#hes scared of his powers and doesn’t want to hurt anyone

[frozenpinees]

small family tree for the pov characters of po3/oots

If you didn’t notice, dovewing, ivypool and lionblazes parents have changed! Plus some character names. In my rewrite, the 3 (or 4 in this au) are split up across the 4 clans (dove = shadow, jay = thunder, lion = river and holly = wind) so their family tree has changed to reflect that.

-dove and ivy are the kits of snowbird and scorchfur (who in canon are the parents of berryheart and a bunch of other cats. ivypools name is also changed to pigeonfur to keep a bird theme between the 2 sisters

-lionblaze (now named lionmane) is the son of a riverclan cat swallowtail and a thunderclan cat rainwhisker. these 2 actually became friends during the journey to the lake territories in canon so I thought it would be interesting if they continued their relationship

-holly and jay keep their canon parents, but crowfeather (now crowfoot, in my au feathertail survives in moonrise so he’s named after his parents instead) agrees to take hollykit back to windclan to raise her with breezekit. brambleclaw and squirrelflight raise jayfeather (now jaytalon, and he becomes a warrior)

Wow that was a lot! I’m so excited to draw more for this au in the future

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: to blanc, you are the change he needed, and your pressing secret won't change that.

WARNINGS: mentions of mortality, blood. Vampire stuff.

COMMENTS: ok ok so @vivislosingitagain here is my thought process YOU like biting people and sucking their blood so YOU are a vampire. and HEY GUESS WHAT vampires are IMMORTAL kind of. and im pretty sure blanc is really fucking old so i think mortality angst would work great with him BUT WHAT IF HIS PARTNER WAS AS OLD AS HE WAS AND BIT HIM. that's the post.

also im so sorry if blanc is out of character i have seen this man three times in the routes ive played + the prologue oops.

It’s a clear night. The stars are bright in the sky, just as they were hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Blanc doesn’t know if they’ll ever change, but he takes comfort in their consistency. They’re stationary, unmoving, unshifting, just like him. He’s always been in Cradle, long enough to see the shattering of bonds between the armies and the first Alice fall. He’s seen the skirmishes and the blood and the carnage.

And he’s seen you, the one who followed him into the rabbit hole and into Cradle.

He remembers thinking you were cute. He remembers Oliver scolding him for speaking his mind, and he remembers you tearing your eyes away from him, a shy smile on your lips. You’ve always been alluring, in a way he never anticipated, and it makes him wonder if someone from the Land of Reason can really be magical like the people of Cradle.

It’s no use though—he knows the passage of time will take you away. He knows love (what he feels for you, there’s no doubt about it) is a powerful force, but it cannot break the way the sun and moon rise and fall, it cannot stop the stars from dying light years away, it cannot stop your inevitable aging.

He knows this, and yet he can’t let go. He greets you in the morning with a soft pat on your head, leaning over your bed as you stretch and yawn. His gaze softens when you rub your eyes and look over at him, and you’re looking at him like he’s the only thing you ever want to see.

He’s so selfish—he wants so badly for you to only look at him.

For someone so keenly aware of how mortal you are, he knows he's being awfully flippant about it. It’s the folly of man, to be so foolish as to yearn, but there’s always the possibility that fate will take pity on his poor soul and listen to its cries for his love to stay.

And so, the next night, a night that should be no different from any other, he breaks his routine. He keeps you up late, chatting over tea as the full moon rises in the sky, asking you if you want to go home. He watches you as you go quiet, your previously bright smile fading into a thoughtful frown. You’re staring into your tea as if it can give you the answer, and Blanc hopes the tea will give you the same answer he would.

I wish you would stay. I wish you would stay with me. I wish you would think I’m worth it. I wish that if I had to be hurt then you would be the one to hurt me because I’ve never loved anyone like you and I doubt I ever will. I wish you would be the one to thrust this dagger into my heart so fate doesn’t have the chance.

“...I want to stay with you.” you say, and Blanc knows you’re hiding something from him but he can’t bring himself to ask when you already look so worried.

“Are you sure?” he asks, reaching across the table to place a hand on yours.

Your head jerks up and you meet his gaze with parted lips—almost like you want to tell him but are far too scared.

“You can tell me anything.” he stresses, squeezing your hand gently.

“I’m not...” you purse your lips, looking away again as you choose your words carefully, “I’m not having doubts about staying here, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Blanc holds back his sigh of relief in favor of another inquisitive glance. Your brow furrows and he knows you feel his stare, your cute canines poking at your lower lip as you gnaw on it pensively.

“I have a secret I don’t think I’m ready to share yet.” you say softly, turning back to him, “I will someday. I just...need time.”

Blanc laughs, a sound that's full of relief and love and sounds like the wind chimes that hang in your no longer temporary bedroom’s window, the ones that have been there since you came and will be there when—if—you leave.

“Darling.” he breathes, staring straight into your eyes with so much love, “I have all the time in the world.”

The full moon sinks beneath the horizon and the sun comes up again. The teacups from the night before have been cleaned and placed back on their shelves, and the cake you two cut slices out of remains in the fridge. There are still traces of you within the house—your skincare is still in the bathroom, your toothbrush is next to his, and your chair still has a cushion of your favorite color. None of those things have been removed because you didn’t leave.

You’re still in your bedroom, sleeping soundly, but this time Blanc is there with you, his arms wrapped around you. His body is tangled with yours, your legs intertwining as the bed sheets knot themselves around your limbs. Your head is resting right over his heart, the part of him that’s pounding away for you. Gently, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and stares down at your sleeping face, the face that shows him all of your thoughts and emotions, the face that belongs to the person who loves him enough to stay.

He wakes you up with a kiss on your forehead, a kiss on the bridge of your nose, a kiss on your left eyelid and a kiss on your right, a kiss on your jaw—

He sighs when you start to stir, propping yourself up on your elbows. The bed sheets fall off your body like water cascading down the side of a cliff, and your bleary eyes have never looked more beautiful. He lays there, admiring you in the morning light as the wind chimes chime, the soft breeze from the cracked open window ruffling through your hair.

You shiver.

“Darling,” Blanc calls, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Good morning.”

You smile when you turn to look at him, and you allow yourself to fall back against the mattress next to him.

“Good morning.” you murmur, your nails tracing the curve of his cheekbone before tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, “You look so handsome.”

Ever the charmer, he’s rarely been charmed himself. And so he does the only thing he deems appropriate, and thanks you with a kiss on the back of your hand.

Weeks pass, and Blanc finds himself growing into this new routine. You're a sign of change, that he knows for sure. His own room remains vacant for the most part unless you decide to pull him into his room instead of your own when you’re ready for bed. It makes no difference to him where you go, only that he can follow you like the lovesick fool he is.

Except you’re not leading him to either of your bedrooms tonight.

You’re leading him outside, under the pale moonlight and into the chilly nighttime breeze. He looks up at the full moon and holds your hand a little tighter.

“Thank you for giving me time.” you say, the wind swelling as it passes between the two of you and further into the night, “I’m ready to tell you what I’ve been hiding from you now. It’s...not fair to keep it from you any longer.”

“I understand,” he smiles softly, cupping your cheek, “Go ahead.”

“I’m a vampire.” you say, and it takes his brain a few moments to catch up, “I’ve...found it hard to get blood in Cradle but since meeting with Kyle’s he’s managed to get me blood when I need it. I don’t like drinking from animals or people but it...has to be done for me to stay alive.”

Blanc’s brain is whirring as you spill your guts to him, your mouth moving faster and faster as you explain how despised vampires are in the Land of Reason, how people view them as monsters and how you’re certain you’re cursed.

Cursed. What a funny word to say to him.

“Is that why your canines are so sharp?” he blurts, leaning closer to your face.

You stop talking, bending backward just a bit at his sudden closeness.

“I—I’m sorry, what?” you ask, looking confused.

“Ah, well....I always thought they were cute.” he smiles kindly, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I...” you blink owlishly before shaking your head in disbelief, “Blanc, I just told you I’m a vampire.”

“Indeed you did.”

Your mouth falls open as if looking for the right words to say, and yet you come up with nothing.

“You can feed from me if you wish. I don’t want you to suffer any longer.” he offers like its the most natural thing in the world.

Still, you say nothing.

And then he murmurs your name, as soft as the flower petals brushing against your ankles.

“I don’t want to use you like that. I don’t want you to be a food source for me.” you grit your teeth, staring at the ground like you couldn’t be more ashamed, “I don’t want to be the monster the Land of Reason made me out to be.”

“You’re not. I give myself to you willingly, and I'll do it over and over again.” Blanc murmurs, hands slipping away from you.

It takes you a moment to realize he’s slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt, leaving his collarbone open to the nighttime breeze and your eyes.

“My love.” he opens his arms for you and his shirt slips off his shoulder, leaving his skin vulnerable—

“I give myself to you.”

And he pulls you into his chest, as he whispers words of love telling you that you can bite him, drink from him, take all that you need and that it will be okay because he’d give you everything if you asked for it, and that you changed his life for the better, you brought springtime’s flowers and winter’s shimmering ice and summer’s warm sunlight and autumn’s delicate, beautiful leaves to a life that was so repetitive and boring until you arrived—a life that belonged to the man you see before you but not anymore because its yours and it will always be yours.

Tears prick your eyes as you kiss his skin, worshiping each freckle and small scar you can reach. Your canines poke insistently at his skin and you ignore the urge for one, two, three, four, five seconds before your mouth opens and you bite down, hoping the small gasp that leaves his lips isn’t one of pain. You’re careful not to take too much but it tastes so good and who knew drinking from the one you loved could make you feel so happy and full.

Blanc looks up at the moon as you feed, happiness and adoration blurring his vision as he thinks about you, you who trusted him enough to bite him, to tell him who you were, you who stayed behind for him even though you could have left.

He stares up at the moon and sighs because he’s in love. He’s in love with you.

And after you’re done, after you pull away and lick the puncture marks to soothe them, after you press a dozen more kisses to his skin, Blanc still loves you. His blood is smeared around your mouth but he pulls you in anyway, kissing you with everything he has because you deserve nothing less than that.

And he loves you.

Over and over again, he loves you.

He doesn’t know how long he’ll be aging or how long you will have by his side, but he knows that if you will forever be his constant, he’ll come out okay in the end.

[hanafubukki]

MALLEUUUSS 😭😭😭

I’ll give you a hug 🫂🫂🫂

Malleus is waiting on lilia (someone give him a hug pls 🥺)

Someone explain to me how malleus doens't know he's lonely ... but know what it is :(

Just a quick someting befpre the big reveal

FINALLY BACK HOME PHONE LESS BROKEN 🙏🏻 still some issues with work tho imma get it done tho!!!!!!!...

[whatswrongwithblue]

Alastor Headcannons

Fem cat demon reader in a relationship with the Radio Demon

SFW

Rosie introduced him to you. Maybe not necessarily with the idea that you two would be romantic, but she saw similarities between you two and knew you would eventually hit it off.

Once you stopped constantly arguing, that is.

The man had been an Overlord for so long and had sworn off attempting romance for an even longer period, that he genuinely did not recognize his feelings for you as romantic inclinations at first.

He knew he liked you. Admired you. And enjoyed your company. Could talk to you for hours about anything and everything. So obviously that meant he wanted to own your soul.

That blew up in his face – almost literally.

He quickly found out there was nothing he could offer you, or do to you, including putting you in harms way, to force you into making any kind of deal with him. He couldn’t make himself do a damn thing to you. And that scared him and made him avoid you for a long time after that.

But when you two did eventually reunite, it was a lightbulb moment for him, and he pretty much immediately started pursuing an actual relationship with you.

PDA isn’t really his thing, besides hand holding and possibly a hand on the small of your back if he’s feeling extra possessive or wanting to show you off.

The biggest exception to this rule is dancing. He loves to take you dancing.

Surprisingly, he really doesn’t mind others knowing you two are an item.

Some might think he’d want to hide it, worried that others would see you as a weakness to exploit but honestly? Who would dare go after something the Radio Demon held in such high regard. Let them try, my dear.

In private, if he’s in a good mood, he’s quite the sweety.

His love language is definitely acts of service and quality time.

He’ll want to start each day relaxing, enjoying coffee and breakfast with you. He cooks. And throughout the day he really enjoys just being the same room with you, even if you’re both absorbed in your own tasks.

In private, if he’s in a bad mood, he’s very distant.

Don’t touch him and try not to interrupt his work.

He’ll still unconsciously show his affection for you by letting his guard down in these moments.

He’ll let his mask slip a little, show you how upset he is when he would never let anyone else know what’s capable of actually getting under his skin.

He’ll be in some disheveled state. Have his jacket off, or bow tie undone, or hair tied back. He’ll have his microphone across the room. Little things to show he’s still comfortable being vulnerable with you but still . . . best not push it because then he’ll get a little mean.

If you’ve accidentally hurt his feelings in some way, then the insults will start. He’ll call you annoying or dramatic, but he won’t raise his voice unless you do first. He rarely swears so when he does, you know he’s completely at his wits end with you or with whatever else has upset him.

He would never ever lay a hand on you.

If he’s really pushed to the edge, his power might be harder to control. Lights may break, his shadow will go nuts on the wall around you, and he’ll even take on a more demonic, imposing form, but you’ll still feel completely safe in his presence.

Have I mentioned how rare these arguments are? There’s a reason why he’s comfortable enough to be in a relationship with you, because 99% of the time, you understand each other perfectly and can calm the other one down.

At the end of a “no touch day” he’ll usually come find you and initiate some type of cuddle. Usually once you’ve already gone to bed.

He’ll slip under the sheets behind you, probably still a little damp from a shower, and either be the big spoon or, if you’re awake, rest his head on your chest while you stroke his ears.

Those ears are mighty sensitive. Not in a sexual way, but it always sooths his exhausted nervous system when he allows you to touch them like that.

That, and your purrs. No lullaby in the world is as potent as the mesmerizing sensation of your purrs when his body is laid close against yours.  

It took him a few months to admit it, but after the first time he told you he loved you; he says it all the time. His mother always told him you couldn’t overuse that phrase if you meant it, so you tend to hear it multiple times a day.

He isn’t fluent in Louisiana Creole, but he knows a few phrases, and will slip into the native accent of his youth and whisper them in your ears when he’s trying to sooth you if you’re the one upset.

He took decades to propose. You never pestered him about it, but Rosie did – and that probably made him take even longer to get around to it than if she had just let it alone.

Neither of you were super into the idea of a big ceremony but then word got out and half of Cannibal Town was asking about Save the Dates so you two decided that while the vow exchange would be short and sweet, the reception would be a fucking party.

NSFW

Sex had not been a part of this man’s life for a very long time.

He’d only been in two brief relationships, once as a teen, and once later to appease his mother, and neither one exactly went well.

Even his rut, which makes most other demons sex-crazed, used to just make him more aggressive and territorial. The physical aspects of it were easy to take care of in private, so he never had to seek out other outlets.

But then you came along and while it still wasn’t as much of a priority for him as it was for you, he still found himself enjoying and even desiring that kind of intimacy with you.

For the first time in . . . well, ever . . . he found himself initiating sex with someone, rather than the other way around, and you found yourself pleasantly satisfied whenever he was in the mood.

Don’t get me wrong, he could still be - and was often - very touch adverse, especially after a difficult day.

But if he’s happy and relaxed and you’re around . . . you two are going to end up under the covers.

He used to hate his tail. He’d even cut it off more than once, but it always grew back. But you liked it and he liked anything that pleased you. And then you started touching it during intercourse and he really liked that.

If the guy has one cum button, it’s you stroking his tail while he’s inside you.

It also really helps that you are so comfortable with your tail and you constantly let him touch it.

He’s definitely a top. Sex is just not interesting to him unless he knows you’re getting off, so it’s either mutual pleasure or your pleasure, but he doesn’t care for anything that involves just his body.

You enjoy going down on him, and it’s okay for him, at least for starters, but he rarely lets you do it for very long. It’s just . . . boring, for him. He’ll compromise and 69 if you’re really in the mood for that kind of thing.

He gets very excited when you’re in heat.

It’s the only thing that can -almost- always override his touch aversion on a bad day.

The idea of you wanting him that much, to the point of it being a near constant physical need for him to be inside you, really gets him going.

He wears out faster than you do, but even after he can’t get it up anymore, he has a multitude of other appendages (fingers, tongue, tentacles) and even some toys that he thoroughly enjoys using on you until you are finally sated.

He’s not one for dirty talk. It makes him uncomfortable, and he finds it distracting. He stays pretty quiet himself during sex, but he loves the needy little moans and whines you make.

He does bite.

And slap your ass.

He’s not usually one for restraints or whips, but he does enjoy marking you with his teeth and claws. Again, this man wanted to own your soul, so he’s going to enjoy leaving physical reminders all over your body that you are his.

His rut is much harder to handle now that he’s sexually active.

And he’s very different in bed when he’s in a rut.

That’s when he dirty talks.

And that’s when he really gets rough.

You have on more than one occasion been face fucked to the point of choking and tears.

And those shadow tentacles really come out to play during that time of year.

They’ll be wrapped around your body, your neck, limbs, etc. They’ll fuck your mouth, your ass, any part of you that his cock isn’t in. He wants you completely controlled and filled up by him when he’s fucking you in his rut.

And he can go for a very long time. Multiple times. You learned after the first year to just plan on taking a vacation that time of year because really, other than eating and sleeping, he pretty much demands that’s all you two do.

He can sometimes lose control of his power and his bodily form during sex.

You’ll know when he’s close to climax because those antlers get massive and his eyes tend to go black. And if he’s in a rut, he can get a little  . . . big.

Like, all of him. His entire body. But also yes, his dick gets larger then, too.

One time, you were just about to say you were getting stretched a little too much down there, and his weight was starting to crush you, when he literally broke the bed. That’s all hot and steamy in romance novels, but you just about broke your tail that night and ended up nearly impaled by the bed frame.

Another time, he got his antlers stuck in the backboard of the bed and that was even more embarrassing for him than breaking the actual bed had been because it took him so long to calm down enough to control the size of those things and meanwhile you had just been pinned beneath him and laughing hysterically at the very horny, very frustrated, very stuck husband of yours.

He’s a self-inflicted insomniac and doesn’t let himself sleep much, so after sex, he tends to pass out next to you and when he finally wakes up, he usually insists you join him in the bath or shower for some aftercare.

He’ll help clean any wounds that haven’t already healed, massage your overworked muscles, and verbally check in with you that he didn’t take things too far. Especially since after a rough rut-induced session, he gets awfully insecure about the things he did to you in the heat of the moment.

Of course, you’re always happy to ensure him that you really enjoy that side of him and you’ve never felt like he’d taken anything too far with you.

(P.S. These are some ideas I worked through on what this ace-spectrum Overlord man would be like in a committed relationship for my new OC wife x Alastor fic. I’ve been working on it for weeks now and am just about ready to start posting. It’s been very difficult writing him truly in character while also navigating meeting my OC, coming to terms with his feelings for her, and how he would behave as a partner/husband. For this post - so that it can be its own standalone work - I’ve changed all the wording to Y/N, with the only specifics being that Y/N is a cat demon. But if you really enjoyed this, I hope you’ll stick around for The Fire in the Sin. It’s going to essentially be all of the above turned into a novel, that’s half prequel and half current events for Hazbin Hotel.)

[floralflytrap]

heyyy, could you do kay/o, cypher, and maybe omen with a crush on the new agent? thank youu ^^

KAY/O, Cypher and Omen with a Crush on the New Agent

Word Count: ???

Hiya anon! Sorry for how late this reply is, but I live to see the light ToT <3 better late than never……..

KAY/O

Robots don’t have crushes… right?

KAY/O genuinely thought that he couldn’t have crushes… until he did

When you first arrived and asked about his opinion on you by Cypher he responded with “They’re attractive” and when asked to elaborate he said “Scientifically speaking”

There was NO science in this romance only pure adoration

You were fascinated with KAY/O when you first joined the protocol and spent a whole day hanging out around him or asking people about him

If anyone suggested you liked him, he was quick to decline

Also dealt with personal conflicts involving his own beliefs. He thought liking you meant that he was unable to do his job

Turns out he’s even more of a robo-killer when faced with the idea that you could die

Anytime you acknowledge his selflessness he responds humbly with a good old “It’s part of my programming”

He’s a liar, Killjoy can back that fact up

But it’s okay cause he’s whipped but in denial about it

No way he’s initiating anything with you romantically, not because he doesn’t like you, because he DOES, but he’s just afraid of the consequences

You guys are totally a power duo and it’s a vibe :) good for you guys!

CYPHER

The detective agency called, they want their job back.

As soon as you walk in this man is DETERMINED to know more about you, but he understands that being a new agent can be overwhelming so he kinda just… observes from a substantial distance

He really doesn’t stalk you, but he seems to perk up and become more vigilant when you walk in the room

At first he just thinks he’s trying to sus out the new agent

Until he talks to Killjoy and she’s just like “be forreal.”

Yeah maybe he does like you a little bit (a lot!)

Cypher talks to Phoenix about how he should scope out your opinion on himself. Phoenix looked amused throughout the whole discussion.

“Looks like someone’s got the hots for the newbie”

Teasing is underway

At some point Jett catches on to Cypher’s little crush too and works with Phoenix to conveniently place you two in situations where you are interacting

The two of you actually start to bond from this method

Missions together are fun, you value his ability to gather information but definitely question him because you HAVE to know if he’s caught onto your deepest, darkest secrets.

You two always have each other’s backs and compliment each other nicely in missions

You guys see the increase in missions where you are paired together as Brimstone gladly valued the teamwork

Cypher doesn’t let his emotions overwhelm him during battle when he sees you getting hurt, but when you get back to base he insists on patching you up

“You’re new, just let me help out, okay?”

He cares for you dearly and that is something very precious, even if his methods of acting on that admiration are a bit… obscure at first, you adore him anyway!

OMEN

Omen is unsure how to act at first when you arrive.

He’s unsure why he is so interested in you and it makes him uncomfortable that he can’t pinpoint why that was

After very obscure and indirect discussions with members of the protocol, particularly Fade and Cypher, the idea of Omen having a crush on you was put into his mind

He avoided you like the plague for a good week after that— not because he didn’t care, but rather that he was scared

Omen didn’t seek you out himself, but rather let you speak to him when you wanted to.

Oh boy did he speak to you!

Any agent who observed you two converse was in awe that Omen was not only going along with it, but seemingly content.

You’d definitely need to be responsible for initiating anything— Omen feels too disconnected from you to reassure himself so he’s left too scared to communicate with you.

After a few months go by though, and after a rough mission that you both were on became a near death trap, Omen finally confessed everything.

You two became an unexpected but extremely cute couple! You brought out a softer side that a lot of agents didn’t expect.

He definitely would knit you a bunch of gifts. Very cute :)

[idkfitememate]

Still tired but just wanted to remind you that the Obey Me Brothers (- Satan + Lilith) were probably the “Seven Heavenly Virtues” before they fell/died and that was probably so hard for them like-

Lucifer going from Humility to Pride

Mammon going from Charity to Greed

Leviathan going from Kindness to Envy

Asmodeus going from Chastity to Lust

Beelzebub going from Temperance to Gluttony

And Belphegor going from Diligence to Sloth

Imagine as Lucifer going through it because now you can’t talk with your brothers, now you hold them to an expectation you would’ve never before - and yourself to an even higher one - and watching them loose themselves to their sins.

Watching Mammon lose himself to monetary values to the point where he’d be willing to sell his own brothers out if it came to it, and knowing that at some point he would’ve sold his everything because he believed it was right. Shit thing is that he still loves his brothers, and under the greed is guilt for hurting them like this.

Watching Levi, once a kind and loving man who would never leave anyone out become a self deprecating and destructive mess who shuts the world out. Who spends his time obsessing over what others have that he can’t and fighting tooth and nail to fix that, even if it hurts him. He, like Lucifer, has to be the best at his chosen craft or else it’s all for naught, but unlike Lucifer he’s very vocal about his losses and how much he hates others who have better than him.

Asmo, who at one point was basically repulsed at the idea of carnal love and wanted to wait, to hold out until he found the one he was searching for. Believe if that saving himself for his future partner was the ultimate act of love. And now watching him fall to depravity, unable to feel love unless it’s carnal in some sense. Everything must be passionate, with little room for true love. Feelings pushed aside for the heat of the moment, giving his body away to feel something. Finding no worth in himself unless it’s his body, and that translating over to how he treats his brothers. They have to suck up his shockingly flirty remarks to them because he can’t help it, that’s how he’s forced to show love now; fast, rushed, and carnal.

Watching Beel, a man who took everything in moderation, never allowing himself more than what he needed in food and drink in favor of helping others, loose himself to the mind numbing pleasure of sitting there and eating and drinking and eating and drinking and eating and drinking with no end in sight. As he can’t help himself but do anything for a meal, much like Mammon. Willing to do damn near anything to fill the hole in his stomach. No matter the cost.

And Belphy. A man once so awake and alert and ready for anything that even Lucifer would have to tell him to take a break. Always raring and ready to go and help any and everyone in need sleep his days away. Too lazy to do basic tasks at some points like eat. Lazing about too tired to do anything, including care for those around him. Too tired to do anything.

And the haunting truth that you, as Lucifer, created Wrath. Satan, your youngest brother in age and fourth in power. Knowing on the daily that he puts on a mask, a front so that his rage doesn’t consume him in an all burning inferno. Knowing that any little thing could set him off, and that’d be it. He shares next to nothing with you and your brothers because, while unspoken, it’s known that he’ll never be as close as the six of you. He didn’t experience the war, he didn’t experience the fall, he didn’t experience her death. Unlike your brothers who have all changed in some distressing way he’s always been rage. Always been Wrath. A true sin through and through. Never will you experience the same things and that keeps you separated.

And about her, to know deep in your heart that she, the Virtue of Patients, would’ve become the Sin of Wrath keeps you up at night, her face of smiles turning to a wrathful frown scares you. Nightmares flash behind your eyes of her being mad, furious even, so you starve the nights off with a never ending pile of paperwork and coffee.

… Did I just accidentally character study?-

[loganhowlettshousewife]

request for a logan x reader where logan comforts the reader after they come home from a mission all bloodied up? i see a lot of reader comforting logan fics but im curious to see how itd be the other way round :)

me? responding to a request like three weeks later? it's more likely than you think. also sorry it's so short. originally it turned into smut but i didn't know if you'd want that given the request was for hurt/comfort. (if you guys want i can publish the alternate smut version of this fic too).

solace

summary: you come home from a mission gone wrong and logan helps you through it.

warnings: death (offscreen), blood, non-sexual intimacy, nudity, reader has hair, pet names (logan canonically calls his love interests "darlin'" and this is me pushing that agenda), english is not my first language so please do not be rude

word count: 1004

you’re splattered in blood and grime, grey ash streaking your skin from the fire created by a little boy lashing out at the world. he had set his own house on fire, his parents dying in the most brutal of ways, burned alive.

“oh princess, c’mere,” logan pulls you into his arms. you’re in too much shock to argue, letting him manoeuvre you like a doll.

you don’t like going on missions, don’t like hurting people. you’re only ever sent on the easy ones, the non-violent ones, where you try to convince mutant kids to join the school. you’re good at talking to children, at getting them to admit their fears to you, at soothing their worries. but even the easy missions don’t always go well.

charles could sense that this particular child was powerful, and far worse than that, he was angry. he’d lashed out when he’d seen you, screamed in anger when his parents expressed a desire for him to go to xavier’s school, to learn to control himself before he came back home again. his parents were frightened too, scared of what might happen if things continued the way they were.

they’d all died in the explosion of his power.

he was so scared. he never meant to hurt anyone, you could see it in his eyes when the fire continued to burn despite him letting go. it was out of control, no longer a part of him that he could control like an extra limb, but something with a mind of its own.

it reminds you of yourself when you’d first discovered your abilities, scared and alienated from the rest of the world, from the non-mutants around you. you see yourself in every kid you save, and in every kid you lose.

you stay in logan’s arms for a long while, the only sound in the room his steady breathing contrasting with your ragged, choked out sobs. his chest rises steadily against yours, a rhythm that you try to imitate but you can’t, and with every failed inhale you feel your frustration grow, your panic increase.

he picks you up easily, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, clutching onto him so as not to fall. he would never drop you, you know that, but it’s always a slight surprise when you’re not expecting him to lift you from the ground.

he leads you to the bathroom where he helps you strip out of your clothes, so gentle with your shaking form. his hands trace each new sliver of skin revealed to him, keeping a firm pressure on you always, grounding you, reminding you of where you are. not in a burning house watching a child’s corpse go pitch black from the flames, but in the house that logan bought the two of you, not too far from the school but enough to give the two of you privacy.

in the shower, the blood rinses off your skin, pink rivulets swirling down the drain. yet you can still feel it, thick and sticky and warm. you want to scrub at your skin until its red and blistering, until you have to grow a new layer of skin, a fresh one that hasn’t been touched by death.

logan doesn’t let you. he catches your hand and whispers, “let me take care of you, darlin’.”

you lean into his bare chest and he massages shampoo into the roots of your hair, over your scalp until it foams, and then rinses it away. he runs your conditioner - the one he always claims is too expensive and why would you spend so much on hair products - through your hair, tugging gently at the strands when he notices you disappearing into your mind.

afterwards he pats you dry, and kisses every inch of your skin, reverent, on his knees before you. and then he rises to his feet and finally presses his lips to yours, soft and intimate, not rushed or heated, just reassurance that he’s here, he’s got you, and he’s not going anywhere.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks eventually.

you shake your head, “he was just a kid.”

“i know,” logan says, rubbing his large, rough hands over your arms, up and down, “but it’s not your fault, you know that. you can’t control what other people do. d’you blame storm for what happened?”

“no!” you exclaim, eyes wide at the implication that one of your best friends could have caused the boys death.

“but she was on the mission with you,” logan comments, and you shake your head, “if you don’t blame her, you can’t blame yourself. neither of you knew, you couldn’t’ve stopped it.”

“maybe,” you say. you don’t really believe it, but logan knows it’ll take you time to get back to your usual happy self, and he’s fine with staying by your side, whispering praise and reassurance until you start to believe him again.

afterwards, he puts on your favourite movie. he spends the whole time making fun of the characters and their decisions, grumbling about how movies will base their entire plot progression on actions no real, rational person would ever do, until you giggle wetly and slap him in the arm, telling him to shut up and let you watch the film.

you lean back into the circle of his arms and he holds you tight, occasionally wiping stray tears that run down your cheeks. there’s less tension in your muscles now, but you’re not quite relaxed, so he shuffles the two of you around until he can massage your shoulders and back.

you moan at the feeling, sinking into the sensation of his large hands working at the knots, until you’re putty for him. you feel warm and fuzzy by the time his hands start to stray down, massaging your thighs.

“feelin’ better?” he asks as the end credits roll, pressing a kiss to your hair.

“yeah,” you sigh, “thank you for taking care of me.”

[aestheticpearl]

— ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’

characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom

themes. SMUT

[warnings] smut, blood, biting, dacryphilia, size kink, corruption kink, light choking, mirror sex, spanking

[gender neutral reader]

ghoulettes

a/n: they’re ghouls, read at your own risk

➳ dewdrop

he def fucks with a PASSION

very accommodating

if you want to go slow, he’ll go slow

if you want it rough, he’ll be rough

he can be whatever you’d like, praise or degradation

‘oh yeah, that’s it baby— fuck you really know how to move, where’d you learn that hm? you fucking the other ghouls?’

POWER BOTTOM

i said what i said

dew loves to watch you ride him

and he loves to hold your hips to guide your movements

it’s definitely his favorite position

he doesn’t mind topping tho

this ghoul will mark you up until your neck is painted in your own blood

he’ll lick it up cause he love how sweet you taste

“such a pretty thing covered in your own blood and my cum, fuck you turn me on.”

you lay breathlessly on top of the ghoul as he pets your head. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, your mind fuzzy and fucked out.

“few more rounds yeah?” dewdrop states moving so he’s now on top of you.

he slips himself back inside you with little effort, using his own cum that’s on you as a lubricant.

you groan into your pillow at the stretch of him. no matter how many times you do it, it still burns in the best way possible.

“that’s it, you’re so good at taking my dick.” he says before leaning over to bite your shoulder.

➳ rain

he doesn’t fuck

he makes love

and he’s so good at it

gives the BEST head

he would stay between your legs for hours if you’d let him

shower sex

y’all are always fuckin in the shower or in some kind of water

oddly enough he’s not a fan of bath sex

the water splashes on the floor and you almost slipped because of it one time

shamelessly loud moans

he breathes heavily after he cums that’s so hot holy fuck

he’ll definitely thank you while cumming

‘thankyouthankyouthankyou— hgnnn i love you so much’

loves to make out with you while he’s inside you

he’s def cried after sex cause it felt so good but don’t tell anyone that

your lips are starting to go numb because of the heavy make out session between the both of you. it almost distracts you from the slow but skilled rolling of his hips into yours. almost.

“you feel so good around me, satan i love you so much.” rain says before moving back into the kiss and pinning you more up against the shower wall.

the water pours down both of your bodies and something about it just absolutely does it for rain.

“you look so amazing like this, soaking wet while i drill my cock into you.” he moans.

➳ swiss

kinky bastard

degradation king

but like his aftercare is amazing so it’s fine

corruption kink

fav position is doggy

loves shoving your face into a pillow while he plows you from behind

also likes to lean down and yank you up so he can hold your neck

has marked you everywhere

needs to let everyone know you’re his

‘you’re mine, don’t forget that’

almost bit a major artery in your leg

ALMOST

there was a lot of blood but it’s okay cause you didn’t die and it only turned him on more

he will try any angle that feels good

he MAKES you flexible

this bitch definitely growls

LOVES to make you watch how he disappears inside you

def has a mirror next to his bed

“look at how good i fuck you.” swiss grips your face and makes you turn to look at yourself in the mirror next to him bed. “look at how well your slutty hole takes me ahh fucking whore for my cock.”

you let out a pathetic whimper that makes swiss chuckle as he pushes your head back into the mattress.

“keep your eyes on me.” he whispers in your ear as he holds the back of your neck. he plants a swift smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it gently to soothe the sting.

“good play thing.”

➳ mountain

he knows his size

he also knows how to use it

OH LORD

he is so gentle tho

a little scared he’ll hurt you

he also can’t degrade you

he tried and HE ended up crying

loves how he towers over your body

can and will man handle you which means he will fuck you everywhere he can

the wall, the bathroom, the practice room

everywhere

loves the thrill of getting caught

‘shhh baby you don’t want us to get caught do you?’

he loves when you’re vocal, since he kinda just grunts and groans

mountain lifts your leg gently for better access and you can’t help but moan loudly before his hand covers your mouth and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“so loud, i’m starting to think you want someone to catch us pretty thing.”

your eyes squeeze shut as your body is hit with another wave of pleasure as you feel mountain’s free hand take yours to guide it down your chest and stop at your abdomen before pressing down.

“i’m right here, you feel that?”

➳ phantom

i love phantom i do but he’s younger and doesn’t have as much as experience as the other ghouls

that being said

he focuses a little too much on himself but

HE WHIMPERS

‘ah fuck’

he loves holding you close to him while thrusting into you

doesn’t pull out all the way, he kind of just jerks into you really fast

lil jackhammer

he learns how to make you feel good from your guidance

likes when you communicate how you feel during sex

he likes seeing you cry but only because it feels good

he doesn’t like hurting you

bites you but not hard enough to draw blood

he likes praising you

very possessive

phantom places gentle kisses over the fresh indent of his teeth on your neck while holding onto you for dear life.

“such a good little thing for me nghh so tight, all mine.”

you’ll admit he was going a little too fast for it to feel good on you end, that was until you adjusted your hips and he started hitting a certain spot that had your legs shaking.

phantom takes notice of this almost immediately.

“i hit your sweet spot didn’t i?”

“p-phantom i need to you slow down and keep that angle.” your eyes are practically rolling back into your head at this point as he listens to your instructions.

“fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

feral i’ve gone feral you guys

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[brainddeadd]

Not You

Reader is Jack Hughes' best friend. Quinn Hughes is in love with her. Years of friendship go by before he finally asks her on a date, but reader is hesitant because of his sleeping around.

Warnings: kinda angsty, kinda fluffy, kiss, Jack being an actual grown up and giving good advice

“They're not you!” Quinn exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"I'm well aware of that!" She shoots back, her heart racing.

“No,” he sighs, his voice dropping an octave. “I've been going out and sleeping around and going on fucking terrible dates with awful people trying to get over you because you don't want me, but they are not you."

"Quinn—"

“I have been trying to get over you for so long but I don't want anyone else. Do you know what it's like to sleep with someone or go on a date and wish with every fiber of your being that it was someone else sitting across from you, under you, touching you? ‘Cause I do.” He laughs bitterly, the sound breaking her heart. “And it fucking sucks, YN. To want the one person you can't have."

She bites her lip, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions crashing over her. “I’m scared, Quinn. I can’t just forget everything. You’ve been with other people.”

“Those people mean nothing to me,” he insists, stepping closer, desperation etched across his face. “Every single time, I’d look at them and imagine you. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

His intensity leaves her breathless, and she struggles to find the right words. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if we end up ruining our friendship?”

Quinn’s eyes soften, vulnerability spilling over as he leans in. “I’d rather risk our friendship than keep pretending I don’t want you. Can’t you see? I’ve been in love with you for years. I don’t want to sleep around. I want to be with you.”

Her heart races, the tension in the air crackling like static. “I just don’t know if I can handle that kind of risk.”

“You won’t know until you try,” he implores, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make it work. I just need you to give me a chance.”

Quinn’s words hang in the air, heavy with possibility. She can feel her walls starting to crumble, but fear still grips her heart. “I… I need time to think.”

“Take all the time you need,” he replies, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Just know that I’m serious about us. I’m not going anywhere.”

As he steps back, the distance between them feels immense, yet the connection remains electrifying. She watches him, torn between fear and longing, realizing that what he offers could change everything.

“Okay,” she finally says, the word feeling both like a promise and a challenge. “I’ll think about it.”

Quinn nods, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “That’s all I ask.”

As she watched him, a whirlwind of emotions churned within her—hope battling with anxiety. She turned her gaze to the ground, trying to gather her thoughts, but the reality of what had just transpired echoed in her mind.

“I just don’t want to get hurt,” she admitted quietly, almost to herself.

Quinn took a step closer again, his expression softening. “I get that. I really do. But I promise you, I’m not like those guys. I won’t treat you like a passing fling.”

“Then why did you sleep with them?” she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you cared so much…”

“Because I thought I could move on,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I thought maybe the feelings would fade, and I could forget. But every time I tried, it just made me realize how much I want you.”

She swallowed hard, the tension between them still palpable. “You’re putting a lot on the line here, Quinn.”

“I’m willing to risk it all for you. I have been for a long time,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering. “I just want you to see that I’m serious about this.”

“Let’s say I do give you a chance. What would that even look like?” she asked, curiosity creeping into her voice.

Quinn smiled softly, the tension easing slightly as he thought about it. “We take it slow. We go out on real dates, not just grabbing food after games. We find out what makes each other laugh, what our favorite things are. We go to the places we love and make new memories together.”

Her heart fluttered at the thought, but doubts still nagged at her mind. “What if we end up ruining our friendship?”

“Then we’ll fix it,” he replied, his tone steady. “I refuse to let anything come between us. You mean too much to me.”

She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “I just need time to process this,” she said, her voice firm yet soft.

“Of course,” he nodded, respect evident in his eyes. “I’ll give you space. But just remember, I’m here, waiting for you to make your choice.”

As he turned to leave, she called out to him, her heart racing. “Quinn?”

He stopped and looked back, his expression hopeful.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said, a small smile breaking through her uncertainty.

He returned her smile, a genuine one that lit up his face. “Always.”

After he walked away, she leaned against the wall, her heart still racing. The conversation replayed in her mind, each word igniting a mix of excitement and fear.

What if they took this leap together? What if it all went wrong? But what if it went right?

The uncertainty felt overwhelming, but deep down, a flicker of hope began to bloom. Maybe it was time to confront her fears, to take a chance on something that could be extraordinary.

With a determined breath, she resolved to think things through. Whatever the outcome, she knew one thing for certain: the bond they shared was worth fighting for.

~~

Later that evening, she found herself sitting in the cozy living room of Jack’s apartment. The faint sound of a hockey game played in the background, but her mind was too consumed to pay attention. Jack was sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen, but he could sense her unease.

“Hey, you good?” he asked, turning to her with a quizzical look.

“Yeah, just… thinking,” she replied, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.

“About Quinn?” Jack’s tone was casual, but she could tell he was paying close attention.

“Maybe,” she said, biting her lip. “He… he confessed that he wants to be more than friends.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin breaking across his face. “Finally! I thought he’d never get his act together.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to mask her anxiety with a laugh. “It’s not that simple. I mean, he’s been with other people, Jack. What if he just thinks he wants me because he can’t find anyone else?”

“Come on, YN,” Jack said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Quinn isn’t like that. He genuinely cares about you. He’s not some random guy who’s going to flake out after a few dates. You know that.”

“I do,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair. “But I’m scared. I don’t want to ruin our friendship. We’ve been through so much together.”

“That’s exactly why you should give him a chance,” Jack urged, leaning forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “You guys have a solid foundation. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll find a way to navigate it. But what if it does work? What if you both figure out that you’re better together?”

She thought about Quinn’s words from earlier, his raw honesty and the way he had poured his heart out to her. “He said he’s tired of sleeping around and just wants me. It’s kind of hard to ignore that.”

“Exactly! It sounds like he’s done playing games. He’s ready for something real,” Jack encouraged, a smile creeping onto his face. “And if he’s willing to put himself out there like that, you should at least consider it.”

“But what if it ends badly?” she asked, her voice small. “What if we break each other’s hearts?”

Jack shrugged. “That’s a risk in any relationship. But look at it this way: you both care about each other deeply. You can’t let fear keep you from exploring something that could be amazing.”

She sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I know you’re right. It’s just… hard to shake off that fear.”

“Just take your time. Think about what you really want. You don’t have to rush into anything,” Jack said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “But don’t ignore your feelings. They’re telling you something for a reason.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She felt a wave of gratitude for Jack, appreciating how he always knew how to guide her through tough situations.

“Quinn’s a good guy. If anyone can handle your heart, it’s him,” he added with a grin.

As the game continued on TV, she found herself lost in thought, weighing Jack’s words. Maybe it was time to confront her fears head-on.

The idea of giving Quinn a chance flickered like a light in her mind, pushing back the shadows of doubt.

“Thanks, Jack,” she said softly, glancing over at her best friend. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” he replied, flashing her a reassuring smile.

~~

After her conversation with Jack, she felt a surge of determination. She needed to talk to Quinn—clear the air and explore what was between them. With a deep breath, she grabbed her jacket and headed out, her heart racing as she made her way to his apartment.

When she arrived, she hesitated for a moment, wondering if she was making the right choice. But she couldn’t ignore the pull she felt toward him, the way his words had lingered in her mind. With one last deep breath, she knocked on the door.

A moment later, Quinn opened it, surprise flickering across his face. “YN! I didn’t expect to see you.”

“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.

“Of course!” he said, stepping aside to let her in. The space was cozy, a mix of sports memorabilia and comfortable furniture. He looked casual in a T-shirt and sweats, but she felt the intensity of his gaze on her.

Once the door closed behind her, she turned to face him, her heart pounding. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Quinn said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you came.”

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I talked to Jack earlier. He… he helped me see things a bit more clearly.”

Quinn’s eyes brightened with hope. “And?”

“I want to give us a chance,” she admitted, the words feeling both exhilarating and terrifying. “But I think we should take it slow. I’m not ready to dive into anything without knowing we can handle it.”

“Slow sounds good to me,” he replied, relief washing over his features. “I want to do this right, to make sure you’re comfortable. We can take as much time as we need.”

“Okay,” she said, her heart fluttering at his response. “Let’s just see where this goes, day by day.”

Quinn stepped closer, closing the distance between them. The air around them seemed to shimmer with anticipation. “I’ve wanted this for so long, YN. I want to explore all of you—the things you love, your dreams, everything.”

She smiled, feeling warmth spread through her. “I want that too.”

As they stood facing each other, the atmosphere shifted, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Quinn’s eyes held a mixture of longing and sincerity, and she felt her heartbeat quicken.

“Can I—” he began, hesitating as if weighing his words carefully. “Can I kiss you?”

The question hung in the air, and she felt a rush of exhilaration. “Yes. Please.”

With that, Quinn closed the space between them, his hands gently cradling her face as he leaned in. Their lips met softly at first, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down her spine. The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.

Quinn’s lips moved against hers, warm and inviting, and she responded instinctively, her hands finding their way to his shoulders. As the kiss deepened, she felt a surge of emotions—relief, desire, and a sense of belonging all mingling together. He tasted of warmth and sweetness, a hint of mint from the gum he had been chewing.

Their breaths mingled, and she felt the urgency building between them as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. The sensation was electric, igniting a fire within her that she hadn’t realized had been smoldering all along.

Quinn’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer, as if trying to meld their bodies together. She wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the moment, savoring the taste of him, the warmth of his body pressed against hers.

Time seemed to stand still, the kiss stretching into something breathtaking, a moment she wished could last forever. She could feel the tension and longing that had built between them finally breaking free, unleashing a torrent of emotions she had kept locked away.

When they finally pulled away, breathless, their foreheads resting against each other, the world around them slowly came back into focus.

“Wow,” Quinn breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes shimmering with awe.

“Wow,” she echoed, her heart racing as she processed the intensity of the kiss.

“I guess taking it slow might be the best decision we ever make,” he said, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“Definitely,” she replied, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest.

As they stood there, the distance between them faded, and she knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful—a new chapter filled with possibilities, each moment waiting to unfold.

[prentissluvr]

my boy only breaks his favorite toys — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst ➖⟢ cw : canon typical violence, injuries, knives, non-sexual partial nudity, guilty sam, rejection, talk of death/dying, sort of a case fic at first, mentions of stitches, lots of feelings, poorly edited & my first(?) attempt at a full angst fic lol (no happy ending!), set in season 5, so some spoilers! ➖⟢ wc : 10.6K ➖⟢ listen to : my boy only breaks his favorite toys by taylor swift. requested ! summary : you get injured and sam realizes he's more scared of getting you hurt than he is of anything else, even losing you and your love.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

to be in love is the strangest experience. to be in love for a long time, for years on end with little to no reciprocation is even stranger.

somehow, you can watch him fall in love with someone else, kiss somebody new, romance another girl, and be blindsided by a fourth. jess you could never be mad at. she seemed too sweet and good for sam, for you to dislike. madison never did anything wrong either, but you did hate how much she unintentionally hurt him. sarah, too, was sweet and brave and helpful and she made him smile. that, of course, didn’t stop you from wanting to be that person instead, but you didn’t feel like you could complain.

ruby, you still feel rightfully angry with sometimes. for sam’s sake, you wanted her help to be real and true, but it felt clear to you from the beginning that not everything was right. now you’re dealing with the apocalypse and sam’s guilt that you alternate between wanting him to let go of and wanting him to feel it just a little bit longer.

besides, jess and madison are dead, so it’s unkind to be too jealous of them, and you’re sure that sam hasn’t spoken to sarah in years. and ruby’s dead too, so she doesn’t pose a threat any longer.

it’s all been so strange, because you’ve seen sam go through it all, kiss them all, love them all in some way or another, and you’re pretty sure all it’s done is make you love him more. at this point, you’re sure that you’ll never love anyone the way that you love sam. unceasingly, ardently, passionately, and for now, quietly.

but after the knowledge of the looming apocalypse has come the strangest part of it all. having loved sam since he was seventeen and secretly doing everything in his power to get away from this all, you know him and each of his mircroexpressions and tones of voice all too well. and these days, sam looks at you in ways that you’ve never noticed before. these days, sam looks at you like he’s trying to figure out if he’s in love with you.

it’s not as if you’d given up hope completely, because no one who’s as in love as you are ever will, but you’ve learned how to live with unrequited love. the pain can be stabbing and all-consuming sometimes, but it’s survivable so long as he doesn’t stop smiling at you or letting you rest in his lap or being the only one to call you a special nickname. even if you’re not the love of his life like he is yours, you’ll always mean something to him as his closest friend.

so now, it catches you off guard when sam looks at you as if he’s considering the possibility that you’re the one who hung the stars up in the sky or talks to you with this gentle joy that’s just somehow different from before. those moments are rare, but incredible to have when you consider the looming apocalypse that sam is blaming himself for. he’s battling the fact that he’s supposed to be the vessel to the devil himself, but he still finds the time to hold your pinky finger for a fleeting moment and not say a word about it. and now, sam does that thing where you say something and it makes him smile, and instead of casually holding your gaze like he used you, his gaze will falter and he’ll tilt his chin down and lick his lips as if he’s suddenly shy around you.

last night, dean was out and you and sam were researching for the case you’re working on. you ended up sitting side by side on your shared bed, trying to get comfy as the hours dragged on and the moon moved higher through the sky. completely unprompted, sam had lifted his arm up and around your shoulders, using his gentle hand to cup the side of your head and bring it to rest on his wide shoulder.

your heart soared and you did your best to keep researching, but the lull of his breathing and the clacking of the keyboard as he typed one handed sang you to sleep right then and there, tucked all cozy into his side.

you waking up in his arms certainly set the tone for today. this case is ugly and there was another victim last night, but sam has this sweet, touchy air about him. as you walk to the crime scene his hand lingers unprofessionally close to the small of your back, and from the tightness to his lips, you’re guessing that he’s holding back from saying something he knows will make you laugh.

you resist the urge to give him a secret smile, soft and loving because you’re selfish enough to try and get him to see that you want him like this. you want him to see that you already love him back, and all he has to do is let himself fall. but you don’t want to overwhelm him, so you go about assessing the crime scene and interviewing the witness like he’s your fbi partner and not the person you love most in this world.

the witness’s statement along with the security camera footage that dean saw at the police station confirms that you’re up against a shapeshifter. much like the first one the three of you hunted together in ‘05 it seems to be disguising itself as a loved one before killing its victims.

“this thing can shapeshift to look like literally anybody, but it can’t come up with something original?” dean jokes.

sam shrugs in his usual sam way. “well, it is an effective method,” sam reasons, despite knowing that dean’s just making fun. sam’s not even looking at dean; his eyes alternate from checking his computer screen where he scouts out city plumbing maps to find the best places in the sewer to look for the shifter, to letting his eyes roam over your features. you wonder if you’ll have to get used to sam staring at you as much as you do him. though, you can’t say that that’s a bad thing by any stretch. maybe he’ll finally notice the way that you look at him and maybe he’ll finally realize that it might be you who he’s been loving this whole time.

sam stands from his spot across from you, grabbing a map of the city from the bedside table. instead of returning to his original spot, he slots himself right next to you to lay the map out on the table. he runs a hand along the length of it, crossing your chest and brushing your nose with the fabric of his flannel before moving his hand back to rest right beside yours on the table top. he leans over the map and you tilt youu head to look up at him as he points out the most likely spots that the shifter could be hiding out at. you only pay half attention as he speaks, more able to take in the sight of his lips moving than the actual words that they’re forming. you’re not uncareful, you just know that sam will make sure you and dean remember the most important things when you get in the car.

—

“are you sure splitting up is a good idea?” sam stresses from the passenger seat of the impala.

“we know how to test for the shifter and we all can take care of ourselves,” dean says, repeating just about the same thing that he said before.

you lean forward in your seat. “we’ll be fine, sam. i agree, it’s not ideal, but there’s a lot of ground to cover and we can’t let the shifter get to anyone else,” you reason.

“i know,” he huffs, still unconvinced due to the possible dangers. but, there’s always danger, and if you’re siding with dean, he knows he doesn’t stand much of a chance of winning the argument anyway.

—

the sewers are dark, damp, and smell like shit. they grow even darker as the sun begins to set above ground and you’re grateful for the bright flashlight that you have on hand. you’ve been tramping through the dark and sewer waste for over an hour and heard nothing helpful from the boys.

you keep your silver knife at the ready, in case you run into anything or anyone. you all agreed that if you see each other, the very first order of business is to test yourself with your own knife to be sure. when you hear footsteps, you immediately press yourself against the wall, doing your best to stay hidden until you can see what’s heading your way. the second you see a person’s frame, you immediately recognize it as sam. he told you that you’d probably run into each other at some point, so you relax a touch. even so, you keep your knife in front of you as you step into the pathway.

“sam?” you call out, stopping a good length away from him.

“hey. yeah, it’s me,” he says, holding out his hand and knife to show you as he slices a thin line across his forearm. you sigh in relief, then quickly repeat the action to confirm to him that you’re you as well.

“you heard from dean?” you ask, closing the space between the two of you. sam meets you halfway, shaking his head.

“nothing,” he sighs, turning back where he came from.

“damn. an hour in the sewers and we’ve got jack,” you frown. “exactly how i like to spend my friday nights.”

“course it is, it’s the perfect date spot,” he jokes back, leading you left, down a new path you assume he skipped on his way over to you.

“mmm, does that mean we’re on a date, winchester?” you flirt. he takes the quip with composure as you step back into a main hallway, wide enough to walk side by side. he waits for you to be next to him before he continues. he didn’t even laugh a little awkwardly at your comment like he normally might. he must be in a flirty mood.

“if that’s what you want,” he flirts back, flashing you his gorgeous grin. the passage is still sort of tight, so his knuckles continually brush against the back of your hand, and the fabric of his jacket rustles against yours.

“being a flirt today, are we?” you tease, maybe pushing the limits a little.

“just for you,” he fires back, and that just about stuns you into silence. he’s in an awfully good mood for someone stuck hunting a killer in the sewers under an unfamiliar city. you nudge him playfully with your elbow, not even sure how to respond with words. so with that, you fall into a comfortable, familiar silence, the only sounds being the echo of your sloshing footsteps through the sewer.

out of boredom, sam teases you with his pinky finger, sticking it out and poking your hand with it. you push back gently, playing along. he escalates the game by poking your side. you giggle a little, swatting at his big hand. 

“stop that!” you whisper-shout. “what if the shapeshifter comes along and we’re too distracted because you’re tickling me?” his proximity, his flirting, and his goddamn smile are already distracting enough. 

“i wasn’t tickling you, just poking,” he teases, but doesn’t do it again since you’re right enough.

“yeah, you said that last week after you did that. it tickles, which means you’re tickling me,” you retort before letting the silence fall over you again.

you head down a narrow path, forcing sam to walk behind you. even then, you can feel his closeness. a minute later, you step out into a wider area where a grate lets in a stream of moonlight. sam comes out after you, stopping by your side. the moonlight casts a glow on his face and, like you always do, you can’t help but think about how pretty he looks, even after a long hour and counting of traipsing around in a sewer. continually, even in the more open space, he stays right by your side, close enough for your elbows to brush.

“think we should call dean?” he suggests, “regroup, maybe call it a night?”

you tilt your head to the side in acknowledgment. “tempting,” you respond, “i’m getting hungry. let’s at least call him, then go from there.” you step further into the space in fron of you, trying to escape the chilly draft coming from the narrow pathway you came in from. but the floor in here is slicker than you realize, and you slip embarrassingly hard, completely losing your footing and letting out a short gasp as you fall.

sam’s instincts are impeccable as always, and a strong arm wraps around your waist before you can fall too far. once you’re steady, sam doesn’t move to pull you all the way up and onto your own feet. he just keeps you dependant on his hold to stay off the slippery floor and brings his other hand to meet the one wrapped around your side. he looks down at you, half of his face illuminated by moonlight, the other half fallen into shadow. you stare right back up at him, flustered but too happy for any sort of such purposeful physical contact with him to care about that.

it feels like a movie with you in his arms like this, willingly stuck there by the both of you. then he leans down closer to you and your eyes widen. in the partial darkness, he looks at you like he’s no longer just wondering if he loves you, more like he knows it for sure. he looks at you with such unabashed love, so overwhelming in a way that you hadn’t expected from him for a long while, if ever. you think that for sure he’s going to kiss you, and you know even better that you’d let him without a second thought.

this certainly isn’t how you imagined it’d be at all. not this soon and not in the middle of a sewer system, surrounded by awful smells and an unpleasant humidity. you suppose that the moonlight filtering down is nice enough, and that you’d never expected anything grandiose or overly romantic with him anyway.

then you hear footsteps, and a split second later, your name being called in sam’s voice. only it wasn’t the sam holding you who said it, it was someone behind you. it only takes a millisecond for everything to click. this sam, the one holding you close, cut himself with a knife you recognized. that’s why you didn’t bat an eye, but you failed to remember that that particular knife of sam’s isn’t made of silver, just a weaker and ineffective metal alloy.

before you can process it, that exact knife is being plunged into your gut. you let out a strangled cry of pain.

sam, the real sam, shouts your name again and you think you hear his running footsteps until he stops dead in his tracks when the shifter yanks the knife from your stomach and puts it to your throat. you cry out again, choking a little on your own breath as you stretch your neck, trying to see your sam. 

but the shifter presses the knife down, drawing a line of blood on your neck and growls, “look at me. you’re going to watch your precious little sammy as he slices your throat.”

you can imagine sam putting his hands in the air, mouth open and ready to talk the shifter out of it when you hear two loud gunshots, and you’re dropped to the floor, too shaken up to break your own fall. your head hits the ground hard, and the next thing you can register is sam again. you get his voice and his hands, one sliding under your neck to cup the back of your head and the other pressing hard against your wound. he winces when you grunt in pain at that, but keeps his hand in place.

“hey, hey. stay with me. look at me, c’mon.” his words are followed by your name, said in a sweet and desperate sort of way. you’re still dazed, but your head begins to clear up a bit. above you, sam’s face is pinched in worry, so much more worry than you’d expect him to express because of something as easily fixed as a measly stab wound.

it’s not completely inconsequential and it’s bleeding a whole lot more than you’d like, but you’ve dealt with this sort of thing and worse before. sam will stitch you up and you’ll be as good as new in a few days. even better, cas might come around soon and he’ll fix it right up for you.

“‘m fine, sam,” you grumble as dean drops down by your other side.

“shifter’s dead. we should go,” he says, more to sam than you since he’s clearly the most worried out of you all. dean places his hands on your arm, ready to help you up, but sam just pulls you into his arms and up against his chest. he stands and you wince from the pain of the movement, but relax a little seconds later. you expected to limp out of this nasty place, one arm slung around each of the boys as they do the heavy lifting but keep you on your feet. it seems sam won’t risk even that; he needs you closer, more protected, and in less pain.

dean leads the way to an exit, climbing up the ladder first and opening the heavy grate. only when you urge him to does sam let you down. he knows that he can’t carry you up, but he sure would have liked to. instead, he has to settle for lifting you as best as he can, his strong hands never straying from you until they’re on your ankles and dean’s got you, pulling you up the rest of the way and letting you lean on him until sam reappears.

the fresh air is amazing to breathe in and to feel on your skin, but what you’d most like is to be laying in bed after a long, hot shower. and to not be in quite as much pain. you sigh into dean’s jacket, and just a second later he’s shifting you back into sam’s waiting arms. he doesn’t sweep you up this time, but he keeps you steady while dean jogs off to get the impala and bring it to you. with strong hands, sam eases you to the curb on the side of the road and wraps his arms around you, keeping a wide palm pressed against your wound to staunch the bleeding.

as you wait, sam is silent, and not in the soft and comfortable way he often is around you. you’re sure that he’s got a million things to say, not all of them 100% fair to you and all of them completely worried.

and there’s just so much to say that he can’t choose, and he thinks that, for your sake, he should hold back. sam knows he can get a little too angry sometimes, and you’re bleeding badly with your face smushed unattractively against his shoulder and he knows that this isn’t the time. he shouldn’t yet interrogate you about what happened or tell you aloud that he’s overly worried about you because suddenly he’s feeling things for you that he didn’t realize he was feeling before.

you let him brood in silence, and though this is just about the closest physically that you’ve been with him today, he feels sort of distant and unreachable. it pains you.

when dean arrives, sam loads you into the car, piling into the back seat after you to give you a shoulder to lean on. you can feel dean’s eyes on you as he glances back through the rearview mirror, and you’re sure that he too wants to ask what happened, how the shifter managed to trick you despite the rules you’d set.

“dean, we should head to the hospital,” sam says, his voice cutting into the tense silence of the car. you shake your head weakly.

“no, sam. i’m fine, seriously.”

“no,” he counters, “you’re bleeding a lot. we’re going to the hospital to get you some real stitches.

“your stitches work just fine,” you argue, your words half lost in the fabric of his coat.

“and what if you need more than just stitches? we can’t risk that,” he presses, and you know he’s not going to give up.

“sammy’s right,” dean piles on, and you sigh, then wince in pain. you don’t even grumble out an annoyed, “fine,” and instead just like the silence take over again as a begrudging relentment.

When all the doctors do is give you a few stitches and an iv and let you out just an hour later, you resist the urge to say “i told you so.” but really, you’re glad for the professional help, knowing that, though you still feel like shit, you’re far better off than you would’ve been if you’d gone straight back to the motel. the car ride is quiet, but you know that you’re due for a bit of an interrogation when you get back.

tonight, dean starts it, because sam is practically brooding in the corner.

“so, you gonna let us in on what the hell you were thinking back there?” he asks, sounding ready to just about throw his hands up in the air. “did you really not follow the single rule we set? it almost got you killed.”

“i know, and i did,” you sigh, “but it tricked me. it had one of sam’s knives and it cut itself and i wasn’t paying enough attention to realize it wasn’t one of sam’s silver knives. it was a damn good actor too,” you explain. dean clenches his jaw, probably looking for some other point to make. these winchesters never know when to stop arguing. “we’ve all been tricked by shifters before. it happens, i messed up, you saved my ass. that’s all.”

you guess dean’s not in as much of a fighting mood as you thought, because he just shrugs. “you’re damn right about the ass saving part.”

you crack a wry smile, “guess it’s my turn to save your ass then.”

“only thing i need saving from now is that sewer stench. so i will call first dibs on the shower.” he leaves no room for argument on that front as he disappears into the bathroom. only then do you glance at sam, wondering if he’ll say something. his expression has got so many emotions swirling around that it’s almost unreadable. but you’re you, and you know him and love him in a way that nobody else does, so you can decipher it all pretty well. there’s anger, like always, probably targeted at the shifter and a bit misplaced in you for getting yourself hurt. then there’s guilt, because, in classic sam fashion, he likely thinks that it’s his fault.

you’d put the pieces together a bit ago in the hospital. the red marks above sam’s eyebrow and around his wrists and the shifter having sam’s knife and appearance tells you that the shifter got the jump on sam. it probably hit him over the head, tied him up, and stole his knife after stealing his appearance and accessing his memories. and though you can know that it’s clearly not sam’s fault the shifter got to you, he’ll still think so.

he’s thinking that because the shifter got the drop on him, you got hurt. he’s thinking about how trusting you were because it looked like him, about the position he found you in, and though he couldn’t see it, he knows the look you were giving his lookalike. he’s sure that it was that syrup-sweet, honey-dripping-from-your-eyes look that he’s been all too aware of and all too fond of these days. and because of that, it must be his fault.

on top of that, he feels like he was the one to do it. you got hurt by something with his face. you were almost killed and the last thing you would have seen would have been a cold, dark smirk on his face as he killed you. that thought pained him more than anything he could express.

you, of course, don’t yet understand the full depth of his guilt, but it bothers you anyways. you wish that sam could stop blaming himself for everything bad that’s ever happened when all he’s ever done is try to be good. while in the midst of wondering if you should speak first, interrupt his self-destructive thoughts and tell him it’s not his fault, he beats you to it.

“you should’ve been more careful.” his voice is unexpectedly hard and cold, devoid of his usual guilt and gentleness. tonight, he’s more focused on his anger. and of course, you know it’s because of that guilt that he lashes out, but it hurts nonetheless. even so, you want to soften him and get him to open up, so you apply the opposite tactic as him.

when you speak, you let your voice be full of emotion, of sincerity and gentleness and understanding. “i know, sam. i’ll pay more attention next time, i promise. but i’m okay.”

this catches him off guard a bit. normally, when he targets misplaced anger at you, you fire back and tell him how stupid it is that he’s trying to blame you. he already knows it’s stupid, and your soft eyes make him even more guilty. it’s not as if he’s being just as silly this time, but your approach works, a little.

sam does soften a bit; you can see the slight change in the way that he holds his shoulders, but it’s not enough to get him to admit that he’s just worried and blaming himself. all you get is pursed lips and a tight brow. he just can’t get over the image of himself plunging a knife into you, can’t get over your cry of pain or the feel of your hot and sticky blood seeping through the cracks of his fingers.

sam’s realizing that, for all the countless times you’ve come close to death, this is the first time since he’s started to think that he’s most likely in love with you. and that, more than anything else in the world, not the literal devil or the apocalypse or whatever, is the scariest thing that sam’s had to realize and endure in a long time.

now, sam can’t run from being lucifer’s vessel. even if he never gives in, he has to confront it and fix it somehow. he certainly can’t run from the apocalypse, or the world will end. he can’t have that, not when the world is you. it’s his responsibility. sam can’t run from those things, but he sure as hell can run from the way he feels about you. and he’d do that because he can’t afford to be in love with you. you can’t afford for him to be in love with you or for you to be in love with him because it seems like that’s already gotten you stabbed by a hand that looks just like his own. and all that’s happened between the two of you is playful flirting, sidelong glances, and shared smiles, so he can’t imagine what might happen if things go an inch further than they already have.

he got jess killed, he hurt you bad with ruby, and though sarah’s still alive as far as he knows, he attributes that to the fact that she’s far, far away from him. not to mention the people he loved like family who are dead because of him too. that’s another horrifying thought because even if sam didn’t love you the way that he does, he’d surely still love you some other way.

so, sam’s going to run, sam’s not going to let you any closer, sam is going to keep you at an arm’s length. he’ll stop looking at you like he wants you, he’ll stop hovering so near, he’ll quit his goal of making you smile or laugh at least three times a day, and he’ll do everything he can to make sure you don’t love him too much. he can’t let you tell him you love him, he can’t let you confess because he’ll be too far gone if he hears that come out of your mouth. he’s gonna run because he’s decided with horror and glory all at once that yes, he does love you, and that’s the worst thing he could do to you other than slit your throat with his own two shaking hands.

from where you sit, just feet apart, you can see sam grow more and more distant by the second. you can’t figure out what’s going through his head, but you’re sure you wouldn’t like it if you heard him say it aloud. you open your mouth to say something to him, get him to say something back, but you can’t find the words. anything you come up with gets stuck in the back of your throat before you can even make a sound.

sam looks at you, just for a fleeting moment that’s too fast and slippery for you to grab hold of it. his eyes hold regret, like he’s done something that he can’t take back, and he doesn’t like what he’ll have to do next in order to keep the consequences at bay.

then his eyes are gone from yours, along with that strange look, and you’re suddenly at a loss of how to reach out to him. it hurts because you know that what it will really take is time and patience, maybe more than he deserves.

you barely notice the time passing, but you watch sam take dean’s place in the bathroom and you can feel dean’s eyes on your back. you’re sure he can feel the shift in the air. when sam returns from the shower, you realize just how badly you want to get clean. you walk to the bathroom and feel a little lucky when you find a small plastic tub to fill with soapy water. you can’t take a real shower for the sake of keeping your stitches dry, but you’ll be damned if you can’t get that sewer stench off of yourself. when you bend to place the tub at the bottom of the bathtub, you grunt audibly in pain due to the movement. you sort of expect sam to come running to help like he always does, already surprised that he didn’t offer from the start when you told the boys you were going to wash up.

apparently, dean had expected the same; while he’s more than happy to be the one to help you, sam almost always beats him to that sort of thing before he can even try. you glance through the open door and see dean looking from you to sam, back to you before he stands from his bed in a rush.

“hey, hey, whatcha doin’ all that by yourself for? can’t have you busting any stitches, we paid for those,” he jokes, already in the bathroom with you by the time he’s finishes talking.

“pfft, yeah with stolen credit cards,” you retort, without actually resisting his aid. he takes your place by the faucet, nudging the bucket under it and turning on the hot water. you’re lucky that the shower doubles as a small bath, meaning you can easily sit in it alongside the bucket and just wipe yourself down without getting the floor wet.

you sit on the closed toilet seat as dean fills up the bucket, adds some soap, and mixes it around a little.

“want me to help you in?” he offers.

“mm, are you trying to see me naked?” you poke fun.

“and if i said yes?” he jokes back.

“then you’d never see the light of day again,” you threaten, already moving to slide off your jeans, with a bit of a struggle. dean’s strong hand immediately finds your elbow, holding you steady. you’re not worried about either brother seeing you in just your underwear. with the life you live, stuck in motels, or getting hurt in less than ideal spots, they’ve seen you that way plenty. and while dean can’t hold back from a lewd comment or two, he completely respects you and views you like another sibling. he helps you with your shirt too, as lifting your arms up proves even more painful than you’d thought.

dean kindly sets a folded towel down on the bottom of the shower bed for you to sit more comfortably, then helps you ease in. then he’s grabbing two clean wash rags, dunking one in the water and handing the other to you.

“try and keep those stitches as dry as you can,” he instructs, and you oblige by placing the dry rag over your covered wound. “we’ll change the bandages when you’re done.”

“mhmm,” you nod, “thank you, dean.”

“‘course, kid. you want me to get your back? or i can send sammy in to help instead,” he offers, saying that last part loud enough for sam to hear. you glance out the open bathroom door only to catch sight of sam’s back as he heads for the outside door. he moves out of your line of sight, but you can hear the door being open and shut behind him. you sigh in disappointment and a bit of hurt. dean curses lightly under his breath and you suddenly feel awkward and ashamed for no practical reason. but dean knows that sam isn’t being as good to you as he should, so he’s being extra nice instead.

“if you– if you could do it that would be nice. thanks,” you frown, then try to fix it with a strained smile. when dean is done, he hands the damp cloth to you, and you thank him again quietly.

“just holler if you need anything else,” he reminds you before walking out, leaving the door open by just a sliver.

you carefully wipe down the rest of your body, relishing in the heat of the water and the feeling of being just a little cleaner. you’re slow about it, letting yourself savor the alone time and telling yourself that you won’t worry about the events of the day until tomorrow. during the time that you clean yourself, you hear the outside door open and close twice more, and you assume sam’s come back and left again. by the time you’re done with the soapy water, it’s gone lukewarm, but you’re successfully feeling much more relaxed.

“dean!” you call out, hoping he’ll come and change the water for you so that you can get rid of any extra soap suds still lingering on your skin. there’s no reply for a long moment. “dean?” you call again. “can you help me again?”

without a word in response, you hear footsteps, then the creak of the bathroom door. instead of dean, you find sam poking his head into the room.

he clears his throat awkwardly. “dean left to get some more food. i can, uh– i can help.”

“oh, okay,” you smile at him a little, then feel sort of pathetic because of the hope that rises in your chest. you force your voice into nuetrality. “thanks, sam. i, uh, i just need to dump this out and get some new water. it’s just sort of heavy.”

“right, yeah. of course.” sam enters the room fully, filling up the small space with his tall, broad frame. when he gets close, you extend a hand, silently asking him to help you stand first, despite the fact that you could do it yourself with the help of the wall. but sam can’t very well deny you, so he obliges by grabbing your hand and placing the other around your bicep to hoist you up. his strong hands and arms pull you up easily, and help you back onto the tile floor. you feel the tickle of a rivulet of water run down your right leg, then a few more on your left. sam dutifully pulls the towel you were sitting on out and hands it to you before he dumps out the soapy water and turns on the faucet, checking the temperature before letting it splash into the bucket

you stand there in silence, watching him work, watching him keep his eyes averted from your almost naked form, watching him struggle with being so close to you.

“there,” he says simply when he’s done, grabbing the towel from you and placing it back on the bottom of the tub. once he’s eased you back down to sitting in the shower, he straightens and takes a step backwards towards the door. but he can’t just leave, not like that. “is there anything else you need?”

you think you’re allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, so you say yes. “uh, yeah. could you, uhm, could you just wipe down my back? i can’t tell if there’s still soap on it.” sam almost tells you that there isn’t and just walks away, but he caves to you and the look in your eyes.

he looks like he’s not sure if he wants to stiffen and close himself off and do it in silence, or soften and open himself up to being gentle with you. it seems he’s unable to treat you too coldly, no matter what sort of fear or silent commitments to staying clear of you he’s made.

“‘f course,” he agrees after a moment, getting down on his knees, pressed right up against the wall of the bathtub as he takes the wet rag from you and dips into the newly hot water. he keeps his eyes trained on the skin of your back, and you keep yours to the plain white surface of the tile wall in front of you. his hand is as gentle, warm, and encompassing as you know it to be. of course, he’s trying not to touch you directly, keeping most of his hand covered by up the cloth. but the motel rag isn’t a generous size, and his hands are, so the base of his palm or the pads of his fingertips keep brushing against your cool skin. he’s hot in comparison to you, as per usual.

the task doesn’t have to take long at all, but sam must be having trouble parting from you now that he’s back and so, so close. so, he takes the rag across the whole expanse of your back more than once, applying a gentle pressure that soothes and relaxes your still tense muscles. only once he’s heard a sigh of satisfaction leave your lips does he bring his hand away from you.

there’s a few more moments of quiet, only punctuated by the sounds of lightly sloshing water as he dips the rag back into the water, then squeezes it out so that it’s not too soaked for your next use. he hands it to you and asks, “anything else?” without getting up or even glancing at the door like he wants to escape. he lets himself look at your face for a moment, before tearing his gaze away once more.

you shake your head lightly. “that’s all. thanks.”

“mhmm,” he nods, “tell me if you need me.” that’s not how he meant to say things, but it’s how it came out anyways. and oh how you wish to tell him, i need you. he wants to hear you say it too, until he remembers himself and the fact that he’d cave if he did. and he can’t cave, not ever, not even if you told him that you need him. these days he feels like he needs you.

“okay.” you wait for him to leave before you put your attention back on yourself. when he closes the door behind himself, you heave out a deep sigh, then yawn, suddenly hit with a wave of bone-deep exhaustion. you make quick work of wiping off the rest of your body and brace yourself on the wall to stand. you’re not sure you can bear being stuck with sam in such close proximity again tonight, so you dress yourself with just a bit of trouble and leave the tub of water alone for one of the boys to take care of tomorrow.

when you leave the bathroom, dean’s still gone and sam’s laying on his bed. you almost tear up at the sight of him, tucked tightly into one half of the space and his back so purposefully facing your side of the bed. upset with this small cruelty, you climb into dean’s bed instead and fall asleep on your back before you can even change your bandages.

—

last night you caught sam reaching for your hand. he was motioning with the hand further from you, distracted as he complained about something dean said earlier. you glanced down for no particular reason and a movement caught your eye. his unoccupied hand had drifted closer to you, reaching out seemingly on instinct, as if walking next to you should mean holding hands with you. quickly, you looked away, and you never felt his hand even brush past yours. but you heard the rustle of his jacket as he moved, the pause in his words, and the shift in tone when he finally continued to speak. you don’t think he knows that you noticed.

and the day before that, he gave you this dazzling smile and didn’t even think twice about it. sometimes he’ll smile at you wide, and the pretty look on his face will be ripped away as if he’s had some horrible realization that smiling at you is somehow a sin. but this last time, the smile faded naturally, untouched by the overbearing hesitancy he seems to have kept clutched in his hands for the past few weeks since that night with the shapeshifter.

there’s this constant push and pull coming from him that you can’t quite wrap your head or heart around. many days, he’s distant and that’s it. all you get is talk of cases or how to stop the goddamn apolcalypse. other days he’s able to be decently normal; he’ll joke and chat a little and you’ll get a glimpse of your sam. and some days he just can’t stay away, like there’s this tug pulling him to you that’s too strong to resist. it calls his hand towards yours, his eyes all over your face, and his body to stand right by you. those days he can’t cover up any sort of longing gaze and he’s stuck staring right at you and missing you more than he ever imagined he’d have to.

you suppose you prefer the in between days, because they’re the closest to the sam that you’ve had by your side for so long. they’re closest to the sam that’s your best friend, the sam who didn’t know he loved you yet. those are the days you can most easily pretend that something isn’t wildly off about you and him, because dealing with unrequited love has sort of become your norm. and while the days he can’t hide that he feels more for you are a desirable confirmation that there’s some part of him that can’t resist you, they’re also a painful reminder that it’s not quite enough to keep him from distancing himself.

and lord, it just hurts so much when one of those sweet days turns sour. you’ll feel at ease, hopeful and glad for the day's luck, when suddenly the good day has turned too good or one of you has laughed too sweet and loud because of the other. at that, sam will instantly pull away as if it’s dangerous to be happy together. you can see his eyes change from content because of you to tortured because of you and all you want to do is take him by the shoulders and shake him hard. then mostly likely kiss him hard too, if you can get him to come to his senses.

of course, there’s that never ending love. you really don’t think you could stop loving him if you tried with all of your might. but there’s certainly anger. each day that passes by, you become angrier and angrier with him, so frustrated with him and his stupid decisions. with too much time to think about him and his odd behavior, you feel nearly sure that he’s just plain old afraid. of losing you or hurting you or some other classic, stupid reason and frankly, it’s completely unromantic. it’s making you feel like you’re losing your mind.

so when sam takes today, a half-normal day where you don’t feel the weight of his hesitance bearing down on you, and he snatches that away with a simple, closed-off expression, you feel far too fed up to just let it go.

dean’s off at some bar and though his support in your argument might help—because you’re almost positive that dean is on your side and is getting nearly as frustrated as you—you need to confront sam alone first.

you let silence reign in the motel room until sam’s done showering and about to settle into doing a bit of extra research before heading to bed.

“sam,” you start, already cursing to yourself when he looks at you without any of his usual eagerness to hear you talk. you’re sure he can already tell that you’re displeased from the way you said his name. “we have to talk.” 

his jaw clenches and he glances down at the closed laptop in front of him. he contemplates how to answer for a moment. “i should really check for any signs of lucifer. we haven’t gotten anything new in weeks, we’re bound to catch wind of something soon.”

your anger flares, but you tamp it down in favor of keeping this conversation as civil as possible. an angry you plus an angry sam never ends well, and you’re determined to make yourself heard before either of you walk away in frustration.

“no, sam. don’t ignore me. i know that you checked during lunch today, so it can wait until tomorrow,” you counter.

“this is important, you know that.” his voice is so flat and emotionless and stubborn and so unlike him that it hurts.

“it is,” you agree, “but you already checked today, so i’m asking you not to make excuses and listen to me, sam. it’s not that hard.” you bite your tongue, almost wishing you hadn’t made that last biting comment because you know it’ll just antagonize him. but you also know that your anger is warranted.

you can see sam realizing he can’t get out of this conversation in the way that he purses his lips in frustration.

“i– y’know, i’ve really tried to give you time.” you don’t wait for him to really look at you to start. “we all need time sometimes, but it’s not fixing anything. you’re not… you’re not trying to fix anything, it feels like.”

he won’t even look at you when he talks. “what do you want me to fix?”

“the way you’re treating me!” you say, indignant and raising your voice a little, unable to hold back. “you– i don’t know, you’re acting so strange! like– like one second you’re normal. normal sam, my best friend sam. and then you act like you don’t want me around. like you’d rather be stuck in the car and motel rooms with anyone else in the world but me.” only once you start talking do you realize just how much you have to say. it’s not just stop acting this way, or let’s talk about it, it’s so much more. so much that you need him to hear and to understand.

your voice quiets again. “you know, once, you told me that i was a god-send. that, that you can put up with all this shit because we get to do it together. it’s always been you and me! of course, it’s always been you and dean, but sam! we’re best friends,” you say it more like a plea than a statement. “you used to say that. then it got to the point where it felt like we didn’t even have to say anything at all. we just were. it used to feel like you’d do anything for me, just like i’d do for you. i never even questioned that, not once until ruby came along. even then, i knew it wasn’t you. not an excuse, but i knew, once she was gone, you’d figure it out again. just like always. we always figure it out. so why, why for the love of god are you not even trying?” your own words hit you like a wall of bricks. when things happen, when things go wrong, or you don’t understand something, you’ve always figured it out together. what you’re supposed to do is voice your concerns to the other and usually without saying the words, ask for help. this time, sam won’t share the burden with you, won’t attempt to figure it out with you even when it so clearly involves you.

sam opens his mouth to speak, and at least he’s looking at you now, but you won’t let him say a word yet. he’ll shut you down, and you can’t have that.

“why do i suddenly feel so stuck? i feel like there’s nothing i can do, like you’re slipping away, right through my fingertips! and that’s just the strangest feeling when, for the longest time, i was convinced that you’d be the one constant in my life. i really, really thought that way, sam. and i get that i’m biased and blinded by my own feelings, i just never imagined that you’d do anything like this, pull away so suddenly and quickly and adamantly like it’s your life’s mission to put a bulletproof wall in between us. so, i guess at the very least, i’d like a bit of an explanation as to why you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

your question hangs in the air, heavier and more smothering than a water-soaked wool blanket. you suppose you could keep talking; you’re not anywhere near out of things to say, but you need him to respond. he’s the one letting the silence take over, not you. he takes a deep breath, like he’s known he’d have to explain eventually, but would never be the one to willingly bring it up.

he answers plainly, almost honest. “it’s safer this way. it’s dangerous for you to be close to me.” you want to scream because you were right. you would’ve loved to have been wrong, for him to have magically had some good reason for all this. but in the end, it has come down to the evils of the world pressing down on a good man and that good man caving to believe what the evils tell him he is. you want to scream because sam is wrong. being close to him feels like saving grace. 

he’s not cursed, he’s not the cause of all the pain and death that rains down on the people he loves. and what about him? what about all the pain and death that rains upon him? where does he get reprieve, an apology for being singled out and tossed through all of these horrors by unexplainable forces? why can’t he blame god? why can’t he see that it’s not his fault?

“that’s not true,” you beg, “and it’s not an excuse to treat me like shit.” he looks away, a physical manifestation of the fact that he doesn’t want to admit that you’re right about at least that.

“i’m not trying to… to hurt you.” sam face just falls. he looks devastated. he wasn’t trying to hurt you, in fact, he was trying to do just the opposite, but it happened anyway. “see?” he pleads, desperate for you to understand, “no matter what i do, being around me is hurting you. i can’t keep putting people through that.”

“so what? you’re gonna pretend to hate dean too?” you counter.

sam looks hurt. “i wasn’t pretending to hate you. i’d never even pretend to feel that way about you, i–” he stops himself before he can say the words and clears his throat, not trying to be subtle when he changes the subject. “dean’s different. he’s involved in all this shit too. he doesn’t have a choice but to be around me, but you? you could be safe somewhere else.”

“and you think i want that? you think i’d make the choice to leave you, just to be a little safer?” you want to keep going, but he interrupts you.

“no, that’s exactly it. you’d never leave us, and i know that. but if– if we stay at a distance, you might be safer.” he’s doing everything he can not to make it sound like he wants you to go. he just can’t explain that the issue is that he loves you, that he thinks the solution is to stop loving each other.

“that’s bullshit,” you shake your head. “sam, i know that you think you’re cursed or some shit like that, but it’s not true. none of this is your fault.”

“how? how is it not my fault? the people i love die because of me, and no other reason. how is that not my fault?” he argues, desperately believing himself.

“because you’re not the one who killed them! you didn’t make that choice. those things happened to you too, sam. how much grief and loss have you had to go through because of things you couldn’t control? it was never your fault, sam.”

“and yet, if they weren’t around me, they never would have died. it doesn’t matter what choices i made, it was the simple act of being close to me that’s gotten so many people killed. and i can’t lose you, too. i just can’t and it’s just too possible that it’ll be because of me. i can’t live with that. i can’t let you get hurt.” this is the most raw his voice has been in weeks, months maybe even. you can see just how completely, irrationally terrified he is that he’ll get you killed and you’re starting to think that he’s too far gone for you to reel back to reality, to hope and perseverance and closeness. but you can’t seem to give up, still full of things to say.

“that’s not how this works!” you refute. “this is my life, it’s your life, our life. and whether or not i’m around you or close to you, i’ll still get hurt! it’s not like i’m just going to quit hunting so you don’t have to worry. so sam, you could hurt me on purpose; pull away, refuse me when you have to know damn well how i feel about you. it’s not like i’ve ever really been that subtle, you were just never looking for it until now. or– or you could do your best and if i get hurt, it's an accident, right?” you practically beg for him to agree, for him to see that treating you this way is so much worse than anything else that could happen to you because of him.

he curses under his breath. you’re getting so close to saying the sort of words that will make his resolve snap, one way or another. he says nothing and you’re still waiting for him to understand you. so, you hit him with something even more solid and irrevocable than your logic: your love.

“you can’t seriously think that i’m going to just let things go on like this, can you? is this really your plan? to pretend we don’t care about each other? to throw over a decade of friendship out the window because you think somehow it’ll keep me safe?” you make sure that he’s looking you straight in the eyes as you continue, voice thick with emotion, “sam, there’s nothing, nothing that could keep me from loving you. i’ve loved you since you were seventeen, at least. i was watching you study, realizing that you really were gonna go to college. damn, i was so happy for you and i was ready to do anything to help you get there. then i started thinking about how much i was gonna miss you. wondering if maybe i could get away too. if we could get away together. the next week my dad dragged me away on another hunt and i didn’t see you for a year. we saw each other nearly right before you left and i considered asking if i could run away with you. but i didn’t want you to have to drag any remnants of the life with you, and i was exactly that. i wouldn’t have been able to make it anyway.

“and you know, the saying that absence makes the heart go fonder, it’s not psychologically true. the more time you spend with someone, the more you get to love them. but i really felt like it was sort of true because i missed you so bad that it made me love you all the more. i tried to talk dean out of asking you to come back to look for your dad, but when i saw you again i gave up on that. i didn’t care that you had had jess or that you liked madison or sarah, and sure, ruby hurt a little more than them, but no matter what, i just liked being close to you. when i saw you again, i swore i couldn’t look away. and i was content loving you through looks and longing and letting you be. 

“but sam,” your voice cracks as you say his name and you try to swallow your tears, “this is just cruel. there’s not even anyone else, but you feel so much farther than you’ve ever been. you’d really refuse me after you dare to give me hope that you might actually love me back? i spend far too much time looking at you to miss the way you look at me. and i love listening to your voice so much that i could never miss the way your voice has changed when you talk to me as of late. you gave me hope for just a few weeks, and now you’re asking me to– to what?” you shake your head, not even sure what he’s trying to change or fix and how.

“you want me to let you go? and what, that’s it? do you want me to stick around but pretend i don’t love you? or– or do you want me to just stop loving you and you think that’ll somehow fix things? because that sure as hell isn’t possible,” you look at him so carefully, so deeply as you search for an answer in his eyes. “or do you just want me to go?”

you didn’t mean that question, but sam truly considers it. at first you desperately wish that you could take it back. you don’t want to go, you don’t think you can be apart from him like that.

but he goes and does the worst thing that he could and he tells you, “yes. you should go.” he can’t even look you in the eye when he says it and you know that you with certainty that you can’t stay. you can’t do that to yourself, to your pride, to your peace of mind. because with those four words he’s told you that he loves you, but not enough to try.

or too much, perhaps. he loves you too much to try, because it’s him who will really be worse off if something he does gets you killed. sure, you’d be dead, but sam… sam would be alive and stuck with far too much guilt and loneliness and loss and greif to deal with. but if you go, then sam can’t be responsible for you. he can’t curse you with his love that way, so sam may want you closer to him than he’s ever wanted anybody, but he wants even more for you to go.

you want to say something awful back. i hate you crosses your mind, but it’s so far from the truth that you couldn’t even say it out loud. if you did, it would still mean i love you.

you’re horrible, sam, is the next thing that falls into your mouth, but you clamp your jaw shut before those words can fall out. you don’t swallow though, you let the words sit on your tongue and you taste them and consider them. because in a way, they’re true. sam’s being horrible to you. but you’re naive, and, oh right, hopelessly in love with him, which means you want to spare him. it means that you don’t want to convince him further that he can never be good enough for you, because he is. he is when he isn’t being like this, and if he can figure it out, maybe he’ll beg on bended knee for you to come back, say he’ll do anything to make it up to you, tell you he still loves you so much and he can’t be apart from you if you’ll let him come close again.

but you’re so fucking angry at him. you’re almost blinded with love, but not quite because you already know that those hopes of yours are ridiculous moments after you think of them. he’s burned any possibility of you and him to the ground. you know this and you know that he knows it too. you hope it haunts him forever and you don’t care if that’s cruel.

“go ahead, sam,” you laugh humorlessly, bitterly. the sound makes him look up from the guilty hole he’s burning into the table top with his eyes. “add me to your list of ghosts before i’m even dead, and know, without a doubt, that this time it really was you who did it. you lit the match, sam. you pulled the trigger.” he looks at you, dumbfounded as if he finally understands what you’ve been trying to say this whole time but knows that he’s gone too far. once a trigger’s been pulled, it can’t be undone and he knows that. that knowledge is a sort of pain that rings in his ears and swirls violently in his stomach.

you grab your coat from the hanger on the wall beside you.

“wait,” he chokes out, tears shining in his eyes. you shoot him a harsh look and he shuts his mouth. he doesn’t get to say that word.

“i’ll call if i figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. otherwise, tell dean not to call, ‘cause i’m not coming back.” you grab your bag from the floor by the bed and walk past him to take all the cash from his wallet. you feel his eyes follow you until you reach the door.

hand on the door knob, you turn back to him and you stare him square in the eye to be sure he can see your tears, to show him he made you cry. you won’t tell him he’s horrible, so you’ll settle for a simple, “you’re wrong, sam. you’re wrong about this.”

then you walk out the door, cursing yourself for hating the sound of him crying more than anything in the world.

[l0stglitch]

Platonic yandere lost boys headcannons

Notes- This was supposed to be general headcannons but then I started leaning into the darker side of the dynamics more, so now it’s more focused on the relationships between reader and the boys.

Warnings- Emotional manipulation, Psychosis, Non consensual drug use, Yandere behaviour, Murder

Dwayne

• You mean the absolute world to Dwayne.

• Seriously- every waking thought is spent on you. You’re like a drug that he can’t function without.

• Sometimes the others joke that he has separation anxiety (he 100% does).

• He loves listening to you speak. Often you’ll both lie down on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You’ll tell him about your day through the rose-tinted lenses of childhood, and he’ll listen. He listens with an interest that you have never been regarded with before. It makes you feel special.

• The two of you go down to the skatepark together every now and again and your dad teaches you how to skate.

• You’d never tell the others, but those are your favourite nights. When it’s just you and Dwayne out at night practicing tricks under the solitary streetlight.

• It’s usually empty, but when there is anyone else there Dwayne warns you of how dangerous they could be.

• He doesn’t mean to scare you, but sometimes the only way you’ll follow the rules is by telling you every other man out there is out to get you.

• His warnings made you paranoid and untrusting of everyone for a while.

• It eventually got so bad that you had a psychotic episode- locking yourself in your room for days because you believed that your fathers wanted to harm you.

• Eventually they broke down your door to find you starving and severely dehydrated, having spent days completely devoid of food and water.

• You were too weak to even fight back when they scooped you up and carried you out your room.

• Dwayne was in hysterics.

• He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the week, and made sure to hand feed you all your meals.

• You protested, but he was relentless.

• He almost made you feel like it was your fault. Acting so hurt that you would take such little care for yourself. Do you really hate them that much? Why don’t you trust them after everything they’ve done for you?

• Days later, you found yourself crying in his arms, begging for forgiveness. Through desperate sobs you sputtered out apology after apology, clinging to his leather jacket.

• Seeing you so needy for him- so desperate for his love almost made it all worth it.

• He just ran his fingers through your hair like you were a scared animal, trying to get you to calm down.

• That’s how disputes between you and your father almost always end. With you begging for his forgiveness for something you know deep down wasn’t your fault.

• After your breakdowns, you often sit alone in your room wondering how you let the same thing happen every time. You’ve always had a soft spot for Dwayne, but sometimes you wonder if his powers have more uses than you thought.

• All those times you’ve awoken from a horrifyingly realistic nightmare, or felt a piercing sense of dread at the thought of sneaking out, a tiny fear itches in the back of your brain.

• Are your thoughts actually yours?

Marko

• Marko 100% plays with you the most.

• He’s just naturally more energetic than the others (which often leads him to getting into fights).

• But when he’s not scrapping with surf nazis, he spends the rest of his time practically worshipping you.

• Sometimes when it’s just the two of you, you’ll stop by a playground to play for a bit.

• He’d never admit it to anyone, but sometimes he gets jealous seeing you play with the kids there.

• I feel like Marko is a very creative person (I mean cmon look at his jacket). One of my personal hcs is that he painted the leopard on Dwayne’s jacket.

• He’d definitely buy (or steal) a jacket for you just so he can customise it. He also sees it as a way of showing that you belong to them.

• You’d sit next to him on the couch, sketching out every little detail you want whilst he listens, hanging onto your every word.

• Despite his need to show everyone you are theirs, he also genuinely loves making things for you.

• He made a bracelet for you to match the one Dwayne stole when you first met.

• Out of everyone he’s the most possessive.

• Sometimes, depending on his mood, he’ll ban you from speaking to anyone other than them (even Max). Other times he’ll outright stop you from going to the boardwalk with them. He’d stay with you in the cave whilst the other three go out to hunt.

• It worked when you were younger and more obedient, however during your teen years you grew to be a lot more rebellious.

• Marko absolutely HATES the thought of you growing up. He doesn’t know what kind of a person you’ll be in the future, and that scares him.

• That and the fact that he knows you’ll inevitably want to start dating.

• He’s kind of in denial about the whole growing up thing.

• Unfortunately when you do become a teenager he literally can’t cope. He refuses to believe you are able to take care of yourself and will baby you.

• On multiple occasions you have lashed out at him for the way he treats you, sick of how he refuses to accept the fact that you have a functional brain and can think for yourself.

• Unfortunately Marko has a particularly short temper. He has, on multiple occasions, accidentally shoved you into a cabinet in the heat of an argument, and left you with dark, angry bruises.

• And then comes the guilt tripping. Sometimes you’d wonder if he secretly likes it when you get hurt because of how happy he always looks when he gets to take care of you.

• You’re father’s mood can switch up in a matter of seconds. Sometimes it feels like you’re walking on eggshells around him, afraid that the slightest mistake will set him off.

• Usually Dwayne or Paul are around to tell him to chill out, but when you’re alone you just have to play along with his delusions of you still being his little girl to avoid conflict.

• It’s hard though, especially when he suddenly brings up a new rule to ‘keep you safe’. It’s practically impossible to keep Marko happy, and with every new rule, you know it’s only a matter of time until you break it (intentionally or not).

• He would never admit it, even to himself, but part of him secretly enjoys it when you break the rules. He likes hearing your heart pounding loudly from your chest, betraying the unbothered scowl on your face.

• It reminds him that no matter how grown up you look on the outside, you’ll always just be that timid little girl they found by the carousel. Helpless and in need of her fathers.

Paul

• He doesn’t mean to be, but Paul is definitely the dad that lets you get away with anything.

• Poor guy doesn’t really know how to act around kids, so he ends up either being a bit awkward around you or just treating you like a mini adult.

• As a result, you don’t really fear him as much as you do the others, but you also don’t see him as reliable as they are.

• You know Dwayne will always be there for you. Paul though? Half the time he’s too high to even tell you what day of the week it is.

• He feels guilty about it. Really guilty. He loves you just as much as the others do, but he just doesn’t know how to show it, so he lets you get away with things.

• Oh- you want a chocolate bar for breakfast? Sure, so long as you don’t tell Dwayne.

• You wanna try his cigarette? Ok, but make sure David doesn’t find out.

• At first it’s great. You love getting to hang out with Paul because of the little secrets you share. He gets high and you get to do what you want.

• It isn’t until you start to grow up, and he begins to enjoy your company more that his behaviour starts changing.

• Out of everyone, Paul (ironically) knows the most of your secrets.

• He’s just so much easier to talk to than the others- and whilst he doesn’t always give you particularly good advice on how to deal with certain situations, you can appreciate him for listening.

• Your trust in him backfires though, as he realises he can use your secrets against you.

• He literally blackmails you into spending more time with him. You don’t wanna hang out? That’s fine- but be prepared to have a stern telling off from David after Paul found a bag of weed under your bed.

• You picked up most of your bad habits from your father. Getting black out drunk and stealing cigarettes with your small group of friends, for example.

• Compared to the others, he isn’t very controlling in terms of rules. He knows that telling you what to do directly will only make you rebel, so instead he takes a slightly different approach.

• He drugs you.

• It took years for you to finally realise why you would sometimes sleep for such long amounts of time, despite not feeling tired beforehand.

• Eventually you connected the dots, and came to the sickening realisation that he would put crushed sleeping pills in your food every time you mentioned wanting to go out with your friends.

• After confronting your fathers about it, you refused to eat any food they had prepared for you. This lasted a while, until you ran out of money and were no longer able to afford cheap takeaways.

• It becomes a lot harder for Paul to drug you after that, however every now and again he manages to slip you a sedative.

• You absolutely hate it.

• You hate feeling completely helpless. Mind dull and emotions muffled by the effects of the drug. Even your body feels heavy, and you find that you only have enough energy to lay in Paul’s embrace, waiting to fall asleep.

David

• Ok let’s be real David is definitely the most distant father out everyone.

• After all, he has a reputation to uphold (and he’s scared of completely fucking up as a dad).

• He prefers spending time with you inside the cave rather than going out to the boardwalk.

• He uses excuses similar to Dwayne- telling you how dangerous it is, but unlike Dwayne he doesn’t actually believe what he’s telling you.

• David knows that it’s very unlikely that anything will happen to you. You’re hardly ever by yourself, so the chances of someone actually managing to hurt you are slim- especially with four overprotective vampire fathers lurking nearby.

• The real reason is that it makes him feel less in control. He can’t decide who you’re friends with, or who talks to you when you do occasionally manage to sneak away from them.

• Your biological family is gone. But who’s to say there isn’t someone out there looking for you still? David can’t help the everlasting paranoia from seeping into his every thought.

• So for peace of mind, he sets rules and curfews. Anything that will ease his worries.

• Practically every minute of your life is dictated by David. He thrives off of controlling you.

• Each and every rule and punishment goes through him first. He’s essentially the backbone of the pack.

• You resent him for it. You hate the way he encourages the others, and how he speaks down at you so condescendingly.

• Your relationship wasn’t always so strained though.

• As a kid you completely idolised David. His hair, his bike, his music. You were like his shadow. Constantly trailing behind him, grasping onto his signature trench coat.

• He loved every minute of it. Your father would spoil you. He’d steal little gifts at every opportunity, and buy you posters and t shirts of all the bands he had gotten you into.

• Unfortunately, as you got older you made friends outside the pack. You developed new interests, and David felt threatened.

• After all, you’re supposed to their little girl. You were supposed to grow up and stay with your fathers- your pack. Not branch out and meet new people.

• So in response, David killed one of your friends.

• One of the boys in your group who he thought you were becoming dangerously close to.

• Of course, you didn’t know David was the reason he had gone missing, so when you broke down in tears, feeling terrified for your friend, David was there to hold you.

• The way he gently rubbed your back and soothingly whispered into your ear almost made you forget about the disappearance of one of your closest friends.

• That brief moment of bliss bringing you back to your childhood as you sought comfort in your father’s tender embrace.

• David could only pray that you would remain ignorant to the truth about your dearly departed friend.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife (lmk if anyone else wants to be added)

[helluvapoison]

Lucifer Morningstar ABC’s (SFW)

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

♡ A. Affection ♡

How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

What doesn’t he do?

Lucifer looks at you with pure adoration. It’s like he wakes up and falls in love with you all over again throughout the day. Gifts, compliments, the kindest words, the cutesy nicknames— He will do anything and everything to show he loves you, but he specifically thrives when you tell him what you want or need from him.

“Luci, could you—“

He’s on it, rushing to your side before you’re finished speaking.

“Yes! Absolutely, of course, anything, what is it my light requires?”

Reward him with praise and a kiss, it’s like he’s back on top of the world

♡ B. Bad Habit ♡

What bad habits do they have?

Lucifer forgets there’s an entire realm that’s under his care, that other people exist outside of whatever project he’s hyper focused on. This takes a massive toll on his relationship with Charlie and, occasionally, you. You, however, live with Lucifer so it makes the patchwork easier.

He struggles to take care of himself and his pride refuses to let anyone help. He’ll work and work and work until he passes out standing up! His stomach will be howling, his eyes drooping, his body aching everywhere but he won’t feel it.

All of that goes hand in hand with how stubborn Luci can be. He won’t cater to his needs so when you barge in to, oh, y’know, keep him alive, he feels incredibly guilty

♡ C. Comfort ♡

Are they a good shoulder to cry on or do they get awkward?

You’ll want or need for nothing with Lucifer. A shoulder is the least he can do for you if you’re upset.

The issue is when he sees your tears, he panics— inwardly. A thousand questions rush through his mind. Are you hurt? He scans for signs of injury as he steps closer. Was someone cruel to you? His demonic features threaten to flare.

You can see the turmoil unfold and dissipate all at once. You need him, so there’s only one question he needs to ask. Slowly, Lucifer reaches up to cradle your face. He wipes away your tears with his thumb

“How can I fix this?”

♡ D. Domestic ♡

Are there plans for the future? Kids, a house, a dog or three?

He has a ring in his pocket at all times, just not the balls to pop the question. Lucifer wants it all, absolutely everything, as long as it’s with you and he’s known it for a long time

♡ E. Energy ♡

Would you have trouble keeping up with them?

Lucifer’s an introvert with an energy scale thats’s broken on both ends. He prefers his down time where he can tinker alone in his office. However, he’s extremely charming and a phenomenal conversationalist. He draws power from crowds and party-like settings, most likely because people are watching in awe of him.

Still, he’d happily choose a mundane dinner with you, Charlie and Vaggie over anything

♡ F. Fear ♡

What are they scared of when it comes to you?

He managed to go on after falling… and after Lilith, but both events took its toll on him. Lucifer doesn’t think he could survive losing you. The thought alone is paralyzing

♡ G. Gentle ♡

How gentle are they?

Painfully gentle when he needs to be but occasionally Lucifer forgets himself. He’s in a constant state of touch deprivation so when he gets desperate for it, he might be a tad overzealous.

Definitely tackled you to the ground in a hug before

♡ H. Honesty ♡

Do they have secrets they hide?

It’s not a secret but he is ashamed to admit he keeps his first wedding ring. He took it off after you two began going steady for a year or so. It felt disingenuous. He would hate to have you thinking he was attempting to make you a stand in for Lilith. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of it

♡ I. I love you’s ♡

Who says it first?

It has to be you. Lucifer chokes on the words every time he feels them bubbling up in his chest. Literally, he starts coughing and excuses himself to get water. As adorable as you think it is, you bite the bullet and try to make it as natural as possible.

He was hunched over his desk, intensely focused on design plans an addition to Lu Lu World. You leaned around his chair, set down a warm mug filled with coffee, plant a kiss on his cheek aaaand,

“I’m off, Luci!” You press your lips to his forehead, “Have a nice day, I love you.”

“Aw, I love you too, sweetie!” He replied, not looking up from the papers.

Smiling to yourself, you turned and slowly began making your way to toward the door.

Three… two.. o— CRASH!

Lucifer was in front of you before you could blink with his arms and wings stretched out to stop you from taking another step. His eyes were wild and wide.

“You—You love me?” He sounded breathless.

“Of course I love you, Luci.”

He floundered between cackling and gasping for air for a good minute.

“I-I-I love you too! You know I love you, right?” He stammered out, gesturing between you both, “I love you so fucking much it’s insane!”

The day’s problems and errands are forgotten, lost amongst the hundred-thousand ‘I love you’s said.

“Say it again,” Lucifer asked dreamily, about to fall asleep in your arms that night.

“I love you, Lucifer.”

♡ J. Jealous ♡

Are they jealous? How do they handle it?

There’s an almost nonexistent line Lucifer walks between fine and incandescent demon. He forgot what jealousy felt for a good thousand years before you. Christ on a cracker, he fucking hates it!

He’ll do his very, very, very best not to blow up (metaphorically speaking… but also literally) but he slips, his rage is never aimed at you! It entirely depends on the situation, the person he’s dealing with, if he can get you back into his arms before the flames rise past his throat. Touching you again in some way is like cool relief.

Just hold his hand until you guys get home and he’ll apologize properly. Lucifer feels immensely guilty afterwards, he just can’t stand the idea of losing you

♡ K. Kiss ♡

What kind of kisser? Deep and passionate? Sloppy? Little pecks on the cheek?

Lucifer kisses you like he’ll never see you again. He wants to encase the moment in gold so it can never end, memorizing how your lips feel upon his

♡ L. Listen ♡

Do they hang off your every word or have selective hearing?

As long as you have his attention beforehand, you can rest assured he’s listened to every single word you’ve said. If you try and talk to him while he’s working, he might not realize it and you’ll have to start again

(Be patient with Lucifer. You can see he’s trying so hard to participate in conversations but through reminding himself to pay attention, he gets distracted and lost. He really is trying)

♡ M. Maintenance ♡

Are they high maintenance? Low? Do they need more skincare products than you?

“What can I say? I take pride in everything.”

You snort out a laugh, tousling his hair before leaving the bathroom.

Preens like a bird, always looking so dapper. When Lucifer has the energy to get take the necessary steps he has the works awaiting. Hair product, skincare routine, steam and press his white suit! It doesn’t always get done but he has it! You’ve helped him relearn to be ok with the bare minimum; sometimes brushing his hair and teeth, then putting on clothes is enough.

Extra: Lucifer’s idea for a date night is a spa treatment! Face masks, bubble baths, washing hair, painting nails and silk pajamas

♡ N. Newsworthy ♡

Are they shouting their love from the rooftops?

Considering he’s somewhat a celebrity figure and a recluse, his private life is very much sought after. Lucifer would love nothing more than to soar through the skies of Hell and have it echoing through every dirty alley how much he loves you, how proud he is to be with you!

But he won’t, especially not at first. Lucifer wants to keep you his secret for a while, something for himself. Charlie will be the first to know and everything can spiral from there for all he cares. Before any of that happens, though? Somehow all of Hell can tell

♡ O. Observant ♡

Do they watch you often or spare you glances?

Lucifer could watch you like a television, you’re so enchanting. He notices everything about you and stores the information for the future (as if him knowing you don’t like chives, or something, would ever be useful) Quirks, likes and dislikes, allergies— he knows it all!

Wanna quiz him? C’mon, quiz him! He’s confident he’ll get an A+

♡ P. Protection ♡

Are they overboard or level headed about protecting their loved ones?

Said with nothing but love, Lucifer is extremely overprotective. Without hesitation, he’d dive headfirst into battle, start and end wars for you or Charlie. When he says nothing will never ever ever happen to you, he fucking means it

♡ Q. Quid Pro Quo ♡

Is it 50/50? Give and get?

Yes and no

Is the relationship equal? Yes! If you give Lucifer something (be it affection, a gift, etc) does he feel undeserving and get the overwhelming need to overcompensate? Also yes!

♡ R. Reliable ♡

Can you count on them?

Undoubtedly.

♡ S. Scent ♡

Their perfume/cologne/natural musk

Lucifer has a few colognes that he wears on special occasions; ambery vanilla or vanilla bourbon. His soaps smell like crisp, red apples.

Naturally, he doesn’t smell like anything. He tells you it’s the “charcoal curse”. You wrap your arms around him and say he always smells like home, hoping that will lift his spirits

♡ T. Temper ♡

What is their temper like? Quick to anger? Long fuse? How bad do they lose it?

There’s been instances where there’s little to no build up on Lucifer’s fury but normally, he’s quite patient! Or at least very good at pretending to be unbothered. He doesn’t like losing control of any of his emotions but sometimes it’s inevitable. Scenarios as such usually, if not always, surround you and Charlie and if that happens… there’s destruction to clean up afterwards

♡ U. Unwind ♡

How do they relax?

Unfortunately for you, Lucifer doesn’t quite recall how to relax. Or when he should. Or why he should— hey, why should he?

He doesn’t realize tinkering with his ducks naturally lets off steam. Plus, sometimes he ends up more frustrated with the outcome and the relaxing process of making it was for naught

Toss him in the bath with some bubbles and his favorite ducks. Seriously. Perch outside the tub (or in it if you want!) and watch Luci melt back into the man you love. Call him your little duckling and he’s officially right as rain

♡ V. Value ♡

What’s their love language? What makes them feel special?

Acting • Gift Giving

Receiving • Words of affirmation

♡ W. Waves ♡

What will you two argue most about?

His health or his pessimism. You worry for his mental well being as much as you do his body, he needs to be able to take care of both. Lucifer’s cynical attitude is partly how he feels and partly him trying to convince himself of what he’s saying

The last time he dreamed too big didn’t end well at all but you remind him that shouldn’t stop him from having new dreams, even itty bitty ones! Not to mention his words have an effect on others as well and he forgets that

♡ X. Xylophone ♡

What’s their song?

Icarus - Bastille

Your hands protect the flames

From the wild winds around you

Icarus is flying too close to the sun

And Icarus' life, it has only just begun

It's just begun...

Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace

It scares me half to death

Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing

(bonus, From Eden - Hozier, no i don’t give a flying fuck if it’s on the nose)

♡ Y. Yearning ♡

How do they act when separated?

It’s incredibly hard to leave him behind. While he teases he’ll fall apart without you, Lucifer wears a brave face when it actually comes time for you to leave. His smile is tight, brows pinching upwards the farther you get. It’s torture not to reach out and steal you back, deny you from ever leaving him.

He was joking in an entirely serious way. If it wasn’t for your texts (Luci leaps for his phone with every buzz, just in case it’s you) he’d forget… just about everything. Doesn’t matter the time or day unless it’s regarding your returning date

♡ Z. Zzz ♡

Do they sleep a lot? Not enough? Night owl or early bird? Light sleeper or heavy?

The theme of the hour is you could be in store for almost anything!

Ranging anywhere from jumping into bed when you mention getting tired and passing out at his desk at an unholy hour, it really depends on the day and Lucifer’s mood. He could have nightmares and cling to you in his sleep, he could wake up at 3am with a brilliant idea that he just has to get done right then and there, he could stay snoring in your arms! Normally, as long as you don’t get out of bed he’ll stay asleep

Don’t even think about getting up to pee, he’ll illuminate the room with his big and pitiful crimson eyes

“Where’re you goin?” He mumbles, still partly asleep

“Be right back, duckie.”

Your lips linger on his forehead while his eyes droop shut once more. Give it a few seconds then carefully slide out of bed. Just be back before he wakes up!

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[spideyjimin]

PART I: SHIVERS | un cielo di perle

“un cielo di perle” means a sky of pearls in italian

⏤ pairing: taehyung x female reader 

⏤ genre: college au, rich kid!taehyung, strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ words: 5,981

⏤ summary: taehyung doesn’t know how to love, he actually has never loved anyone, not even himself. he dreams of escaping this life, a life where he can do whatever he wants and where his parents don’t exploit him. his dream becomes a reality when he meets you; however, it comes with a challenge. at first, you hate him. but as the saying goes, there’s only one step between hate and love. and when taehyung loves, he can steal a sky of pearls for his lover.   

⏤ warnings: mature language, swearing, mention of sex, sexual tension, mention of epilepsy, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, mention of cheating, mention of financial struggles, and mention of health issues

⏤ author’s note: the first part is finally here! 🥳 it's been a while since it's ready but i wanted to be back from holidays to properly read it and correct it before posting it 🤗 i'm actually very excited with this series, i have soo many ideas for this & i truly hope you'll enjoy it. don't hesitate to let me know what you think of it 💜

⏤ playlist: brividi - Mahmood ft. Blanco

SERIES MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Running through the campus, you mentally check that you took all your belongings. It would be a nightmare to get them back, probably someone would steal them. In the best-case scenario, you’d have to go to the lost and found office. That doesn’t enchant you really well. 

But you’re running out of time. Today’s lectures ended super late, and you must be at the store where you work. The manager is quite harsh and isn’t very kind when someone is late. That has never happened to you. You always make sure to be on time since you’re the type to be a people-pleaser. Being late isn’t even possible, so you run to catch the bus and ensure you’re on time. 

As you reach the pedestrian crossing, a stupid car passes by and almost knocks you over. Luckily, you take a quick step back to avoid being hurt. You instantly yell, insulting the driver since the person seems not to have seen you. When you yell, you see the driver, he’s also looking at you and you show him your best middle finger, making him understand that he’s an asshole. 

“Asshole,” you aggressively shout.

Nonetheless, the second you realize who it is, you instantly regret it. That man is no other than Kim Taehyung. He’s for sure the most recognizable man in the entire campus but he’s also the son of the big boss of your shop. Well, to make it short, you work at one of the many Kim Couture’s shops and it happens that the company was created by the Kim family. A family that Taehyung is part of. 

The cherry on top is that Taehyung will be coming to the store you’re working at. The other point is that he saw you yelling and showing your middle finger. A devious smirk appeared on his face. 

Shit! You’re definitely in trouble. 

Taehyung isn’t just Taehyung. He’s known to be a fucker, and a good one apparently, a rich kid, full of himself, pretentious, popular, exasperating, and crazily annoying. He thinks he’s the king of the world. That’s the way you perceive him.

At the end of the day, he’s a guy who grew up with a golden spoon in his mouth. He always had everything he wanted, and everybody always licked his boots. He does whatever he wants with people. It’s quite annoying but you won’t deny that he is charismatic. 

Again, that’s the way you perceive him but you ignore that it’s far from being the truth. 

Quickly after, the bus arrives and you jump in it. Your heart is beating like crazy, you’re so scared of what will happen and what Taehyung will do or say. After all, he’s your big boss’ son. If he desires to fire you, he has the power to do it. You absolutely don’t want to lose this job. It was already hard to find one with your limited experience, but you need to keep it. The tuition fees are costly. 

Getting into a prestigious university was your biggest dream, and through some miracle, you managed to do it. It came with a lot of work, obviously. You were determined to be there. However, you thought that it would be harder than that. You believed that you needed to be the daughter of wealthy parents. But through your own efforts, you were accepted, and you’re quite proud of yourself. 

Having a job is what allows you to pursue your dream. Your parents insisted on helping with the tuition fees, but you don’t really want their financial assistance. This is your dream, not theirs, so they shouldn’t have to pay for it. That’s how you see things. Certainly, balancing your studies with your job isn’t easy. But you manage to make it work and you’re very proud of yourself. 

Of course, you appreciate the fact that your parents want to help, but the fees are extremely expensive. You don’t want your parents to ruin themselves to support you, they already face financial difficulties. You don’t want to be a burden for them. So, you’re going to work a lot and as much as you can to pay for everything on your own. 

Working at Kim Couture is definitely helping a lot. The wage is good, it allows you to even save some money. You wished to use it to help your parents but they refused. In some way, you take a lot after them, and you can all be very stubborn when it comes to finance. 

Once you arrive at your workplace, you run to the back to change yourself. There is a strict dress code to follow as a Kim Couture employee. Today, you even have to make an extra effort to dress even better than usual. You have to be perfect because Kim Jihyun, Taehyung’s father is coming.   

It doesn’t enchant you to meet him and his son today, especially after this incident with the son. 

“Mister Kim is coming in 5,” your boss, Namjoon informs you. 

You hurry up to avoid giving another reason for Taehyung to kick you out. It’s already enough you insulated him and showed him your middle finger. The outfit is quite simple, it’s a full black one and a full one created by Kim Couture. Jacket, t-shirt, classic pants, and shoes. Luckily, you can do whatever you want with your hair, the most important is to always be presentable. You always have to be impeccable under any circumstances. 

Through this job, you already had the opportunity to meet famous people, going from a king to a singer. A lot of them are surprisingly very nice and polite. Some others are the opposite, rude as fuck. Those ones, you hate them. With the little experience you have now, when someone enters the store, you can already tell if they are going to be nice or rude. It’s all in their aura. 

Once ready, you run to the front of the store and take place next to your colleagues. You are all lined up next to each other while Namjoon gives clear instructions. Mister Kim will only come to give a little visit, he does it annually. However, this year, it’s his second time visiting this one because this store has been doing great. In any case, it will be your first time meeting Mister Kim since you joined right after his last visit. 

Your colleagues described the man in a non-flattering way. Kim Jihyun is certainly one of the most famous people, there’s no doubt about it, but he’s a horrible person. He shows no mercy to anyone. If things aren’t done the way he wants, he literally explodes. The employees of his stores are treated like shit since they are poor. He inherited the Kim Couture house from his ancestors, he’s very wealthy but he’s definitely the worst person your colleagues have ever met. 

Hearing the stories shared by your coworkers gave you chills running through your spine. That man is, without any doubt, horrible. So, you have to be perfect today so you get to stay here. But now, your biggest concern is what Taehyung will do. Is he a piece of shit as well and he will kick you out?  

An impressive car halts in front of the store. The door is opened by the doorman and two imposing men make their way inside. To be fair, Mister Kim is a frightening person, but what his soul gives off is powerful. You can only have respect for him as he walks near you. He’s wearing a grey suit with a white shirt underneath. The outfit is completed with a dark trench coat. This man breathes money from afar.  

Your eyes move now to his son, Taehyung. He’s certainly very charismatic and he also gives off a strong energy, but not as powerful as his father’s. Unlike his parent, he’s wearing a blue polo shirt with an evident white shirt underneath, and white classic pants. For a second, you take him in. You heard so many things about him at uni, and a lot from your friend Nari. 

Nari is your best friend but also a rich kid. Her grandparents made a fortune by developing an intelligent program that is sold worldwide. You met her a couple of years ago and surprisingly, a very strong friendship blossomed. Both of you see the world differently, but that vision is what has brought you together. Obviously, you sometimes have very animated conversations because you come from two different worlds.  

Nari’s family is close to Taehyung’s family, so she knows him. She doesn’t spend much time with him because they are very different. The way she describes him is quite similar to the rumors people spread on campus. He’s a fuckboy, arrogant guy, full of himself, and a cold-blooded person. The fact that he’s wealthy as fuck makes his personality even worse. 

Taehyung’s eyes land on you. It’s obvious from the way he smiles that he recognizes you. Your heart starts beating crazily. Shit! He follows his father who is walking and examining all of you while Namjoon introduces you. As they do so, you bow in respect. 

“This is yn,” Namjoon says once in front of you. 

“Nice to meet you, Sirs Kim,” you bow to the men. 

They simply nod. The youngest doesn’t say anything which reassures you. Hopefully, today, you won’t be losing your job. For a couple of minutes, you stay in the same position while the other employees are introduced. Mister Kim then gives a little speech in which he says how proud he is of this store, and a lot of other things you honestly don’t listen to. 

Since you sit down on chairs while Mister Kim is giving his speech, you choose to sit at the extremity. So, nobody is sitting to your left. Well, that is until Taehyung decides to join you. At first, you don’t notice him since you’re focused on his father’s speech. 

“So I’m an asshole?” he whispers in your ear, causing you to jump in surprise. 

“For fuck’s sake, you scared me,” you instantly reply in a whisper. 

The same devious smile that was on his face earlier reappears. For a brief moment, your eyes meet his, but you quickly turn your face to look at his father. It makes you uncomfortable to have his glance directly on yours.  

“And to answer your question,” you very quickly look at him. “Yes, you are.” 

You’re hesitant to keep going, too scared that he could do something you’ll forever regret. 

“You were about to knock me over,” you add. 

“You’re being a tiny bit dramatic,” he instantly claps back at you. 

You roll your eyes, he’s being annoying. 

“Could you please let me listen to your father’s speech?” you raise without looking at him. 

He’s distracting you which isn’t good. His father is your big boss, he’s doing a speech and you have to listen to it. It’s rather important. 

“Why would I do that?” he asks back. “I’m an asshole after all.” 

You want to laugh, he’s stupid but it’s definitely not the right moment to be laughing. Namjoon will kill you if you do so. You absolutely don’t want to lose your job because of an asshole. So now, you decide to ignore him, to act like he isn’t even here. A smirk appears on his face when he realizes you’re ignoring him. 

For the rest of Jihyun’s speech, Taehyung leaves you alone, which you’re grateful for. All you wish for now is to not lose your job. That guy seems to be an absolute jerk and the son of your big boss so he has all the powers in his hand. 

Afterward, he leaves you completely alone, giving you some needed peace. Once his father finishes his speech, the two of them leave the store, but before doing so, Taehyung winks at you. You roll your eyes, causing him to laugh a little. The stupid man who almost knocked you over seems to be trying to flirt with you. Does it surprise you? No, because you’re convinced that he does that to every girl so they forgive him for being an asshole. 

But you’re not like the other girls, you won’t forget what he did. 

“Remember me why we’re studying?” Nari asks you while you’re walking. 

“To be badasses!” you jokingly answer. 

Nari laughs at your answer, but she couldn’t agree more with you. You’re studying to have an impressive degree so you can find impressive jobs. She’s aware that all of this is a hundred times harder for you than it is for her. If she doesn’t like this or wants to try something else, she’ll have her parents' money. However, on the other hand, you don’t have that. She knows how incredibly hard you worked to be here, and she knows that you wouldn’t have chosen something just for the fun of it. 

“I don’t want to attend classes today,” she replies. 

“Same,” you answer. “But we have to if we want to be the strongest bitches the world has ever known.” 

Nari admires you beyond comprehension. You’re always so optimistic, always seeing the bright side of everything when the world has shown no mercy to you. Since you’re thirteen, you’ve been battling with epilepsy. It has been a constant struggle but you have shown how strong you are. 

Nari doesn’t know that being positive and optimistic is what helps you fight this terrible and invisible disease. Otherwise, you would have gotten into depression a long time ago. Being positive allows you to genuinely be happy. 

“You’re right,” she says with a bright smile appearing on her face. 

“I’m always right.” 

The two of you enter the lecture hall and take a seat at a random place. It’s quite an impressive room and there aren’t that many students so you can choose wherever you want to sit. There are still a solid 10 minutes before the class starts so you animately keep talking. At a certain point, she frowns, and you turn your head to see what is causing that reaction. 

As you do so, you notice Taehyung coming in your direction. Deep down, you hope that he’s coming for Nari, but inevitably, you know it’s not the truth. You know he’s coming for you. 

“Hi, yn,” Taehyung says with a stupid smile on his face. 

“What do you want?” 

Nari is shockingly surprised by the way you answer him. She totally ignores what happened yesterday with Taehyung. You haven’t talked about it yet, but thanks to this idiot (or asshole as you prefer to call him), you’ll have to do it as soon as he leaves.  

“Calm down, miss dramatic,” you roll your eyes. “I went back to the store yesterday and I noticed you forgot this,” he hands you a personalized pen. 

This pen was offered to you by your dad some months ago. It’s a black pen with your name engraved on it in white. It’s a very pretty one, and for sure, it was expensive but you didn’t say anything. Since your parents didn’t offer you anything when you graduated, they offered you the pen as a little ‘good luck’ gift for this new step in your life. You love this pen, you always take notes with it.

Honestly, you didn’t even notice you left it at the store. However, you would have noticed it during this class as you wouldn’t have found it. It would have annoyed you but it won’t now since Taehyung brought it. 

In a way, it moves you that he considered bringing it back to you. Nonetheless, you’re convinced he has a reason to do it. This is Taehyung after all, he’s known for being selfish. He wouldn’t do this just to be nice to you. 

“You didn’t need to bring it, you could have left it there,” you tell him. 

Taehyung deeply exhales, you can see in his eyes that he’s a bit exasperated. 

“A simple thank you would have been enough,” he says. 

Before you can answer, the professor enters the lecture hall and Taehyung takes a seat somewhere else. You take a quick look at Nari. She’s definitely surprised by everything that just happened. You will need to tell her. It’s nothing major but it’s for sure shocking that this man even acknowledges your existence. Outside of wealthy people, he doesn’t know anybody else here. 

For a brief moment, you turn your face to look for him. You quickly find him and to your surprise, he’s also looking at you. 

In all honesty, you barely know him but you can tell that you feel a lot of mixed feelings. You kind of hate him for what he did yesterday, although hate is a strong word. You simply don’t really like him. However, he’s captivating. 

After the class, as you’re walking on the campus, you explain everything to Nari. There’s not much to be said but she’s your best friend so it’s normal for you to explain to her how you met Kim Taehyung. 

Taehyung wakes up with a massive headache. He drank too much as always. His eyes try to adjust to the light but it takes him some time since the room is fucking bright. His face turns to his left, only to find a girl sleeping on his bed. Nothing new. 

For the past two years, his life has been made up of parties, hangovers, and lots of sex. That’s how he enjoys life. Well, that’s how he believes he enjoys it. Deep down, he knows he chose this life because two years ago, he didn’t want to stay at home. It was way too hard to be there, and partying, drinking, and having sex is a lot easier. 

Having girls in his bed is way too easy for him. All the girls are crawling at his feet, desperate for a little bit of recognition. Of course, he’s more than aware that he’s charismatic and he plays with it. Flirting is like second nature to him. It doesn’t take him much to make a girl crave him. It’s quite an easy game for him. 

However, when he realizes the girl who’s sleeping next to him, it instantly wakes him up. Shit! It’s Hyejoo. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he rapidly says while getting up.

Hyejoo isn’t any girl, she’s the daughter of one of Kim Couture’s investors, Park Daehyun. She’s super wealthy, even wealthier than him so Jihyun decided that Taehyung has to date her. And in dating her, he means to marry her. Not right now but he has to get with her and stay with her until marriage. The purpose is to make her a Kim. That way, her family will forever invest in Kim Couture. Honestly, it’s well thought out but Taehyung doesn’t want her, doesn’t want to get married, and most importantly, he doesn’t want to be used for the company’s interest. Nevertheless, that’s nothing new. 

His father has always put the company first. The rest doesn’t matter. He got married to a wealthy woman for the company, but he never loved her. Made children with her to ensure the future of the business. Luckily, a boy was born first so he didn’t need to try many times before producing an heir. He got a daughter afterwards but it was just a plus. So in the end, he has absolutely no consideration for his daughter, Yseult. Basically, he acts like she doesn’t even exist which is quite destructive for her. Taehyung tries as much as he can to protect her but it’s sometimes almost impossible to protect her from their father. 

With time, his mother started to be like his father. Her family was only good if it benefited the company. She always agrees with Jihyun, and in the end, they both use Taehyung for the business. They don’t see him as their child or even like a human at all. They only see him as the future CEO and the new face of Kim Couture. So they don’t let him do much. For sure, they let him party right now so he can enjoy life before being in charge of the company. But enjoy is a strong word. He doesn’t enjoy anything. 

When Taehyung was young, he remembers how loving and caring his mother was. He hated his father who was very severe with him but he deeply loved his mother. She was his everything. But as he grew up and she started to change, he also started hating her. He felt no more love towards her. Today, he doesn’t love anyone, not even himself. His life is quite sad in the end. 

“Good morning Taehyung,” Hyejoo says when she wakes up. 

“I have to go,” he simply tells her. 

She’s a bit confused but he doesn’t give a shit about it. He storms out of the room and basically runs outside. As he does so, he calls his chauffeur to come and get him. His parents don’t let him drive as they are scared something will happen to him. They trust Minho to always drive him anywhere. Things are a bit different now that he is in college, he can drive alone during the week but during the weekend, he can’t. Minho has to drive him anywhere he wants to. In a matter of seconds, he arrives to pick him up. Hyejoo tries to catch him but she doesn’t arrive on time. 

“Can we go to some random coffee shop?” Taehyung asks. 

“Yes,” the chauffeur answers while nodding. 

Taehyung looks from the window. Flashbacks from last night came back, he drank a lot and Hyejoo flirted with him. At first, he pushed her back since he didn’t like her but she was insistent. As he was getting drunk, he was letting his guard down so in the end, he couldn’t resist her anymore. 

He rubs his face while mentally insulting himself. He should have resisted because now, she’ll run around him even more. Hyejoo loves Taehyung, it’s no secret to anyone. She’s always around him, trying to make him fall in love with her. She’s also convinced that he’ll date and marry her as his father plans. Although she totally ignores that he doesn’t like her at all. He couldn’t actually care less about her. 

They arrive at a coffee shop, it’s a small one but it looks so cozy inside. Minho opens the car’s door to Taehyung and he walks to the entrance. His chauffeur remains in front of the car, waiting for his boss’ child. Taehyung is only going to grab a coffee and some pastries to eat while going home. 

He stands in front of the bar and checks the menu. He’s starving so he’ll take all the pastries that he craves. He orders and then moves to the right, to the little space where customers patiently wait. As he walks in that direction, a girl turns around, causing them to hit each other. Since she was holding a coffee in her hands, he got coffee all over his blue shirt. 

“Fuck,” he swears. “Could have been..” 

As he speaks and lays his eyes down on the girl, he realizes that it’s you. 

“You, again,” you mumble as you notice that he’s the guy hitting you. “You should be more careful,” you instantly tell him. 

“You’re the one who hit me this time,” he replies. “I was just walking to get my order.” 

“Well, I was going to leave after receiving my order.” 

Being around each other makes you both feel something you both never felt for anyone else. It’s weird since you’ve only known each other for like 4 days. He didn’t even know you existed until he almost knocked you over. 

Now, he’s covered in coffee which angers him and you lost half of your coffee which angers you as well. 

“Pff,” you say. “Now I have to order a new coffee because of you.” 

“If you were more careful, you wouldn’t need to do that.” 

You roll your eyes. Around him, you’ve rolled your eyes a lot. You’re even surprised by it, nobody has ever made you do that so often. On the other hand, he absolutely hates when you do that, he’d even say that it almost pisses him off. 

“Fuck you,” you simply say back. 

He takes a step closer to you, your faces are now very close. There is barely any space between you, his eyes roaming your face before halting for a couple of seconds on your lips. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst at any moment. This man is impressive. His face gets closer to you, and your heart beats even faster, something that never happened before. 

Taehyung notices that you don’t step back. Well, he doesn’t want to as well. You both glance at each other. For the first time ever, he feels his heart beating fast. No other girl, or anyone else, has ever made him feel that way. He notices how pretty you are. Well, from the first second, he laid eyes on you, he found you very beautiful. But now that you’re closer, he gets to see closely your beauty. You’re also very charismatic, you draw him in a way he can’t explain. Without realizing it, he’s attracted to you. You catch all of his attention when he’s near you. 

When he found your pen at the store, he could have left it there. But that was the perfect excuse to get to see you and talk to you. He can’t resist the urge of being around you. If he sees you, he only wants to get closer. Like right now. He could be talking to you without being this close, but he needs it. 

He takes in your sweet scent, you smell so good. 

Both of you are glancing deeply into each other. There is definitely something going on but you won’t admit it. 

After what felt like an eternity, he pulls himself together before getting closer to your ear. 

“What did you say?” he murmurs with a deep voice, causing shivers down your spine. 

“Do you want me to spell it out for you?” you dare to say. “F-U-C-K,” before you can even finish, he cuts you off. 

“Don’t you ever say that again,” he whispers. “Especially if you’re in the wrong.” 

“You’re threatening me?” your question almost sounds like an affirmation. 

“I’m just warning you, miss dramatic,” he says. 

Taehyung strongly stinks of alcohol but there’s also a bit of his cologne emanating from him. You don’t even doubt that he has a hangover and is most probably still drunk. 

“Oh,” you first say. “You think I’m afraid of you, asshole?” you then say. 

He’s caught off guard, causing him to take a step back to look at you. Usually, people get scared and leave him alone. Honestly, you’re kind of the surprising type. Now you’re the one getting closer to his ear before starting to whisper.  

“You should be the one being careful,” you murmur. 

The way you pronounced every word made him shiver. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him. It’s been only a couple of days but you’ve been resisting him in every possible way. This almost feels like a challenge to him to make you fall onto your knees. 

“Or what?” he asks. 

“Well, you’ll have to discover,” you answer. 

Taehyung feels your breath crashing against his ear, and visible goosebumps appear on his body. You don’t notice as you’re concentrating on provoking him. As you take a step back, you’re startled by his burning eyes on you. To say that he’s devouring you is literally an understatement. Never before has a man looked at you that way. Thousands of butterflies are freed inside your belly. 

You don’t even know how to look at him or if you’re even looking at him the same way. The only thing you are sure of is that your cheeks are fully red. Even if this man impossibly angers you, he also manages to destabilize you. It’s so contradictory. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the feeling of his burning eyes on you. It makes you feel desired. Desired by Kim Taehyung. 

“I need to order my coffee again,” you say as you put a clear distance between you. 

Taehyung simply nods and a few minutes later his order is ready. For a brief moment, his eyes discreetly glance at you while he grabs his order. There’s something so mesmerizing about you, and damn, he really wants to discover what you’ll do to him if he pushes you again over the hedge. 

While you’re sitting on the bus, you’re completely lost in your thoughts. You’re thinking about what happened with Taehyung minutes ago. Things with him are evolving intriguingly. You’re both always colliding with each other. It’s not smooth at all. But that man is so fucking annoying! How can even people like him at all? 

The music is blasting in your ears through your headphones. Sabrina Carpenter is singing “Feather” for your biggest pleasure. It’s one of your favorite songs at the moment. Surprisingly, it’s one of the songs that has been reminding you that you were too good for your ex. Definitely, you’re better off without him. However, you try not to think too much about him because he devastatingly broke your heart. 

Kai, your ex, is the kind of guy that easily becomes friends with everybody. He’s super chill and super nice. You two instantly hit it off, you directly felt love but it took you some time to actually fall in love with him. Being loved and loving him felt so good. You both imagined what your future life together could look like. You were convinced that he was the one. But you were wrong. He never was the one. 

At a party, he kissed a girl. It wasn’t just a random girl, it was a girl he had a crush on a couple of years ago. It devastated you, especially since you were going through a tough time health-wise. You were also working too hard to get accepted at this prestigious university. It was just the last straw. However, since you were convinced he was your forever person, you forgave him. You thought that it was just a mere kiss, and he also did everything to make you forgive him. 

The reconciliation didn’t last long because you were such a mess. Everything was just too much and you couldn’t handle anything anymore. So you put an end to your relationship. You were devastated, to say the least. You thought that he was going to make his way back to you but he kind of didn’t. You had some conversations but they all ended up in sex. It was nice but nothing was being solved. However, he was doing that to keep you wrapped around his fingers. From there, everything became a mess. 

Kai hid from you that he was seeing that girl so he could have you. He was flirtatious with you, and you were having a lot of casual sex. You believed things were going to be solved and that you were getting back together. Today, as you look backward, you realize that it was merely a physical attraction. Nothing more. You never got back together because you ignored that he was actually with the other girl. 

It shocked you once you found out. Kai talked so badly of cheaters and he was there doing the exact same thing. What you didn’t forgive him is the fact that you were the other girl. He was cheating on his girlfriend with you while you weren’t aware of the situation. It broke you beyond comprehension. 

Kai is still with his girlfriend, it’s already been more than a year. You don’t know if she ever found out that he cheated on her. Probably not. You don’t think she’d stay with a cheater but you don’t know her so you don’t know how she’d handle it. Maybe she forgave him. You don’t know. The only thing you’re sure of is that sometimes he comes back. Thank god, Nari is part of your life and forbids you to interact at all with him. 

You rest your head against the window. Recently, you surprised yourself by wanting to find a new boyfriend. For the past year, you decided to focus on your health and your studies. Having a partner would only distract you from your goals. However, today, everything seems to be on track so you don’t have any reasons to hold back. But it isn’t that easy. You’re not the type to easily make friends, but you aren’t desperate so you don’t really care right now. It’s sometimes a bit hard to be wanting someone around you and you don’t have anyone. 

You leave the bus when it halts at your stop. The massive building housing the hospital stands in front of you. Recently, you’ve been coming quite often for blood tests, doctor appointments, and hospital stays. Some nurses already recognize you. This has been your reality for a year already. Your health has been a big mess even though it’s been the case for almost 10 years. Lately, it simply hasn’t been easy in between seizures caused by your epilepsy and the hormonal dysfunction coming from Hashimoto’s disease. 

Hashimoto’s disease is an autoimmune disease in which your thyroid doesn’t work properly. It doesn’t produce enough thyroid hormones. On top of that, your immune system attacks your thyroid. There is of course a treatment helping your thyroid to work properly. So, in summary, the treatment has to always be working otherwise everything gets out of control. 

Growing up with all that wasn’t simple, especially since you have never accepted being epileptic. Most of the time, it makes you feel like a failure so you don’t mention it to people unless it’s necessary. You don’t want anyone to look at you or treat you differently. You want to be seen as a normal person. But you’re not a normal person, and that’s what is complicated to accept. 

So you work a lot, sometimes way too much. You wonder if it’s not due to the fact that you’re a people-pleaser. But in general, you just work too much to compensate for your differences. Those health issues have a lot of impact, especially on your memory. For example, it’s hard for you to remember conversations. Most of the time, people have to repeat several times the same thing for you to remember it. 

At the hospital entrance, you notice Yseult, Taehyung’s sister. She’s coming out of the car to enter the building. You discreetly watch her. She looks a lot like her older brother, it’s evident that they are siblings. She also breathes money from afar, she also has that powerful aura. It seems like it’s a family thing. Before entering, she quickly scans her surroundings, almost as if she doesn’t want to be seen. It instantly arouses your curiosity. Why is she acting like that? 

Instantaneously, you grab your phone to text Nari. 

To Nari: Yseult is at the hospital & acting weird 

You wait until Taehyung’s sister enters the building before doing the same. Well, you can’t spy on her because you have an appointment but you’re for sure very very curious. 

From Nari: she’s probably just doing a check-up 

She’s right. It’s nothing, it’s simply your imagination. But it still leaves you wondering why she was acting like that. 

Later that night, while falling asleep, you see again Taehyung so close to your face. However, you chase away those thoughts because that man has been annoying you more than anything else.

[pokegalla]

Haven’t watched this in awhile but I hope I do this some justice!

Request/trade from @neko-rose888

How do the bad sanses (+ Dream) deal with an S/o just like Yor Forger?

Dust:

* You two are literally the quiet duo. You would think that’s a bad thing right? Nah. Introverts just have their own way of communicating. So he actually understands you best. Which much to your relief helps you a lot.

* Now seeing you in battle is a whole ‘nother story. He didn’t think you had it in you. Even under the hoodie you can see his eyes go wide as you easily take down a group of strong men easily- you just earned this man’s instant affection-

* But if there’s one thing he’s more terrified of, it’s your cooking. He doesn’t panic but he’s pretty creative on getting rid of the evidence. Thank god he can teleport this away. No offense to you…he just can’t do it. But at least he’s discreet so he doesn’t hurt your feelings.

* To him you are a beautiful strong and independent woman…and he’ll protect you even in the shadows.

Killer:

* He thought you were the cutest damn thing ever. Teasing you with sweet words and gentle gestures to flirt and see your face turn red. Stars he can never get over that sight.

* But man seeing you in action just makes him fall in more love. Fighting side by side as people drop down to the floor as you dance together with your blades? Can he really think of anything more romantic than this?

* Your cooking is one thing he’s a little….scared of. He still eats it. He loves you that much! But man his nonexistent stomach hurts so much- worth it-🥲

* He still loves you though. His perfect thorn princess…he’ll be sure to dance again with you

Horror:

* Ironically both of you are pretty similar: both of you are absolutely precious but a little terrifying if necessary- Horror is like a big ol teddy bear who likes to tail you around to make sure you don’t hurt yourself and you make sure he’s ok too!

* But man both of you are RELENTLESS in battles. Downright chilling to the bone (pun intended-) with your cold glares and shocking strength. The switch up even makes the others nervous-

* But nothing more terrifying then Horror actually eating your cooking without any hesitation and even asking for seconds- thanks to him, you strive to do better in your cooking!

* He can’t help but have a soft spot for you. Just please do be careful. He worries a lot….

Error:

* Don’t let this tsundere act bullshit you- he finds you annoying but speaks up for you instantly? That man will glare anyone down if they try to take advantage of you-

* And despite being a little surprised at how capable you are in battle, he does still watch over you and assists you anyway he can. What? He knows you’re still a klutz. He’s not wanting to have to swoop in and save you because YOU aren’t paying attention- (he was being a worrywart-)

* He doesn’t really eat anything other than his chocolate bars but you swear someone has been tampering with your cooking….oh well. It does seem to taste better now!

* He might be a little jackass but that’s only because that’s what he wants you to see. He’s no softie dammit-!

Nightmare:

* He hired you for your services as your reputation exceeded you. But he was…not expecting someone so…well soft. He thought it was a facade but nope- purely that is your true character. Which was odd to him….could someone this innocent really do anything useful?

* Oh man but you shut him up with your actions. Your speed, your elegant skills, your raw power, he was mesmerized by it all. Could you really be the same gullible quiet girl….? Well you’ve earned his respect.

* With cooking, he actually helps you. At first you spoon feed him a taste and instead of panicking at the taste, he gives you an honest opinion, some advice, and even a cook book for you to follow. He does linger longer than he should have….

* He can’t help the soft spot that’s grown so fond of you. He’s hesitant but he can’t ignore how nice it feels to be with you….

Dream:

* He heard rumors of your deeds and wanted to put a stop to you. But when he first saw you…well he didn’t expect you to be so reserved. And kind. And sweet….he actually heard your story and you gained his empathy as he understood how you would feel the need to work hard for your sibling’s sake.

* He doesn’t agree with your work but he doesn’t stop you. Because he knows how important this is for you. But expect him to constantly make sure you’re ok and ready to heal you if necessary.

* As for cooking, he usually ends up cooking with you. Mostly because he smelled your cooking and was a little…concerned. But he decided to make this kinda like a fun dating activity while he teaches you! And oh how fun it was. You both couldn’t stop giggling.

* He really cherishes you and despite living different lives, you both make it work….

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

My Sister’s Keeper

Dean went to hell and Sam left his little sister (16/17 yo) to fend for herself. Dean gets back and he is pissed with Sam and they have to find her. Fluff

Warnings- swearing, angst, fluff lol

A/N- I kind of changed the way Dean was brought back. Instead of going right to Bobby he found Sam first. Let me know if you think I should do a part 2?

“She’s a fucking kid Sam,” Dean let out an angry yell. He couldn’t believe that Sam had ditched their baby sister when she needed him the most. His heart ached as he thought about the times he reassured her that when he was in Hell she would always have Sam and that he would take care of her. He knew that she still wasn’t convinced and it made leaving so much harder, but he had no choice. After all, Dean had raised her and Sam had left them both multiple times. His heart panged when he thought about where she could be all alone. The look of horror on his face when he came to realization, “A young girl at that!” Dean grimaced. God forbid someone touched a hair on her head, they would be dead and Dean would make sure of it. He couldn’t imagine his baby sister alone and scared fending for herself. Sure she was tough, but she was just a kid and he knew her better than she knew herself. He knows that when she claims she’s okay after a hunt, its clear she isn’t as her body betrays her words and she trembles until he or Sam rub her back and let her know that she’s safe. It doesn’t take an idiot to notice the flash of panic on her face after a door slams or a loud noise is heard. Or when they have to calm her down during a panic attack or comfort her in the middle of the night during a nightmare. Or the way she clings to Sam or Dean’s shirt every night when she falls asleep. She was tougher than hell, but at the end of the day she’s just a kid who was forced to live this life. Dean looked at Sam and saw the look of regret that filled his face. “You better fucking find her Sam or I swear to God,” Dean trailed off grabbing his phone to call Bobby, putting it on speaker phone. The phone rang a few times until Bobby picked up, “Hello?” “Hey Bobby it’s Dean, have you heard from Y/N,” Dean asked as he shot a look at Sam. Bobby replied, “I talked to her last week and she said her and Sam were getting close finding you a way out,” Sam’s heart panged as he realized that she told Bobby he was with her so no one would worry about her. She never wanted to be a bother to anyone and he felt even worse knowing she was trying everything in her power to get Dean back while he ran off with a demon. Something that none the less probably cost her her soul. He should have been with her and he will never forgive himself for leaving. But he thought he was doing the right thing in the moment. Now looking back at it he wasn’t sure how he thought that because right now he was terrified at the thought of her being alone or worse, hurt. Sam’s emotions were interrupted by Bobby speaking again, “And I can see that it worked. Welcome back boy.” “Thanks Bobby, do you have an address of where she might be?” Dean replied. Bobby hummed “No, but I have a town.” Dean let out a sign of relief. He grabbed the keys and turned to Sam, “You better hope she’s safe Sam. Let’s go.”

They got into the car and Dean took off. They were about 3 hours out from the town that Bobby sent over. Luckily it was a pretty small town and there was one motel that they could pretty much pinpoint where she could be staying. The car ride was agonizingly quiet and Sam was forced to be stuck in his thoughts on how awful of a brother he’s been. He was too worried about killing Lilith while she was too busy trying to find a way to bring Dean back. He was fucking selfish and he should have been focused on his only living sibling left that was trying to bring back their other non living sibling. He decided to break the silence, “Dean I’m so fucking sorry, I screwed up man and I screwed up bad. I’ll never fucking forgive myself.” Dean scoffed, “Yeah you shouldn’t be able to forgive yourself Sam. She’s just a kid, I don’t understand how you could EVER leave her like that. She needed you the most and you left her. We don’t even know if she’s alive,” Dean gripped the steering wheel and pressed the gas harder thinking the worst possible scenario. He continued, “She found a way to bring me back and we know how that story ends Sam.” Sam filled to the brim with guilt, “I’ll fix everything, I promise Dean, I won’t let anything else happen to her.” The car went back to silence as both brothers continued to hope their baby sister was alright.

It was around 1am when they finally arrived at the motel. The engine roared as Dean turned the car off. They got out and hurried to the front desk. “Hi. how can I help you?” The man behind the desk asked. They both pulled out their FBI badges and stated who they were looking for. The guy pointed them to a room and they rushed to what they were hoping was Y/N’s room. She’s always been a light sleeper so when Dean started to pick the lock to her door, she immediately heard it. Her heart dropped and she grabbed her knife to give her a fighting chance against her intruders. She quickly glided across the motel room and put her back against the wall. It was pitch black, but she could make out two figures. One was much taller than the other, but they were both pretty big which made her gulp. There was no one way she could take on the both of them and she knew that. They picked the lock with ease and started to make their way into her room. They took a few steps in and that’s when Y/N charged at them. The taller one of the two immediately turned around and just before she could make contact with him, he grabbed her. She immediately dropped her knife as he pinned her wrist back and slammed her against the wall. She let out a yelp and braced her head for impact, but instead of feeling the hard wall against her head it was the palm of a hand. She was confused, but she still whimpered terrified. “Please,” she cried, “please don’t hurt me.” As she pleaded, the light to the motel room flicked on and she was finally able to make out the person in front of her. “Hey hey it’s alright,” it was Sam. “Sammy,” she whimpered. Still clearly dazed, confused, and frightened. Sam loosened his grip on his sister and wrapped his large arms around her small frame, “Yeah, hey shhhh bug I got you. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She cried, flinging her arms around him and holding him tight like he could disappear at any moment. To be fair, he could disappear at any moment and he did. They stayed like that for a few moments before rage took over her. She pulled away, crying and started hitting him. “How could you Sam,” she cried. Slapping his chest and hitting him over and over again, “How could you fucking leave me. I-I needed you Sam. I needed you and you left me,” she sobbed. She was weak with exhaustion, but Sam let her hit him because he deserved every single blow even if it barely hurt him.

Dean stood back watching his little sister. He was taken aback by how fragile she looked. She definitely lost weight as she was much skinnier. He noticed dark heavy bags under her eyes like she had been crying every single day for months straight. He couldn’t take it anymore, his sister was clearly suffering and he wasn’t around to help her. In fact, no one was around to help her. He couldn’t watch her crumble any longer so he came up behind her and embraced her. He pinned her frailing arms down with his and held her in a tight hug from behind. She fought against him, crying when Dean calmly spoke, “Hey hey hey Y/N/N I’m going to need you to relax for me alright?” She stood frozen, “De?” “Yeah, I got you sweetheart, I got you. I’m so sorry,” He released his hold as she turned around and launched herself onto him. Dean wrapped his arms around her and she gripped onto Deans shirt for dear life. She whimpered, “De I was so scared.” Dean felt his heart drop even further, “I know kid, I know. Shhhh it’s okay, I’m here. I got you.” Dean tightened his grip on her and rested his clenched jaw on her head shooting Sam a look. Sam watched them both, feeling sick to his stomach. How could he have done this to his baby sister? This is no life for a kid. He knew that too and that’s why the pit in his stomach only grew bigger. A sob interrupted Sam’s thoughts as Y/N’s emotions began to escalate. He watched as she collapsed, falling into their older brothers arms. Dean quickly sunk to the floor with her as her breathing hitched. He could feel her heart hammering against her rib cage and knew he needed to get her out of her panicked state before she passed out. “Hey hey hey hey Y/N/N breathe for me sweetheart, breathe.” She felt her chest start to tighten which frightened her even more. Her breathing was erratic at this point and she dug her finger tips into deans arms. “Hey kid, you’re having a panic attack okay? It’s alright. I’ve got you. You’re safe okay?” She nodded still trembling, still gasping. He repositioned her so she was sitting in between his legs with her back pressed against him to feel the rise and fall of his chest. “I need you to breathe with me. Can you do that sweetheart?” Dean felt her nod and continued “Yeah? Okay. We’re going to breathe out for 10. Come on bug 10…9…8…7…” She matched Dean’s breath which ended up hitching on 7. Dean reached down to rub her arms, “Keep going kid. You got it. 3…2…1…” He walked her through breathing in and out a few more times until he felt satisfied enough to where he knew she wouldn’t pass out. He sighed in relief, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her head, “That’s it sweetheart, I got you.” He could still feel her heart pounding though so he pulled her onto his lap like he did when she was a child and ran his fingers through her hair. “It’s alright, I’m here now and I’m not leaving. You’re safe with me kiddo. I’ve got you.”

She sat on the floor with Dean for what felt like hours while he comforted her. Eventually Sam made his way over unable to see his baby sister hurt any longer. He sat down and brushed her hair away from her face, “I’m so sorry bug. You have every right to be upset with me. I let you down and I caused you so much pain. I just thought I was doing the right thing for all of us. If I could go back in time, I would change it. I’m so incredibly sorry for everything, but I’m here now and I’m not leaving you ever.” Sam let a few tears escape his eyes. Y/N reached to grab his hand, “I forgive you Sammy. I’m sorry for hitting you.” Sam chuckled. His baby sister was too nice for her own sake. “I deserved it,” he said. She shot her head back up and looked between her two brothers. “How did you get out?” She asked, not knowing if she really wanted to know the answer. She was scared that a crossroads demon finally took Sam up on his offer for his soul. Her heart rate picked up again while she waited for her brothers to give her an answer. “I don’t know how I got out. I thought it was either you or Sam who figured it out, but Sam didn’t,” he trailed off looking at her with worried eyes. She blinked, “No it wasn’t me. I tried Dean, I tried so hard to save you. I- I tried. I’m so sorry. I-I couldn’t figure it out.” Dean’s face softened, “Hey sweetheart it’s okay. Thank you, but I wish it wasn’t put on you in the first place. I would have never wanted this for you. I’m so sorry.” He could tell she was filled with so much guilt when she shouldn’t be. It crushed him and he rubbed her arm, “I’m here now.” Y/N had so many questions, but all she knew was that she was back with her brothers and that’s all that mattered to her. She was exhausted and eventually let the darkness flow over her. “Get some rest kid, we’ll be here when you wake up,” she heard Dean say. She could finally sleep peacefully knowing she had both of her brother back.

[poppystheories]

Tyki’s reaction to being slapped fascinates me. This guy gets slapped by a helpless exorcist that's fully at his mercy and he kinda likes it. It wasn’t a weak slap either! Despite the state Allen’s in, it left a mark! But Tyki just laughs it off. Settles down to chat. Lights himself a cigarette.

Let’s face it. It’s charming.

I really like the contrast between Allen’s first meeting with Road and his first meeting with Tyki. Road had no intention of killing Allen from the start, and she wasn't really there to destroy any Innocence, but she gets incredibly rough with him: nailing his arm to the wall, stabbing his eye out, making a pincushion out of him with her candles. She fully delights in the bodily harm.

Tyki’s here to kill Allen and destroy his Innocence. That’s already decided. But he doesn’t brutalize him at any point.

Because Tyki's so casual, you keep thinking: hey, Allen’s going to get out of this totally fine. Someone is going to show up and save him. Lenalee should be looking for him. We haven’t seen the others in a while, so they must be on their way. Someone is going to arrive in the nick of time to save Allen, and everything’s going to be fine. We still have to get to Japan, after all.

But no one comes.

The scene progresses. Tyki keeps talking, he shows off his power a bit, tries to play with Allen like he played with the others. Tries to make him scared, maybe beg a little. He’s fooling around with the prey he’s already caught, like a cat.

But Allen's not scared, and Tyki backs off. The actual physical torture isn't the appeal for him, so if his victim isn't scared there's no reason to get violent.

So now you're thinking, wow, this guy is gonna regret taking his time when someone finally arrives! What a classic villain fumble; failing your mission because you were too busy monologuing.

But no one comes.

Tyki pulls out the card the Earl gave him. And you find out Tyki’s been searching for Allen. Specifically.

That’s bad, but it's okay. It'll be fine. Someone is going—

You turn the page, and Tyki is ripping Allen’s arm off. No warning, no posturing. One second Allen is fine—someone is going to save him, any second now, Tyki hasn’t even hurt him yet—and the next Allen’s fucking Innocence is on the forest floor.

Tyki keeps talking, smiling. Nothing about his demeanor has changed.

He destroys Allen's Innocence. Like it's nothing.

And at this point, you start to realize, maybe no one is coming. Or if they are, it’s already too late.

Tim gets sent away. He can go get help. But, now Allen’s truly alone with the assassin sent to kill him—if anyone’s coming, it has to be now! Where is everyone?!

Right on cue, you finally get to see the other characters.

And they’re still on the fucking ship.

Then maybe Lenalee—

No. Lenalee’s also at the ship. Tyki has his hand hovering over Allen’s chest and Lenalee’s at the goddamn ship.

No one is coming, you realize. No one was ever coming.

And just like that, Tyki kills Allen. Intimately, with a smile. He wants it to be slow, but quiet. He wants Allen to feel how helpless he really is.

Tyki's a serial killer: we've seen him stage his victims before, like leaving Daisya hanging like some kind of grisly ornament. We saw the state he left the General in.

Allen, however, gets more artistic treatment; he's by the far the favorite of Tyki's victims so far, and Tyki doesn't want to disturb the pretty picture he's already made too much, but it needs a little extra flair, doesn't it? A more personal touch.

So he scatters his own gift to Allen over him: a little something to suit his white hair and black coat and red scars, and the last thing we see is the black crescent of despair. Put there quite deliberately; it is not a typical image to appear on a Joker card.

Volume 6 ends, just like that.

It really is a merciless ending. You can't believe that the protagonist will really die here, but even if he somehow survives, his Innocence has been destroyed. The entire scene is built around your expectations as a reader that the protagonist can't die, so someone will save him, or there will be some other interference.

But no. No one was ever coming to save Allen; not this time.

And that? That has consequences.