#in the event this is my last post for the night: gn all! happy new year and welcome to 2024. can you believe we made it?

[piningpercussionist]

ooc

Just wanted to give a big thanks to everyone who contributed to the party stuff today! When I'd originally come up with the idea I didn't think it'd be outside the scope of my blog, but it's sick as hell that it did end up traveling

[konigbabe]

PERISH

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x gn!reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/warnings: no y/n; manga spoilers (post Shibuya timeline); canon-compliant; angst; death; emotional breakdown; hurt/no comfort; loss; grief Summary: For the first time in a long time, Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks. Happy start of JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

November 2018 8 minutes until Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

"Don’t worry, I’ll make it on time. I’m right behind the corner."

"We can wait," Yuji’s voice carries through the car, the static of the Bluetooth speaker occasionally cracking.

It feels like years have passed since you last saw him. Sealed away in the prison realm, Gojo’s state remains a mystery. There’s no telling how being locked in a place where time and space don’t exist can affect even the strongest minds.

That’s what worries you. What if he’ll break? What if he goes crazy on all of you? What if he explodes; wipes you all out with his technique? An endless sea of ‘what if’ swirls inside your mind as you take another turn, the mountains on your left with an ocean view on your right.

"Don’t," you reassure the youngster, "don’t wait any longer."

"You should be here, though," Megumi jumps into the conversation, "You’re closest to that idiot. He’ll want to see you."

His words draw a smile on your lips. It’s finally happening. The sleepless nights are coming to an end with the arrival of your lover.

"Then I’ll just opt for a dramatic entrance while you keep him busy," you respond before tightening your hands on the wheel. A familiar feeling washes over you; sudden knowledge of a new presence. Heart picking up, your eyes search the road for the source while the car’s speed slowly drops.

32 seconds; that’s how long it takes you to locate the source. A curse spirit manifestation stands in the middle of the road, blocking you. Its small hunched build stands a mere meter above the ground; four arms decorated by translucent fins hanging by its body, the prehnite skin glistening in the last rays of today’s sun, giving off a wet, moist appearance.

"Boys," you announce, stopping Yuji’s and Megumi’s bickering while still keeping up the cheerful, light voice in an attempt to not raise suspicions about your current predicament, "don’t wait any longer. Unseal Satoru and stop worrying ‘bout me. It’ll be fine."

Bringing the car to a slow halt, Yuji’s tone shifts into a more attentive one as your name seeps through the speaker before you hang up after one more reassurance.

As you step out of the vehicle, the curse's malevolence engulfs the air, almost tangible in its intensity. It clings to the atmosphere like a poisonous fog, penetrating your senses with a pungent sulfuric odor that threatens to overwhelm you.

Your hand slips inside your jacket to retrieve a carefully preserved seal, reserved for such precarious situations; just like this one.

"I’m sorry," with every footfall, the curse seems to shrink in size, yet its malicious nature grows stronger, the smell of sulfur almost suffocating, "but I’m in a hurry right now and you," pointing the parchment paper towards the spirit, "are in my way."

Swift and precise, your movements carry an aura of practiced precision. With little effort, you firmly press the seal upon the spirit's head, causing it to stumble momentarily before dissipating into thin air, vanquished by the power contained within the sigil.

Yet, the energy lingers.

Stronger than before. Stronger than a second ago. Its absent defense, non-existent attempt to fight or flee…it all makes sense now —

A powerful grip; a strong hand adorned with talons as keen as the finest blades dig into your shoulder as an inhuman force pushes you to the side.

As you're thrust aside, your vision catches a subtle glimmer of chrysolite, a hue that seeps into your perception; its scales are sturdy, each edge honed to a dangerous sharpness. Driven by instinct and the will to protect yourself, you reach out, your hand making contact with the curse spirit’s scaly hide.

The jagged edges of its scales cut into the delicate flesh of your fingers, leaving trails of crimson in their wake.

— it was a decoy.

Your body collides with the unforgiving side of the mountain, back meeting the rough and unyielding surface. A symphony of pain resonates within your bones, their structural integrity compromised as multiple cracks reverberate through your form.

Gasping for breath, your body instinctively seeks solace, but find none amidst the terrain. The curse doesn’t wait either. Swiftly moving forward, it lunges at you. Unforgiving. With a clear intent to strike. To kill.

During Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

There is no pain. The moment the curse’s hand breaches the barrier of your chest, you expect it. Expect some kind of visceral reaction. But there’s none — a gentle pinch, akin to a fleeting touch when the sharp claws first pierce through the protective layers of your breastplate. A slight discomfort upon the feeling of having a foreign object that’s found its place within the confines of your ribs. The barrier of your rib cage offers minimal resistance, yielding to the relentless advance that seeks to reach the very core of your being. The heart.

It all feels confusing.

"Kenjaku sends his regards," it whispers, the words slurred by the razor-sharp fangs that protrude from its mouth.

October 31, 2018 — 8:09 PM

"What’s the worst that can happen?"

Satoru saunters around the corner of the table, his presence punctuated by the audible slurping of juice from a small cartoon container. All while your palms rest on top of the said furniture, fingernails tapping at the surface.

The news has spread fast through the jujutsu community, faster than wildfire. Whispers of an unknown curtain cast around Shibuya an hour ago, trapping all non-sorcerers, innocent civilians, inside its insidious grasp with only one demand: Bring Satoru Gojo.

"Don’t say it like that, Satoru," you turn to face the man whose casual and dismissive demeanor only adds fuel to the worries setting inside your bones.

"They’re a bunch of curses," his hand finds its place on your hip bone while placing the empty container away, "Some special grades, yeah, but they’re weak compared to me. I’ll deal with them, save some people in the meantime, and bam," he snaps his fingers loudly, "We can go home. Get that sunset date you’ve been babbling about. Life is good," he finishes with a kiss on the crown of your head.

Life is good.

You watch the sun dip below the horizon behind the curse spirit’s back, indulging the sinister being in a halo glow.

Yeah. In the end, life was good.

2 hours and 48 minutes after Satoru Gojo’s unsealing

For a moment, he stands still. Unable to look down; frozen in time. The weight of it all seems to bear down upon his shoulders – now that Sukuna’s taken over Megumi’s body, Nanami’s and Yaga’s death, Suguru’s body being used as a vessel, the slow crumbling fall of the Jujutsu world – and now you; being gone.

Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer of the current time. Yet even his immense power proves futile as the people he loves keep dying on him…because of him.

A burden that threatens to crush him beneath its insurmountable gravity.

The air around him hangs heavy with sorrow, as if the very essence of grief has manifested itself in the atmosphere. A storm of emotions swirls within him; a combination of disbelief, anguish and a gnawing ache that gnashes at the core of his being.

He clenches his fists, fingers trembling with a mixture of sorrow and determination. In that agonizing moment, he finds the strength to finally lower his gaze, to confront the devastating truth that lies at his feet.

Everyone holds their breaths, the weight of his misery echoing in the silence as his eyes meet the lifeless visage of the one he holds dearest.

Of you.

Hand reaching out, his fingers graze the once-soft flesh of your hand; now cold and stiff. It serves as a confirmation of reality. There’s no getting you back, no way Shoko can nurture you back to health with her technique.

You’re gone.

And in that harrowing instant, the façade crumbles. The walls he built to contain his pain come crashing down, and Satoru Gojo, the epitome of strength, breaks.

Crumbling down on his knees, the vulnerability that spills forth from his broken form is raw and unrestrained. Only a handful of those closest to him stand behind to witness the symphony of torment that pierces the silence. Tears stream down his face, each drop carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words, moments you two could’ve spent together.

One hand covering his mouth to silence the guttural sounds, the other reaches out to you, tenderly cradling your lifeless head upon his lap. He clings to the fragile hope that if he could provide just enough warmth and love, you might return to him.

Yuji looks around the room, at the people who silently observe their friend fall apart. Taking a step towards the hunched man, a soft grasp stops him mid step; Kiyotaka shakes his head, pushing his glasses back in place as Shoko looks down. For the first time, she’s unable to figure out her classmate, her childhood friend, the man whose side she’s always stayed by.

"Gojo," Yuji doesn’t allow Kiyotaka to stop him. Believing in what’s right, he stands behind his teacher’s back.

Hand laying on the tense muscle of his shoulder, he doesn’t attempt to comfort Satoru with any words — no words in this universe would bring you back anyway. Instead, his hand just rests there. Unmoving. Gentle.

"Who did it," his words cause Shoko to look back up as Satoru, stone-faced and stoic, speaks in a firm, devoid voice. Imagines of unspeakable horror flashes in his mind as he stands up, towering over the wide-eyed Yuji.

"Tell me now," his eyes search Kiyotaka’s, voice filled with undeniable authority, "I’ll kill them, kill them all."

[thisonehere]

Under the Mistletoe

Mk kharacters x GN reader

Summary: Johnny's hosting a holiday party and you find yourself under the mistletoe with a kombatant.

A/n: Happy New Years!!! It's been a good little minute since I've done any headkanons. I know I haven't been posting much lately, I'm sorry about that a lot's been going on these last few months. This year I plan on being way more productive with my writing.

C/w: Heat, Slight smut, sloppy kissing, tongue, mentions of blood, violence and bruises

Bi-Han

He wasn't originally supposed to be here.

Johnny didn't want to invite him, considering all the recent drama (and because he still owed Johnny for the vase), but you insisted. You felt bad because the alternative was him spending the holidays alone.

You all thought Bi-Han wouldn't show up, Bi-Han wasn't a fan of the holidays, neither was he really the funnest at parties.

You were all surprised when Bi-Han did come. It was all so awkward. There was a lot of tension in the air, many fearing that at any given second, Bi-Han would explode and ruin everything.

But it didn't happen, the entire night Bi-Han stayed in a corner of the room. No one dared to go near him, not even his own brother, so he stayed there alone. He stayed there with his arms crossed leaning against the wall with a scowl in his face.

You felt your heart ache for him.

After building up courage, you walk up to him. He gives you a cold glare, but there was something oddly welcoming in his eyes.

"What do you want?" He grumbles as he gets off the walls and stands upright.

You quickly attempt to make small talk, he eyes you up and down as you try to talk to him. He still has a frown on his face but he doesn't shoo you away or giving you the feeling that he wants to be alone.

The remainder of the evening you try to create. Conversation, and Bi-Han gives you a decent response.

In truth, Bi-Han is grateful for you trying to talk to him. One of the worst parts of parties and events is that he often times end up alone, though he refuses to let anyone know that.

The holidays have always been a lonely time for him. He hated the holidays but his brothers always manage to make him enjoy just a little. But now s rift has grown between him and his brothers making it even harder to find anything to happen during this season.

You're the reason he came here in the first place. He refused to come at first, but then he learned that you personally asked Johnny to invite him, that you wanted him here.

You continue to talk, the conversation gets better. But you notice something hanging above both of you. Mistletoe. Johnny had hanged it all over the place in hopes of catching Kitana under it.

Hot red blush burns your face as you suddenly become shy. You fail to look Bi-Han in the eyes and struggle to speak. "What is it?" He sharply asks. Then he sees the mistletoe. Everything goes still and quiet as he just glares at it.

"I- it's just a dumb tradition." Your face felt like it was on fire with how hard you were blushing. "We don't have to do it." You can't anymore world's to say, your eyes are now glued to the floor.

Bi-Han glared at you, an unimpressed look in his eyes. "Pathetic." You hear him mumble as he places a hand onto your chin and forces you to look at him. "Cowardice disgust me."

He then grabs the back of your head and forcefully kisses you. His lips crash against you as his other arm wraps itself around your body

He holds you close as he kisses you, he isn't usually a romantic man, but tonight, for you, he'll make an exception.

His lips weren't as rough as you anticipated they'd be, they were surprisingly soft and warm, everything about him is soft and warm. You find your arms slowly return to his embrace as he kisses you with an unexpected passion. You mind goes numb for a second as you can't fathom that this is happening.

Finally, Bi-Han releases you. You gasp as you catch your breath and regain your composer. You pant, you stable to keep you balanced. And all the while Bi-Han resumes his harsh stare and he fixes with his cold eyes.

He continues the conversation you were having like nothing happened, you try to continue it too. But the kiss is permanently at the for front of your mind.

It's getting later in the night and the party is now whining down. All you can think about is Bi-Han's warmth, his rough lips that were soft at the same time. The way his strong arms held you gave you chills to just think about it.

Later on, you both were seen leaving the party together.

Tomas

At the prospect of being invited to a party, especially a party at Cage mansion with the Johnny Cage, Tomas was over the moon.

He was especially eager to go when he heard you'd be there. He has always had a crush on you, but he was too nervous to do anything. Maybe tonight will be different...

So you made the decision to take him home with you.

Tomas isn't one for social interactions, unless it's leading and instructing warriors or playing a part, he is quite awkward. But tonight, he was willing to try.

During the party, he does his best to be as social as possible. Sometimes he does well, other times her devolves into going on a long rant about one of his many hyperfixations.

But throughout the entire night, he has kept his eye on one thing: you. He has desperately been looking for you everywhere. Sometimes he finds you, but you're too busy or too far away for him to get to. Other times he can't find you anywhere, he asks around and he is often led onto a wild goose chase.

When the night goes on, things get darker and darker outside. Guests were already beginning to leave, and he hasn't had a chance to speak to you.

Much to his disappointment, he and Kuai were beginning to leave. He feels heartbroken, he was so excited to speak to you, he didn't know what about, but just being able to speak to you would be enough for him.

He and Kuai were walking out of the door. But then Tomas sees something at the corner of his eye.

Tomas sees an opportunity, and he bolts towards. Much to Kuai's confusion.

"Y/N!" He shouts as he quickly approaches you. You eagerly stop what you're doing totuen to face him as he steadily approaches.

As he gets to you, he accidentally slams into you and knocks you over.

Tomas grabs you by the waist, quickly catching you before you hit the ground, apologizing purfusely.

But you don't seem to mind, you actually laugh and joke about it. That doesn't stop Tomas for feeling terrible, he places a hand on the back of your head, cradling it and ensuring that it's secure, and places another hand on your lower back. He tenderly looks at you, causing you to feel a sudden load of butterflies awaken in your stomach.

Your eyes fall onto the ceiling and you what's above your head: Mistletoe.

You stare at it, wheels in your head turn as you realize what it is. Tomas, noticing you staring at something, looks up and see it too.

You both are frozen for a second as you share sheepish glances at each other, both of you too shy to say anything. Yet you give him an encouraging look.

He goes in and kisses. He over thought it every second. Should he skip some tongue in? Would you like that? Is he going kissing you too hard? Will he soft enough for you?

Both your minds went numb as you lips touch, it all feels strangely magical as the world goes silent. You become more aware of the way he holds you, so much care, so much love.

He helps you back to your feet, but your head felt awfully light from that kiss.

"Um, maybe we should go somewhere private." He says, his own face flushed. "I think we have a lot to talk about."

Kuai

As the Grandmaster of a very new and very fragile clan meant to protect Earthrealm, Kuai aoiang as little interest in parties. So he refuses to go at first, but Tomas and Harumi insist on him going.

He is firm at first on his position on not going, but they all eventually wear him down. He begrudgingly relents and agrees to go.

He is a natural when it comes to social settings. He has a cool and charismatic way about him that makes him a very chill person to be around.

He wasn't a very outgoing person though, not really a social butterfly. He kept to just Tomas and Harumi for most of the night.

One of Kuai's problems is that he is often too mild, but to him he was just right. Tomas and Harumi encouraged Kuai to let loose a little tonight.

So that's what he tried, he began being more outgoing talking to more people, even dancing a little. It felt pretty fun, but he preferred to be in a calmer setting, making having some form of a deep conversation.

He found that in you. He came across you while he was coming off the dancefloor, many cheering him as he left.

"Y/n!?!?" He was taken aback when he saw you, you were so beautiful tonight. "You look... exquisite." He sighs. You were always so radiant to him in just the simple things you do. So many times he found himself going mad at how magnificent you were, tonight you were just the same if not more.

You always loved Kuai, he was amazing in your eyes. He was gentle and sweet, so you didn't hesitate when he came to you hoping to talk.

You found a much more calmer part of the mansion to talk. A nice room with a leather couch, possibly the library, but the place was do overly decorated that you couldn't tell.

Kuai talked about the Shirai Ryu and how well it was coming along. He is especially about the one Shirai Ryu in particular, Hanzo Hasashi. He beamed with pride when talking about him, as he and Hanzo were at one point good friends.

He looked so cute as he talked about how proud he was of everyone in the clan, how humbling it was being a grandmaster and having to deal with such a big responsibility.

Eventually, the conversation got a little more casual when you talked about what you were going to do for the rest of the holidays. Kuai seemed especially interested on whether are not you'd be spending them with someone.

Before you could answer, you lay back in your chair, you notice for the first time something hovering over your head, mistletoe.

Butterflies begin swarm around in your stomach as you fix your eyes into the decoration, making sure your weren't mistaken.

Kuai looks up too, he seems less surprised by the mistletoe. He stilled seemed calm, you caught his brow arch and lips curl a little.

"Well," he sets gets closer to you "It is tradition to kiss." You rub your face hoping that the blush might come off. "And who am I to go against tradition?"

He pulls you close, sits you onto his lap. "Y/n," He says softly, almost a whisper. "Will you do me the honor of letting me kissing you?"

Did he even need to ask? He pulled you in and kissed you, his kiss was like fire. His hand rub your thigh, slowly making it's way to the inside of your thigh.

He even was so brave to the point of slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as he continues to kiss you with passion.

He lays your down onto your back on the couch. He climbs on top of you and continues to kiss you. He pulls back to undo his shirt, you help him unbutton it as things began to feel a tough hotter in the room.

"Well, it's a good thing we chose someplace private." He said as he threw his shirt off. "I suppose we'll be here for a good while."

Geras

He met you while he was moving through the dance floor trying to get back to Tomas and Harumi, who were busy talking to Liu Kang.

You are instantly attracted to him, you admire him from afar. You find your way to him later on in the night. Though he was kind of stiff

As the overseer of the timeline, Geras spends his days monitoring the hourglass and ensuring all went according to Liu Kang's plans.

He never celebrates the holidays, he never saw a reason too. He had no one else around to celebrate it with.

But he can't deny that he has a curiosity on what it would be like to have someone to enjoy these traditions with.

So when Johnny invited Geras to this holiday party, Geras accepts.

He hopes to go know what it's like to partake in such festivities with humans.

Though, he isn't the best at socializing. For the first part of the night he decides it would be festive to give people cryptic warnings and clues about their futures. One guy he just straight up told him that he had an incurable disease and that'd cause him to die an agonizingly slow and excruciatingly painful death.

Geras stayed in the corner for most of the night, unsure on what to do. He just stood there and stared at everyone, it began to creep some people out. It didn't help that he chose the darkest corner which caused his eyes to glow in a very ominous way.

The only person who wasn't scared of him was you. After building up some courage, you invite him over to have some punch with.

Geras has always had a strange fondness for you. You caught his eye as he monitored the timeline. There was a strange

It's very awkward at first, neither of you seem to know how to interact. Both of you come from extremely different walks of life so there isn't a lot to talk about.

He talks about his process of monitoring this and other timelines for potential threats.

Geras is the first to notice it above your heads. The Mistletoe. It's a strange tradition to him. He is familiar with it, a superstitious tradition thought to ensure fertility. It's useless to him, he never planned on having children. Frankly, he isn't sure he even could barely children.

Family, love, passion, things Kronika forbade him. She had created him strictly to enforce her will.

But Liu Kang did recreate him, perhaps things have changed. He can think of someone he'd like to try these things with.

He stares at it while you talk. Confused, you stop talking and look up. You feel yourself blush as you realize what's above you.

You nervously laugh, "It's-uh-it's a Mistletoe. Basically it's-"

"I am aware of what it is, Y/n, I was not created yesterday." He interrupts sternly. You must look like a tomato with how red you are. "It's alright, I didn't mean to be rude."

Then silence between you two, your eyes dart from Geras and to the Mistletoe. Geras just stares blankly at you.

Finally, after taking a deep breath, you get on your tippy toes and gently kiss Geras. taking Geras by surprise.

Gently touches his lips as he processes what just happened. And then you see something you never saw before, Geras blushing.

"...Thank you...Y/n..." He says softly, giving an appreciative smile.

He stays with you for the remainder of the night, he looks at you with a look in his eyes. Like cogs in his brain were working hard to process and understanding new found feelings.

Kitana

When Kitana was invited by Johnny, she was hesitant at first. She once thought his little attempts to woo her were cute at first, but now they were getting annoying.

Also, she didn't care much for the Earthrealm holidays.

But she decided that she'd come by for a little bit, and then return to Outworld to spend the rest of winter with her sister to help with strategizing against Shoa.

And she must admit, she did find the party quite fun. The Christmas tree being so beautifully lit, the holiday cheer in the air as the carolers sang songs outside.

She admired the decoration of the mansion. She bumped into you as she was looking around. She kindly greeted you, asking you to excuse the splotches of blood on her hands.

The Princess has always been very fond of you, you were one of the few Earthrealmers she fairly liked.

But that enjoyment quickly ended.

She seemed fairly excited, she seemed to be enamored by the holidays.

You begin to talk about holiday tradition, you share Earthrealm customs while she shares Outworld holiday traditions.

The conversation quickly transitions to you telling holiday memories from your childhood. Kitana listens intently, enraptured by your every word. But then her attention is taken by something on the ceiling, but you don't notice.

If you paid attention to Kitana's face, it looked like wheels were turning. Then something clicked.

"Y/n?" She gently asks, immediately taking your attention. "I need you to step back a few feet." You stare at her confused, but you comply. A mischievous look on her face.

When you finish backing up, she points for you to look up at the ceiling. You look up and your heart stops as you see it: Mistletoe.

You choke on air. You look back at her, you try to say. She just stares you down with a smirk on her face. She gestures with her hand for you to come closer.

You shuffle forward a little, too nervous to get too close. Kitana grabs you by the collar and pulls you into a kiss. Taking out her fan and folding to stop people from seeing you kiss.

After holding her face against you and kissing you for a few moments, Kitana is nice enough to let you go. She laughs as you stumble about trying to regain you composure.

"It seems these Earthrealm traditions are not as bad as I thought."

Reiko

No nobody knows why he's here, he wasn't invited.

Reiko knew he wasn't invited. General Kitana, Geras, and Liu Kang was walking around here somewhere. If they caught him it would be all over.

So, why is here? Perhaps he just wanted to crash the party and cause problems. That is certainly what he did. He caused quite a ruckus by being loud as possible, he pigged out almost all Christmas convections Johnny spent a fortune, he antagonised many of the guests by insulting them and trying to start fights.

He isn't usually like this, usually he is the loyal underling of General Shao, but he couldn't deny that he was still a little miffed at the Earthrealmers for winning the tournament and humiliating Outworld and the General as well as interfering with the generals plans to liberate Outworld. So his primary mission tonight was to ruin everyone's night.

And he was successful, so successful to the point that Kitana, Liu Kang, and Geras were on his tail. He had successfully avoided them for most of the night, he thought it was funny how they ran this way and that trying to find him, and he eluded them every turn of the way.

He bumped into you as he was dipping out of Kitana's sight.

"Well, hello there." The moment he saw you, he knew you'd be his next victim of the night.

As he thought of the best, most obscene thing he could say to you, you smile at him as you try to be nice. He unloaded a mass of perverted advances towards you in hopes getting a rise out of you.

He definitely would ask 'if it was bubblegum pink' if he knew of the saying. , enough for you to gasp and hide your face in shame as the blush came through.

You were familiar with Shao's wild second in command, but you didn't expect him to be so...charming. You found yourself blushing at his every word. Which isn't what Reiko was expecting usually the things he says would cause women to gasp and slap him in disgust.

But he couldn't deny, he liked seeing you like this, so he continued. Perhaps he could make more of a use of you tonight if he was lucky.

As he continues to spout his perverted advances towards, you look every which way but at him. At one point you look up to the ceiling to avoid his haunting eyes, and that's how you see it. Mistletoe hanging above your heads. You gasp as you see it.

Reiko stops talking and looks up to see what you were gasping at. He sees the strange bundle of flora hanging from the ceiling. He stares at it confused. He looks at you, his eyes demanding answers.

You quickly explain what it is, you stammer as you explain why it was hung up on the ceiling. As you tell him the tradition of kissing someone under the plant for superstition.

You watch as his eyes light up as you tell him. "Is that so?" He slowly walks up and gets closer to you. "Um...yeah, it's just a silly tradition." You say as you continue to avoid his gaze.

Reiko licks his lips as he stares at you. Before you know it, you don't even know how it began, if he initiated it or you, but now Reiko's face was against yours, his lips pressed up against your lips, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth.

His hands weren't shy as they traveled around your body, feeling and gripping certain parts as he took you in.

You surprised at how hungrily he kissed and gripped at you. It was almost to the point that it felt like he was beginning to take your clothes off.

Whatever he was about to do, you'd never find out, because in an instant Reiko is ripped off you by Kitana. She hadn't given up on finding Reiko all night, him stopping to talk to you, to make out with you, slowed him down long enough for her to catch him.

You are left in a dazed and state as you are left stumbling back. Both from the commotion that Kitana and her guards caused as well as the passionate kiss that left your brain buffering.

Despite being found, Reiko had a smile on his face as he gave a proud laugh. "Well, looks like our date has been cut short...until next time..."

As they drag him away, Kitana sends you an apologetic look as she walks away. No doubt assuming you were a victim her was accosting you.

You are left alone, you can still taste Reiko in your mouth. You are struggling to process all the madness that just occurred in front of you. You fix your clothes and hair and try to enjoy the rest of the night.

Baraka

The holidays aren't easy for Baraka. Tarkat often makes it so hard to live, especially with the fact that it took everything away from him, he struggles to feel any holiday joy.

When Johnny invited him to the party, Baraka had thought the man had gone crazy. Inviting someone infected with Tarkat to an event that could risk hundreds getting infected.

But Johnny insisted everything would be fine, Earthrealmers seem to have much more of an immunity to Tarkat compared to Outworlders.

Baraka would've refused, he should've refused. But so much of his life has been hardships, surely he could spend one night to be happy.

So there he is, he stands at the corner of the room, looking around aimlessly at the thousands of people. Music filled the air as the guess mingled and ate and were merry.

Everyone avoided Baraka, it doesn't matter if they as Earthrealmers had an immunity, they still ostracized him, avoided him, glared at him, whispered and muttered things about him.

Baraka regretted coming here. All he could do was stay in the corner, and watch as they all shot him dirty and concerned looks. He sighed, defeated. He never should have come here.

It felt like Johnny only brought him here to be spectacle to gawk and point.

He was just about to leave, until you walked up to him. You had been finding the courage to talk to him, you saw him standing all alone in and you felt you heart ache form.

Baraka stares you down cautiously as you walk up to him. You smile sweetly as you try to make small talk. Baraka doesn't shoo you away, he seemingly embraces your company.

There isn't much for you to talk about, but you still try, and Baraka appreciates it. He isn't really a talkative person, but for you he tries.

You actually get along quite well, after a few minutes of painful attempts at small talk, you finally find something to talk about.

As you talk, you eyes find their way to the ceiling, and that is how you became aware of the mistletoe hanging above your heads.

You try to stop yourself, but you audibly gasp as you look at it, causing Baraka to look at it as well.

You quickly explain what it is and what people do when they're caught under it. Baraka merely makes dry laughs at this. Not just because of his lack of lips, but the idea of you ever kissing him. Surely, you must've thought him too repulsive to kiss.

But you surprised him. After hesitating a few seconds, you slowly rock forward on the tip of your toes and you plant a soft kiss on Baraka's nose.

Baraka is taken aback by this as you softly pech his mutated nose. He was as you step back and smile at him, and all he can do is look dumbfounded.

Did you do that out of pity? Did you just feel bad for him so you decided to kiss him? Obligation? Was it out of duty to tradition?

Or...did you do it because you...liked?

Be can't help fantasize about the possibility of someone loving in such a way. For now, perhaps he'll give into the fantasy. But he's no fool, this is just for tonight. Because who could possibly actually love a monster like him.

Liu Kang

Bah! How could you ever love a monster like him?

Liu Kang hasn't always been one for parties. He has always preferred to stay at the Wu Shi and meditate in his temple.

But the Fire God decided to humor Johnny and attend the party.

Being the protector of Earthrealm as well as the Titan of time, Liu Kang was the center of attention for much of the night. So many people came to him and started conversations, maybe they ask him questions hoping to pry out some answers for major moments in their lives.

Sometimes an entire entourage would form around him. You were almost knocked down by the crowd of people as they walked past you, you wondered if Liu Kang ever felt overwhelmed by all this attention.

Finally, the crowd about him finally lightened up, giving Liu Kang a chance to slip away. That is how he came across you.

You had avoided him all night. You were always intimidated by that fact that he was the protector of Earthrealm, finding out that he was the Titan of Time as well made you officially too nervous to approach him.

You had always had Liu's eyes though. You had always been special to him. He took great care in crafting everyone's destiny in this new timeline, he especially took great care when crafting your new life.

Something about you was just so captivating about you that Liu Kang couldn't keep you out of his head indefinitely. So when he found out you were here, he decided upon himself that he'd speak to you at least once tonight.

He wasn't going to do anything too personal, just a kind smile and a kind greeting. Perhaps a little small talk and then he'd move on.

You felt your palms get sweaty as he walked up to you. You force a smile into your face as he begins talking. You remind yourself at every second not to freak out, this is just you literal maker and creator of the universe, who's also hot, nothing to worry about.

You make your greetings, you wish him a happy holiday. Liu Kang nods at this, he moves the conversation to how much progress you've made throughout this year. "You have improved so much, considering who you were originally..."

He trails off for a second. "I'm sorry?" You asked perplexed. "I improved from wha-"

"Forgive me, I misspoke." He waves his hand as if he was shooing away a thought. He is quick to move the conversation along, you don't protest, better to keep the conversation light rather than ask questions about your past lives and the place he designer for you in this timeline.

You try to move the conversation along, you talk about what you did for the holidays, who you celebrated with, how you brought in the new year. He seemed very interested in your words like they were so fascinating.

As you speak, you are none the wiser of the mistletoe that hangs above you. Liu Kang knows about it, he saw it as he walked over to you. He would really like to kiss you, but he didn't know how to bring it up.

Finally, much to Liu Kang's joy, you look up and notice it. He warmly smiles as he watches you shrink under the mistletoe, obviously stunned by this. You eyes dart from him to the mistletoe, he gives you an encouraging smile as you calm down.

"I believe you do something when found under this." He gives you a charming smile. "Um, may I?" You feel the warm sensation of his hand as he caresses the side of your face, he lovingly looks into your eyes as he admired your for a second.

His lips are soft, electrifying, you feel your body basically collapse as he continues to caress your lips with his.

Tonight is the night you learned what it was like to be kissed by a god. That was apparent as you failed to collect yourself when he finished. You were so flustered that you couldn't even think straight.

"Have lovely rest of the evening." Liu Kang smiles at you generously, he then walks away. Leaving you to contemplate the fact that you just kissed a creator god.

Johnny Cage

Tonight didn't go as planned for Johnny.

He had hoped to catch Kitana under the mistletoe and have a totally hot make out sess'.

He followed her around for a good part of the night, all the while hoping he'd catch her under one of the many mistakes he hung up across the mansion. It was getting to the point of harassment.

And he did catch her under the Mistletoe, though, he didn't get a kiss. But she was nice enough to give him some sweet chin music as she uppercut him.

She knocks him onto his ass right then and there, also knocking him out. Maybe she hit him a few more times while he was down.

Despite this, many of the partygoers still continue on with the party.

Johnny lies there for some time. You eventually feel bad for him and wakes him up.

You get Johnny to the bathroom and are nice enough to help him clean up the many bruises on his face.

Cage is a drama queen, so he overreacts to the bruises on his face. All he had was a busted lip, a broken nose, a black eye, and a few cuts and gashes all over him, nothing bad at all.

"Well, did we learn anything, Mr. Cage?" You ask as he sits in the tub clutching an ice pack over his eye. You were in his bathroom, you were alcohol onto a cotton ball.

"Okay, maybe a went a little too fa-AH" he flinched as you use the cotton ball. "A little?" You press cool cotton against the red cut on his face. "Okay, Okay, I fucked up and went too far. I should've taken no as an answer and left Kitana alone. Happy?"

"Very." You teasingly coo as you wipe all the blood of his face, you feel a little bit bad for Johnny. He deserves every last but if these injuries, to be sure. But seeing him in pain made you feel bad deep down.

"Ow! Hey, go easy on me!" He hissed in pain as you dabbed the cotton onto another wound. You look at the bloody cotton ball, with a sigh you throw it away.

As you attend to him, you thank Johnny for inviting you and tell him how much you enjoyed the party. You talking about how much you enjoyed the party seemingly puts him in a better mood.

He tries to smile, looking past the busted lip, he still had one of the best smiles you ever seen. His teeth glowed like freshly cut diamonds.

He was such a charming man when he didn't try so hard. You felt yourself melt under his gaze. Cage arched his brow, "Starstruck looks cute in you, Y/n. Say, you want to kiss under the mistletoe?" He tries his best to be smooth

"We're in a bathroom, Cage." You shake yourself out of the daze you were in. Johnny just points to the ceiling. You look up "Really?!?!" You gasp as you see quite a few pieces of mistletoe hanging from the bathroom ceiling. "What can I say, I always come prepared."

You groan as you shake you head. Then you grab him by the collar and kiss him.

Despite the bruises on his lips, Cage still has the best pair of lips you've ever had the privilege to kiss. You felt his hands tangle itself in your hair as Cage returned your hold

It's strange, a random kiss in the bathroom with a beaten up movie star is surprisingly one of the best kisses you ever had.

You pull away and so does Johnny. He has a knowing look in his eyes as he stares you down with grin on his face, as if he expects for you praise him for how good the kiss was.

It was, but you didn't feel like feeding Johnny's ego. "It was alright." You say as you rise out to your feet. "Oh come on!" Johnny insists as you walk away.

It was truly an amazing kiss, but you refused to let him see how flustered he had you as you lean against the wall outside the bathroom to catch your breath and regain his composure, his ego was big enough.

[flightlessangelwings]

Coffee Chats and Heroic Rescues

Steven Grant x gn!neighbor!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 1.7k

Warnings- fluff, minor violence, allusion to past assault/abuse but nothing explicit, protective!Steven, mutual pining, hinted appearance of Marc and Jake

Notes- Part of the Neighbor Steven Grant series but I wrote it to stand on its own too. I was really exciting to write this one, and it addresses some of the things I hinted at in earlier parts! Enjoy!

Reblogs/follows/asks highly appreciated!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to stay up to date on when I post, follow that too and turn on post notifs

~

“Hey Steven!” your cheerful voice broke him out of his thoughts as he made his way through the hallway.

He was tired; it had been another long day at the museum. And while Steven loved working there, large tour groups were always draining. His feet ached and his stomach growled from having been behind the counter of the gift shop his entire shift with no break. He was sure he looked a mess and he felt the bags under his eyes weigh heavily on his face. But when Steven looked up and saw your smiling face, everything melted away.

“Hey neighbor!” he waved back at you.

Steven loved when your paths crossed, and living right next door meant it happened a lot. The day you moved in brought a welcome and unexpected light into his life. And though you lived in separate places, Steven felt a comfort at hearing you rustle around on the other side of the wall, as if you two were roommates. 

And you… Well Steven was the most handsome man you had ever seen. And his kindness made your heart flutter in your chest. You had the feeling he had his own inner battles that he fought, but then again so did you. It was a subject neither of you brought up, though, and you were just happy to have a friend closeby.

“You look exhausted, Steven,” you closed the gap between your bodies as you rested a hand on his face. You took in a deep breath as you felt him tense under your hand, “Would…” you cleared your throat as you buried your nerves, “Would you like to come in for a coffee?”

Steven was sure he was dreaming as you looked at him with those beautiful eyes of yours. His skin warmed under your touch and he fought to keep his composure. He stuttered for a moment as he tried to form his words clearly, “I-I’d love to,” Steven’s face relaxed into a soft smile as you did the same.

“Great,” you breathed as you dropped your hand and gave his bicep a squeeze before you broke away, “Come inside!” you gestured to your door a few feet away, “It’s much neater than last time you saw it,” you chuckled nervously. 

The last time Steven saw your place was the day you moved in weeks ago. Boxes laid out everywhere, but he didn’t judge; moving was hard. He didn’t hesitate to rush over and help you as you struggled with a box that was too big for you and there was an instant connection there. Since then, the two of you chatted in the hallway in passing as you came and left from your places. But Steven always longed for more.

And so did you…

From that day, a new routine started. At least twice a week, you would invite Steven over to your place and have coffee or tea and just talk. There was a pull there that Steven felt, as if the two of you were meant to meet. And talking to you was a comfort unlike anything else. Your bright smile lit up the room and made his heart pound in his chest. Yet, Steven couldn’t help but notice a sadness behind your eyes at times too. As if you reached out to him because you needed his company just as much as he craved yours. 

And then came the day where it all came to a head and all of Steven’s intuitions rang true.

It was later than usual as Steven made his way into the elevator and up to his floor. He had texted you and let you know he would be late for coffee night, profusely apologetic as the museum stayed open later for a special event. When you didn’t reply, alarm bells rang in his head, and he rushed out as soon as he could. He had texted you again when he was on the bus home, but again you didn’t reply.

Shouts from down the hall echoed from the moment the elevator doors opened and immediately Steven’s heart sank. Even in the dim light of the hallway, he saw the outline of a large, burly man with his hand wrapped around your wrist. You had a pained expression on your face as you struggled to break free and you slapped him as hard as you could with your other hand, but it was no use.

Without a second thought, Steven bolted down the hallway and shouted in what he hoped was an intimidating voice, “Hey! Back off, wanker!”

You darted your eyes over to him and Steven couldn’t help but exhale deeply when you looked relieved to see him. “Steven…” you breathed.

“This doesn’t concern you, dickwad,” the man spat before he turned his attention back to you.

“Let go of me,” you tugged at your arm again.

“Actually, I believe it does,” Steven mustered all his courage and tried to pry you out of the man’s grip, “This is my neighbor, and I will not stand this treatment at all!”

“Steven…” a small tear formed in your eye at how he stood up for you.

Tensions ran high and rage boiled in Steven’s blood until he couldn’t think straight and suddenly he blacked out.

When he came to again, you and Steven were in his flat, two mugs of tea in his hands. You sat at his counter with your face buried in your hands. He inhaled sharply, not remembering how you got there or what happened, but he collected himself and told himself it didn’t matter for now. What mattered was that you were safe. You must have felt him staring at you because you lifted your head and met his gaze, and Steven hated to see you like this with red eyes and tears down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry you got involved,” you sighed as you wiped away your tears. 

“Don’t be,” his voice was filled with compassion as he set a hot mug of tea down, “Here.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled as you wrapped your hands around the mug, embracing the warmth. You sighed as you looked up into Steven’s eyes, “Thank you.” His presence truly was a comfort, to know that you weren’t alone and there was someone good out there who would help you. And you felt safe with him, you trusted him. 

Steven sat down and pulled his chair next to you, “It’s nothing. Just… Helping my neighbor.”

You gave him a sad look before you felt the need to explain yourself, “That’s my ex… He’s the reason I moved here. I was trying to get away from him… I guess it wasn’t good enough though since he found me,” you sighed.

The urge to rest his hand on yours overwhelmed him, but Steven was scared to touch you. He came to his own conclusions on why you went to such lengths to run away from that man, and as much as he wanted to offer you comfort, he was scared that it would backfire. After reaching and pulling his hand back several times, he lightly touched the back of your hand.

You gasped as your eyes went wide, but you made no attempt to move. Encouraged, Steven laid more weight on top of yours and gave your hand a light squeeze. A heavy exhale of relief escaped your lips and Steven gave you a soft smile.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered your name, “Whatever you need, I’ll help you get rid of that shithead for good.”

That made you laugh, and for the first time all day, you relaxed, “Thank you, Steven.”

He wasn’t sure if he imagined it but your eyes flashed down to his lips for a brief second.

“Hey, it’s like I told you,” he smiled back at you, “I’m right next door.” Before he could stop himself, Steven snuck a glance down at your own lips as they parted to let out another heavy breath. He recollected himself and added, “We’ll figure this out.” And I’ll protect you…

Your smile lit up your face the way Steven always loved to see, and it made his whole body relax as you spoke; “Right where you always are,” you listed your mug up, “Cheers, neighbor.” 

“Cheers… Neighbor.” Steven kept his true feelings buried for now; it wasn’t the right time to say anything. For now, he would just be there for you when you needed him… as your trusty neighbor. 

You stayed late into the night until Steven was sure your ex wouldn’t come back. And even as he watched you go back to your place right next door, he stood watch in the hallway for some time. Steven waited until he was sure no harm would come to you, and only when he was certain did he go back inside and lay down in his own bed. But oh how he wished he could have asked you to stay and keep you wrapped up in his arms. Steven didn’t want to cross that boundary with that, though.

Although, if he’d asked, you would have said yes.

That night, Steven had an interesting dream. In his dream, he donned black leather gloves and drove over to your ex’s house where he beat him until he couldn’t speak.

“You’re going to stay away now, yes?” dream Steven asked in a low and threatening tone.

Your ex’s blood dripped from his mouth as he lay beaten and bruised on the floor, “Y-yes.”

“I better not see you around again,” dream Steven gave him one last kick for good measure.

The next morning, you knocked on his door, and Steven leapt out of bed, worried you were in danger again. He pushed through the soreness in his body, as if his dream actually happened, and even without a mirror, Steven knew he had large bags under his eyes. But, his weariness melted away when he met you on the other side of the door, your expression bright and cheerful.

“Steven,” you explained as you pulled him in for a big hug, “I got a message saying my ex decided to move away! He won’t be around anymore!” you exhaled deeply, “That means I don’t have to move.”

The smile that lit up Steven’s face was strong enough to wash away the pain and the undereye bags, “That’s wonderful!” He had never been more relieved in his life, “I didn’t want to have to deal with new neighbors,” he chided playfully.

“Me either,” you lit your lip, “I’m rather fond of the one I have.”

Me too… Steven thought.

[writer-in-theory]

I Almost Do (Spencer Reid x Reader)

summary: after a nearly unforgivable mistake, spencer tries to rekindle his relationship with reader in the only way he knows how: written letters. series summary: a series of oneshots to celebrate the release of red (taylor's version). 19 songs, 19 fics. pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader category: angst with happy ending content warnings: language, descriptions of drug use, breakups, post-revelations spencer, brief relationship violence (spencer/reader, drug-induced), spencer's crippling trauma, mentions of torture word count: 4.7k a/n: This was originally gonna be another no happy ending, but Spencer deserves some happiness on this Halloween Eve. I want to point out that I do cover a scene where Spencer is still struggling with addiction. It's based off of my own experiences(not with drugs, but alcohol), so it may not be accurate for everyone. I hope I did it justice.

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“I just wanna tell you, it takes everything in me not to call you. And I hope you know that every time I don't, I almost do ..."

The last time you’d been on a public plane was a few years ago when you’d been invited to a compatibility interview with your potential new unit. If you concentrate enough, you could sit in that cramped seat now and feel all of the nerves you did then. You’d spent the entire flight from your field office to Quantico going over how you would respond to basic conversation questions, hoping you wouldn’t scare the team away from wanting to work with you.

Oh, if only you’d known how ‘compatible’ you really were. Maybe then you could’ve avoided all of this: wasting the last few years of your life only to end up on the same flight back to Seattle, feeling oddly like you were a little kid running away from home.

When you told Hotch that you wanted a transfer, he hadn’t believed you at first. “What did Reid do now?” he’d teased, knowing how close the two of you were. The pair of you had decided to not officially tell him you were dating if only so Hotch wouldn’t have to deal with the extra paperwork. Still, it was impossible not to see it when the team was as close as it was.

Unfortunately, those were the wrong words to say. You steeled yourself—wondering briefly how on earth there could be more tears building after all the ones you’d shed already—but this was the unit chief of the BAU, of course he was able to see right through you. “You don’t have to leave the team if you and Reid broke up,” Hotch explained as gently as you’d ever heard him, and you thought that this was a look only someone who’d been a father before could give. “You worked so hard to get here.”

“I know, and I’ll always be thankful for you believing in me. I can’t stay, I just can’t. I’d like to go back home.”

You hadn’t called Seattle home in years; it felt strange on your tongue like you were a toddler learning the word for the first time. You wondered if any city would ever feel like home again, or if you’d continue to dream of Washington. Hotch put in the paperwork and you used the rest of your vacation time in the few days it took for the transfer to be approved. It felt a little like being in high school and cutting up pictures of you and your ex-best friend. You wanted to say goodbye. It wasn’t fair to the rest of the team that they’d be finding out from Hotch you ran away from them. It wasn’t fair to Spencer that you were leaving him when he needed someone most, but the previous night’s event played on a loop in your brain enough to tell you that you two weren’t good for each other. It would hurt both of you, but it was better this way.

You didn’t have an eidetic memory, but the final time you saw Spencer was burned into your brain forever.

It was obvious something was wrong with your boyfriend. For the first few days after Tobias Hankel, you’d come over every day to help him cook, clean, and generally live while he was healing. He let you hold him, squeezing tighter when he whimpered through his nightmares. Then, slowly he started telling you he was busy more frequently until you were hardly seeing him outside of work.

It hurt, but if this was how Spencer needed to process what had happened, then you’d give him the distance he wanted. You figured he was getting support from another team member, and while you desperately wanted to be the one to hold him you were just glad he had someone.

At least, until you started seeing the warning signs. He seemed more out of focus at work, irritable, and far less empathetic than normal. Spencer was distancing himself from everyone on the team, making it clear to you that something else was going on.

Spencer was drowning, and you refused to let him suffer alone.

So one night after receiving the usual text of: ‘I’m really tired tonight, Y/N. I’m going to bed early.’, you drove over to his apartment. Light was shining through the gap in the floor and door, signaling he’d lied to you. Your hand raised to knock on the door even though you had an extra key, but paused in the air.

Was this the right move? Would he be upset that you didn’t give him the privacy he wanted? You decided you didn’t care, needing to make sure Spencer wasn’t doing what you thought he was. Of course, being on the team, you’d seen the live feed from Hankel’s house. You’d watched as he’d been drugged repeatedly, each time begging the unsub not to do it.

You’d also watched him die. For a few painful seconds, Spencer Reid had actually been lost. You had been inconsolable, falling to the ground with harsh cracks of your knees. You might’ve been screaming, begging for him to come back even though he couldn’t hear you, but your ears felt filled with cotton balls. JJ had guided you out of the room after he’d been brought back, telling you that you’d seen enough. You’d effectively been kicked off of your boyfriend’s case.

So with the image of him laying so lifeless on a dingy cabin floor still fresh in your mind, you knocked on the apartment door. “Spencer? Please open the door,” you called, hearing the tell-tale shuffling from the other side of the door.

“Please, Spence, I don’t want you to be alone. You’re really starting to scare me, and I need to make sure you’re okay.” Still nothing. After thirty seconds, the fear was enough for you to forsake the last shreds of his privacy and use your key to get into his apartment.

What you saw confirmed your worst fears. Spencer stood over his desk, a glass vial and syringe laid out in front of him. His left sleeve was already rolled up, one of his belts hanging loosely in his hand. You watched dozens of emotions alter his expressive face before he settled on anger.

“Why are you here?” he snapped, tossing the belt onto his desk with so little care you wondered how you possibly missed this for so long. It had been weeks since Hankel, and it had been weeks that your boyfriend was suffering alone.

“I was worried about you,” you admitted, finally shutting the door behind you but feeling your feet root into place there, “I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“You thought you could fix me.” There was so much bitter hate infused in Spencer’s words that it shocked you, causing your head to reel back from the blow. “I don’t need fixed, Y/N.”

“I know that Spencer, of course, I do,” you told him softly. His hair was wild, had been untamed for weeks in sharp contrast to the usual clean slicked back look. He’d always had dark circles under his eyes— ”Spencer, you can’t keep staying up all night reading.” “Why not? I can just have more coffee in the morning.” —but the ones present now were deep and looked like they might never disappear. You might’ve imagined it, but he looked thinner, maybe even sickly if you paid attention to the details. The details you hadn’t noticed for weeks. The details the entire team had missed.

“You don’t have to be alone,” you told him, finally moving from your spot at the front door.

“Maybe I want to be alone,” Spencer shot back, but you didn’t believe that for a second. You’d trained to be able to talk to victims of trauma, it was part of your specialization on the team. It was common for victims to isolate themselves to avoid spreading the darkness they felt to others. Often times they felt contaminated, poisoned, and didn’t want to ruin anyone else.

You wouldn’t let Spencer do that.

“No you don’t, Spence,” you answered calmly, proud of yourself for steadying your voice while your hands shook furiously at your sides. “You can talk to me, it’s okay. You’ll get through this.”

“If I wanted to talk to someone, it certainly wouldn’t be you.” The words were harsh, pressing another knife wound to your chest. You would wrap your hand around the hilt and push it deeper though if only it meant Spencer would get through this.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk, but I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Why not?!” You’d never seen Spencer shout like this. It was rare he’d be loud at all, even when he was happy. His anger was more diluted, cold, even calculated. This was wild, unfocused, and spontaneous. You’d interrupted his plan for the night though, and you knew the cravings likely were settling in since he’d been at work all day (and he wouldn’t risk using at work, right?). “I don’t want you here! Get out!”

“What are you gonna do if I leave, huh?” you shouted back, unable to control yourself any longer. Maybe this was a bad idea, a horrible idea actually. “I just want to help you, Spencer. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone, no one should.”

“You don’t understand what I’m going through!”

“Then tell me! Tell me, Spencer, help me understand because I’m here for you. I don’t care what you say, you’re not pushing me away.”

“Why can’t you understand that I don’t want you here? You’re the last person I want to see right now!” Spencer shouted, stabbing the knife straight through your heart. It infuriated you to no end. This was your boyfriend of years saying such hateful things. You knew it wasn’t fully his fault; you knew the cravings would drive people to say things they normally wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less or that you deserved to stand there and take it.

You’d regret saying it later. You’d sit on that plane and wonder if you’d just kept your mouth shut things would be different. “Do you see anyone else here? Because I don’t. No one else cared enough to show up, but I’m here. I’m here, Spencer.”

When you were a kid, a little boy in your class was absolutely merciless to you. He taunted you, called you every name that a third-grader could know, and would pull your hair relentlessly. You told your mother it was because he had a crush on you, he’d told you that was how he showed he liked you. It was then your mother sat you down and told you to never let anyone hurt you in the name of love. Passion was not an excuse for violence, nor was anger.

You’d like to think your mother would be proud of you now if you told her what happened.

Spencer gripped your arms painfully tight, harsh enough you were sure there’d be bruises in the shape of fingers the next day.

“Let go of me,” you snapped, hands moving to shove at his chest, “right now.”

“You didn’t actually come here for me. You felt bad so you came here to make yourself feel better,” Spencer answered instead, voice low and cold in his usual characteristic anger. It was terrifying.

“For a genius, you really are stupid. I love you, Spencer, that’s why I’m here.”

You told yourself it was the drugs. Hankel had given him a mixture of hydromorphone and a hallucinogen. Both of those could cause severe irritability and violence between high doses, who knew what would happen when taken together? Still, as Spencer pushed you away from him and your head hit the wall with a sharp crack, you knew it was over.

Tears blurred your vision but you still managed to walk by him toward the door. Never once had you thought him capable of reacting like that. You felt stupid, wondering if you’d just not gone to see him like he’d asked then everything would be okay between you two. Except, you knew better. If he was using, then it was only a matter of time before your relationship died. Somehow, this quick painful death was preferred over the slow, torturous end.

“Wait, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Spencer gasped from behind you, grabbing your wrist with only as much pressure as needed to keep you standing still. He sounded in pain, like he was shocked that he’d done it. You felt much the same way.

“Let go of me.” It was scary how neutral your voice was, dull and emotionless to keep from escalating the situation even more. There was only so much you could take before it was time to protect yourself.

“Y/N, please, don’t go,” Spencer pleaded, but when you didn’t answer he let go of your wrist as asked. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You still did it.”

Those were the last words you’d said to Spencer. You expected it to be the end of things. It was far too easy to settle into life in Seattle again. You still knew plenty of the team members after only a couple of years away.

You found an apartment, a group of friends, you found a life. Then, months later when you thought it was almost time to move on, the first letter came in.

It came to the Seattle field office, your unit chief handing it to you and reminding you that personal mail wasn’t to be directed to work. You’d sat at your desk staring at the envelope for several minutes, running your fingers over the messy scrawl and wondering what could possibly be contained within.

Dear Y/N,

There are too many things I need to tell you.

I’m sorry.

I regret that night I-

I miss you. I love you.

I have no idea what I’m doing writing to you. You’re probably never going to read this, which is understandable after what happened. We really made a mess of us.

I want you to know I’m sober. It will be eight months as of next week. As of next week, it will be eight months since I saw you. I try to picture you happy in Seattle, it’s easier that way. One day, I’d like to apologize to you in person. A part of NA is asking for forgiveness from those you hurt while you were using. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for what happened, but I want to try. You deserve that much.

-Spencer

When you didn’t answer, you thought that would be the last letter. Instead, they came fairly regularly. Spencer updated you about the team, his life, even silly little things that would have once made you laugh but instead made your chest ache.

At first, you didn’t respond because you were angry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like you had that night. That all was true, but as the years went on and the letters kept coming, you realized that it wasn’t all him. You’d antagonized him too, said hateful things that you’d lay in bed thinking about for hours. Do you see anyone else here? No one else cared enough to show up.

What shitty words to say to someone who was already struggling. Spencer had been right in his first letter: you both had made a mess of things. Both of you had said and done things that you regretted. How could either of you come back from it? If that had happened once, who was to say it wouldn’t happen again?

So each time you considered picking up a pen to answer Spencer, you ended up setting it down and waiting for the next letter to come in.

Dear Y/N,

Derek told me you became unit chief in Seattle. I’m so proud of you, I always knew you would do great things. I hope you’re happy there.

Emily left the BAU. She took a position with Interpol in London. We just got her back and now she’s gone again. People keep leaving, I’m afraid I won’t recognize the team at all in a few years. It’s making me wonder if I should leave too. Everyone keeps moving on to do better things, why am I stuck here?

I don’t know how to do anything else but be a profiler. I think I’ll be with the BAU until I either die or retire. There could be worse fates.

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

Alex left the BAU. I know you never met her, but I wish you could have. You would have liked her, I think.

It was partially my fault she left. I was shot and nearly died, I reminded her of her son who’d died years ago. She didn’t want to die violently, didn’t want this job to kill her. I think that’s what will happen to me.

I tried to move on from you. Her name was Maeve, and I think I could have loved her. She died before I could find out, and I wonder if every relationship I care about is meant to end like this.

I hope you’ve moved on. I know Penelope went to visit you a couple of weeks ago. She said you were happy, and I really hope that’s true. It’s easy to picture what your life is like in Seattle. You’d have the reading nook you always talked about building here. You would come home late from work and immediately curl up there, staring out the window at the city that’s become your new home. Do you ever think of me the way I sometimes do?

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

I never thought it would be Morgan who left next. I can’t even be mad at him because he just wants to protect his family. It’s selfish, but I’m so mad at him for it. I’m mad that he gets a family and I’m still here at the BAU with nothing.

Will I end up like Rossi? One day will I be old and gray, still clinging to this job because it’s the only thing I have left?

I saw you in the news the other day. That case was a major win for Seattle, but I hate how much you had to sacrifice for it. I never wanted you to understand what I went through with Hankel-

I hope you feel better soon. I hope you consider leaving the field, or at least undercover work. Is that selfish of me to hope you escape this job too?

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

It happened. I woke up one day and realized you wouldn’t recognize the team if you ever come back. Hotch had to leave; an unsub was threatening Jack so they went into witsec. Would you even recognize Jack? He’d been a baby when you left.

There’s only JJ, Penelope, and I now. Emily might stay on as unit chief, but for now, she’s still technically an Interpol agent.

My mom asked about you the other day. She’s not doing well, her mind is going. It’s dementia, a rapid form of Alzheimer’s that’s taking her from me. There’s going to be a time she won’t recognize me, but for now, she just gets confused. She thought we were still dating. I didn’t know how to tell her how it all got messed up. So I didn’t, I hope that’s okay.

-Spencer

Dear Y/N,

I’m sorry it took so long for me to write back. I don’t know if you’re reading these anymore, but it’s comforting to think that you are. I can’t always talk to the rest of the team about this stuff, I don’t want them to worry too much.

For the past few months, I’ve been in prison. An unsub from our past came back and set me up, prevented me from getting protective custody. She drugged me, breaking my ten-year sobriety. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty, but the weight of having to start the count over is crushing.

I think the worst part of it all was that the FBI abandoned me. I was being tried for murder and they didn’t support me at all. They were going to let me rot in prison for the rest of my life. If it hadn’t been for Emily, I would have.

I saw the way the team looked at me. It was like they could see what I was becoming in prison. I know I had to do everything I did, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling like a monster. Do you ever feel like that?

What am I talking about? You’re a star unit chief with so many awards I’m surprised you haven’t been asked to head up a unit in Quantico.

I think this will be my last letter. It’s time to stop bothering you with my life. You’ve either moved on or still hate me for what happened. I wouldn’t blame you for either. You’re doing so great in Seattle without me, I don’t want to bring that down. Goodbye, Y/N.

-Spencer

You had been on an undercover mission when the last letter came in. It wasn’t often that a unit chief goes on assignments like that, but sometimes your specific training was required. Each time you went under, you’d come back to your old life with new scars. The worst had been years ago—Spencer, I never wanted to understand the torture you went through either, you’d thought bitterly, but now I do—but still, if you closed your eyes you could feel each mark reopening.

When you were undercover, you were stunned by your dreams. Each one had been of Spencer. After ten years, what would he look like now? You’d tried to avoid watching any news coverage of cases the BAU took on. There was one time they actually came to Seattle a couple of years ago, and you’d used your vacation time for the first time since moving to this field office. You tried not to think about the BAU and what your life could have been if you stayed. Yet, each night for two weeks you imagined laying next to Spencer, older, scarred, but still the same man you knew so many years ago. You imagined coming home with him after a long day, holding each other and kissing away the pain you caused each other.

Every time you got a letter, you almost wrote back. Each time you couldn’t, never being ready to rekindle anything with Spencer. Now, though, your heart leapt at the thought that this was well and truly goodbye. No, that couldn’t happen, you weren’t ready to say goodbye.

It was midnight in Seattle, meaning it was an ungodly time of night in Washington. Still, you picked up your phone and hit the contact you never deleted, hoping it was still the same number after all this time.

He didn’t answer. Your heart sunk deep in your chest at the cruel reminder that this was your fault. He’d reached out to you for ten years, and never once did you answer. It wasn’t his fault he gave up.

Your phone was ringing. A gasp slipped from your lips as you saw the name printed across the screen, wondering if you would wake up to find this was another dream soon.

“You called.” Spencer’s voice was rough from sleep, older and more tired (in more ways than one), but still carried a hopeful tone you recognized.

“You stopped writing,” was the only thing you could think to say.

“It was time to move on like you have.”

“I didn’t,” you blurted out, hand covering your mouth as if you couldn’t quite believe the panic with which you spoke. It took two seconds to compose yourself, dropping your hand and clarifying, “I never moved on.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?”

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for ten years. I’ve wanted to call, to write back, to fly back to Quantico and beg for my job back. I miss you, Spencer.” Silence. So much silence you pulled the phone away from your ear briefly to check he hadn’t hung up. “Spencer?”

“I hurt you. What I did was unforgivable.”

“You’re right, but what I said was unforgivable too. We both were in the wrong that night, but we’re different people now. We’ve both been through so much, have changed so much. I’m not saying we start from where we left off. I think we need to meet each other again, get to know the people we are now.”

“I’d like that,” Spencer admitted, shuffling a little. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, but neither of you hung up. It was comforting just to feel his presence again after so long. “I’m sitting in that old chair by the window. I was reading, but now I’m looking out at D.C. It’s a full moon.”

You looked at your own reading nook, the one you’d finally put together after years of wanting one. The chair was the most comfortable piece of furniture you ever owned, so it was easy for you to tuck yourself into it and stare out the window at the lit-up Seattle skyline. The full moon was just visible over the buildings. “I see it too,” you whispered, chest fluttering at the thought that you and Spencer were looking at the same thing.

“I’ve missed your voice,” Spencer admitted.

“I missed you too, Spencer,” you spoke, not caring if the words were wet with the tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’m sorry I left without giving us another chance.”

“I don’t know that I believe in fate, but I would like to believe that you made the right choice for us. We needed the distance and time to heal ourselves.”

“That we did.” The words were whispered as if speaking them any louder would slice apart the moment.

“Come back to me,” Spencer pleaded, and you don’t know how many times you imagined him saying those exact words. He’d practically spoken them with each letter he sent, and each time you’d denied him.

You weren’t going to deny him now. “Okay,” you answered, still whispering.

“Really?” It hurt, but from the contents of the past few letters, you thought this was probably the happiest Spencer had sounded in a while. You hoped in time he wouldn’t be so surprised when good things happened to him.

“Do you think Emily would give me a job?”

“I think she couldn’t say no,” Spencer answered.

The two of you stayed up the rest of the night talking. He’d kept you caught up on the big changes in his life, but you wanted to hear the little things. He had stubble on his face now, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep it. He stopped drinking so much coffee and is trying to replace it with tea. He’s grown to love the winter because he can dress as cozy as he wants.

You can’t wait to meet and get to know this new Spencer. It would be a new adventure, one you’d almost taken every year for the past decade. Now, you finally felt ready.

So you jumped right in.

SERIES TAGLIST

@samuel-de-champagne-problems @alexlovescriminalminds @reidsbookclub @givemeth @eurydice-but-gay @fightingdragonswithreid @girloncorneliastreet @silverhetdanes @just-a-human-witha-pen @shemarmooresfedora @rexorangecouny

[fueledbysano]

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆, 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄. ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ

REI'S HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEVI EVENT

summary: What's important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning. But it's also important to remember that amid all the crap are a few things really worth holding on to. And to Levi, you are worth holding on to.

✧ pairing: levi ackerman x gn!reader

✧ includes: manga spoilers, post-battle, angst, fluff, very nostalgic, comfort

✧ a/n: I got all warm and fuzzy writing this, thank you so much again @levi-supreme for letting me on this event. Check out the others' works as well!

Tradition becomes our security. Even if it's not your thing, it's important that we're together.

and sometimes, it's not even clear how traditions begin.

But, you're grateful you remember this one all too well.

“ [Last Name]. ” Levi's gruff voice spoke from beside you at the kitchen counter. “Tea. at my office. I want it done in five minutes.” He asks.

It wasn't particularly a nice day for the Survey Corps, having suffered a great loss from the mission today. You yourself lost one of the members on your squad, and still haven't processed the unfortunate events.

“I'll be right there.” Levi usually didn't like other people making his drink, was he that stressed? Just randomly asking you to make him the essential part of his night routine?

You dashed through the kitchen gardens, carefully picking what to use for his drink. Mint, Ginger, Lemon?

Upon picking one of the herbs, the water was boiling by the time you got back, just in time to finish preparing his drink.

“A cup of tea for you.” The warm steam and fragrant of the beverage diffused with the cool air, urging you to have a cup yourself.

“Mm, thanks.” Levi nods, and you could only offer him a smile before heading to the doors. “I'm sorry.” What did he say?

“About your guy. He was a good kid.” He spoke. You turn on your heels, this time, meeting his gaze.

You must be lucky. “Thanks”, “Sorry”and “Good”at the SAME conversation isn't something you'd hear from Levi. “Thank you.” You nod, staying on the spot in hopes to see his reaction on the drink you've made him.

“Well, I'm sorry about all the paperwork.” You nervously laughed. “I'm used to it.” He replied, finally getting a taste of the drink with a light sip.

The flavours hit his tongue, along with the fragrant effusion that froze him right on the spot. Now, that's a good drink.

“It's chamomile.” You spoke just as you leave the office, and Levi could only watch your frame disappear.

That night was the start of something beautiful.

From then on, you'd bring different variations of tea to him, observing what he liked and what he didn't— helping you identify what to make him on a particular mood.

and sometimes, on good days, even asking you to join. Years of professional relationship with him, yet, you've never been this close. But he didn't mind.

It was the start of something personal, and essential for the both of you.

And there came December, specifically Levi's birthday.

He definitely doesn't throw a celebration for that. You remember him saying something in between the lines of “Anyone who celebrates their birthday after 5 years old is a monster.”

The headquarters was empty and silent tonight as the kids were home to their families, and you could only wish you could do the same.

It was a little past midnight when you were just finishing up getting ready for bed. But there was something bothering you— an unknown task that needed to be done.

What were you forgetting?

Right, it's the middle of the night already and Levi still haven't had his drink. Well, you're in your pyjama already.

and, Midnight? It's the next day... that's right, it's his birthday.

Now, we're talking. You had a different idea in mind that you're not so sure he'd like.

Since there were no kids today, and it's a day off work, you decided to take out the good stuff from the kitchen.

“It's me.” You spoke upon knocking on Levi's door. “Come in.” He replied quickly. Levi was reading a book on the carpet, back pressed against the couch as the fire inaudibly crackled in a distance.

“You're late... and in your pyjamas.” He remarked, turning the pages with a finger. “Yeah, sorry about that.” You replied, placing a shot glass on the table which made a loud clink.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Liquor.” You almost added a duh but that would obviously earn a blunt remark from him.

“I know, idiot. Where's my tea?” He asks.

“Man, aren't your taste buds tired of tea? Come on, just tonight.” You insist, taking a sip from your own shot glass.

“What is it?” He gives in, bookmarking the page he previously read before closing the book shut, letting it rest on the side.

“Whiskey.” You answered.

“I also happen to remember that today, you turn thirty t—” “Alright, you're done.”

“Levi! I'm joking.” You snort.

“Here's to another year.” You raise your own glass.

“Thank you for... commemorating it with me.” He spoke.

And that night, another special event was born. Every birthday of his, you'd have a glas of liquor first thing in the midnight or morning.

And knowing that he hated parties and such, you'd simply call it a toast.

Yes, tradition becomes our security, but, there are questionable times when we would ask, is it really a good time?

The scouts may have had the most devastating loss this year, grieving the honorable Erwin Smith.

It's been an impossible year, having little no no hope at all.

You don't talk about it, but his death was the hardest for Levi. After the incident, he's never been the same. Erwin was respected by everyone, but you were lucky to be considered close to him.

So his death took it's major toll on you as well. But you couldn't help but feel sorry for Levi. The two of them had a special bond above anyone else.

It's been days since you last had a conversation with him, and it happened to be his birthday. Is your annual toast coming to an end?

His door was shut close like it had been majority of the year. But the light peeking through the space below says so, he was definitely awake.

You carefully placed the shot glass a few inches from the door.

Levi definitely needed a person right now, but you chose to respect his privacy these challenging times.

“Cheers.” You inaudibly spoke, clinking your own shot glass with Levi's on the floor.

On the other side, he clearly saw your shadow movements. As much as he wanted to open the door and let you in, he couldn't bring himself to.

and he knows that you'd rather let him be anyways, respecting that decision.

Plus, the pile of papers filled with plans and project says otherwise. You are about to go at war now. and Levi can't waste any time taking his mind off of it. Failing to plan is like planning to fail.

But, he can't leave the drink you mad unattended either. Upon opening the door, there stood the shot glass, waiting to get it picked up.

and that's what he does, swiftly swirling the liquor in the glass before taking a whiff of the fine scent, downing it in one quick gulp.

“I look forward to returning this drink to you someday, [Name]...”

The war was a long, thorny battle in between men, monsters, and your own selves.

You've experienced losses you're never ready to endure, and made risks you never thought you'd make.

Titans were now long gone off of the face of the Earth, merely a folklore told to townsmen and children.

The 'brats' you once trained and looked after at all times lead the battle and now had lives of their own beyond the island.

as did Levi, whom now comfortingly took in the cool breeze on the countryside, watching the sun emerge from the horizons and take on a fiery orange and navy skies.

In the fields, there stood a strong tree, and underneath it's earthy toned leaves sat a figure.

Levi carefully strolled himself down the pathway, letting the air flow through his dark locks as he kept his eyes on your figure laid on the grass, chains of flowers in hands, attempting to craft a crown.

“You look stupid.” Was the first thing he spoke upon arriving at your spot, taking you off of concentration. “I look better than you.” You replied, urging him to roll his eyes to the back of his head.

“Are you coming or what—” He froze upon feeling the finished product of your creating come in contact with his head, the flowers beautifully circling over his head.

“You're so pretty.” You chuckled to yourself, leaving him confused on the spot before taking yourself behind, “Of course, I won't miss your big day.”

“Heh.” He chuckled, letting the flower crown stay on his head as you left the house and off to the place you'd just previously had done.

Ackerman's was neatly printed over the sign just above the doors.

The scent of new wood, and citrus greeted your nostrils upon entrance— taking in the view of the warm, tavern-ly ambience of the shop.

Levi insisted to get up and explore the place himself, but you immediately offered your aid as the doctor hasn't cleared him to walk alone just yet.

“Take it easy, your leg's still fucked.” You spoke, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “It's amazing.” He remarked, giving you a glimpse of glimmer in his eyes as he gazed around.

“You like it?” You ask, carefully taking yourselves to the back of the counter, just in front of the shelves of drink collections displayed.

“I do.” He replied, gently getting comfortable on the seat you've had ready.

Levi took a moment to take in everything— that the life long drram he'd been wishing for had finally come to life.

On the counter was a bottle of unopened whiskey, along wih two new and unused shiny shot glasses.

Levi let you tinker with the bottles on the shelf while he quietly poured both of you a drink, the glass sliding down the mahogany counter made a sound that took your attention.

“Care for a drink?” He offered, patting the vacant stool by his side.

“Thank you for... having this drink with me.” He spoke.

“You offered it—” His next move was something you wouldn't expect to happen in a million years.

His lips captured yours in a second, making it seem as if time stood still, but the fluttering feeling only grew stronger. As your knees got weaker, the hammering in your chest wildened.

Levi could only think about how soft your lips felt on his and how completely you engulfed all of his senses.

It still wasnt clear if you dreamt this moment to life, but there was raw emotion in the way your fingers curled around his.

However, the most beautiful moments always seem to speed up and slip away just as you wanted to hold onto them for as long as possible.

You pull away with a smile, lips immediately feeling cold without the other's.

“Happy birthday, Levi. and congrats on the new shop.” You were the first one to speak up. “Is that something people say after a kiss?” He remarked, earning a light smack from you.

“You're... perfect.” He uttered, eyes closing upon resting his forehead on yours.

“I am your person.” You answered. “You will always have me...” Your palms were warm against his cheeks, holding onto the moment you shared.

Maybe, a little loo long to even hear the bell trickling against the door upon the entrance of your first customer...

What's important is that we never stop believing we can have a new beginning. But it's also important to remember that amid all the crap are a few things really worth holding on to.

You are worth holding on to.

and that's what he did, cherishing you with all the remaining of hsi life with you, free from all the pain and hardships your previous life together had thrown.

[babesonly]

fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids​ purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS. 

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny. 

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

--

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean 

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease 

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

Or

An ethics lesson from Hell

Or

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good 

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

--

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

--

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want? 

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god. 

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

[softxsuki]

hiya! this is for the v-day letter thing and please may the reader be gender neutral? i would like my letter to be from kōshi sugawara with our relation being a well-established relationship (we've been living together a couple of years and are soon to be married) so it would be a fluffy love letter. we live in the same house and he often gives me pet names such as 'angel' and 'dear'. i'm an infj who's autism often affects the way that i interact with the world - i take great joy in acting (1/?)

Sugawara's Pre-Wedding Vows Letter To His Partner

Valentine's Day Letter Event Masterlist (CLOSED)

Pairing: Sugawara x Gn!Reader

Warnings: none

Genre: Fluff

Post-Type: Letter

Word Count: 340

Summary: In which Sugawara leaves you a letter in the bathroom talking about how excited he is to marry you in a week.

[A/N: Hellooooo, Happy (late) Valentine's Day! I'm sorry it took so long when I had promised everyone that these would all be posted on Valentine's Day for everyone, but with editing, formatting, and adding tags and all that jazz, it took WAY longer than I thought it would. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this letter from Sugawara <3.]

You were mildly surprised to see an envelope taped to your bathroom mirror that morning when you went in to freshen up. The white envelope had Sugawara, your fiancé’s, handwriting on it that read ‘open me,’ and you did;

To My Angel,

Good morning dear! I hope you slept well last night and woke up feeling refreshed. It’s Valentine’s Day and sadly I couldn’t wake up to greet you this morning :(. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you though, don’t worry. Can you believe that we’ll be married in a week?! Imagine if we decided to get married on Valentine’s Day…that would be kind of cliché, right?

I can’t wait to finally be able to call you mine for life. I can’t wait to start a new chapter in our lives and build our future together. It seems so surreal, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I still believe that you and I were made for each other; it’s the only explanation I have for this perfect bond we have. I love how easily excited you get over your interests–I find it very adorable; and I love how hard you worked to get to where you are in your career as a screenwriter and actor. You inspire me every day to be a better man and to work harder so that I can make you proud of me as well. I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you on our wedding day.

With Lots of Love,

Sugawara.

That was the best morning greeting you could have ever received. What could be better than receiving a love letter from the love of your life and reading it first thing in the morning on Valentine’s Day. You were also excited and nervous to get married to Sugawara next week. It was surreal, as he had stated in the letter, but you were more than ready to take this next big step together with him.

You couldn’t wait to finally be a married couple.

EVENT REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

REGULAR REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Posted: 2/14/2022

[sgwrscrsh]

rosemary thyme milk chocolate

♡a/n♡ remember when i said i tend to write too much when it comes to angst? a new record for this event. i really did so much research for the last few to grasp their characters better so hopefully that it paid off

♡fillings♡

post-timeskip!sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader + angst + a happy ending + "i dont want us to break up over this, i trust you but i cant believe you" + established relationship + 800 words

♡box of chocolates event♡

as soon as you get home from work, you shower and prepare for your boyfriend to come over, excited to spend the night together since your busy schedules didn’t let you have valentine’s day to yourselves. meanwhile, sakusa is busy at practice to perfect his cross-court shot after the last one he used in a game lost a tide-altering point.

when you’re done, you text him letting him know that you deep cleaned your little studio apartment. you smile remembering how funny he looked standing too tall in an arrangement that seemed too small for him the first time he came over. he waited for you to get all the giggles out of your system before giving you a rare smile.

“that just means there are fewer places for germs to hide and fester” was all he said, but he’s made space for his larger-than-life presence after all the visiting hours he’s logged since then.

you’re so caught up in the memories tucked in every nook and cranny of your home that you don’t notice how much time had passed without so much as a peep from your boyfriend, so you send a follow-up text, wording it carefully to avoid sound annoying only to get… no response.

so you clean up everything you set out for the two of you and cook a single serving of the meal you had planned to share with sakusa, furiously swiping at the fat tears rolling down your face in an attempt to keep them at bay.

meanwhile, sakusa finally realizes how fucking late he is. by the time he gets to your apartment, you’re curled up on the sofa in one of his hoodies and sweats watching “me before you” for the umpteenth time. you take your time getting the door, but his knocking grows too insistent for you to ignore anymore.

when your door cracks open, he takes in your red-rimmed puffy eyes and the silvery tracks on your cheeks glinting beneath the hallway light. his mouth opens to apologize, but you cut him off before he utters a sound.

“do i even matter to you, sakusa?” the fact that you have probable cause to ask and your use of his family name cuts deep enough for him to get an idea of how much he hurt you tonight.

“you do, of course you do. i would much rather lick the floor of a subway bathroom than lose you.” if you weren’t so heartbroken you would’ve laughed at his sad attempt at a joke.

“well it doesn’t fucking seem like it!” scoffing, you turn on your heel and head to your bedroom, leaving him to trail after you like a sad puppy.

“baby, baby, wait, please.”

“just tell me what took up all your time, the time we were supposed to spend together when you told me practice ended hours ago.”

“remember, in the last game against the adlers? my cut shot got stuffed and the point ended up costing us the match. i got so caught up in perfecting it i just messed up this night with you. i’m so so sorry, i’ll make sure it never happens again, just please don’t break up with me i need you.”

“i wish i could say this is the first time you flaked on plans because you stayed late for practice, but it’s not and we planned this night a month ago. a month ago! we promised that because we couldn’t spend the day together, you would come over after practice and we would cook dinner together and do face masks and watch cheesy romcoms and complain about how stupid all of it would sound if it happened in real life. i don’t want us to break up over this, kiyoomi. i love you and i trust you with my life, but i can’t believe you."

the fresh tears spilling from your eyes make sakusa’s eyes shine too. his cheeks grow ruddy as his body shakes with suppressed sobs.

“i, i swear i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, p-proving that i’ll put you before my stupidly selfish perfectionism if, if you’ll let m-me.”

you sigh shakily, hiccuping from crying so hard, before slowly opening your arms to him. sakusa doesn’t hesitate to engulf you in a much-needed hug, not a single thought about the bacteria you’re sharing in his mind when he’s so relieved that you’re giving him a second chance.

“let’s go to bed, omi. we’ll talk about this more in the morning after you bring me breakfast in bed.”

“yes, ma’am.” he carries you to bed bridal style, wrapping himself around you and reveling in how perfectly your bodies fit together and how close he was to losing the right to ever feel it again.

box of chocolates taglist @honey-makki @lets-go-datehoe @nachotrash @newfriendjen @sugarshoyo @kenmaki @tsukkisfatsimp @alia-chan @bigdickdaichi @hanji-lover

hq angst taglist: @callmekda @lets-go-datehoe​ @navymacaroons​ @its-the-aerieljeane​ @kenmaki​ @tsukkisfatsimp​ @newfriendjen​ @anejuuuuoy​ @bigdickdaichi​

fill out ♡this form♡ for the event taglist and ☁️this form☁️ for my general taglists

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Remember

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 3238

Content warnings - lots of angst, MAJOR SPOILER WARNING, post Lesson 16, platonic relationships

Prompt/Inspiration - none 

Summary - After the situation with Belphegor is resolved, you struggle to come to terms with your changing relationships with the brothers.

AO3

Things rarely turn out as you plan them.

And this time was no exception. As soon as Belphegor offered you that hug, you knew something was wrong. That smile just didn’t look...right. Perhaps you should have tried to run, but judging by what happened with your body in the alternate reality, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

When you had finally left the attic, after being revived by the last of Lilith’s power, the sight that greeted you was like something out of a horror movie. So much blood everywhere. And in the middle of it all sat Mammon, clutching your body to himself, begging you not to leave. Even though you knew Barbatos had told you that you must not interfere, you couldn’t just stand by and watch Mammon fall to pieces when you were right there, just a few yards away.

So you took a step forward.

Levi was the first to notice you, and everyone else turned to face you soon after. There was so much confusion in their eyes, but also hope. Hope that maybe you were in fact alive. Just as you were about to run to Mammon, Belphegor moved to attack you again. But after a few moments of panic, you were finally able to explain what happened to their sister and why there appeared to be two of you.

You were so happy to be reunited with everyone, to be alive, you didn’t think much of your new relationship to them at first. It hadn’t entered your mind that anything would actually change. As you talked with Belphegor, you relaxed even more, learning that he did in fact value your companionship and what you had done for him. Which is also, as he explained, part of why he reacted as he had - he knew just how enamored everyone was with you, and blamed you for leading them down the same path as Lilith. But once he had learned that Lilith was still able to live a happy life, he was able to begin to deal with his grief, and could finally fully appreciate you.

As the evening wore on however, you started to become uncomfortable. Not with Belphie though, his behavior you at least understood, in a sense. But with the attention and doting that everyone else was lavishing on you. Everyone had always been nice to you before, but this was beyond that. And when Lord Diavolo made some comment in passing about how everyone must be happy about getting to do all the things with you that they had wanted to do with Lilith, a sick feeling crept into your stomach, making it churn. You tried to convince yourself you were overreacting. They loved you. You loved them. They were just glad you weren’t dead. But the feeling of unease wouldn’t go away.

————

The following morning, you woke up drenched in sweat. You had a nightmare. And not just any nightmare. A very vivid nightmare about how Belphegor had killed you. And not only did you remember the first time in the attic, but for reasons you did not understand, you also remembered the death you had suffered in the alternate reality. You could feel his claws around your throat. How your ribs stabbed further into your lungs every time you tried to take a breath. The blood pouring from the wound in your abdomen. Everything. Every little thing, in excruciating detail.

Your first thought was to run right to Mammon. He was your closest friend, after all. And you frequently helped him out when he had nightmares of his own. But something made you hesitate and you decided instead to just take a quick bath, and head down to breakfast. Maybe you could talk to him after school, you thought. That would also give you an opportunity to check on him too, since you hadn’t had a chance yet to speak to him about the events of the previous evening.

After classes ended, you quickly headed to your meeting spot to wait for Mammon. He was all smiles when he saw you, and you beamed at him in return. The walk back to the House of Lamentation was a peaceful one, as the two of you chatted about your day. You were surprised at just how normal it all felt. Like yesterday had never happened. But it did happen, and every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the blood coated hall, and you knew you needed to talk about it.

“So Mammon...how are you doing?”

“Good, why?”

“Oh, I was just...well...I was worried about you. After yesterday, I mean…”

“Oh. Well, I’m good. You’re here, so it doesn’t matter ya know? Everything worked out,” he answered, flashing you a brilliant smile.

“Umm, yeah, right. That makes sense.”

It didn’t really make sense to you though. Not after that nightmare you had. But it seemed Mammon wasn’t having any nightmares at least, so that was good wasn’t it?

However, you couldn’t help but feel a little...rejected? One of the reasons you had wanted to talk to him about how you were feeling, was because you had assumed he would be struggling in a similar way. He was the one you were closest with, and he was the one you had seen holding your body, after all. Was what happened just not that big of a deal to him? Or maybe things like this just weren’t something demons got upset over?

“Whattabout you?”

“Hmm? Oh. Good, no problems here,” you smiled back at him. It was all you could do really. It just didn’t feel right bringing up those things when he was doing well. Especially since you knew how happy he was to find out the truth about Lilith and your bloodline. You couldn’t bring yourself to taint that happiness. He had suffered for long enough already, he deserved a little peace.

————

And so your days continued to pass in a similar way - go to school, walk home, go to bed, have a nightmare - until it had been a week already.

And by the end of the week, you were exhausted.

As you had spent time with each of the brothers, helping them get over their awkwardness with Belphegor, one thing had become abundantly clear to you: none of them seemed at all upset by what he had done to you.

You couldn’t really say why that bothered you so much. You had already forgiven Belphie, and had spent most of the week in his company. So it shouldn’t be a big deal if his brothers also forgave him, right?

Still, you found yourself flinching every time someone hugged you, or tried to hold your hand. When they’d offer you a snack or invite you somewhere, you just instinctually wanted to run away. To yell at them for ever thinking that you would be interested. And every time you had to fight back those urges you felt more and more guilty. They just wanted to show you they cared, didn’t they? Why couldn’t you just be happy?

When you got home from school that day, you immediately collapsed on your bed. Ever since the first nightmare, you had been having trouble falling asleep. And even after you managed to go to sleep, once you woke up from your nightmares, regardless of the time it was, you couldn’t go back to sleep. Sometimes you would think of going to climb into Mammon’s bed or see what Levi was up to, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You didn’t want to have to explain why you were up at weird hours of the night.

But now that you were laying in bed once again, it didn’t take long before exhaustion claimed you and pulled you into a deep sleep.

————

You were at the dining room table, eating breakfast when Beel entered.

“Good morning, Lilith.”

“It’s me Beel. I’m not Lilith.”

He looked at you, slightly puzzled.

“Um, ok? If you say so.”

And then he continued to his seat, and began eating his breakfast.

Lucifer entered next. He walked right over to you, and kissed you on the top of your head.

“Good morning, Lilith.”

“I’m not Lilith.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Lucifer smirked at you. It was like he thought you were playing a game.

Mammon was the next to join you.

“‘Morning Lilith!”

He walked right up to you and hugged you in your seat.

“I’m not Lilith!”

“Of course ya are. I know my sister.”

He then ruffled your hair and took a seat next to you.

“But I’m not Lilith. I’m MC.”

“Huh?”

“MC! Your best friend!”

“Oh is this a new game you and Belphie are playin’?”

“No!!”

Mammon laughed at your reaction.

No, not your reaction. The reaction of his cute little sister.

‘You’ weren’t there. ‘You’ didn’t exist. It was just Lilith. And no one missed you. No one remembered you. Only Lilith.

————

“AHHHHHH!”

You woke up in a cold sweat, screaming, though you couldn’t remember why. You had been having breakfast. And then…

And then…

Lilith.

Suddenly everything made sense to you. Why you flinched when someone touched you. Why you wanted to slap their hands away when they offered you food. Why you wanted to scream at them when they invited you somewhere.

They weren’t inviting you, they were inviting Lilith.  

Or Lilith’s descendant. Though you supposed it didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that you were not part of the equation. You had died, and no one mourned your death. As soon as your identity had been revealed, it was like nothing else had ever happened. No one cared that Belphegor killed you. It was all okay...because they got Lilith back.

As the realization hit you, so did the flood of tears, and the uncontrollable sobs. Or maybe calling it wailing would be more accurate? Whatever it was, it brought Mammon to your room, in a panic.

“What the hell?! Are you okay?!”

Mammon was at your side in an instant, but seeing him there only made you cry harder. A reminder that you were gone. That he didn’t miss you. That your death was an acceptable thing, because he got Lilith back.

Not knowing what else to do, Mammon sat beside you in your bed, wrapping his arms around you as he cradled you to his chest. You wanted to resist. You wanted to push him away. But you were just too weak. Too exhausted to fight back. So you let him hold you, and comb his fingers through your hair, as he rocked you gently and tried to comfort you.

Eventually you were able to sit up on your own, even though your tears were still streaming down your face. Your chest was still unbearably tight, but at least you could breathe now. And even though your throat still ached, you could once again talk.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, wiping at your eyes, trying to clean off whatever tears you could.

“It’s nothin’...but what happened?” Mammon loosened his grip on you a little, allowing you to sit up some more and put some space between you.

“Just a nightmare. No big deal,” you tried to laugh it off. But he wasn’t buying it.

“Ya know, you’ve been actin’ kinda weird all week. Are ya sure you’re ok?”

“Yep. Just fine. Probably could use some sleep, but that’s it,” you smiled at him.

“C’mon you can’t expect me to believe that. You can’t even get ya-self to stop cryin’!”

“Oh…”

He was right. The fact that even now your tears wouldn’t stop was a pretty clear indicator that something was wrong. But you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t tell anyone.

“It’s fine. I’ll be ok. Just need a minute,” you said, trying to deflect.

“It ain’t fine. C’mon, talk to me, please. You’re…”

“...I’m not Lilith…”

“Huh?” Mammon looked at you, as you sat next to him, keeping your head down. His arm was still wrapped around you, so he squeezed your shoulder in what he hoped would be a gesture of reassurance.

“...I’m not...not her...I’m not Lilith…”

“Well yeah, I know that.”

“...but do you? Really?”

“Look you really ain’t makin’ a lot of sense right now. I want to help...but I don’t know what ya want me to do,” Mammon was grasping at straws here, desperate to figure out what had you so upset, and why you were saying these things.

“I remember….”

“Remember?”

“When I died. I remembered. Not just in the attic. But…”

“Wh…? How?”

“I dunno...I just do. I see it in my dreams. I can’t sleep.”

Mammon had started rubbing your arm now, gently, encouraging you to keep going.

“I remember. But no one else does. I died. But no one cared. They got Lilith back. And what about me? What about where I belong? It’s all gone. I’m still dead. And you have Lilith. And no one...no one cares…”

Your tears had started to fall heavily again, the pain in your chest worsening. You tried to rub it away with your hand, but it didn’t bring you any relief. Why couldn’t the pain just stop? It seemed like you had been in pain from the moment you finally opened the attic door. And it felt like nothing would ever make it end.

Suddenly you felt Mammon’s arms around you, and you were wrapped in a near bone crushing hug. You gasped in surprise, but he didn’t let go. He just buried his face further into the crook of your neck. As you sat there, stunned, you started to feel dampness on your shirt and skin.

Was he...crying? Why would he be crying? Did you do this? You had been so careful not to mention any of this, and then suddenly it had just come rushing out all at once and you couldn’t stop it. And now Mammon was hurt.

“... I remember...I remember…” he choked out in between sobs. He was trying hard to keep himself together, but it was a losing battle. Every time he tried to speak, another memory would replay in his mind. And every time he closed his eyes, he could see your lifeless body. All he could do now to stop from coming undone completely was to hold you close and feel your warmth against him.

“You...remember? But...I...you said…”

“No. Listen. Listen to me,” Mammon said, letting you go and sitting up, taking your face gently in his hands, “I remember. I could never forget. I didn’t want ya to worry. So I didn’t say. But I...I remember.”

“You..remember?”

“I remember.”

Without any further hesitation, you wrapped your arms around Mammon’s neck as he pulled you into his lap and hugged you tightly to himself. It was impossible to tell who was crying more at this point. In between sobs, the only other sound that could be heard was Mammon repeating “I remember” over and over again.

You had been feeling so incredibly lonely. And in one single moment, Mammon had managed to change all that. Even if no one else grieved for you. Even if no one else missed you. He did. You couldn’t put into words how much that meant to you, all you could do was hold him tighter and tighter. Trying with all your might to make sure he would never leave you again.

And Mammon? He had been feeling much the same as you. When he saw you trying so hard to act normal, he didn’t have the heart to burden you with his troubles. Why should he be the one to stir up bad memories for you? It was bad enough he had to deal with these things, that his sleep was a restless one, plagued with nightmares, you didn’t need to suffer too. If you were strong enough to get through this, then he should be able to manage it easily.

But now, he could see just how foolish that was. You hadn’t been alright at all. In fact, you were the furthest thing from alright. As far as you knew, no one missed you and only saw you as some sort of sister replacement. And if he had just told you, even a little, just said “I’m glad you’re ok,” all of this could have been avoided. You wouldn’t be crying so hard in his arms. You wouldn’t be struggling to breathe. No, you would be happy. You would be smiling. But because he didn’t want to appear weak , he had brought you so much unnecessary suffering.

————

Neither of you knew when you had fallen asleep exactly, but by the time you had woken up, it was late into the night. Not wanting to disturb Mammon, you opted to continue laying curled up next to his side, with your head resting on his chest. The sound of his breathing was so soothing to you. You had missed this.

It occurred to you as you snuggled closer to him, that you had woken up naturally. For the first time in a week, your dreams had been peaceful ones. And you attributed this change to the fact that Mammon was now by your side and you no longer felt alone and forgotten. You were safe here, with him.

“You ok?” he asked.

“Oh sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Nah, just checkin’ on ya.”

“I’m good actually. No nightmares,” you replied, looking up, smiling at him the first genuine smile you had had in days.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer with the arm that was around your shoulders so that he could kiss your forehead, making you smile even more.

“Guess we just aren’t any good on our own, huh?”

“Yeah, maybe,” he laughed.

After a moment of silence, he continued, “Umm. There’s somethin’ I feel like I gotta say,” you tried to sit up so you could look at him, but he held you in place and pulled you closer instead, “Nah, just stay like that. I don’t wantcha lookin’ at me.

So...umm...I feel like you should know that you aren’t a replacement ta me. I mean, I loved my sister. And losin’ her was hard. But...when I thought I lost you? That was...that was the most painful experience of my life. Worse than the Fall. Worse than all of it,” Mammon’s grip tightened around you, pulling you even closer than before, “I can’t lose ya again.”

You listened carefully as Mammon opened up to you. With each word he whispered to you, another knot of anxiety untangled itself from within your chest. The two of you had misunderstood each other so badly. And in trying to protect the other, had only caused one another more pain.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you said, giving him a squeeze with the arm around his chest. Just spending a week without him was bad enough, you didn’t want to think about what things would be like if he was ever truly gone .

Mammon smiled as he felt you cling to him. He loved that feeling. Of being wanted, needed . He always felt that way around you, you made sure of it. And he didn’t think he could live without it at this point.

“Don’t worry. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Respect

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings:  Mentions and depictions of smoking/tobacco usage

Next chapter | AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

The alarm clock on your phone is loud and annoying, but it’s the only sound that will wake you up without fail so you can get a head start on your more demanding days, like today.

Groggy and neck a bit strained, a sign that you’ve slept on it wrong, you carefully push yourself up and off your bed. You come across your first hurdle of the day. A few wolf cubs had settled on your chest and your sides during the night. You try carefully to move them off of you and to the side of their mother, who has settled near your feet and isn’t afraid to growl or snap her jaw should you even think of shifting or moving away from her. Unfortunately, the pups seem determined to stick by your side despite your efforts. Luckily the pack’s alpha, Gunter, is settled right behind your head and acted as your pillow for the night. He must be why your neck feels stiff as hell.

You reach back and start petting behind his ear, rubbing into the bunch of dotted scars beneath his coarse hair. You feel his body stretch and shake as he wakes up as well. A small whine comes out of him as he gives out an enormous yawn. It makes you yawn as well.

“Ready to start the day?” you whisper to him.

He huffs with a bit of attitude as if to say, “Not really, but what choice do I have?”

You redirect his attention to his pups, preventing you from sitting up without disturbing everyone else. With silent understanding, he removes himself from underneath your head and carefully steps over one of his brothers, who has graciously allowed you to use him as an armrest somewhere during the night. After another good morning stretch, Gunter begins the slow and steady process of picking the pups up from the scruffs off their necks and setting them elsewhere on your bed.

While he does this, you grab your phone and do a quick sweep of all your notifications. You have a few emails, one a weekly newsletter about current and future school events, most of it spam. You have a couple of dozen messages from Ace and Deuce detailing an argument over whether the former ate the latter’s piece of strawberry shortcake they were saving for after dinner. Apparently, they thought to ask you to be their mediator since it was clear they weren’t going anywhere arguing and pointing fingers back and forth at each other.

Unfortunately for them, they messaged you right after you conked out. You were exhausted yesterday, having to deal with an especially rambunctious and mischievous Grim. You were also scrambling to gather the reading materials needed for one of your classes before the other students can snag them. The most recent and urgent incident is figuring out what to do now that the only generator that powers up all of Ramshackle is going out or outright failing to even start up at all. You also have a decently sized garden to tend to, and the next large harvest is today. Once everything has been properly collected, washed, and either stored away in your pantry or given to Sam so he can sell and make a profit on your behalf and his own (it’s a 60/40 split and you had to fight tooth and nail for that 60), you have to replant everything once again after you’ve tilled the soil…

To say that there’s a lot on your plate is an understatement.

Free from your furry prison, you’re finally able to sit up and move your limbs freely. Something slightly damp presses against your bare shoulder, calling for your attention. Gunter, still clearly tired (expected of anyone, human or wolf, having to wake up at six o’clock in the morning), is now awaiting proper payment for his services.

“I got some dried venison in the kitchen,” you offer. The way his one good eye pops wide open and his tail begins to rapidly wag, the deer jerky will suffice.

You give the top of his head one last rub before standing up and heading straight for your bathroom to take a quick shower. Since the availability of electricity has been scarce lately, so is the availability of heating throughout the dorm. Unlike the ghosts, who can’t differentiate between hot and cold (unless it’s magically sourced), you can. Unlike the ghosts who are already dead, you will die in this late winter cold. Grim has better control of his blue flames compared to when you first met him, so he can now essentially be his own heater. He seemed a bit too comfortable keeping himself warm and letting you freeze to death, considering you’re the only reason he’s enrolled in this school.

You make do with what you have and your situation. Even when you gathered all the untorn and clean blankets and piled them on top of you last night, the cold still found its way underneath your cocoon. Gunter, the leader of a small bunch of wolves you had been taking care of during your first few weeks in Twisted Wonderland, must have seen you struggling to stave off the cold and settled himself next to you during the night followed by his brother, his sister, and finally Gunter’s mate and their pups.

Of course, with three full-grown wolves and four chubby wolf babies as your immediate heat sources, you overheated in no time and had to throw off all your covers and strip down to your underclothes in the middle of the night since your pajamas had quickly gotten soaked in sweat (and most definitely covered in their thick fur). A cold shower is just what you need to clean up after a long night drenched in sweat.

You also need to clean your sheets, but without electricity, your washer and dryer are out of order for the time being…

Dammit.

Cold showers suck, but once the ice-cold water hits your back, it woke you the hell up. You probably spent only five minutes in there before you quickly rinsed off and got out because of how unbearable the ice water was.

Once you’re properly toweled dried, you head to your closet and change. You put on clothes you don’t mind getting covered in dirt and sweat; a simple wool sweatshirt and some overalls lined with thick fleece. You also put on a pair of knitted crew socks and secure them to your leg with a pair of garters.

Right as you snap the final metal clasp on the knotted fabric, you feel a familiar bump on your shoulder. Gunter is giving you his best pleading face he can manage. Most people likely wouldn’t fall for it, what with the many scars littering across his body and face, making him look scary rather than cute. You feel a little tug in your heart. Luckily, you’re all dressed up and ready to start your day, so you quickly straighten up and usher him downstairs to give him his well-deserved treat. You grab your phone before you exit your room so you can peruse it on your way.

As you read over old texts and useless emails, a new notification comes in. It’s another message. As surprised as you are to receive a message so early in the morning (Ace and Deuce are likely still snoring and drooling into their pillows at this hour), it is the sender of the text that makes your slowed strides halt completely.

Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant and well-deserved night of rest. I’m currently getting ready to head over to the Ramshackle dorm to help you with your harvesting, as I promised. The coat you’ve made and gifted me during the holidays also fits perfectly and is by far the most comfortable piece of clothing I now own.

Thank you again for your most generous gift. I will inform you when I have arrived.

Yours truly,

Malleus Draconia

You can’t help but smack your palm on your forehead. You’re not annoyed or exasperated, it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re happy that Malleus’s charm can somehow manifest even within a text message. In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s sent you a message formatted and written like a formal letter. If someone were to look at the small messaging history between you two, they’d see that a great majority of it is just Malleus sending you these long strings of text. They would also find your messages, or rather, your poor and embarrassing attempts at mimicking his language and style (he says he gets a laugh out of them, so maybe they’re as bad as you think). There’s also always a follow-up message, gently reminding and encouraging him to relax and not worry about offending you for speaking casually for you.

His response is always the same, and it makes your stomach feel strangely fuzzy.

You have earned my respect, now I must strive to earn yours.

It’s only been a little over a month since he dropped the bombshell that was his desire for your friendship to evolve into a proper, romantic relationship. To say it surprised you is another understatement. You were thoroughly flabbergasted once your mind finally registered his words as genuine. To hear him say “I love you” and direct such a powerful statement towards you was truly the last thing you expected since arriving in this strange world.

But through all the outer uncertainties there was one thing you were certain of, your inner uncertainties. Malleus is a dear friend of yours. Even amongst Ace or Deuce, two individuals who have been with you since the beginning and nearly every overblot incident that has come your way, Malleus holds a special place in your heart as your dearest friend.

But a friend is all he’s ever been in your mind. There was truly never an instance where you pondered or even held some amount of desire or expectation that your friendship could evolve into something more. You felt like a total prick during the end of his confession, asking him if you could sit on his words for a while and come back to him when you have a more certain and final answer to give. Watching the hope and nervousness in his eyes turn into one of pure and utter sadness and even embarrassment, yet he willed himself to conceal his heartbroken emotions back for your sake. It hurt like hell. What was supposed to be an exciting and relaxing end-of-winter-break party in Scarabia’s dorm (and an apology party for Jamil’s actions against you), turned awkward. Neither of you stayed any longer once you went your separate ways.

Despite what had happened, when you received a proper smartphone (and a proper phone plan to boot) as a gift for Christmas, one of the first things you did was transfer all your old contacts into the new device. The first person you messaged was Malleus, wanting to check in on him after your last encounter and to wish him a happy holiday. He answered back in a matter of minutes, much to your surprise. While he’s not the most tech-savvy, your major concern was whether he was holding up well after what happened and if you guys were going to remain as friends. You went on a whole tangent, trying your best to not sound so desperate and ensure that your response is in no way his fault because it most certainly is not. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s you.

Gunter suddenly tenses up. His fur instinctually puffs out, trying to appear bigger in anticipation of whatever threat he’s detected in the kitchen. Metallic clanking and clashing come from underneath the kitchen island where you store all the pots, pans, and heavy-duty appliances. A loud and harsh crash riles up Gunter enough that he feels the need to growl at whatever is underneath the cupboard.

You quietly move past him and wave your arm, signaling him to move back a bit. He listens to your orders and takes a few slow steps back. You position yourself on the side of the cabinet, fingertips pressing onto the top of the door to prepare to open.

“On my mark,” you whisper to Gunter. “One... Two…Three!”

You yank the door open, and Gunter quickly launches himself towards the potential threat. Though, not a second passes before he’s suddenly skidding across the floor, trying to immediately halt himself. He barely avoids hitting his head against the wood and giving himself a nasty bruise. When you ask him what’s wrong, he sticks his head into the cabinet and pulls out the apparent intruder.

It’s Blossom, a young fawn you rescued from the rose gardens of the Heartslaybul dorm. It was during the preparation of the unbirthday party near the start of the school year that subsequently led to dorm leader Riddle’s overblot. Cater assigned Grimm, Ace, Deuce, and yourself to paint the roses red with him. On top of rose painting duty, Cater was also on the lookout for a supposed ‘rose thief’ who had been snagging some roses from their garden right from under their noses. The scoundrel they were looking for was the fawn before you. From the way he still wobbled on his feet, he wasn’t even a month old when you initially rescued him. He’s lucky you found him when you did. His front leg was caught in a rusted and dull, but full-sized bear trap they set up in case the thief was a wild animal.

“What are you doing in there?” you ask the little troublemaker. “Probably trying to find a snack to chew on, huh?”

Blossom thrashes, trying to break free from Gunter’s hold on his scruff. He of course fails, but not without giving out a distressed scream and trying to plead for forgiveness by giving you his best innocent look. You shake your head before looking up at the small clock hung up on the wall above the refrigerator. It runs on battery so you have to worry about the time no longer being correct when the house lacks power.

It’s 6:15, still way too early. You tell Gunter to let go of Blossom and he does it without argument. Blossom quickly runs up to you, using your own body as a foothold to jump up into your arms. Once you have a hold of him, he bombards your face with little licks and nuzzles of his snout. While this action is normal and you would gladly accept it, you know better than to think it’s not the fawn’s attempts at trying to distract you from his misdeed.

“If you’re looking for the sugared flower petals, you won’t have any luck down there,” you tell him. He immediately stops his loving ministrations and gives out a disappointingly snort before relaxing in your arms.

You chuckle and give him a few apologetic pets on the head as you walk over to one of the upper cupboards and rummage around the various jars, trying to locate the dried venison for Gunter. You also grab a jar placed far in the back with the aforementioned candied rose petals Blossom was most definitely looking for. The moment you open the jar and the heavy scent of sweetness and floral whiffs in the air, Blossom begins to excitedly thrash about in your arms and tries to stick his head into the container. Luckily, the small nubs on his head, his newly budding antlers, stop him from reaching too deep.

You spend the next few minutes feeding your companions their early morning treat. The doorbell rings as you let Blossom lick the last specks of sugar off of your now damp palm. After rinsing your hands off and drying them, you head to the door. You open it and take in the sight of a newly arrived Malleus, dressed in a simple black dress shirt and a pair of loose-fitting linen pants you made for him when he expressed discomfort over his PE uniform the last time he helped you in your garden.

“Good morning!” you greet him as brightly as you can without being too loud.

“A good morning to you as well,” he greets back. Unlike you, who is still groggy and slow, he seems properly energized despite the time. You’re jealous. You’ve been waking up at the crack of dawn for years, at least a decade now, yet your body isn’t used to the early routine. Though compared to the hundreds of years Malleus has on you, you probably won’t show any sign of improvement until your hairs are gray.

“Have you eaten yet?” Malleus asks.

You shake your head. “The electricity is out, so I can’t use the stove or open the fridge too often.”

“Crowley still hasn’t replaced your generator?”

“No,” you frown. “Every time I try to bring it up he either gives an outlandish excuse or just flat out tells me I don’t need a new one.”

His eyebrows pressed together, clearly upset as you are at the headmaster’s failure as your caretaker. You reassure him it’s fine. Everyone in the dorm has been saving money for emergencies like this, and it just so happens that the money you’ll make for selling the produce you collect today will bring in just enough to buy a brand new generator. You’ll be out of electricity for another week, two at most, but have enough firewood and nonperishable foods to last until then.

“You should at least make yourself some coffee,” Malleus urges. “It’s bad to work on an empty stomach. You've said so yourself.”

“I will once Grim and the ghosts wake up,” you reassure. “For now, let’s head to the back and get started. There’s a lot to harvest, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish up.”

He’s clearly unhappy at your dismal of his concerns. You know that being so nonchalant towards a fae is rude, but you don’t want to worry him with your own issues. You also have no desire to eat or drink, not this early in the morning at least. If you tell him as much, he’ll probably freak out like he did last time, thinking you were unwell and forcing you to lie in bed for the rest of the day.

Yes, you could have pushed back and argued that you were fine, but it’s very hard to tell him “no” when his intentions are purely out of concern for your well-being. Better to let him hover over you and see that you’re fine than to leave him stewing in his anxieties in silence.

“What have you been growing this season?” Malleus asks as he tugs on the loaned gardening gloves you handed him.

“The usual spread. Some potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. The only fresh additions I planted are some peas and kale. Oh, and broccoli!”

“Did the crops hold well when you were gone?”

“They did thanks to the ghosts. The heat from the fire faeries around the campus also made them easier to protect from the cold,” you explain. “I should probably give them some type of exotic wood as a little thank you gift.”

“You can never go wrong with a bit of mahogany,” Malleus says as he ties back his hair.

You hand him a straw hat, one that you weaved to accommodate for his black horns. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” he smiles at you before turning back to your garden. “So where shall we start first?”

“I’ll work on picking the cabbage heads. You can cut off the pea pods and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well. I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s 8 a.m. You know this because Ace and Deuce are woken up at this hour by Riddle and one of the first things they do is bombard you with text messages which usually forces you to turn your phone on silent mode. Despite it being late winter, you’re already working up a sweat from the repetitive and demanding motions of picking and carrying around baskets full of vegetables and cleaning them. Malleus is no better, hand continuously raising to his face to wipe away the constant wetness clinging to his forehead. You know he’s not used to manual labor like you are, so you try to bring him a pail of water every so often so he can stay properly hydrated.

“Oh my, you’re already up?”

You turn around to see who’s speaking to you and see one of the ghosts that live with you and Grim in Ramshackle floating towards you.

“Good morning!” you greet him. “Did you need something?”

“No no,” he shakes his head. “I just came to check up on my bees and saw you already hard at work.”

The ghost (Franklin is his name, but you all call him Frankie for short by his insistence), affectionately ruffles your hair with his large white palm. He’s one of the tamer ghosts, but he’s still capable of pulling a prank on you or his fellow housemates now and then. You and he have been cultivating and maintaining a small beehive since October, but he does most of the work and maintenance since he has more experience in the ways of beekeeping than you from when he was alive.

Frankie does a quick once over of the garden, his scanning gaze doubling back at seeing Malleus carefully rinse a couple of heads of broccoli.

“How long has he been here?”

“Since 6:30,” you answer back. “Why?”

“No one gets up that early unless it’s for someone they fancy,” he says rather nonchalantly, but the way he quickly side-eyes you show that he’s clearly talking about you. You try your best to appear unaffected and give a “Is that right?” type of hum, but your efforts are in vain since he just laughs at you.

“If even you know, that means he’s got it bad.”

You say nothing back because you honestly don’t know what to say, or if you should. You’re content to just go back to plucking potatoes out from the ground, but Frankie doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone just yet. He asks you to come with him to the greenhouse where the hive is being kept. The small glass enclosure also houses some flowers and herbs you use for cooking or medicine.

You quickly close the door behind you once you enter, reveling in the warmer air that hits your face. While Frankie lights his cigar and gets a heavy cloud of smoke going (his personal method of keeping the bees calm), he has you open the top and carefully pull out the panels one by one while he checks for any signs of a decaying hive and ensures the queen is alive and healthy. One of your initial worries about beekeeping was getting stung, but Frankie reassured you it’ll only happen if you purposely upset the bees or fail to care for the hives consistently. Now, you gladly let the buzzing honeybees wander around your bare skin.

As Frankie pulls out his cigar from between his lips and taps off the ashes into the respective ashtray, he looks over at you and asks, “Is everything ok?”

You give him a confused expression as you snap the cover for the hive back into place. “I’m fine?”

“You sure? Because if you ask me, you don’t seem like it.”

“I mean, I already have a pile of schoolwork I need to finish and a rundown dorm to take care of. I’m as ok as anyone in my position can be-“

“I’m not talking about any of that,” he interrupts. “I’m talking about you. Forget about Grim and your studies. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you answer again.

“Are you sure?”

Well, when he puts it that way, even he must be able to see that you’re clearly not doing alright. In fact, you haven’t been alright since you were literally kidnapped and held against your will in the Scarabia dorm. Luckily everything worked out fine for everyone else, but not so much for you. You’ve noticed that your appetite is waning and you wake up multiple times during the night because you don’t feel safe, even in your own room.

Malleus’s confession unfortunately was another wrench being thrown at you. With your hands already so full of this and that, you’re struggling to figure out what needs a priority and which issues you need to either drop entirely or find someone trustworthy to take care of it in your stead. It’s hard to ask people for help when they either find a convenient reason to say no or you feel as if you can’t trust them to do something as simple as watering your plants. The only person you feel you can trust and ask for help is Malleus, and things aren’t exactly as they were between the two of you.

“Talk to me kiddo,” Frankie prods. “What’s been eating at you?”

He lifts his ashtray and makes to snuff out his cigar so he can focus on speaking to you, but you hastily reach over and stop him. You take the smoke from him and bring it up to your lips and puff a few grey clouds. Strangely enough, it tastes rather pleasant, floral, and creamy. You didn’t expect to taste like this because of the way it smells, like soil that was just freshly rained on.

“Sorry,” you hand it back to him. “I haven’t eaten and I’m practically running on fumes.”

“That’s alright,” he says, handing it back to you. “You look like you need it more than me.”

Malleus carefully blows small bits of green fire onto his freezing fingertips, trying to warm them up after being drenched in the icy water from the water pump. He looks over his shoulder, over the stalks of peas, towards you. You’re still in the greenhouse and frantically moving your lips. He can see your eyes are glistening with a fresh layer of… tears? You don’t allow a single drop to get past your lids, wiping them just at the last second before they can pass over the threshold.

He’s only ever seen you cry one other time, when he came to your rescue in Scarabia over the break. He initially thought he frightened you with his aggressive display of magic. Once the dust settled and the blot on Jamil was expunged, no one was more shocked than he was when you boldly ran straight towards him and jumped into his arms. It was all he ever wanted, what his mind dreamed of every single time he closed his eyes. He could no longer brush off the fluttering in his stomach as the mere excitement of making and spending time with his first genuine friend. He was determined to keep his newfound affections for you with him under lock and key, not willing to risk ruining your close-knit friendship with his selfish and potentially one-sided desires.

Your desperate embrace, your toughie exterior lowering to that of a sniveling and shaking human, gave Malleus the impression that the only reason you would display such vulnerability before him was that you reciprocated his sentiments. It gave him a sense of confidence he never knew he was lacking, usually so sure of himself most other times. It made his chest burn with an aching desire to say “to hell with it all” and spill his heart right then and there.

When you extended the invitation you received from Kalim to him, he saw it as his proper opportunity to let his affections be known. He was upset (according to Lilia, more than usual) that he had to take Sebek and Silver along with him for the usual security, but he was determined to get them distracted long enough so he can pull you aside and confess to you without fear of interruption or letting his personal affairs be known to anyone else, at least, for as long as he can keep something so monumental under wraps.

As a prince, he has been taught to look at the long term for each of his decisions, as they carry substantial weight. The long term of pursuing a relationship with you meant having to deal with the prejudices and stigma against humans that still live within the hearts of his people. For once in his life, he didn’t want to think like an heir. As he watches you continue to talk to one of Ramshackle’s ghosts with increasing frustration, he realizes his love utterly blinded him back then. The only long-term his rose-tinted mind could comprehend was of the happy moments he had long conjured in his head becoming a reality.

You didn’t explicitly reject him, however; he knows your behavior well enough to know that once his feelings were laid bare before you, you would not take them into your arms and hand yours over in return. Arms crossed and avoidance of eye contact, you do this when you’re nervous or unsure, sometimes both. He held onto the self-indulgent hope that you’d show him what you look like when flustered. Perhaps you’d stutter?

You did stutter when you spoke up, but they were not the words that he wanted, that he thought he was, going to hear.

“Malleus...I’m so sorry…”

“Ah, you’re here early!”

“It’s just that…I don’t think I can…”

“Hey! Are you listening to me? You better not be ignoring me on purpose!”

“It’s not that I’m telling you I don’t feel the same way, but I can’t exactly say that I do. It’s just... I’ve never- “

“Tsu-no-ta-rou!” Grim’s shrill voice, still a bit riddled with drowsiness, still pierce Malleus’s eardrums and nearly causes him to drop the vegetable in his hand. “Pay attention to me when I’m speaking!”

“Quiet,” he growls at the monster. “If you need your master, they’re in the greenhouse. Though, you might want to come back another time.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Malleus lifts Grim from the back of his fuzzy robe (you must have made it and gifted it to him during the holidays) and points to you. Frankie has one of his translucent hands on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly now and then while he speaks. You were no longer wiping your face so furiously, allowing your tears to fall and drip off of your jaw and wet your shirt as you listened to your fellow dorm resident.

“What happened? Did you smash all the tomatoes again?” Grim cranes his neck to look at Malleus accusingly.

“No, I didn’t. Those are out of season.”

“Maybe it’s about what happened at Scarabia,” Grim muses. “They haven’t been sleepin’ too good since we came back, y’know?”

Malleus nearly drops the cat. “They haven’t?”

“Nah,” the cat answers, far too casually and dismissively for the fae’s liking.

“This is news to me,” Malleus says, almost whispering to himself. He’s sad, almost offended, at the fact that you haven’t told him you’ve been having some difficulties this whole time. You normally keep him up to date with your personal life. He’s even more offended once he realizes that you’ve been worrying and reassuring him that your friendship with him isn’t ruined after what’s happened.

There’s a small voice in the back of his mind, conniving and twisted, that feeds into his already prevalent belief that your unwillingness to share with him your personal problems anymore is a sign that he hasn’t earned your respect. It’s a ridiculous explanation, but no amount of reassuring from either you or himself is going to stop his Mind from asking such a multi-sided question. Surely, if you thought admirably of him, you’d continue to allow him to bear witness to your moments of weakness and vulnerability. He feels close to you, connected to you in a way he’s never felt. He can be slow and downright miss some references to your jokes and behavior. You always put on a face of understanding, but is he so lost that your patience has worn paper-thin?

Are his feelings for you truly one-sided? Is he still jumping to conclusions too soon and just needs to give you more time and space? Did he just set a course for a ruined friendship or could his hastiness have been a fruitful gamble?

If it’s not iron that kills him, it’s the uncertainty within his heart and mind.

A shrill whistle pierces through the air and Malleus’s eardrums. Grim hisses at the sudden noise and the hairs on his neck stand up. Even Frankie and you can hear and turn your heads towards the source despite still being in the middle of a conversation. The one who whistled was another one of the ghosts who live in Ramshackle. Johnathan is his name, usually shortened to Johnny. His sunken cheekbones make him look unassuming, but you’ve rightly warned Malleus never to turn your back on that one for too long. It’s a miracle that you can keep up with all their shenanigans.

“I got the generator to start up and made some coffee!” Johnny happily announces. “Come get it while it and the dorm are nice and warm!”

“I’ll have a cup or two, so long as there’s a ton of cream and sugar!” Grim says whilst smiling. “And I ain’t skimping this time on the sugar!”

“You better if you know what’s good for you,” you sternly say, now out of the greenhouse along with Frankie. “We’re short on sugar and I’m not stocking up till next weekend.”

“Whaaaat?!” Grim exclaims, his lower jaw almost reaching the floor. “Since when did you become such a cheapskate?”

Everyone, including Malleus, did a sharp intake of breath as soon as the words passed the cat’s mouth. Everyone turns their head towards you, awaiting your reaction to Grim’s comment. This isn’t the first time Grim has gotten lippy with you and, given his nature as a mischievous little monster (a common trait between Ramshackle’s residents, Malleus is now noticing), it won’t be his last no matter how badly you scare or pull a fast one under his clawed feet. Even when your face is all puffy and wet with semi-dried tears, the look of “oh you’re in it now” is still so panic-inducing to everyone, ghosts, and feline alike. To the sole Fae present, he thinks of you as nothing short of adorable and wants nothing more than to wipe your messy face clean.

“Well, if you want more sugar there is one way you can get some more.”

“W-W-What is it?” Grim says, pudgy body shaking and sinking into the comfort and small safety of his fuzzy robe.

You approach him and bend down to grab him by the back of his neck, lifting him so he’s at your eye level before deadpanning, “Get a job, Make some money, and then buy your own.”

Once you set Grim down, he scrambles back into the home with an almost comical amount of fear in his eyes. He screams about how he’s never getting a job even if it kills him and his continued determination to find the small money vault you have hidden around the dorm and spend it all on canned tuna. Johnny, Frankie, and you all give a unison chant of good luck to him before he disappears completely.

“Has he made any progress in his search?” Malleus asks.

“Our money vault isn’t even in the house, so no,” Johnny answers, resulting in you and Frankie cackling and high-five one another.

With the power back on, you announce that it was time for a well-deserved break. It’s your turn to make breakfast and you immediately begin to ask everyone for their preferences. Frankie cuts you off and insists he take over your duties for the day. You normally would protest and insist to whoever was offering to cover for you it wasn’t a problem for you at all. “I enjoy doing [insert chore], so it’s fine!” is your usual go-to reasoning, but not this time.

Malleus notices the way you make to protest as usual, but you quickly back down and just let Frankie go ahead inside to take over for you. In normal Ramshackle fashion, Frankie mentions the cigar you were puffing and waving around earlier and says that you owe him another one, particularly an artisanal one that he’s recently read about in the local newspaper and has been aching to try.

“You got any more highly specific goods you want me to fight tooth and nail for?” you sneer.

“No, just the cigar will do,” he says before turning around to head back inside. Before he can close the door behind him all the way he pulls it back and says, “If you get it sometime this week I’ll buy a new bag of sugar.”

You whisper an impressive string of curses under your breath. Malleus has to restrain the urge to laugh at your colorful vocabulary.

“In that case, I hope your schedule is free tomorrow night. I’ll have it by then.”

Frankie gives you a thumbs up before heading back inside. Once the door behind him clicks shut, you turn towards Malleus and he physically feels his body shift from somewhat relaxed to stiff and proper. You notice this and crinkle your nose a bit, something to do when you find something endearing or as a way of silently giggling. Malleus watches with such an unnecessary amount of focus as you reach up to adjust his straw hat and wipe a bit of dirt off the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for leaving you hanging back there,” you say as you pick off a stray leaf that somehow got tangled in his dark locks. “I’m also sorry you had to see me crying like that. I’ve just been so tired lately.”

There it is again. That damn twisting ache right in his heart.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you. “But if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, is your lack of sleep really all that’s wrong with you?”

You give out a long sigh. “I’m guessing Grim told you a bit of what’s been happening since winter break?”

“He has.”

Your arms cross and the ground suddenly becomes more interesting. You’re unsure, but the way your eyebrows press together is a sign that you’re conflicted. Malleus feels his frostbitten hands accumulate a layer of sweat as you silently mull over your thoughts. Despite the pain and hesitance in his heart, he wills himself to grasp you by the arm and pull you into an awkward hug. He knows it’s not exactly what you might need at the moment, and he was fully preparing you to push him away. He’s relieved when you bring your arms around his torso and reciprocate the embrace.

“I’m tired,” you sigh

“You haven’t been resting well, so it makes sense.“

“No,” you shake your head, the tips of your hair tickling Malleus’s neck. “It’s not just a lack of sleep that’s making me feel exhausted. After what happened with Scarabia, especially with Jamil, I don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Are you afraid?” he asks. To think of you as fearful is an entirely foreign concept for him when you’ve only ever been confident and certain of yourself since the first time he met you.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit without skipping a beat.

Considering what you told him, Malleus thinks your fear is justified. You have no defense against magic…

He fills a strain in his neck as his entire body suddenly seized up. You notice this and pull away to ask him what’s wrong. “Nothing,” he quickly dismisses, but you don’t let him go silent on you.

“If,” he hesitates. He’s thinking too rashly already, yet he’s still so compelled to act upon his thoughts. “Should anyone attempt to do you harm, I swear upon my name and title that I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”

He means every word, but you seem to take it far too casually than he would have liked. You press your face against his shoulder and laugh against his skin, your breath bringing him some much-needed temporary warmth. Such an ordinary action, yet it causes another pang within his heart. It settles next to the one that arose before, but he bites his tongue and endures it for your sake.

“Maybe you could play that electric violin for whoever comes after me,” you jest.

As embarrassing as it is to hear that you know about that incident (he’ll have to reprimand Lilia for telling you about that), he can’t help but laugh along with you. If making a bunch of teenagers’ foam from the mouth amuses you, then so be it.

“Thank you for offering to get your hands dirty for my sake,” you say. “That’s one thing I respect about you. You take care of the people you care for.”

His body goes still once again. “Is that right?” is all his mind can wrap around and say.

“Yes, oh Wise and Great Lord Malleus. I do, in fact, respect you.”

He cringes at that title. It’s something he has heard Sebek try to enforce you to refer to Malleus as, which you never do purely so you can get a rise out of his loyal guard. Before he can ask you to never call him that again, a bunch of howl’s ring out, and the two of you pull away from each other. The wolf’s howling is usually a sign that food is ready, which you seem rather eager to get to as you interlock your arm with his and drag him inside with you.

He looks back at his basket of still dirty vegetables. “What about-“

“It’s alright! I’m not throwing a fuss over a few broccoli heads!”

Crispy bacon, over easy and scrambled eggs, and a mountain of sizzling hash browns. Once everyone grabs a plate and sits down at the dining table (Malleus sticks close to you, hoping he can sit next to you), they grab whatever pieces of food they want in whichever quantity. Somewhere in the next room over, a faint melody plays through the speaker of an old record player. The vintage singer has a rather cheeky attitude in her vocals but with the accompanying music, it all comes together harmoniously. It’s perfect for a rather excitable breakfast.

It seems you never told the ghosts too many details about your sudden disappearance during the break. You downplay the true extent of your dilemma as you willingly giving your time and effort to help a desperate Jamil figure out what was causing his normally kind dorm leader to have a sudden personality switch. The ghosts listen carefully, and as you gradually get to the big climax that is Jamil’s betrayal and overblot, followed by Malleus’s sudden appearance, they’re all practically hanging on the edge of their seats. Your tale even intrigues the wolves and Blossom. They gather and settle near the legs of your chair, ushering you to continue your story by whining and scratching your ankle.

You don’t exaggerate Malleus’s part in your tale, something he greatly appreciates. You tell them how things happened just as they did: Grey clouds suddenly covering the sky and the occasional peak of lightning through their fogginess. Just when it seems like Jamil has the upper hand and is going to put an end to Grim and you, as well as Jade, Floyd, and Azul of Octavinelle, Malleus appears out of nowhere and effortlessly zaps the blot right out of the vice dorm leader of Scarabia.

“That deserves some praise,” Benjamin, the third of your ghostly residents, raises his half-filled mug of coffee and extends it towards the middle of the table. “To Malleus!”

Everyone, including you and Grim, raises your glasses and repeats his chant. “To Malleus!”

“To me, I suppose,” Malleus half-heartedly raises his own cup. “It really wasn’t much effort, or any praise really.”

He catches you looking at him in his peripheral and he feels a lump form in this throat that he immediately swallows. “I simply did what I believed you would have done for me if our positions were reversed.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you say after swallowing a hefty mouthful of scrambled eggs. “But it’s nice knowing you have my back. It makes me feel safe.”

“Safe?” Malleus is surprised to hear you say this, considering what you told him earlier. “I make you feel safe?”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “Y-Yeah. I guess you do.”

“You guess?”

“You do,” you say, more definitively this time. “I promise. If you didn’t you’d know.”

He can’t help but laugh. “I can only imagine what interacting with you would be like then.”

“Probably not that good, or not at all. I steer clear of people I don’t particularly like.”

His eyebrows raise in intrigue as he sips his now lukewarm coffee. “What makes you dislike someone?”

“I dislike people I have no respect for,” you say casually. Malleus thinks you might be joking or poking fun at him, but how you take the time to look up to him while you busy yourself with feeding Gunter a few bits of bacon clearly means you’re trying to tell him something secretly. It’s definitely something along the lines of, “I don’t know where this mindset of me not respecting you came from, but it’s a load of bullshit and you need to get that thought out of your head.”

Even within his head, your language is still so vulgar and blunt. Only you would talk to him in such a rude manner.

But he respects that part about you.

[redpandaramblings]

Save the Last Dance for Me  Tamaki x GN Reader

One day.  One day I’ll post to the right blog the first time.

Hellloooo My guys, gals, and non-binary pals!  Remember that short list of upcoming fics I gave you?  Yeah... Forget all that and have a Tamaki drabble.  Bless.  I am still working on my longer content, just needing a pallet cleansing drabble and Engelbert Humperdinck of all people invaded my brain. 

 Content Warnings- Not much this time around.  Mild jealously.  Fluff.  Dancing.  Somewhat outgoing reader.

Tamaki stood in a shadowed corner, the silk cowl of his formal outfit covering his face.  He nursed his drink and shuffled from foot to foot as he counted down the minutes.  The hero gala he was attending wasn’t how he’d prefer to spend the evening.  However, Suneater was a top ten hero.  As such, there was no way his absence wouldn’t be glaringly obvious.  So here he was, suffering through the crowd, the press, the small talk, and the offers to dance.  It was hell.

Well… Some of it was hell.  His friends helped save him from awkward conversations.  The food was pretty good.  And then… there were the views.  Amajiki’s gaze drifted toward the dance floor.  You were glowing.  You always did at these kinds of events.  If given the chance, you’d spend the entire evening on the dance floor, laughing, twirling, and waltzing the hours away.   The drape of your outfit allowed just enough swish to enhance your every move.  Yes, as much as Tamaki hated these big formal events, he’d go to a thousand more to continue to see you this happy.  You absolutely sparkled as you made your way across the floor with one partner after another.

Amajiki could never begrudge you finding other dance partners.  Just the idea of spending the entire night having his moves scrutinised by everyone in attendance made his stomach roil with nausea and anxiety.  It was much more enjoyable to watch how you changed depending on who you danced with.  Iida had asked you to dance early in the evening.  He had led you around the room not ungracefully, but rather with a starting sort of efficiency.  Kaminari meanwhile had been jazzy and goofy.  The two of you had laughed and grooved around the floor in a way that shouldn’t have worked with the music, yet did.  Midnight had taken you to the floor and accompanied you in a sizzling tango that felt almost indecent to watch, yet demanded everyone’s attention.  Izuku, Mina, Yaoyorozu, Taishiro.  Everyone who had any desire to dance each got at least one chance to partner with you, and Tamaki didn’t mind at all.  Except…

Sometimes.  Sometimes hands would travel just too far down your back to be just friendly.  And sometimes they’d lean in and whisper in your ear.  And if those whispers made you throw your head back and laugh while smiling that one smile you get, like you were doing right now…  Tamaki’s grip tightened on the glass he was holding.  You were dancing with Mirio now.  Of course you were.  His friend was strong, handsome, talented, and looked unfortunately good with an arm wrapped around your waist.  You looked greattogether.  Moving together smoothly, showing off that you’d clearly been dancing with each other for years.  Tamaki hates the way it makes his guts twist in knots.  He doesn’t like to think of himself as a jealous person.  Especially not jealous of Mirio.

Amajiki was broken out of his thoughts by the song ending.  Mirio twirled you away and bowed to you with a cheeky grin.  You bowed in return, giving him a smirk of your own.  Straightening, you both glanced around the room until you spotted a certain anxious brooding hero.  Linking arms, you sashayed his way.

“Hey, Suneater!”  Mirio greeted cheerily.  “You doing okay, bud?  Know this isn’t really your thing.”

Tamaki shuffled from foot to foot, only briefly glancing up to meet their eyes.  “I’m surviving.”

Mirio laughed, patting the other man’s upper arm.  “I understand.  Glad you made it this far.  However, I think it’s high time I return something to you.”  And with a soft smile, the blond herded you closer to his raven haired friend.

You grinned as you wrapped your arms around Tamaki, giving him a quick peck on the lips.  “Hi handsome.  You sure you’re doing okay?  This is a lot later than you usually make it.”

Tamaki blushed, setting his glass down before wrapping his own arms tightly around him.  “I’m okay, Bunny.  I knew you were having fun, and didn’t want to ruin your evening.”

“Making sure you’re comfortable would never ruin my evening, love.”  You teasingly tug his cowl further down to half cover his eyes.

Tamaki hums noncommittally and adjusts his hold until he can bury his nose in your hair and breathe in the calming scent that was all you.  “I know.  But I want to spoil you.”

You nuzzled his neck humming softly.  In the background you could hear the band telling everyone this is the last number in their set.  You were surprised to feel Tamaki pull away from you.  He captured your hands in his larger ones and started tugging you back toward the dance floor.  You raised your eyebrows at him, but followed easily.  He awkwardly placed a hand at your waist as the music rose soft and slow.  You smiled encouragingly as you placed your hand on his shoulder.  “This is new.” You teased gently as you both began to sway.

“I just…  I…”  He bit his lip, chewing it as he got his thoughts in order.  “I love watching you.  I love when you have fun.  I don’t mind when you flirt and have a good time with it.  But…”  He looked up at you shyly from beneath his cowl.  “I… I want all your last dances to be with me.”

“Oh Sweetheart…”  You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his pink, bitten lips.  “I promise you everyone knows exactly who’s taking me home tonight.”

Amajiki blushed bright red, but still gave a hesitant smirk.  “Yeah?”

You rolled your eyes and gave his chest a light slap.  “I don’t think anyone’s surprised that I’m planning on going home with my very talented handsome husband, who I love very much.”

Tamaki’s smile grew wider as he pressed his forehead against yours.  “Say it again?”

“Dork.”  You wrapped both your arms around his neck, both of you still swaying even after the music ended.  “I love you, hubby.  Can’t wait to go home with you.”

“Love you too, bunny.  So much.”

Taglist-

@wootato @garbagepale-kid

[asthmark]

❝ not alone ❞, l.ty

synopsis → “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”

word count → 2.5k

warnings → angsty!!! the plot may not make sense since it’s literally 1 in the morning oops

a/n → i hope this concept makes sense and it isn’t too confusing or messy!! if it is just shoot me an ask i would be more than happy to clarify :] anyway i actually like the outcome of this but i am too tired to go back and reread it all for any mistakes so i just hope google docs has my back lol gn everyone

7:00 A.M.

the alarm you set for every year at the exact hour goes off at its appointed time, much to your dismay. the mere sound of your phone beeping has a knot forming in your stomach. you wished it would stop, that everything would just stop but that was beyond unrealistic. in fact, you felt foolish for even letting yourself think like that. no matter how badly you wanted things to change, they never would. you would have to endure the same things every year.

you had struggled to fall asleep the night before, that exact thought on your mind and the dread of facing the following day eating away at you. you had only managed to get some rest because of taeyong, who held onto you tightly and caressed your hair as he whispered sweet words to ease you into much needed sleep.

but the day was here now and there was no amount of romantic words or tender touches that would change that. there was absolutely nothing either of you could do about it.

you lean over towards your nightstand to turn off the alarm and taeyong stirs when he feels you begin to shift around in his arms. you lay beside him, staring up at the ceiling as he slowly begins to wake up. he yawns and stretches his limbs out on the mattress which was routinely for him. this would usually be followed by him trying to give you a smooch only for you to squirm away, giggling as you complained about his morning breath.

it is not one of those mornings.

8:09 A.M.

you end up having cereal for breakfast, another big switch up from your routine. normally, you two would browse the internet in search of a recipe that looked promising and try your best to recreate it. you would end up with flour, sugar and dirty dishes all over the place but you never cared. then you would sit at the couch, happily enjoying the finished product and chatting with the tv playing softly in the background.

that morning you sit at the dinner table silently, the cereal in your bowls going soggy before either of you had made a dent in it. you had lost any appetite and from the looks of it so has taeyong.

“you should eat.”

you glance up at your boyfriend. he isn’t eating either, instead he focuses on dipping his spoon into his cereal, bringing it above the bowl only to let it fall back in again. you put your silverware down. “i don’t think i can.”

he hums softly, agreeing with you. “are you nervous?”

it went without saying that you were both terrified. but you know he’s just trying to make conversation. you just nod your head anyway.  

10:31 A.M.

you and taeyong move to sit on the couch, turning on the tv so you don’t have to bear anymore uncomfortable silences.

even the newscaster looks down in the dumps, as expected. her voice lacks emotion as she speaks about the forecast, knowing nobody would be taking genuine interest unless it was to get their mind off of the current situation.

what did she expect? the world was restarting, people weren’t going to care about the weather.

“now, for the ongoing events,” says another news anchor. “as we are all well aware of, today is the annual reset. businesses worldwide have closed, most people opting to spend the day with their friends and family and we advise any viewers to do the same. talk to your loved ones about the memories you’ve made in the past year and write down the things and people you do not want to forget.”

you turn to taeyong only to find his gaze is already focused on you. you don’t hesitate to grab the hand that rests in his lap and intertwined his fingers with yours. neither of you say a word as you go back to watching the television, taeyong giving your hand a reassuring squeeze every so often.

12:46 P.M.

by noon, you and taeyong had begun cleaning your apartment, making sure it was well organized so that the next day you could focus only on getting settled in to your, essentially, new lives. you do the standard dusting and vacuuming along with similar around-the-house chores. while going through the closet, taeyong finds a shoe box full of polaroids you two had taken throughout the years. there are dates and other additional notes scribbled in sharpie on every single picture so your post-reset selves could read about the details of each photo since you would not be able to remember it. he calls out your name, smiling brightly when he sees your face light up as you fondly look over your shared moments.

“i’m so glad we got that camera,” you say, shifting through a stack of the photographs.

he nods. “probably your best idea yet.”

you find a picture of him giving you a piggyback ride and coo. it’s quite blurry but you can clearly see the huge grins on your faces. “look at us.” you hand him the photo. “we look so happy.”

he makes a noise of agreement, staring lovingly at the image. “you know, every reset we’re supposed to forget everyone and everything but no matter what i can never seem to forget how happy you make me.”

“quit it.” you shove his shoulder, smiling sadly as you attempt to blink away the tears forming in your eyes. “i don’t want to cry right now, there’s still so much work to do.”

“it can wait.” he opens his arms and that’s all it takes for you to break. you crawl into his embrace, sobbing softly into his chest. it tugs at his heart strings. he tucks his chin above your head but you still notice how his shoulders shake and quiet hiccups escape his lips.

3:28 P.M.

once you and taeyong get tired of being confined to your apartment, you decide to go out for a breath of fresh air. you walk around aimlessly and your final destination turns out to be olympic park. as expected, it’s quite empty since as you had heard on the news, everyone was spending their last couple hours with those they loved in private.

you take in the beautiful scenery and if either you catch sight of a pretty rock or blooming flower, you will stop to pick it up and carefully place it in your pockets for safe keeping. you had found that they served as good reminders of all the time you spent together. in fact, there are many more of these mini souvenirs in your home, decorating your shelves.  

“hold up,” says taeyong suddenly.

when you look at him his eyes have zeroed in on something on the ground. he kneels down and picks up a smooth rock. you can’t help but notice the familiarity of it’s color.

“pretty, right?” he says, dropping the item in the palm of your hand. “it matches your eyes.”

you smile at him, finding his attention to detail incredibly endearing. you hold on to the rock, feeling its curves with your fingers until a cluster of chrysanthemums catches your attention and you have to free up your hands to pick one. you decide on a yellow one and present it to your boyfriend.

“here,” you say. “for you.”

“hey, aren’t i supposed to be the one giving you flowers?” taeyong asks but he takes it from you anyway.

“you’re supposed to give flowers to people you like,” you say. “and i like you.”

“you like me?” he asks, gasping softly. “how embarrassing.”

you go along with his joke. “don’t you like me too?”

he shakes his head and makes a face. “no way... i love you.”

you shove his shoulder. “so cheesy.”

he can’t argue with that so he just nods and chuckles as he tucks the chrysanthemum into his dark locks of hair. at seeing this, you raise the polaroid camera round your neck toward taeyong and he, already used to it, automatically poses for you. he puts his arms over his head, curving them into a kind of crooked heart. he gives an open mouthed smile only resuming to his normal position when he hears the click of the camera. you and him share a laugh once the polaroid picture develops completely.

“oh god, i look ridiculous,” he comments. “please get rid of that.”

you only give him a sarcastic, “yeah sure” and continue walking.

you two never got rid of pictures, no matter how ridiculous or unflattering they were. you agreed that every moment you shared counted and deserved to be remembered.  

although, they never would be.

5:45 P.M.

you chew on the cap of your pen, massaging your aching hand. you had been writing for almost an hour and you had your cramping fingers to prove it. despite the discomfort, you aren’t one to break tradition. the ‘things i love about you’ list was an ongoing thing you and taeyong had been doing for... ever. they definitely came in handy if either if you wanted to read about what the other was like in past years.

“everything good over there?” taeyong asks, from the other side of the couch.

you shake your head. “this is too hard. i have no idea how i’ve kept this up for four years.”

he puts a hand over his heart. “wow, i’m that hard to love, huh?”

“you know that’s not what i meant,” you say, glaring. “i just have so much stuff to say about you, so much stuff i want future me to know.”

he nods, solemnly. “i get it. i don’t want to leave out a thing but it’s kinda hard to fit a year’s worth of feelings and emotions into a couple pages.”

your let your head fall onto the couch. “why do you have to be so lovable?”

taeyong points an accusing finger at you. “i could ask you the same thing! you’re the most wonderful human being on the planet, if i try to write everything i love about you my hand will fall off!”

you sit up to stare at him. he looks genuinely offended by your ‘wonderfulness’. you pick up your pen and paper.

adorably dramatic, you write.

he scoots closer to you, exclaiming, “hey, what did you just put!”

you hug your notepad tightly to your chest. “no peeking!”

7:12 P.M.

your boyfriend hands you his letter with hopeful eyes. unlike the lists that had been made hours earlier, these writings had been in the works for quite some time. there are letters you and taeyong had written for each other dated all the way from 2016. that was also the year the first polaroids you owned were from so you both assumed it was when you had begun dating. if you ever want to have a good cry, all you have to do is find those letters.

in them, there are heartfelt words for the other person’s eyes only describing how they felt around them, why they were so special, among other sentiments. most importantly, though, you always included why you would never forget the other person. of course, one could say how ironic this was considering that forgetting was what the reset was all about but nevertheless, it was reassuring to read. it made your love seem unbreakable; something so strong it defied the impossible.  

you give taeyong your letter, feeling somewhat nervous. he doesn’t hesitate to open the envelope carefully. he slowly removes your letter from inside and you mirror his delicacy. the pair of you sit in absolute silence as you read the words off the pages.

my y/n,

what an amazing year it’s been with you. i know i say that in every letter i write but it’s really true. i never wrote things like this before you came along. only the basics—my name, who my parents were, my birthday, etc. you know, things like that. frankly, i had nothing else worth remembering. but now i do. you’re my whole world, the only thing i truly know and i am convinced i could not be any happier or luckier.

i don’t know what a life without you is like literally but i wouldn’t have it any other way. the situation the world faces with this whole reset mess isn’t ideal and i’ll oftentimes think of what a normal life would be like. even then, in this perfect universe, you’re still by my side.

i still wake up next to you.

i still spend every waking moment with you.

i still fall asleep with you in my arms.

you are still my everything. i am convinced you always will be.

many people avoid love or close relationships nowadays knowing that at the end of the year it’ll all be erased no matter what. how dumb is that? they don’t know what they’re missing out on. having a partner is nothing short of a blessing and you’ve taught me that by being with me every step of the way. sure, forgetting our past together doesn’t get any easier and neither does writing these letters but i’d write a million of them if that’s what it took to have you by my side.

i can only hope you’ll continue being there for me and give me something worth remembering in future years.

you are the light of my life and i can’t wait to fall in love with you again.

yours truly,

taeyong

the tears stroll down your cheeks and drip down on to the paper in your shaky hands. you use your sleeve to try and wipe them away to the best of your ability without smudging the ink. taeyong finishes reading your letter moments later, placing on the coffee table and only staring at you with a distant look in his eyes.

your voice comes out in a whisper. “are you okay?”

he nods, sniffling but his shiny eyes say otherwise. “can you maybe just... hold me?” his voice cracks along with your heart.

he ends up with his head in your lap, your fingers pulling and tugging at his soft hair. you have a couple hours left but you wouldn’t be opposed to leaving the year in this exact position.

11:59 P.M.

taeyong has made it clear he wants you to be the first thing he sees when you enter the new year. so, you spend your last minute getting into a position that will allow that.

you end up sitting sit cross-legged across from him. he’s in the same position and in the small distance between you, your fingers meet. the hold he has on your hands is so tight his knuckles have turned white. his eyes bore into yours and although he doesn’t say a word, his hazel orbs let you know it’s all going to be okay. you repeat those words to yourself.

it’s going to be okay.

it’s going to be okay.

it’s going to be okay.

“i love you,” you blurt.

he only has a couple seconds to respond.

“i love you, too. if you’re going to remember one thing, let it be that.”

[mxnark]

ball of fire n. a dynamic person capable of or displaying rapid and highly effective thought, action, etc.:

(aka the moving out solo)

it’s obvious that the past month hadn’t been the kang household’s favorite due to recent events involving the daughter. a drift had been caused by the fact that mina was essentially going against her mother’s wishes for her. rather than doing what her mother thought was best for her in order to live a happy life, she instead followed her heart- wait that’s too cheesy- her gut by signing a contract and going home in hours so late that she is the only one making a peep in the house as she quietly walks to her room.

though she didn’t get to see her mother for most of her days, she couldn’t deny her presence in the house. she was sure her mother couldn’t deny her own daughter’s, either. she feels as if her mother had a cloud of disappoint in her head over the fact that mina isn’t the daughter she had hoped to be. mina’s cloud, on the other hand, was of guilt over the whole situation. and her usual bright, fiery personality is dimmed by the late hour when she opens the door to her home.

there are nights where she doesn’t even go to her home at all. in the last month, she asked to stay at daniel’s after practicing for evaluations with her group. she doesn’t go in-depth with her reasons as to why, but she thinks he understands enough if he lets her stay over. and on those nights, the ache in her heart is more faint.

that’s the reason as to why she and her father are carrying things out to his car. it was going to take her to the train to her new home with chungha. somewhere closer from work. further from… here. it makes sense, anyway. with her being a new addition to the hertz project that the older was also involved in, it only strengthened her choice in wanting to move in with her. and thankfully, she said yes, despite the fact she knew how rambunctious kang mina could be. (she jokes… mostly.)

as he closes the trunk of his car, he looks over at her and asks her a question. “you wanna say bye to your mom before you go?” mina makes a face. “come on. please?”

“okay,” she says with a sigh, walking into the house to head for her mother’s room. the closed door is more intimidating than it should be for her. after all, she hasn’t… verbally spoken with her mother since everything happened.

she knocks on it, taking a few seconds before twisting the knob and peeking in to see what her mother was up to. she was faced away from the door, looking at something that mina couldn’t see from outside. she decides to go in properly to talk to her mother.

“mom,” she starts off, her voice going silent due to timidness. “i’m getting ready to move. i just wanted to let you know. dad and i already got everything in the car, so i’m good to go.”

silence in response. that’s fair, in her opinion. she thinks she deserves it, to be honest.

“i wanted to let you know before i had to go on my way,” she continued, feeling more and more embarrassed as she spoke. “and… thank you for all these years of taking care of me. i know you and dad do a lot for me and i know i act ungrateful sometimes. i guess i was just upset about moving to korea.” and about other things, but she didn’t want to anger her mother with her honest thoughts about the family. she feels as if she’s better than that.

“thank you for loving me and always looking out for me.” though it feels weird to say, considering everyone in this house knew that her mother and her certainly didn’t see eye to eye on what was best for the girl. “i know i’m not the best daughter, especially with all that’s happened. but i’m thankful for all that you’ve done for me. i’m not good at letting you know, but i love you. a lot.” she bows her head to the other to end her speech. it felt… polite, but also fitting for her to do.

she waits for a response from her mother. with the fact that she was more closer to her than she was while waiting outside her door, she was able to see more of what her mother was doing. she had a book open. and it didn’t take long for mina to figure out what she was doing before she heard her mother sniff, still not looking at mina at all while she was there.

she turns around to save herself from staying any longer. she knew that if she did, she’d only regret her decision and she didn’t want to. this was good for her. but even if so, it hurt to basically have the fact that she hurt her mother be confirmed.

a tear strolls down her cheek, but she wipes it with the back of her finger, sniffling as a way to hold herself together. after taking a deep breath and blinking her eyes rapidly to dry her eyes from spilling any more, she walks downstairs before heading outside to the car once again. she walks up to her dad and he looks at her with a small smile. she’s not sure what it means. it was either pride or sympathy.

“you ready to go?”

she nods her head.

“alright. let’s go.”

ginger is a color she’s never really thought of trying before. she was always afraid of the concept of bleaching her hair. the lightest her hair was before this was a red-tinted brown and that was because she used cheap box-dye for brown hair. but she didn’t hate the hair. in fact she loved it, as she was the one who asked for it. sure, the process of it was itchy for her scalp, but the result came out perfectly. and she feels a lot more confident.

she makes sure to post her selfies as soon as she comes home, her face all smiley after she had just seen her boyfriend. as soon as she gets on her bed, she grabs her phone to send him a few texts, the happiness still very much in her as she wishes him a good night. god, never did she think she’d be all giddy because of a boy. but she’s happy that boy is choi soobin. she’d rather it be him than anyone else.

kang mina. in a relationship. she really couldn’t get that thought out of her head.

she lies in bed on her phone for a few minutes before she jolts up, having the urge to write her thoughts down. there was a lot she wanted to record in her journal since the last time she had written in it. and only half of them were about how soobin makes her so happy. gosh, she’s bonkers for him to the point that it’s embarrassing.

as soon as she finds the journal and her usual pen, she begins to write in it.

august 2020

i have so much to update you on!

it’s only been a month since i became a trainee in sphere and i just got added in the heartz project! it’s a project that sphere’s doing for their upcoming girl group and three girls have already debuted!!! OMG it’s so exciting to be involved with such a project!!! there’s a lot of talented girls in the project. like yoorim (who joined the same time i did!!! we have so much in common it’s kind of scary), chungha, the lee gahyeon, and the yuzu!!! and so much more cool people!!!! unfortunately, it means i won’t be doing evaluations with my brother or other trainee friends until the project is over (or if i debut. but that’s a big if! there’s so many talented girls in the project!!). but, the coaches must’ve seen something in me, so all i can do is work hard and prove myself that i’m worthy!!!! and also make more friends, because everyone is seriously so cool. >_<

i also dyed my hair!!! it’s ginger… or orange? or red??? i don’t know but it’s that color!! and i look really cool with it tbh!! i kinda look like beverly marsh when she had long hair… or ladybird… or flame princess… or any cool person who has had ginger hair. either way, i look super cute with it!!

and i showed soobin a pic of me with it and he was so cute omgggg ㅠㅠ ugh he’s seriously so great every time i talk about him i get all smiley and butterflies get in my stomach and !!!! yeah wow i need to have another entry talking about how much i like him it’s kind of embarrassing but thankfully i can be all gross about how much i like him in here

i finally moved out of my parents’... it was hard, i will admit. having lived there for so long since i came back to korea does that, i guess. i don’t think i would’ve moved out had it not been for the getting casted thing. i always thought i’d leave after i graduated from ungrad school then move onto grad school. but, i’m not going to school!!! so that much has happened lol

i’m going to miss a lot of stuff about living with them, but i know it’s for the better. idk if i’d want to see my mom for a while. maybe my dad, but not her. idk we’ll see! for now, i’m just happy that i’m living somewhere better. and with someone i can look up to!! even if i am getting closer to chungha unnie, i really do think she’s such a cool person and i hope she can debut in heartz, soon… and hopefully i can debut with her!! but we’ll see what the future holds!!!

and i’ll keep you updated on that future, too!!

that’s all!! i’m getting tired and i don’t want to drool on u lolol gn!! will write in u… in a month maybe? 

after she finishes the last sentence, she closes the book and starts to get ready for bed. 

[tarithenurse]

CWs, WiPs and posting

Hi! Welcome to my masterlists and updates.

Feel free to browse along and enjoy - I’d be delighted for any comments and reblogs you’d throw my way as it truly makes me happy and feels like my work is appreciated. Or maybe head to my AO3 and kudos there?

However: Don’t repost, ofc. Not here, not anywhere else - not even credited. Also please for the love of all you hold dear, don’t feed my works into anything AI. Please. I beg you. I actually care about my stories and what happens to what I write - some of the chars might not be mine but everything else is.

On a different note: I have a sort of taglist so if you want on it, just let me know. It’s probably safest to send and ASK and once I’ve answered it should be good.

Content/warnings

Smut/lemons/nsfw/sexual themes = * Mental health issues = % Violence/gore = # Always watch out for individual chapter warnings/content. Reader is per default female unless otherwise stated.

Latest updates:

I update my D&D campaign each Monday - se further below for masterlist on that. Other than that it’ll be very sporadic what I post and hugely dependant on feedback.

Last Second

Sam Wilson &/x GN!reader. You've made the mistake to wait with the holiday shopping and you really should have known better. Thankfully a stranger is of help to you.

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Handle with care *

Eventual Bucky x fem!reader. Ready to start your new job at Stark Tower, everything suddenly changes when you get an offer you can’t refuse.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 ||

Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 *

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Be safe

Satoru Gojo x gn!reader. Drabble. Gojo is dealing with a lot and it comes crashing down after the team has been handling a curse.

MCU Masterlist

Featuring Bucky, Heimdal, Loki, Natasha Romanoff, N’Jadaka, Sam Wilson, Shuri, Steve, T’Challa, Thor, and Tony Stark.

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Anime Masterlist

Currently including the fandoms of: Enn Enn no Shouboutai, Naruto, Jujutsu Kaisen, and a single Spy x Family.

Nightingale (featuring Kakashi) is unfortunately on an indefinite hiatus.

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Supernatural Masterlist

A single series and some various one-shots both smutty and platonic and with and without reader insert.

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The Witcher

If I succeed * # Geralt x fem!reader. Reader finds herself in the company of Geralt, Jaskier, and Roach…and a choice that is nigh impossible to turn down despite the risks.

Challenges and celebrations!

Wonderful contributions by people who have decided to partake in the 1k and 1500 follower celebration challenge.

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Crossovers

Space Nurse (MCU/MiB) (Finished (prematurely)) * From prompt: “You’re a nurse who’s just gotten a new job at a local hospital, but due to a clerical error, you’re accidentally sent to a top-secret hospital that treats extraterrestrials visiting Earth”.

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Original fiction

I see fire # % * (WiP)

Due to events in her childhood, Zilvra sets off on a journey across the world. She makes friends and gets involved in events much greater than she could have anticipated: the fate of the Material Plane. D&D homebrew campaign.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 || Chapter 8 || Chapter 9 || Chapter 10 || Chapter 11 || Chapter 12 || Chapter 13 || Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 || Chapter 16 || Chapter 17 || Chapter 18 || Chapter 19 || Chapter 20 || Chapter 21 || Chapter

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Living at Night * % # (RiP)

Reader finds out in the worst possible way that there’s a whole different side to the town she lives in. Werewolves, vampires, ghouls. And a tentative truce.

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter

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(dividers by the talented @firefly-graphics​)