabbed your knees, pushing you onto them as more acidic hands grabbed your wrists, You only made a grunt and your breathing slightly intensified.

Boots hit the cement and Higgs squatted down, the small little click that left his lips made your stomach curl. Higgs knew you were upset with him, your words didn’t hurt him, but it’s so easy for him to fall into place; into his place. His ungloved hand moved your chin up to look at him, his other hand clutched his missing glove. His eyes didn’t spare any expense at looking at every section of your face, remembering it for when it gets late at night and he thinks of just summoning a BT to swallow him whole. And the eyes that he dreams of stared at him with fear, something small in him hated it but he kept going. Moving your head to look at your neck and how nicely that tank top settled right underneath your collarbone. He was observing how quickly you submitted, just like every other pawn under his calloused thumb.

“Higgs.” You whispered, his fingers dig into your jaw and a sharp grunt left your throat. “I’m sorry.”

He let out a couple chuckles, sighing after, “I needed no apology, darlin’. None of your little monologue nicked me where it hurt.” His hand slid from your jaw to your neck, lightly gripping it and danger really set into your skin. “Except for two things that aren’t quite right.”

The extra glove was thrown behind him and his gloved hand set on the crown of your head. Head completely tilted towards him, you had no option but to listen as the slimy hands still held you tight, some grabbed at your stomach and thighs, nothing out of bounds, thank God.

“It’s a game of cat and mouse, where I completely have control of the game. I like my food to have a little muscle, and exercise is the best way to do it,” he smiled. “it’s entertaining to watch some puny fuck run around like a damn chicken with his head cut off. As for you, my darlin’,” he took a deep breath as he sort of leaned back, releasing your hair and tightening the grip on your neck threateningly.

Eye contact was made and his white teeth were displayed again as he practically purred, “You’re in love with me.”

Everything in you stopped working.

“Those stares that last a little too long, almost being shy in front of me like you didn’t think about me losing my clothes and worshipping you like everyone does to me.” A chuckle made its way into his throat as he continued, “And trust me, it’s hard to breathe around beauty like you but feelins ain’t meant for me.

“You’re one of many playthings, Y/N. You’re just one of my favorites that I decided not to use like the others,” he pushed you upwards by your throat and you barely even noticed the BTs had let you go a long time ago. “you’re special, ‘cause you got feelin’s for me.” He only held you by your neck now, pain began to surge through your body and hands tried to grab his arm. He didn’t even budge.

“Here’s the thing,” he sighed, “now you’ve forced my hand to not only hurt you, but to make you scared of me. I don’t want you scared of me, I like my lovers calm and not fidgety, they get too much and they end up dead in a lake out by Middle Knot. So you’re gonna have to pretend that I never did this to you,” he dropped you to the floor, coughs erupted from your throat as he also fell to your height again, his golden mask in hand. “And your little fantasies can come true,” he stood up as you were paralyzed, staring at him as he tapped the chiralium mask. “and Y/N, my darling?”

You didn’t respond.

He smiled. Submission and fear is what fueled him, but there was that part of him that was enraged with himself. He pressed on as he made eye contact again. “Any bullet you fire at me will go right through you, that’s why you’re on the fucking floor and I am about to order pizza.”

“Higgs,” a whisper escaped your lips.

“You’ll wake up soon,” He added, a snap and his hood appeared on his head, his ice eyes looked away. “I’ll see you soon, I- Fuck..”

Particles clashed together in a flash and he was gone, your vision went black.

•-•-•

When you woke up, it was like life had been sucked out of you. You stumbled to your shower, turned the water to hot and sat in your pajamas. You could still feel his hand around your throat and the tar-coated hands as they touched every inch of your body. Crawling, grabbing, the electricity that sparked through his fingers stayed on your skin like promises, ready to be broken by the right person.

The crying started by the time the water ran cold but you didn’t dare more, you were safe. Hands on your head and body as curled as it could be, you were there for a long time.

You wished it was timefall and that you had already rotted away.

It was a couple hours before the system had shut itself off to conserve water and the AI alerted you to a low water warning, that the water had to be sanitized for reuse, you weren’t worried.

You got up, ripped off your clothes and into nothing, grabbing a new set of clothes when you walked into your room. A comfortable pair of sweatpants and the only sweatshirt you owned - one Higgs gave you. You were hesitant but you wanted it. It was a comfort item. Socks and then your a random book you plucked from your nightstand.

You sat down in the corner of your living room, the book beside you as you held yourself in that sweatshirt, trying to erase that dream from your head.

You needed to erase it because you loved him.

•-•-•

Higgs hated this. Amelie paced back and forth with her hands fidgeting.

“You need to scare him more.” She said, Higgs had heard it a million ties before. “Something big, something huge; like that chiral storm by South Knot.” She stopped and curled her fingers into a fist. “A catcher could work, he’s making his way to Mountain Knot.”

“I could take out that Western Middle Knot distro.” He answered and she gave him a look of disgust.

“The Distribution Center North of Mountain Knot City.” She snapped her fingers and Higgs waltzed around her. “A simple attack could work. Overpower the fuel cells with a package and a BRIDGES worker could die and cause a distro shutdown.”

“It’s not hard, princess.” He stated and looked at the non-existent watch on his wrist. “I’ve got to go do that.”

Amelie chuckled as she turned away. “I know you will. But at least say hello to your prepper friend for me.”

Fuck. “What friend, Amelie?” He harshly growled. “Ain’t got friends anymore ‘cause of you.”

“Y/N was your ex, right?” She said, and Higgs grimaced underneath his mask.

“That prepper is a plaything,” He answered. “Something your puppy can chew on when you’re busy.”

“Y/N is your ex, right Higgs?” She asked again, harsher.

He nodded. Y/N knew him before as Pete Englert, not as his true name since he was never fond of it until Amelie spoke about it with kindness. It was a fling, a few week fling. Two porters who walked the same path and a few words sparked something spectacular. They were the first cut to tie before Middle Knot’s flames roared. But now? He wasn’t sure.

She grimaced. “Are you attached?”

“Amelie, I’d love for you to tell me where something fucking interestin’ happens when I have to wait to fuck with Sam,” Higgs answered sharply and he backed away from her with his hands up. “The damn cells are all about bein’ ready for war and all I want is something to entertain me. Isn’t that was Sam does for you?” He pivoted on his foot, the sand crunched beneath his boots and the woman gave him a dirty look. “So why are you on me for this?”

“Because you have been known for being unpredictable.”

“Okay,” Higgs barked and rested his hands on his hips. “Unpredictable? Just because I tried to re-nuke without fucking talking about every detail with you isn’t a good reason.”

The blonde woman rolled her eyes. “As a punishment for that, I talked with your little prepper friend.”

Gravity in his chest became sudden and his stomach fell to the floor but he didn’t miss a beat. “You what?”

“As you, of course.” She fluttered her fingers as she jumped to beside him, grabbing his shoulder and all he could do was stand there. She had way more power than he could ever dream of. “Traumatized them with you using your powers on them, things you’d say,” She smiled and Higgs had to close his eyes before he punched her. ”and the poor thing is sitting in the shower, wondering why you turned on them so quickly. They were comfortable with you, Higgs, and that is something I don’t like.”

“Hypocrite.” He snapped and Amelie was unfazed.

“You can keep your little prepper, but under no condition can you be friends.”

“Fuck off.”

That was the moment when he was sucked back under into the Seam, floating underwater before his eyes opened and he was sitting in front of the Artist’s shelter.

“That fucking bitch.” Higgs muttered and he stepped into the sensor ring, the sound never failed to give him an house of comfort. He walked under the shelter entrance, the terminal raised from the floor and something in him made him pause.

Did she make you scared? Did she make you scared of him?

Higgs knew he wouldn’t be able to handle this without you, and Amelie ruining that made him both furious and terrified. He wanted to ask to come into your shelter this time, so he could know if what she told him was true. She did love to taunt and lie to him.

He jumped anyway into your living room, hearing no movement and no other sounds other than his own breathing. His hands grabbed his mask and hood, pulling them off and placing them on your kitchen counter. He then began to unlace his boots, something he never does when he’s here, and then placed them next to the door. He peeled off his cloak and his harnesses, setting them on the floor and adding his body armor to the pile, leaving him in his black long sleeve undershirt, his tactical pants, and his socks. He was trying to be as docile-looking to try and not scare you.

God, if Amelie made you scared him, he was going to fuck up everything she ever loved.

His eyes looked through the living room, seeing a towel on the couch but nothing else out of place. He glanced into the kitchen, nothing moved. He looked down the hall to see your bedroom door closed, he quietly and quickly walked towards it.

He opened the door and the relief he felt when he saw your body underneath the blankets but it quickly drained when you sat up and scrambled backwards on your bed.

“Y/N, it’s just me,” Higgs spoke quietly. He took a step into the room and your hand flew out.

“Do not.” Your voice was hoarse, he put his hands up. “Don’t come near me.”

“What did I do?” He spoke genuinely and your eyes closed, screwed shut. “Please.”

“You know what you did!” You answered with a shout. “You violated every boundary I set with you and you deliberately fucked with me to make me scared of you.” And there wasn’t a beat missed after you took a shaky breath. “I don’t wanna be scared of you.”

Tears fell instantly after and Higgs almost bolted towards you but his mind was a little faster.

“It was Amelie. Your dream was Amelie, I’m so sorry,” He answered, another step forward. “She told me but I didn’t know she…”

“I need you.”

Amelie’s words couldn’t break the attachment he had to you since he’s never run this fast in his life. He set his knees beside your thighs and his hands sat on your cheeks as your hands tangled in his dark hair. His eyes couldn’t stop looking into yours, praying to see the fear fade away but it didn’t.

“Baby,” He whispered. “I’d never hurt you.”

“Please never do.” You answered and he pulled you to his chest, sobs left your body like unanswered prayers. “I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you either.” He met your statement with truth. “Everything will be okay, I promise it’ll be okay.”

You never answered after that, sobs leaving your throat faster. Hands gripped his shirt and his own held your head, burying his face into your hair. There was nothing he could say to stop your tears because your fight was internal, and he was about to make his own external.

———

Copyright © 2021 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

[spices-and-cherries]

Handling cultural differences with Yondu Udonta would include...

Okay, so I lied... I won’t finish Rampage before posting Michael Rooker content... I just had ideas that needed to be realized. Also, I’ve finally replied to a bunch of your lovely comments! I apologize for not doing so before - I kept putting it off (and I couldn’t figure out how bc I’m dumb like that). I’d also like to say that one or two of these were loosely inspired by Vital, a Yondu fanfic written by the one and only @loveisyondublue​! Please check it out if you haven’t - you’re in for a treat!

I did not reference race, gender, sexuality, or physical appearance. If I missed something, please let me know so I can change it!

Masterlist:

- Literature and media is present in many alien cultures, so the concept of what a movie or book is is not completely lost on Yondu (there’s also Peter to thank). The problem is that it’s super rare to find any from Terra. The stuff you do find, you either don’t have the right equipment to watch it on or it’s in another language...

- Alien music is kinda fun, but kinda dangerous too. You have to be careful if there’s a live performance somewhere because some vocal frequencies - while fine for others - are painful for Terrans. You once were at a bar with Yondu and there was a live performance. Halfway through the third set, Yondu freaked. You had started to bleed out of your ears, but hadn’t noticed. You ended up being fine, but Yondu has never been the same since. 

- You do tell Yondu and the Guardians (and anyone interested) about different Terran things. He likes anything that has to do with treasure and jokes about planning a trip to Terra to see if he can snatch anything. He also likes any and all fun facts that you have. They’re weird and he might not fully understand them, but he likes it all the same. 

- He also enjoys learning about Terran history. Great wars, diasporas, coups, ancient civilizations and anything else you can remember are all interesting to him. He’s found that there’s a lot more to Terra than he’d originally thought. 

- Of course, you stopped talking about mystical creatures and the like after he looked at you like you were crazy. Vampires? Turns out there’s a planet full of them less than a galaxy away. Phoenixes? There was one at the auction house on the planet you were just on. Zombies? There’s one coming straight at you! Okay, maybe not the last one, but after he started pointing these things out, you stopped bothering. It was too much for your heart to handle. 

- He can’t handle spicy food. At all. You found some Terran spices once and tried to replicate a dish that you really liked. It came out pretty good, so you shared some with Yondu. To say he was unhappy with you would be an understatement, but it didn’t last long (sulking meant he couldn’t get any kisses).

- Terran food in general is just weird to him so you don’t bother explaining it - unless you (miraculously) find something that you recognize. 

- Ravagers are not exactly known for their cleanliness and hygiene. Yondu’s disregard for his personal upkeep is something you were actively trying to fix, but you stopped given the circumstances: showers are kept to a minimum out of the need to preserve resources, Terran-safe toothpaste is even more expensive than the normal kinds (which you learned have acids that burn your gums the hard way), toilet paper is a luxury... So you find yourself adapting instead. It’s uncomfortable, but you manage to make do with what you got. 

- Yondu thinks it’s funny that you call ships ‘vehicles’. The first time you slipped up by saying you had left something in the car, he was so confused. When you explained to him what a car was, he was even more confused. Cue an hour long conversation on the different modes of transportation available on Terra. He’s both impressed and amused (repeatedly muttered ‘yacht’ under his breath throughout the rest of the day, making himself giggle).

- You think politics on Earth are complicated? Space politics is so confusing, it’s scary. You have no idea how Yondu keeps tabs on all the goings on. How does he keep track? When did he have the time to read the ‘morning paper’? Does he not get all the names confused? You really do try to understand, but it makes you wanna cry out of frustration. 

- The two of you have a long conversation on what respect means. His definition is based on fear and leadership, which is very different from yours. It’s hard for you to adapt and it’s hard for him to understand, but the two of you are getting somewhere. Once you managed to find the balance between work and your relationship, things got a lot smoother. 

- His concept of what counts as cheating is also different than yours. He hasn’t really been in many relationships, so he doesn’t get it. He also hasn’t learned that going to fellow ravagers for love advice isn’t the best idea. He claims they hadn’t done him wrong yet, but fails to realize less than a quarter of them have ever been in a relationship. It’s the thought that counts?

- To say that you’re not used to sleeping in a puppy pile is saying something. Your back and muscles are just not built for it. Also someone was stabbed in their sleep not too long after you joined, so that’s fun to think about. Thankfully, even before your relationship started, Yondu had you sleep next to him. 

-----

I hope you all enjoyed this! I know it’s not Daniel Craig, but I have been wanting to expand a little. Please tell me what you think or if there are other Michael Rooker characters you’d like to see (I’m thinking Clyde Dutton from Love and Monsters)... My asks are always open and comments are always welcome! 

- Simpy

[slasherheadcanons]

This may sound weird but what if the slashers and their s/o are just chilling and then some crazy fangirl/fanboy comes in? Like, they're saying stuff like "your mine Mikey" and "you don't need s/o, Bubba"? Maybe they even try to attack y/n! Hopefully its not too weird 😥

It's not weird at all. 🙂 I had fun writing this. Hope you enjoy!

•Slashers reacting to a crazy fangirl/fanboy coming and trying to hurt their S/o•

Michael Myers: •Michael was sitting on the couch chewing on the candy you bought for him so he wouldn't interrupt your movie. All was fine, Michael wasn't annoying you, and you got to watch tv. Well, at least it was fine until some crazy fan came barging in, making you jump a little. Michael looks at them. "You are mine, Mikey. Not their's." They shout, holding a knife in their hands. Before you can question them, they launch for you. They don't even get close to touching you before Michael grabs them by the back of the neck, stabbing them repeatedly. The first mistake was interrupting his eating, the second was calling him Mikey, and the last was trying to hurt you.

Bubba Sawyer: •You and Bubba were both on a nice walk around the property. Holding each other's hand as you enjoy the peace away from the family. Then the crazy fan appeared. "Come on, Bubba. You don't need S/o. You are mine!" They told Bubba, confusing the both of you. Bubba doesn't understand who this person and why they are calling him theirs. His heart belongs to his S/o, not this random stranger. When the fan goes to attack you, Bubba's confusion turns to anger. He squeals angrily, stepping in front of you, blocking their attempts to hurt you. He doesn't have his chainsaw with him, but he can and will carry them back to the house for his family to deal with. His first concern is at least getting this crazed fan away from you. The killing part will come once you are safe.

Jason Voorhees: •At the time, you and Jason were sitting on the front porch of the cabin enjoying the nice weather. Jason gently holds your hand in his own as the two of you watched the forest around. All was calm until the fan came. They suddenly ran down from the road towards the two of you yelling, "I am here to save you, Jason. From the wicked witch/wizard." Jason was just as confused as you were.  Who was this person, and what are they talking about? But those questions will have to wait until later. The moment the person tries to attack you, Jason is on his feet. He moves in front of you, blocking the fan's attacks. Jason will not tolerate anyone trying to harm his S/o and is quick to snap their neck before they can try again to hurt you. He makes sure you don't see their body. He picks you up and rushes you back inside. He sits on the couch with you, comforting you. He will deal with the body later, but for right now, you are his main concern. He wants to make sure you are alright.

Asa Emory (The collector): •Asa was silently reading his book sitting on the chair near the couch with a cup of coffee in his free hand. While you were laying on the couch lazily petting his dogs who lay next to you. You watched your favorite show enjoying just relaxing. Then someone just had to ruin this peace. A crazed fan broke in, holding a knife in their hand. Both of you look at them with confusion. "Let's be together instead, my dearest Asa!" They say with a grin. They don't get the chance to get closer to you before Asa whistles to the dogs. They launch forward off the couch, jumping on the crazed fan. Asa whispers to you to close your eyes and cover your ears. You do as he tells you. Asa is quick to deal with the crazed fan, not even bothering to add them to his collection. He kills them and tosses their body into a spare trunk to deal with later. He cleans up the blood before he lets you open your eyes again. After it's all clean, he sits next to you and pulls you close to him. He doesn't even have to say anything. You already know he isn't going to leave you.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull): •Jesse had planned the perfect date for the two of you. Having just returned from a business trip, he was eager to spend time with you. He found a perfect place in the park for both of you to have a stunning view of beautiful nature. He made sure he packed all your favorite foods and your favorite drink. Everything was wonderful. You both sat on the soft blanket, enjoying the beautiful day while you chatted and snacked on your food. It was perfect until someone had to come to ruin the peace. The both of you were confused to see someone suddenly come running over. "You should be mine, Jesse. Not her/his!" they shout with a deranged look in their eyes. Jesse notices them pull out a knife and wastes no time tackling them to the ground before they can make any move to hurt you. He breaks their wrist, holding the knife, making them let it go. He grabs the knife and stabs them in the stomach pressing the knife in deeply. While they are bleeding out, he moves back to you and pulls you close to him. He kisses you deeply while the crazed fan watches the knife still buried deep in their stomach. After pulling away from the kiss, Jesse adds one last burn to the fan's heart by signing to them. 'The only one I belong to is my S/o.' He tells them with a smug grin. He picks you up and carries you back to his car. Giving a text to Preston to clean up the body and picnic. While your picnic has been interrupted, Jesse has something else fun planned for the two of you. The rest of the day you both spend in the bedroom.

[seoulwhat]

Wedding OR Not (#12)

Summary: Loving your best friend is a stupid and hard thing to do. Would you be able to allow yourself to let your best friend marry the one he loves so he can be happy?

Pairing: Rowoon x female reader

Genre: slight angst, fluff

Warnings: heartbreak

Word Count: 3.9k

He’s your best friend in the whole world. You love him with all your heart and your whole soul.

Yet…

He has never really seen how much you loved him. You tried to show him through your actions, but all he did was see you as a “friend”. It’s not like you didn’t want to be his friend. Of course, you did. You had known him since you were six years old and were neighbors. You remembered when he would ring your doorbell in the middle of the afternoon, and he would be crying because his dad yelled at him, or his older brother didn’t let him play with his toy car. You remembered in elementary school, he hated the school lunch, so you would always make an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich and bring it for him. You remembered in middle school when he was bullied for not cutting his hair and everyone called him names, but you were there to hug him during his sad moments, and you were there to make him happy again. You remembered you told him in high school that you loved him and all he said was “I love you too. I hope we’re friends forever”.

So yeah, it did break your heart when he told you that he had been dating this girl and he thought that “she was the one”. But you two are best friends, so it’s a must to smile and be happy for him, right?

But you weren’t.

“I’m so happy for you. How long have you two been dating now?” You asked during a lunch that he kept rain checking. He took a sip of his water and began to speak.

“Actually, I’ve been dating her for a year and a half now.”

You almost spit your own food out and your eyes turned into the size of golf balls. “A year and a half!? Why haven’t you told me?”

All he did was shrug his shoulders and continued to eat his salad as he stared at you while you talked.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? We’ve been friends for how long now. Like forever? Rowoon, we’re best friends.”

Rowoon continued stabbing at his food with his fork and all you did was stare at him, waiting for an answer.

“She’s a jealous person.” He said quickly.

“Jealous? She doesn’t have to be jealous of me.”

“I told her you were my best friend and showed her a picture of you. She got upset and told me that she didn’t want me to see you again. I told her I couldn’t do that. So, we made a negotiation and I promised her that if I ever went out to see you, I would turn on the GPS on my phone.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Why would he want to be with someone like that? You became aware that your best friend was in a controlling relationship. But why was he still being with her?

“Do you love her?” The question popped out quicker than you could even think.

Rowoon was quiet and he hesitated to answer. “I do,” he nodded. “I think I want to marry her.”

You had imagined that if hearts were made of glass, yours would have shattered to a million pieces. Unfixable.

“Are-are you sure? Shouldn’t you think this through?” You asked, trying to delay his thoughts. You didn’t want him to get married. Well, you did, but you wanted him to marry you.

He shook his head. “I already did. I want to ask her tonight actually. What do you think?”

What I think is that you should get out of this relationship before it turns worse. You should leave her before she becomes more controlling and starts to decide what kind of underwear you can wear and cannot wear. You should leave her because she’s not me. You should leave her because I love you. You should leave her because I would make you so happy and I would never let you go.

“I think that’s a good idea,” was all that you were able to say. You regretted bringing this up in your conversation. It was making you uncomfortable and you were already on a verge of tears. Your throat was burning from holding back all your tears.

Your lunch came to an end, and you were thankful that the conversation did as well. You weren’t sure how much longer you could take listening to him brag about how much he loved this girl. You hugged him goodbye, and he promised to call you to let you know what she said. You weren’t looking forward to the call because honestly, you were already devastated as is.

Once you were home, you made sure to put your phone on sound so you wouldn’t miss Rowoon’s call.

A year had passed and the only thing that kept your mind thinking about things, other than Rowoon, was jogging twice a day and taking daily walks throughout the park. You stopped waiting for his phone call a month after he promised he would call you. You tried calling him, but he changed his phone number, and you had no other way to reach him. You used to know where he lived, until the day you went to his door and an Asian couple opened the door.

At first, you didn’t want him to call you to tell you that she agreed to marry him. Then after the second and third day and so on, you impatiently waited for him to call and say something.

Maybe she said no? Or maybe he just never asked her and broke up with her.

You thought so many things, but a call never came your way to satisfy your curiosity. Like always, you woke up in the morning and put on some comfortable jogging clothes and went for your morning run. On your way back home, you checked your mail and noticed a nice red and white envelope underneath all the junk mail that piled up over the course of two weeks.

To: Y/F/N Y/L/N From: Soon to be Mr. And Mrs. Kim

You knew what it was as soon as you seen the sender. You couldn’t believe it. A year later and you’re barely hearing about this. You ripped open the envelope and took out a folded paper that let loose a couple of I Doconfetti that was inside. The paper was written in beautiful cursive writing, and you wondered who wrote it for them.

We would like to officially invite you to the wedding of Lee Mina and Kim Rowoon.

Please call the number below to RSVP your seat.

This was it. This was it. Tears began falling from your eyes. You felt like you were being dramatic, crying at your mailbox, but you couldn’t hold it in. He went through with it, and she said yes. He’s going to go through with it and marry this girl. You realized that he didn’t love you and you don’t think he ever did and ever will.

You grabbed the rest of your mail and ran inside your home. You slid against your door, your crying continuing. You tried to stop crying, but years of held back tears came spilling out of your eyes. You felt like you were never going to be able to stop.

But you did. A few hours later. You missed your walk in the park and your second jog for the day. But you didn’t care.

You read the invite repeatedly. You didn’t know if you did it to torture yourself or to make sure that the invite itself was even real. Either way, you decided to RSVP. You grabbed your cell phone and dialed the number. Two rings later, a female answers the phone.

“Hi, I wanted to RSVP a seat for the,” you looked at the invite to make sure you got her name right. “Mina and Rowoon wedding.”

“Okay, and can I ask who is calling and how many extra guests will you be bringing.” The female voice was so happy and squeaky, she was beginning to give you a headache.

“It’s for Y/F/N Y/L/N, and I’m not bringing anyone. Just bringing myself,” you said simply.

“Y/N?” The female repeated your name.

“Yes?” You weren’t sure if she was simply repeating your name or if she was going to ask you something.

“As in Rowoon’s best friend?” She said even more squeakier than before.

All you did was laugh. “Uh, I’m not so sure about that. I haven’t spoken to him in about a year. So more like an acquaintance.”

The phone went silent for a few seconds, and you can hear a muffled voice yelling in the background.

“I thought I told you not to invite her!”

“Of course, I’m inviting her! She is my best friend!”

A few yells later and the female began to speak on the phone again. This time, you knew you were talking to Mina.

“Okay, well your seat is officially RSVPed,” Mina said and then hung up. You didn’t even get a chance to say thank you, but you didn’t care if you didn’t anyway.

::

Two months later, spring had the flowers blooming and the cold air was now a warm breeze that you enjoyed. Today was the wedding and you were so happy you went dress shopping a month in advance.

You found a beautiful red dress, since the wedding is red and white themed, and found a nice pair of white pumps to go with it. You drove yourself to where the wedding was taking place and you didn’t know the wedding was going to take place at someone’s rich home until you got there.

So many people whom you didn’t obviously know were there and you felt so out of place. All you did was stand there awkwardly, hoping you would see someone you knew.

“Hey little red,” a familiar deep voice said from behind you. You turned around and was faced with a man dressed nicely in a tuxedo.

“Jaewook?! Oh my goodness, you got tall from the last time I seen you! Which was what? When you were fifteen?” You walked up to him and hugged him. He was now taller than you and smelled a lot better.

“Yeah. Look at you,” he said looking you up and down. “You lost weight and you look so good. Like, you look hot.”

He winked at you, and you swatted his shoulder. Same ol’ Jae.

“So, are you Rowoon’s best man?” You asked him.

He shook his head and gave me an angry look. “No. He chose Mina’s brother instead of me. Who does that?”

That surprised you. Rowoon used to be all about his family and he just ditched Jaewook out of his wedding like that, but all you did was shrug your shoulders.

“I honestly thought Rowoon was going to end up marrying you. You guys were like those two popsicles that come joined together. It was always hard to split you two apart.”

You smiled at the memories that came into your mind, but then frowned. “Yeah, but I haven’t spoken to Rowoon in over a year. He hasn’t called me and when I tried calling him, he changed his number. Then when I tried going to his house, he no longer lived there.”

Jaewook shook his head in disbelief. “This man is so hung up on getting married that he ignored his best friend, moved in with his fiancée, and has her brother as his best man just so he can marry her.”

“Not to mention that he loves her. He’s not just doing this to marry her,” you mentioned. Jaewook wrinkled his forehead and shook his head again.

“I don’t know why he does. Have you met the woman? She is fifty shades of crazy.” Both you and Jaewook laughed and continued making jokes about Rowoon ‘s soon to be wife.

“So that’s what you two do when I’m not around?” Rowoon ‘s voice sounded behind you and your heart began to crash against your ribcage.

“Aw come on Rowoon. We’re just having some fun,” Jaewook said. You still hadn’t turned around yet, scared of your actions and words when you do.

“I don’t consider making fun of my fiancée fun,” Rowoon said angrily. You turned around and made eye contact with him. His face seemed more chiseled, and his hair grew so much longer.

“Hello to you too. Long time no talk, don’t you think?” You said annoyed.

Rowoon ‘s tense shoulders relaxed at your words and his eyes changed from angry to worried. “I’m sorry I never called you.”

You put your hand up as if to cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m just here to see you marry the one you love, and then I’m out of here.”

“Y/N, hear me out please. I actually really need to tell you something in private,” Rowoon said lowly.

You looked at Jaewook and he raised his eyebrows and walked away.

“What do you want Rowoon?”

“Let’s take this somewhere more private.”

He grabbed your hand and dragged you to the inside of the home. He pulled you up the three-story spiraled staircase and pulled you into a room that looked as if he was getting dressed in it.

You crossed your arms and waited for him to speak as he locked the door. He turned around and ran up to you and hugged you. His body crashed into yours and he knocked the wind out of you. All you did was hug back until he let go.

“What was that for?”

“I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I missed you so much, Y/N. You have no idea.”

“Why didn’t you ever come see me then? Or call me?” You said stepping away from him.

“I couldn’t. She didn’t let me. She threatened to leave me if I didn’t change my number and move in with her. Not to mention, she threatened to leave me if I spoke to you. She even told me not to invite you, but I just had to. It’s not like she would cancel the wedding after the invites went out anyway.”

All you did was place your fingers on your forehead and shake your head in disbelief.

“What? Speak to me please. Tell me what’s wrong,” he begged. He walked up to you and grabbed your hand, but the feeling was too intimate for you, so you pulled away. “What did I do?”

You let him have it.

“What did you do? It’s more like what you didn’t do. Two years ago, you began drifting away from me and always making up excuses as to why we couldn’t hang out. Why? Because of Mina. You promised me you would call me about your good news, and I waited for a month before I realized you weren’t going to call. Why? Because of Mina. I tried calling you numerous times only to find out that you changed your number. Why? Once again because of Mina. You moved and didn’t tell me because of her. I cried myself to sleep, most nights, because of how much I love you. I began bawling my eyes out like a hormonal teenager in front of my mailbox when I received your wedding invite and didn’t stop crying until that evening. All because of Mina. Mina, the woman who made you change your number, made you move, made you have her brother as your best man, made you lose contact with your best friend because why exactly? Because she’s controlling. I don’t understand how you cannot see that if a person loved you, they wouldn’t put you through those things.”

Hot tears were burning down your face and you knew your makeup was ruined. But you didn’t care. You had to let it out. Rowoon just stood there gaping at you. You tried to clean the runny makeup on your cheeks, making your hands black from your eyeliner and mascara. The silence in the room didn’t bother you because you knew it would take Rowoon some time to process.

“You love me?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he was confused or if he was worried that you love him.

“All of that and the only thing you managed to process was that I loved you,” you laughed at him and grabbed a tissue from the dresser that was in the room. You turned your back to him and faced towards the mirror that was connected to the dresser and began wiping your face.

“Yes. I do. I have since high school. I even told you, but you took it the wrong way. I’m not expecting some pity party here. So please, spare me.”

You continued wiping your makeup, doing a pretty good job at making it look like you weren’t crying. When you were done and you turned around, Rowoon was gone, but you weren’t surprised.

The wedding began and you were seated at the worse table ever. You couldn’t see the bride walk down the aisle and you could barely see anything going on. You were, however, able to see Rowoon, which was enough for you.

“Dearly beloveds and honored guests, we are gathered here today to witness the giving and receiving of the marriage vows. Marriage is an institution ordained of God and is not to be entered into lightly or in jest and only after much consideration.”

The man began to speak, and you were already bored. You always thought that the best part about weddings was the end. The man continued talking, even reading some scriptures from the bible, and you almost fell asleep. The man continued to speak, but you knew it wasn’t straight from the bible because he was speaking in the English that you understood.

“Do you, Lee Mina, take this man, Kim Rowoon, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and health, to love, honor and obey, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto him for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer ‘I DO.’”

She squealed and laughed as she said her I Do. You cringed as she continued to laugh and rolled your eyes when she mentioned out loud how excited she was.

The man began to speak to Rowoon. Not that you could physically see, but by the vows he was saying, you assumed he was. “Do you, Kim Rowoon, take this woman, Lee Mina, to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in heath, in good times and woe, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself solely unto her for as long as you both shall live? If so, answer 'I DO.’”

Rowoon quickly said I Do, but you didn’t see a smile on his face.

The man began to state, “If there be anyone present who may show just and lawful cause why this couple may not be legally wed, let him speak now or forever hold his peace.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before a voice boomed unexpectedly. It was none other than Jaewook’s.

“Rowoon, you know you can’t marry her,” Jaewook began. Jaewook was wobbling down the aisle and you knew he went straight to the bar when he left earlier. You quickly got up and ran to him, making a huge scene as you tried to pull him away, but he was too strong. “You’re marrying the wrong girl!” Jaewook continued to yell.

“Jae, be quiet. Let’s go,” you said hushing him and trying to pull him away from the wedding arbor. He pulled himself away from you and tried to steady himself.

“No! He has to marry you!”

The whole crowed gasped and turned towards you, and you didn’t move at all. You couldn’t believe Jaewook just said that in front of everyone.

“She loves you, Rowoon. How can you not see that she loves you and Mina doesn’t?” Jaewook slurred his words and began losing his balance and you ran to him and caught him on time before he fell unconscious to the ground.

“Get them out of here,” Mina demanded to Rowoon. You looked to Rowoon, and he had a sad expression on his face.

“I’m so sorry, Rowoon. I had no idea he was going to do this,” you told him. You were on the floor trying to pick Jaewook up, but he was just too heavy.

Mina walked up to you and pointed her scrawny skinny finger at you. “You! You’re the reason why I even started having problems in my relationship! Then you had to come here and ruin my wedding as well!?”

Almost instantly, she quickly drew her hand back and brought her hand against your cheek, burning your face as you quickly grabbed your cheek with your hand.

“Homewrecker!” She screamed and walked back to Rowoon and held his hands again. Rowoon continued to look at you and Jaewook with a doleful look and Mina dismissed you and Jaewook. “Ignore them. Please continue.”

But the man didn’t continue the vows. Rowoon dropped his hands from Mina and walked up to you and Jaewook. He brought his hand to your stinging cheek and softly caressed your face. You closed your eyes as his soft hand began to cease the pain and you felt like you were going to spontaneously combust when his lips crashed onto yours. You pulled back because you were surprised but Rowoon just pushed his kiss in deeper. That really made the crowd gasp and whisper.

His hand was still on your cheek as he slowly pulled away from your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

“What?!” Mina yelled. “You love me! You cannot do this to me! This is my day!”

Rowoon looked back at her and laughed. “Not anymore it isn’t. I don’t love you anymore and I would never marry a rotten person like you.”

Rowoon turned his back on her and helped you and Jaewook off the floor. The three of you walked out, you and Rowoon both feeling relieved. You could still hear Mina screaming and crying, and when you looked back, she dramatically dropped herself to the floor, her face in her hands.

“And so, a week later you and dad got married?” Your daughter, June, asked. You nodded and continued to hug her as you both scrolled through the photo album of your wedding day. There was a picture of Rowoon smiling and laughing, which made you smile as well. You remembered how happy the both of you were and how happy Jaewook was to finally be Rowoon ‘s best man.

“What are my two favorite girls doing?” Rowoon asked as he walked in and plopped himself on the couch right next to you.

“Mom was telling me about the drama you two had when Mina was your girlfriend,” June said.

Rowoon just laughed. “Yeah, those were two crazy years. But I’m happy that your Uncle Jaewook objected during the wedding, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have noticed what a terrible person Mina was.”

“I heard my name,” Jaewook said walking into the living room with a beer. “I told your dad numerous times that she was one crazy chick.”

Rowoon rolled his eyes and smiled. He placed a kiss on your head and entwined his fingers with yours.

“I love you so much,” he said as you placed your head on his shoulder.

“I love you, Rowoon.”

[soft--dragon]

Mining

Imagine this in an au where no war never happened and Dream was nice to Tommy without manipulating him :) I want my boys to be happy okay I'm soft for them all (I wrote this to help me with Tommy's latest stream cause it ✨h u r t✨ )

Word Count: 2,250

Warnings: None

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

This was based on this prompt here I hope you enjoy this ^^

Tommy ran across the flower dotted fields, eyes bright and sword in hand. Dream ran beside him, occasionally glancing at the teen.

"You keeping up okay?" He asked.

"Yeah!" Tommy grinned, though Dream could see he was struggling to breathe.

"You should put the sword in your inventory" Dream advised, "the weight won't slow you down."

"There are mobs Dream" Tommy replied firmly, "I feel safer with it."

"Fair enough" Dream nodded but made sure to slow down a bit so Tommy could keep up.

Tommy had gone to Dream begging him to come along on a mining trip and to tell him about his speedrunning adventures. Dream would've declined but Tommy had seemed so excited by the idea that Dream really couldn't say no to the teen. Besides, he might be able to get to know the kid better. He was still pretty new to the server.

The pair stopped at a river, Dream only slightly out of breath, years of speedrunning training his body for this type of thing. Tommy on the other hand was bent over, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

"You gonna be alright?" Dream looked at him, a little concerned.

Tommy nodded again, instantly straightening up to smirk at Dream. "Please, I feel fine! I'm like a running machine, Big D!"

Dream screwed up his nose though he was smiling a little. "Don't call me that."

Tommy laughed, saluting. "Sure thing Big D!"

Dream groaned rolling his eyes. "C'mon, breaks over, we need to head to the cliffs to find a good cavern for resources."

Tommy sighed. "Gimmie a second to catch my breathe would ya? I'd like to live to see Tubbo's birthday."

"A running machine you said? Wouldn't that mean you don't need time to breathe?" Dream teasingly poked Tommy's side.

He didn't expect Tommy to violently flinch away, holding his side as he stared at Dream.

"What the fuck was that for?" He snapped.

Dream blinked. "Sorry, I was just...are you hurt?"

Tommy glared at him, pink starting to dust his cheeks. "I'm fine" he grumbled, "just don't do that."

Dream wanted to ask but refrained. Maybe Tommy had a thing with touch? But he was commonly seen hugging Tubbo and Wilbur...

"Sorry" Dream apologized again then motioned towards the moutain, "shall we continue?"

Tommy nodded, avoiding eye contact. Dream blinked at the lack of a snarky comeback. Was the boy still not comfortable enough around him for contact? Had he overstepped?

Dream pushed the thought aside. He'd spent a few weeks around Tommy, they'd given each other friendly shoves before. He probably just didn't expect the sudden touch.

"C'mon" Dream gently nudged the boy's shoulder, relieved when the boy shoved him back lightly.

They continued up the cliff side, Dream tossing blocks to Tommy whenever he needed them. All the while, Dream kept thinking back to the odd reaction Tommy had had earlier.

He might actually be hurt, the boy was terrible about taking care of himself if the stories Wilbur had told him were any indication.

Dream sighed, mining the dirt in front of him and pulling himself up on a sturdy ledge. They were about half way up the hill. Dream knew there was a trusty cavern close by perfect for mining. The amount of ores in there had barely been unearthed.

Dream looked over the edge where Tommy was climbing.

"How you doing kid?" He called.

"Fantastic!" Tommy sarcastically shouted back, his exhaustion clear in his voice. "How much further to the caven?"

"About five minutes, we'll take a break here" Dream replied.

Tommy grumbled something heaving himself up onto the edge of the grass block. "Fuck-!" He shouted in alarm.

Dream lunged down to grab Tommy's wrist as the boy's foot slipped off the grass block. Tommy gasped, staring up at the older boy.

"Dream! Don't let go!" He yelled, his feet scrambling for a foot hold.

"I'm not going to!" Dream grunted. "Stop moving around so much!"

Tommy forced himself to go slack. Dream yanked his arm up, tossing Tommy directly into his chest, causing him to topple over. They landed in a heap on the ledge, Dream practically hugging the boy to his chest. Tommy seemed equally shaken, gripping Dream's shirt tightly in his fists. The pair took a moment to breathe before Dream carefully pushed Tommy back to study his face.

"Are you alright?" He asked, almost tempted to take off his mask to get a clearer look at the kid.

"F-Fine" Tommy stuttered a bit, glancing over his shoulder at the edge of the cliff.

Yeah, that was bullshit.

Dream sat up, Tommy in his lap and held him at arm length. "Did you slip cause you couldn't get a footing? Or are you hurt? God please don't tell me you're hurt- actually do, I don't want Wilbur to kill me Tommy, are you hurt?"

He was rambling he knew he was but the heart attack he nearly had from almost losing Tommy sent his brain into mother hen mode.

Tommy laughed a little, putting his hand on Dream's mask and shoving him back. "I'm fine Dream, relax."

"I'm being serious Tommy" Dream batted Tommy's hand away. "Are you hurt, yes or no?"

"No" Tommy rolled his eyes, "god, you sound like Wilbur right now."

Dream glared at Tommy behind his mask. "I'm gonna make sure you're not lying."

"Ughhhhh fine" Tommy crossed his arms, pouting like a child.

Dream gently pressed his fingers against Tommy's arms to test for any sore spots, relieved when Tommy didn't react further than an annoyed eye roll.

"Uncross your arms" Dream told him.

Tommy blinked. "What? Why?"

"You might've bruised your ribs when I grabbed you, you hit the dirt pretty hard" Dream explained, "uncross em."

Tommy hesitated then lowered his arms slowly. Dream waited until they were all the way down then carefully moved his fingers around the bones. Tommy flinched and grabbed Dream's hands.

"You did lie to me unbelievable" Dream huffed. "How sore are they?"

Tommy wasn't looking at him, still keeping Dream's hands from touching him again. "I'm not hurt" he insisted, his voice high.

"Bull" Dream retorted, "you literally winced, Tommy just let me help you-"

"It didn't hurt alright?" Tommy finally lifted his head to glare at Dream.

A blush was burning his cheeks and ears, eyes flicking away from Dream's face to the ground.

Dream stared for a second, trying to put the pieces together. Then it clicked.

Oh.

Oh now that was interesting.

Dream smiled a little. "Tommy, if we're gonna do this whole mining thing, we need to trust each other, right?"

Tommy looked at him and nodded.

"Okay, so with that being said, can you let me check to see if you're injured anywhere else?"

Tommy pursed his lips together, eyes dropping from Dream's face to the grass. "F-Fine just don't-"

He cut himself off with a yelp as Dream poked his stomach.

"See!" Dream said, though he was smiling. "I told you that you were hurt!"

"No Dream, it doesn't hurt-" Tommy tried to explain but Dream prodded his stomach repeatedly making him squeak and slap a hand over his mouth.

"Tommy come on now, if you're in this much pain you got to let me know" Dream told him. "How badly does this hurt? Give me a rating from one to ten."

His hands shifted to poke at Tommy's hips. The boy squealed and broke into laughter, trying to shove Dream's hands away.

"Why are you laughing Tommy? This is serious!" Dream said, his grin while hidden by his mask, was evident in his voice.

"Yohohou're tihihihickling mehehe yohohohou jeheherk!" Tommy accused through his stream of giggles.

"Tickling you? I'm not tickling you Tommy I'm trying to see if you're injured!"

"Dreheheam I swehear to gOHOHOHOD!"

Dream glanced down at his hands to see them poking around Tommy's navel. He chuckled.

"Judging by that reaction you must've really hurt yourself here Toms, I'd better stay here to make sure you're not internally bleeding or something."

"No! No no no nohohohoho! Dreheheham!" Tommy squirmed in the older boy's lap, trying to escape the barrage of tickles.

"Hey, no, no getting out of this Tommy, you told me I could check for injuries" Dream pulled Tommy back until the boy was cradled in his arm, Dream's free hand scuttling around Tommy's stomach.

Tommy shook his head, covering his face with one hand while trying to bat Dream's hand away with the other. "Dreheheheheam!"

Dream giggled quietly. The boy was loud and a bit brash sure, but this? God, Dream was gonna remember this forever. He shifted from Tommy's stomach to his sides, where this whole thing really started.

Tommy squirmed, leaning back into Dream's arm as he laughed freely. His hand still covered half of his face, but Dream could see the pink tinge to his ears and cheeks.

Okay, that's was adorable.

Dream eased up a bit, but kept his hand resting on Tommy's stomach. The boy seemed to realise it had stopped about a minute after Dream actually had. He lifted his hand a little to peek out and immediately dropped it back when he saw Dream looking at him.

"That was cute" Dream teased.

"Shut the fuck up" Tommy groaned, "I'm not cute."

"You really are" Dream poked at his cheek making the boy's nose screw up. "Cuteinnit."

"I'll stab you" Tommy threatened.

"How could you stab me if you're too busy laughing?" Dream pinched at Tommy's hips making the boy squeal and break into a fit of giggles.

"Fuck off" Tommy slapped the hands away, drawing his knees to his chest to protect the area.

Dream laughed a little, ruffling Tommy's hair. "You really aren't hurt though?"

"Yeah yeah I'm fine" Tommy huffed.

"If you say so, buuuuut" Dream dragged out the last word. "It would truly be a shame if you injured your feet somehow, imagine that, you wouldn't be able to outrun mobs, maybe I should check they're not hurt too?"

Tommy stared at Dream for a moment then scrambled to get out of Dream's arms.

"C'mere Tommy!" Dream laughed cheerfully, grabbing Tommy in a bear hug and falling back with him.

"Fuck off Dreheham!" Tommy yelled, but giggles were already peppering between his words. "No no no! Let gohoho!"

"Why? I just want to make sure my friend isn't in any pain Toms," Dream told him, rolling over and pinning Tommy to the ground.

"You're just gonna tickle mehehe!" Tommy tried to sit up but Dream's weight kept him down.

"What an accusation! I would never do such a thing in this kind of situation!" Dream pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Now, be a good lad and just stay still while I conduct my analysis."

"Fuck off!" Tommy shot back, a wobbly smile on his face as he felt Dream tug at his shoes. "Dreheheam! Wait wait wait-"

Dream giggled again. He used to this with George and Sapnap all the time. He missed the playful feeling that came with it.

Tommy's shoes dropped from his feet and Dream paused for a moment, hands poised by the arches. Tommy was giggling quietly behind him, the anticipation making him nervous. The silence stretched on for a bit before Tommy finally got brave enough to ask; "Dream?"

Dream instantly skittered his fingers up and down the boy's feet making Tommy throw his head back with a loud shriek, hysteric laughter following.

"NOHOHohoho! Dreheheham!" Tommy squirmed on the dirt, kicking his legs the best he could.

"Damn Tommy I think your feet might actually be more injured than I thought!" Dream exclaimed, "that's okay though, I know some methods to get them back into working order."

Dream then started gently tracing Tommy's toes while his other hand scratched around the soles.

"FuhuHUHUCK! YOHOHOU BIHIHITCH!" Tommy cackled, covering his warm face with his arm, desperately trying to evade Dream's fingers.

"Tommy I told you to stay still! You're not being very cooperative" Dream shook his head.

"FUHUHUHUCK OFF!"

"Hey! I'm trying to help, there's no need to be rude" Dream sped up his fingers pace as punishment.

Tommy seemed to realise this as he immediately backtracked. "I'M SOHOHORRY! DREHEHEHAM PLEHEHEHESE!"

Dream chuckled and stopped his fingers, getting off of Tommy's legs. The boy melted into the grass, child like giggles spilling from his mouth. Dream smiled fondly, sitting cross legged beside the boy.

Tommy eventually calmed down enough to look up at Dream. "Bitch" he said simply, glaring.

Dream laughed. "Sorry couldn't help it" he said. "You good?"

"Yeah" Tommy sat up, tugging his shoes back on. "But you're dead to me."

Dream laughed again, slinging an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Aw come on, you love me really."

"I really, really don't."

Dream pouted then tazed Tommy's side making him yelp, flinching away.

"Hehey!"

Dream snickered and stood, offering a hand to Tommy. "C'mon, we've still got a little bit to go then we'll be at the cavern."

Tommy took his hand, hefting himself up with the older's help. He hesitated then asked, "can you tell me about your first manhunt with four hunters?"

"Yeah sure," Dream smiled, his heart softening when Tommy's eyes lit up. "I think I started it with me slapping Sapnap in the face then making a break for it."

Tommy laughed, listening intently to every word as Dream led the way to the cavern.