#how can you make the confession hurt more

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Ooo Yay! I can't wait to see what you thought about this UNHINGED fic 😂

On one hand, perfect makeout music. On the other hand, Dean is SOOOO freakin' jealous, but it's so frustrating that pushing down his own feelings for her has resulted in him being such a dick to her, before and during this moment. 😫😫

Oh yes, definitely setting the mood for the reader and Ben in the back seat lol. We all know that Dean has probably pulled the same thing in the past 😆 Dean is VERY jealous and it's only pushing the reader away from him more, but he can't stop it. He's stuck in a vicious cycle that is turning into one of Dante's circles of hell when Ben showed up LOL.

*snorts* I love both of these analogies. 🤣

Thank you! I was like... what else has a roadtrip in it? 😂

Deaaaaaan you complete and utter idiot!! What's even worse is that she did feel that spark with him when they first met, until he opened his big dumb mouth lmao.

He really has pushed down his feelings, a few people have pointed out to me that Dean is acting like the playground bully who likes a girl but can't express it in a healthy way and that is one million percent what's happening here lol. The reader did like him when they first met, but again he just didn't express his feelings in a healthy way and now he has to sit and watch Ben and the reader make out in the back seat of his car 😂

Lol sounds like the Winchester Way to me. 🫠

Absolutely 👏🏻 The reader is basically the male version of Dean tbh. Except she shoved down her feelings and then went to sleep with someone who looked exactly like Dean 🤣 Because that was also healthy right? lol

My heart was so torn throughout this entire fic, you have no idea!! The way she manages to pacify him loll. So sweet and sexy in a way, but also, you get the sense that she thinks Ben might just see her as a pretty face, even if he does care about her deep down? It makes you wonder where her heart is truly going to lie at the end of all this angsty love-triangle goodness.

Mine was too! I literally kept going back and forth from Ben to Dean, trying to figure out who she should be with. Because she has incredible chemistry with Ben and she understands him in a way that I think he's not used to. And on the other hand Dean understands her because she's a hunter, he's just being a stubborn idiot 🤣

AND you're right! The reader thinks that Ben only sees her as a pretty face at the moment. She doesn't understand that he has started to develop feelings for her. But I think that the reader also believes that Ben has the possibility to become more than just someone she sleeps with. That he could love her if she let him and if she loved him.

Oh my God this part was completely unhinged and it was hilarious! But the way Ben decides to "get rid of her" is unfortunately on-brand, not caring enough about the collateral damage, the risk of the reader getting hurt. 💔 Even though he does check on her afterwards, the way Dean protected her has my heart swinging back to him and melting in a whole different way!! 😫 Gah! This is so conflicting! loll don't do this to me, friend. 😂😂 I need to dive right into Part 3 so I get to see what happens between her, Ben, and Dean, and just who will confess their feelings first...

Yes see, I went to see Wicked with my friends the weekend before I wrote this and you have no idea how much I love the OC Iris that I made for this fic. I was also thinking "how many references to How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days can I put in one fic?" lol. I was sad that I had to kill her- but it had to be done. There needed to be a dramatic moment where Dean chose to save the reader and give the reader a little bit of doubt about Ben and also show the way he is (unfortunately). But Ben coming to check on the reader literally put me on the fence all over again because he was being soft for her 😭

I'm so sorry to do that to you my friend!! But admit it, you love the angst lmao 💞😉

Thank you so much for all your comments my lovely friend! I always love to hear what you think! And I can't wait to read what you think of Part 3! 💗

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

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[aithusarosekiller]

Lily Evans would be the only person who understood Jegulus if James told everybody about it after it ended due to the war. I think he'd tell them because the urge to confess grew too strong and he just needed to let it out in the hopes it would make the anger and disappointment go away. So he spills and then 'causally' leaves the room and Lily is the only one to follow him.

Because she GETS it. And everyone else would likely tell her to avoid him because they didn't want her getting involved in 'his mess' because they thought it was his fault for picking such a terrible person, but she wouldn't listen. She doesn't want to comfort him, she just wants to talk and relate.

Because finally she has somebody she can talk to about her own experiences with a boy who said he would change and stay by her side but didn't. Finally she can talk to somebody who understands what it's like to cling onto the idea of someone when you realise your values are getting more and more distant. She knows what it's like to have to cut contact because he took it way too far. And not only is that how James is able to mature, it's how the two of them get closer. Because nobody else understands them. Whenever she tries to talk to her friends they get that silent look of pity in their eyes and she can't stand it; she's never been able to mourn her best friend because they keep reminding her of who he is now. Because they care about her but they don't UNDERSTAND why she's still hurt. And James understands that, and he begins to understand why Lily was so close to Severus, finally.

Lily could say she wished they still hung out all summer and James would finally understand what she meant. James could say he wanted one last hug and Lily would get it.

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ too late to speak .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Azul Ashengrotto x gn! reader

𓏵 879 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, no pronouns used, unestablished relationship with reader, angst, hurt/no comfort

might give this a part 2 with a happy ending if I feel like it or anyone asks (-ω-；) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Azul always knew you were kind.

Not just polite or charming, but truly, genuinely kind. The kind of person who greeted everyone by name, who asked how their day was and actually listened to the answer. The kind of person who saw past his sharp businessman’s smile, his smooth-talking arrogance, and treated him as if he was worth more than just a contract.

But that was just how you were with everyone.

He told himself that, over and over again. That you were just friendly. That there was nothing special about the way you spoke to him, that he was foolish for thinking he meant anything more to you than the next student you happened to befriend.

So he waited.

Waited for a sign. For proof that you might see him the way he saw you. Because Azul Ashengrotto didn’t take risks he couldn’t afford to lose, and losing you—the idea of you rejecting him, looking at him with pity—was something he could never gamble on.

So he said nothing.

And in turn, neither did you.

You used to think Azul would be the one to confess first.

He was strategic, after all—always had a plan, always thought five steps ahead. If he wanted something, he found a way to get it. And for a while, you let yourself believe that maybe, maybe, you were something he wanted, too.

You caught the way he lingered whenever you spoke, how his usually quick-witted tongue tripped over itself when you leaned a little too close. The way his gaze softened when he thought no one was looking.

You noticed it all. And it made your heart race, made your stomach twist in that agonizing, hopeful way.

But Azul never acted. Never said a word.

So, eventually, you convinced yourself you had imagined it.

That if he truly wanted you, he would have done something by now.

That maybe, despite the way you thought he looked at you, despite the way you wanted him to look at you—he never actually felt the same.

But you had to be sure.

So you tested him.

"Azul, I need your help."

He looked up from his ledger, barely registering your words at first. He had spent the past hour going over the Lounge’s weekly earnings, making adjustments, analyzing profit margins—but all of that became meaningless the moment you stepped into his office.

You were smiling. You always smiled.

"Of course," he said smoothly, placing his pen down. "What can I do for you?"

You hesitated, shifting on your feet. That wasn’t like you. You were usually so confident when asking him for favors, teasing him about his endless contracts and over-the-top business plans.

This time, though, you looked... nervous.

"I... well, you know I’ve been spending a lot of time with—" you said a name. Azul barely heard it. His mind had already started ringing, a dull roar drowning out the sound of your voice.

No. No, no, no.

Not that name. Not them.

"I think I like them, Azul," you admitted, fingers gripping the hem of your uniform. "And I—I want to tell them. But I don’t know how to do it without making a fool of myself."

Your heart was pounding. It was humiliating, really, standing here, asking him of all people for help with this.

Because you weren’t just asking for advice. You were waiting. Watching.

For the slightest change in his expression. A flicker of something—anything—that might prove you hadn’t been wrong.

That all those moments weren’t just in your head.

That Azul wanted you.

But Azul didn’t react.

He blinked once, his expression unreadable, and then—he smiled.

The same careful, practiced smile you had seen him use a hundred times before.

"I see," he said, voice perfectly even. "Well, that is quite the dilemma."

A laugh escaped you—light, relieved. That was that, then.

It was never real, was it?

Azul had never liked you the way you liked him.

His throat closed up. His hands curled into fists beneath his desk.

You—you were asking him for advice on how to confess to someone else.

He should’ve seen this coming. He did see this coming, deep down. But he had been too much of a coward to act. Too afraid of rejection to reach for the one thing he wanted more than anything.

And now?

Now you were asking him to help you love someone else.

He couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.

"Azul?" Your voice was so soft, so sweet. So unfair.

He forced himself to smile. To laugh.

To play the part of the perfect, unaffected friend.

And when you beamed at him, oblivious, he knew—he had already lost.

You had your answer.

It stung. More than you wanted to admit.

But at least now you knew.

At least now, you wouldn’t spend another second waiting for something that was never going to come.

You smiled at Azul, one final test, but he didn’t hesitate. He launched into his usual confident spiel, offering you advice like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t crushing your chest with every word.

And for the first time, you really believed him.

Azul didn’t want you.

Not like that.

And if that was the case, then maybe moving on really was the right choice.

[thepenultimateword]

Types of Confessions : Public Confession

CW: Murder

“I love you!”

For a moment, the entire street seemed to go quiet. Cameras whirred from behind blockades. Nervous feet scraped the asphalt as police shifted, attention briefly moving from Supervillain to the battered hero who had just thrust their way into the line of fire.

Supervillain could only stare, the edge of their knife pressed to the Director’s throat. Just a smidge more pressure, and he’d bleed like the pig he was.

But there was Hero, breathing hard, hair sweaty and ragged in their face, costume in tatters. Supervillain had sent several of the syndicate to hold onto them until this business was over, but apparently they didn’t compare to a legal power user when they really wanted something.

“Don’t do it,” Hero said, stumbling forward another step. They were bleeding through one leg of their leggings. “You do it, and every officer here shoots you down. Or they catch you and dissect your brain until they figure out what went wrong. Why you can still hurt people.”

Supervillain raised their brow. “And if I do stop? What? Mr. Director here forgets I ever threatened him?”

Hero took another step. “I made a deal. I-if you stop. We can leave. Together. They won’t stop you. You don’t have to be trapped in this city anymore. You don’t have hide.”

Supervillain could feel the director’s shoulders relax a little. He was confident that Supervillain would take this out. Exchange all his bitterness for a happy ending.

“This is my magnum opus,” Supervillain said. What I’ve built my career on. You want me to give it up?”

“I love you!”

“Why should that matter?”

Hero choked.

The director stiffened.

“This isn’t about me. This is about you. This is about us. And everyone this city exploits. And crushes. And pushes under the rug. This place is supposed to be some sort of powered utopia but it’s a scheme. And I like it better when I’m the one behind the curtain.”

“Please. Please I don’t want to lose you.”

Supervillain’s heart pounded. Hero’s words only now just soaking in. They didn’t make a difference. But they felt warm in their chest. Hopeful. Grateful. Regretful.

They might never get the chance to actually kiss them. To hold them. To go on a date with them. To tell—

They could do that part. They’d intended to never say it, but well…

“I love you too.”

“Supervillain…” Hero sounded pleading. They knew it wasn’t the sort of ‘I love you’ that expected longevity.

“We could always do both.”

“Supervillain, no wait— I don’t even know if I— This isn’t how—”

They gazed directly into Hero’s eyes. “Save me, my hero.”

Then they slit the director’s throat.

[pandaofsecrets]

This convo got me thinking about how Ozai being a good parent and husband would actually be like (and how little that would actually change things), so here's the basics of the AU. It follows comics continuity because I think it's more impactful that way, and also because I really don't want to write two AUs for the price of one.

Okay, so first of all, how do we get here? Let's say that instead of Ozai becoming narcissistic as a coping mechanism (unlikely, but bear with me), he just kinda gives up trying to "prove his worth" and distances himself from his father and brother, distrusting them and trying to avoid their attention as much as he can.

Anyway, Azulon hears about the prophecy and wants Ozai married to Ursa, which. So much for not attracting attention. Azulon's logic here is that while he does want those strong firebenders, he doesn't want any of Roku's line to actually inherit the throne. So, marrying Ursa to his out-of-favor second son it is.

Needless to say, neither Ozai nor Ursa are exactly jazzed about the marriage. They're both essentially forced into it, and Ursa was already seeing someone, thank you very much. But they both figure that it's for the good of their country and that they can't really leave anyway, so they might as well try to make it work. Ozai works to make Ursa as comfortable as possible, and she cooperates with him as much as she can. A few months or so into the marriage, Ursa is pregnant with Zuko.

This is when Ursa notices that no one is replying to her letters. No one at all. Not Ikem, not her friends, and not even her parents. Like, she knows mail is slow, but it's been almost half a year at this point. Her parents at least should've written back by now. So, she does a little detective work, and puts together that Ozai is intercepting her letters.

Unsurprisingly, Ursa is pissed. She'd just begun to like Ozai, and he went and tore her heart into confetti. Incredibly betrayed (and also hormonal as all fuck), Ursa comes up with the very smart idea of writing a letter to Ikem in which she pretty much confesses to cheating on Ozai, reasoning that would hurt him pretty bad.

As Ursa expected, Ozai gets the letter and barges into the room, demanding to know what the hell she was thinking. "I knew it!" she goes. "I knew you've been intercepting my letters!" Ozai is like "Count yourself lucky it was me. What if it was my father? How would you have even begun to explain this to him?" He goes on to remind her that she was to give up contact with everyone outside of court, including her parents. He doesn't like his father's orders any more than she does, but he has to enforce them. He then burns the letter, telling Ursa that she can see whoever she wants, do whatever she wants, but she had better not let Zuko get caught up in any of it. Ozai makes a point to call Zuko his child, both because Ursa's letter did hurt him, and as a way to imply he cares about Zuko and Ursa doesn't.

A couple of hours later, both are feeling bad about the whole debacle. Ursa goes to see Ozai, who's in the middle of his usual "dealing with his angst by training until he straight-up collapses" routine, and they have a chat. Ozai apologizes for trying to imply she doesn't care about Zuko and for putting her in this position in the first place, and admits that he should've talked to her instead of going behind her back like that. Ursa swears she wasn't trying to get them in trouble, she was just so hurt by his actions that she wasn't thinking straight. Ozai promises her he'll find a way for her to contact and maybe even see her parents, so long as she promises to try and be less reckless. She agrees.

I'm skipping around a lot over things I haven't thought of in detail, so cut to a few years later. Zuko is around 7 and has just started his firebending lessons, Azula is around 5, and everything seems to be going pretty good. And then Azula starts firebending as well. Not only that, but she turns out to be a prodigy. Oops.

Ozai being Ozai, he immediately goes for damage control. He holds back Azula's progress under the pretext that it's going to be better for her in the long run, discourages her from attracting attention, and is generally very cagey whenever the subject of her bending is brought up. This is in sharp contrast to Azulon and to her teachers, who praise her for her talents and encourage her to develop her skills. So, naturally, Azula is really confused. If she's so great, why doesn't her father ever acknowledge it? This is made worse by the fact that Ozai can't really explain to Azula why he does things the way he does. So he just comes off as an unreasonable tyrant, which is. You know. Not at all the impression he wanted Azula to have of him. He knows what it's like to be the secondborn who is disliked by their parent, he never wanted to do that to his own child. It honestly feels like the universe is out to get him at this point.

So Azula becomes increasingly recalcitrant, and Ozai resolves to just give her space for the time being, spending more time with the one child who isn't fighting him at every turn. Seeing this as a rejection, Azula takes whatever pent-up rage she can't direct at Ozai and starts directing it at Zuko, meaning Ozai is put in a position where he has to protect one of his children from the other. Ursa tries her hardest to pick up the pieces, but that just ends with Azula writing her off as well. Azula also becomes aware of the fact that Ozai and Ursa are both pretty much powerless against Azulon, and that's where the fun begins.

It's a crappy situation all around, but it's about to get worse. Lu Ten dies and Iroh is about to return home from the Siege of Ba Sing Se, so Azulon tells Ozai that he has to give Azula to Iroh. Ozai is like, yep, there it is. There's the moment I've been dreading ever since I got married. Because due to the way this whole eugenics experiment worked, his children were never truly his. Azulon's vested interest in them meant Ozai never had any control over his own family, and Zuko and Azula were always going to be taken away from him sooner or later. But before Ozai can say anything, Azulon drops the bombshell on him. He has to kill Zuko, too. Ozai is like, fuck this. He doesn't care that Zuko was a failed experiment or whatever, that's his son. But he knows by now that his father cannot be reasoned with, so he asks Azulon to wait until Iroh comes home, buying himself time to figure out what to do. Surprisingly, Azulon agrees.

Ozai then goes to Ursa and tells her the tale of what just happened. Ursa goes, yeah, no, we can't afford to wait until Iroh comes back. Because even if they did, Zuko would still die. Ozai is like, well, there's gotta be something we can do. And that's when Ursa gets an idea. She briefly considers telling Ozai, but quickly thinks better of it. Patricide is a strong word. She knows Ozai wouldn't approve, so if she wants something done, she's gotta do it herself. Instead, she just says she knows a way, and leaves Ozai to mope.

Next morning, the palace is in chaos. Azulon just kicked the bucket, Iroh is away, and everyone is looking to Ozai for leadership. Ozai has a chat with Ursa and is like "You did this, didn't you?" Ursa is all "I don't know what you're talking about", and Ozai asks her if she really thinks he's that stupid. He then encourages her to get the heck out of Dodge, because someone is definitely going to trace this back to her and then they'll all be in big trouble, her especially. Ursa counters that she's not the same reckless woman she was 8 years ago, and that she made sure to cover all her bases this time, pinning the blame on supposed Earth Kingdom assassins. They sit in silence for a bit, and then Ozai confesses he can't believe Azulon is dead, and that he doesn't know whether to be relieved or to hate Ursa for murdering him. Ursa says that everything she's done, she's done to protect her family.

So Ozai basically becomes interim Fire Lord while waiting for Iroh to come back, and he does a pretty good job, having basically been acting Crown Prince ever since he came of age (with all of the responsibility and none of the credit, because Azulon was a dick like that). From here the AU can go any number of ways, from Iroh immediately taking over as Fire Lord, to him giving up his claim to the title, to Iroh trying to give up his claim and Ozai refusing.

I don't know if I'm ever going to actually write this AU, so I'm leaving this here, I guess? Lmk what you think.

[rizzoreads88]

✨People need to realllyyyy learn the difference between the words THOUGHT and PLANNED. ✨

🦇In Azriel bonus chapters he never says he hasn’t THOUGHT further then his fantasies about Elain he says he hasn’t PLANNED further. Since some people like to act like these words are the same let’s look at the actual definition.

(Real life example of what this looks like : before I started dating my husband I liked him so much I thought about him all the time. But I never once planned to actually make a move or planned to be with him because I was way too shy lol and I thought he was out of my league at the time.Did that take away from how much I liked him? Nope. Did that take away from how much I thought about him? Nope. And here we are years later having just celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary in September)

🌸why would Azriel even be making plans for Elain yet? They are still friends at the moment that happen to be romantically interested in each other yet she is seemingly off limits. She has a mate. Rhysand reinforces this idea that she is off limits to Azriel. So why would he be making any sort of plans just to hurt himself even more feeling she is truly off limits?

🦇Now let’s look at the context of when this is said. When Azriel is talking to Rhysand he’s extremely frustrated. He’s been thinking about Elain for however long and they both made a move on each other and Rhysand stops it right before hand. Rhysand knows Azriel and Elain are interested in each other. He’s also been w Feyre as she’s talked about them a few times and he asks her not to get involved. He was there when Elain told Graysen she didn’t care about the mate bond. Everyone knows Elain is uncomfortable around Lucien. Rhysand knows Elain was about to kiss Azriel too. Not to mention Azriel has moved on from Mor a while ago and has found someone he likes that likes him back and yet again he cannot do anything about it. He sees Cassian and Rhysand with the woman they want but Azriel cannot even kiss the woman HE WANTS that wants him back…. I think we can all understand why he’s frustrated. A lot of what he’s saying is coming from frustration. Remember when Cassian was frustrated and said he didn’t ask to be shackled to Nesta? Do you think he actually meant he didn’t want to be shackled to her or was he just frustrated? Remember when Rowan told Aelin she would be better off dead and punched her in the face? Do you think he truly meant that? Or was he just speaking out of frustration? We know Azriel feels deeper for Elain. We are shown this in his bonus chapter as well…

🌸In Azriels bonus chapter we learn he thinks about Elain daily, he actually loses sleep over her. He saved her Soltice gift and looks at it every night, his razor sharp thoughts go quiet around her, he can read her without his shadows, he has a physical reaction to Eluciens mating bond and seeing her around Lucien, he questions his religion over Elain.. then days later when he’s in training around everyone he’s still upset over Elain… in acosf when cassian mentions elain and nesta fought Azriel has a reaction to it when elain is mentioned, in acosf when Nesta insults Elains personality azriel has another reaction, his shadows get ready to physically attack nesta for insulting elains personality…

🦇You do not feel all these things, do all these things, Be willing to die to get to them, then carry them while your bleeding out if you don’t care for someone. If it’s “just lust” Azriel would have tried to make a move on her long ago and left it at that. “Well it’s just crush” and what’s a crush? It’s when you like someone you are attracted too.

🦇🌸“Well he doesn’t mention having any sort of feelings for elain to rhysand in the bonus chapter” My brethren… it’s a bonus chapter. We are not going to get love or deep feelings confessions in a bonus chapter. Bonus chapters are hints at what’s in the books and hints at what’s to come. Just like in Nessians bonus chapter Cassian wasn’t professing his love to Nesta, he wasn’t thinking about how deeply he cares for her either. It was a interaction between them to show the attraction, connection and tension they had. We didn’t get their true feelings about each other until multiple books later. So obviously SJM is saving all of this for Elriels book too if they get one.

And I’m just going to end it with this. Cassian had thoughts of being jealous of rhysand and feyre and what they had too before anything happened with him and nesta… he was frustrated with how things were w nesta too before acosf and yet no one was like “oh Cassian only wants nesta because she a Archeron sister he just feels entitled to her and doesn’t really care about her”… but when azriel is jealous suddenly it’s bc he’s a desperate incel who feels entitled to women and only wants to sleep w them? Funny how that works.

[wish-i-were-heather]

can we talk about how emotionally draining it is to be a teenager who's never experienced romantic love? and i dont think people realize that when i say never, i mean never. i've never dated, never had a "talking stage," no one's had a crush on me, no one's ever asked for my number, no one's ever complimented me in that way, no one's ever even looked at me in a way that would remotely imply interest. and honestly it hurts. you see all the people around you experience this and just sit on the sidelines. it's more than just "oh no im single im jealous :(" it genuinely turns into a feeling of what am i doing wrong what did i miss why is everyone experiencing these things that i thought only happened in movies. it's not fair. and i know at the end of the day it's okay, you don't need a boyfriend/girlfriend in high school. i know that. just because i can't find a date to the prom doesn't mean i'm gonna be single forever. but it does mean that i must be doing something wrong to have never experienced anything remotely close to romance. the first time i ever "held hands" with a guy was in 9th grade when we had our swing dancing unit in pe. and the thing is that i've also never had a crush. in the 4th grade i convinced myself i liked someone because my friends kept asking who i had a crush on. i didn't actually like him. in 8th grade i convinced myself i liked someone because my mom kept asking who i had a crush on. i didn't actually like him. any "crushes" i've had i realize now are just aesthetic attraction. so im having my first crush now, in high school, and i don't know what to do. my friends are telling me "oh you should tell him you like him you should ask him out" but the problem is i literally don't know how. i've never experienced this. to me, asking someone out is what you do in a tv show. people don't actually do that... right? it just feels so weird. i can tell him i like him, but how? and when? what words do i use? what if he says he doesn't feel the same? what if i make it awkward? i don't know how to "shoot my shot" because i've never had a chance to shoot one before. i'm going into this blind and it's scary and very confusing after my entire life being nothing. i've convinced myself that no boy or girl at my school would like me in that way, so that's why i don't want to confess. if no one has ever liked me before, why would he be any different? ugh i just feel like never having any romantic experience whatsoever is very isolating and i feel like im falling behind and i don't know what im supposed to do or what i'm doing wrong.

[4lexnilsen]

“please,  don’t even mention espresso and muffins right now unless you want to make me drool all over this bar,”   alex warns with a laugh,  shaking his head in amusement because how can she possibly know that he treats himself with this exact combo after most workouts?   “i have the biggest sweet tooth.   part of why i work out so much.   otherwise,  i’d weigh three hundred pounds.”   fingers absently reaching for the glass again,  thinking this is the best drink he’s ever had and taking another sip,  savoring the sweetness of strawberries and the underlying hints of who-knows-what.   whatever it is,  it’s delicious.   “right?   bakeries smell like coffee and freshly baked bread and pastries and cinnamon while this place…   it’s something else.”   but he still nods his head in agreement.   it’s clear that this is exactly what they both need.   their usual hangout spots,  barnes and noble or the local art galleries,  wouldn’t be able to provide this kind of distraction.   “hey!   we said the same thing!   oh,  this means you’re buying the next round,”   he teases,  snapping his fingers and playfully pointing them at her.  

although upon hearing helena’s next comment,  his smile falters a little.   pale blue eyes flickering away in embarrassment,  fingers swirling the glass around,  leaving wet circles on the bar’s sticky surface.   “i’m sorry about that.   i don’t know what possessed me to make that comment.   no,  on a second thought,  i know exactly what possessed me…”   he sighs,  unsure why his tongue’s suddenly completely untied,  seemingly uncontrollable.   he finds himself confessing things that have never seen the light of day.   “i don’t know how you do it,  helena,  but you seem to be able to see right through me.   it’s actually scary how well you seem to understand me.   the things you’ve said earlier…”   about him being a broken little boy,  emotionally unavailable and hurting on the inside.   “they’re true.   but i’m not ready to confront those parts of myself yet so i wanted to hurt you to make you stop analyzing me.”   but that comment was so very out of line,  he can’t help but be embarrassed now.

“oh,  i didn’t even realize.   sorry.”   mumbling as he moves his hand away,  he attempts to rub his palms together to warm them up a bit.   “your braid’s all crooked now.   did that witch pull on it or something?”   looks like it.   falling silent when she touches his bottom lip,  shivers racing up his spine,  electric currents running through his veins.   he blushes like a schoolboy and doesn’t even flinch,  swallowing any whines and hisses that threaten to escape him.   it hurts,  but is so strangely intimate that the butterflies in his stomach take flight once more.   pale blue eyes studying first helena’s hands,  then her own lips,  and stopping once they find her own doe-like hues.   he’d drown in them in a heartbeat if it weren’t for her voice,  pulling him out of this haze.   god,  what’s wrong with him?   “thank you.”   the cut is still pulsing,  but he’s no longer bleeding and the stinging sensation as he speaks isn’t quite so intense now.   “let me do something for you in return.”   he slides off the stool and stands behind her,  fingers carefully undoing her braid,  combing through dark curls,  figuring fixing her hair is the least he can do.

“well, i’m boring like that too. i prefer cafes and bakeries over bars. why not? bakeries have coffee— espresso and muffins, bars have…” taking one look around, “cigarette stench and greasy armpits.” nose scrunches slightly as she covers her nose to the irritating STENCH that makes her sinuses feel disturbed, she’d finally happily agree she’s being stuck up. “but tonight’s the exception, i needed this as a distraction.” reassuring she’s enjoying being out of her element to forget the idea of harry. right as she’s saying she needed to be out of her element ALEX is saying he’s out of his that causes her to look up in surprise . . . as if he’s reading her mind. how can they be so alike at times then completely opposite? “i guess when you said i needed to screw harry, harry needed to screw someone else.” hating it makes her re-upset at him all over again for saying that to her. “the flavor is repulsive. only people that are that desperate for a buzz actually like it.” mumbling as she’s digging around in the first aid, seeing her bow land on the table and his hand touch her face again. “hey! your fingers are cold and— my bow!” not realizing it was about to fall out. “i’m just…” shrugging one shoulder, emotions clouding her gaze as she lightly taps the cut on his lip, keeping her eyes glued there. “good to everyone, no matter what. that’s just the way i am. the way i believe.” unfortunately. but at least she has her guard up, she won’t be letting him in just because she’s showing this act of kindness now. she can still be the bigger person, without letting him in. “if i want to be a doctor, i can’t be choosy who my patients are.” raven haired girl teases, even if there’s truth to that. “that should keep it from getting infected, help cut the healing time down.” a small smile before she turns to wipe her hands on a napkin, now shifting to opening her makeup box, grimacing at what a pennywise sister’s look she does have going on. she’ll start with a makeup wipe, getting rid of the mascara down her cheeks, cleaning that up then her smeared lipstick. cleaning it all the way so she can just restart reapplying with red lip liner then filling it in with dior’s red lipstick.

[babybearnation]

How 'bout red sighted bearnelli with Aron!male reader who's their soulmate but is completely oblivious to their advances unless its a straight up to his face confession, the problem though is that both kimi and ollie are cowards and won't just tell reader and that paul is now threatening to tell reader himself that their his soulmates, the reason paul is threatening them though is that they'd both promised to tell reader when they both got into f1 if they hadn't already told reader before then, but now its half way through the 2025 season and they still haven't told him.

Sorry if it too long bbbear i can send something else in if you don't want to do this one.

–🍑

hopefully you meant non sighted!reader with this ask haha - also i couldnt find a way to incorporate it into the story, but paul is string sighted!

red sighted!established!bearnelli x non sighted!gn!aron!reader

ollie and kimi had gotten together not long after the start of the 2024 formula 2 season

they'd seen the strings tying them together, but even if they hadn't seen them, the two of them were very drawn together

of course, both were curious about where the extra string both of them had lead to but they didn't care too much to go hunting for their third

until paul brought his two siblings along to a race one day

ollie & kimi were already familiar with ralf, but you... you were new

and you were their missing link

paul figured out rather quickly that you were kimi and ollie's other soulmate and he told them to be careful with you as you were non sighted and were also very oblivious

kimi and ollie panicked at that because they were both too shy and awkward to talk to you, especially if they had to tell you they were your soulmates

paul, ever determined to do what's best for his friends and his siblings, brings you along to more races, introducing you to ollie & kimi and encouraging a friendship between you three

and you love it! you, kimi and ollie get along so well!

when pushed by paul as to why they haven't done anything yet, kimi and ollie make a promise - if they both get into f1, they'll tell you

in the meantime, ollie and kimi flirt with you, dropping hints about soulmates and red sight and being with you except all of it goes over your head because you're that oblivious

so when kimi gets his seat announced, ollie & kimi tell paul that they're changing their plan - they'll tell you the truth once the 2025 f1 season starts

paul sighs but accepts it, now also dropping hints about you being with kimi & ollie and dating the pair of them and soulmates and stuff

but then the start of the 2025 f1 season happens and ollie and kimi avoid you throughout the entire australian grand prix weekend

you're a bit hurt but you assume it's just because its the first grand prix of their rookie seasons and therefore they must be busy and focused

things seems to be back to normal during the chinese grand prix, but paul is absolutely furious with kimi & ollie

they promised. and they didn't do it.

paul keeps pressuring them and it doesn't work until finally, during the british grand prix, paul decides he's had enough and he gets the three of you in the same room and tells the truth about everything

you're shocked... you hadn't expected kimi and ollie to keep such a secret from you

when they explain that they were shy, though, you can't help but find them cute and instead turn your ire towards your brother

paul ends up being (playfully) yelled at by you before you happily go back to kimi and ollie, cuddling them

paul is just glad that everything is finally sorted, to be honest

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[princesseddiediazz]

Idea for a post-canon Destiel set up. It's long so bear with me but I'm never gonna write this but if someone else wants to or takes some inspiration from this-- feel free to do so. Castiel is saved from the Empty. One day, maybe a month after trying to get him back-- Jack just plops him into the Bunker. One little hiccup tho: Cas is human. Temporarily at least. Jack couldn't get Cas out of the Empty as is bc the entity had its hooks in him deep. And Jack thought the simplest thing to do was to cut Cas' grace out of him. You can't keep Castiel if he's a human. Jack plans to replace Cas' grace once he has a better grasp of his God Powers. Promises Cas will be extra-charged up eventually but for now, he'll have to remain human for the time being and has to chill with Sam and Dean in the bunker. And Dean's cool with that. He's been wanting Cas back for ages since the black goo swallowed him up. Only there's one problem that's screaming in Dean's head. He doesn't love Cas back.

Look, Dean cares about Cas so much. Cas is one of the most important people in the world to Dean and he wasn't gonna be able to live without Cas and function normally. That being said, that's just normal friendship stuff right? Or at least for their friendship it's normal to know that, had Cas been stuck in the Empty for eternity, Dean would have killed himself and eventually found a way to dismantle his soul. Because the thought of existence, even in death, without Cas in unbearable. BUT THAT'S NORMAL FOR FRIENDS TO FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT JUST FRIENDS! So Dean doesn't love Cas back and he's trying to be cool about it. Trying too hard to be casual about it. But it's fine enough. He cooks Cas food, they watch t.v, get updates on Jack about re-making Cas' grace, and Dean even makes Cas laugh and smile sometimes. So yeah, maybe Dean doesn't love Cas back but this might be enough. Right?

There's a hunt. Dean's hesitant on Cas going as a human but Cas says he was a soldier for a millennia, he'll be more than capable of handling his own in a fight. People are going missing and then being found weeks later, their bodies showing signs that before they died they were in deep distress. It's a monster Sam finds out tortures the victims mentally because it feeds off emotions. This one seems to feed off their victims feeling despair. Utter fucking despair. Great, Dean thinks. This will go fucking great. Cas gets caught so of course Dean goes after him. He's always gonna go after Cas. It's a shit show. They're tied up together and the monster can read human Cas' mind, no longer able to protect all his wants and desires with the shield that was his angel grace. The monster starts doing the cliche bad guy monologue and talks about it's seeing into Cas' mind and sees how badly he wants Dean.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I already know pal. You're not gonna win this." Because it can't. It won't. Cas already confessed his unrequited love to Dean and yeah, it must hurt Cas to be reminded of it. But this isn't a secret. Dean knows and the monster can't use this against them right? (wrong. So very fucking wrong)

The monster keeps pushing, keeps revealing Cas' wants. His desires. "I'm surprised an angel's thoughts could be this sinful. Or is that why you're not an angel anymore?" it mocks. And look-- Dean's not shocked by Cas wanting sex with him. Because yeah, the guy's in love with him so Dean figured there was a good chance that Cas wanted to fuck him. And who could blame him? Dean knows he's a good looking guy and well-- he can't fault Cas for that. That's easy to understand. What's not easy to understand is what the monster continues to say. Says that's not even what Cas wants most from Dean. What could Cas want from Dean more than sex? Intimacy. Not just sexual intimacy but intimacy at its purest form. The monster says it's pathetic, Cas' thoughts. How Cas secretly cherishes every moment they touch. How he's felt selfish for liking when they hug after a dangerous fight and how he's reprimanded himself for even allowing himself to like those hugs. How when he heals Dean, it was something he hated himself for liking. How now he longs for those casual moments. A touch on the shoulder, feeling Dean brush by him in the doorway, a pat on the back, etc. How Cas has only been able to fall asleep some nights since becoming human when he pretends it's Dean he's holding in his arms and not a pillow. How he pretends he's watching over and protecting him because the highest honor he'd ever be given would be to watch over and hold Dean. How Cas thinks that if he had a heaven, it would be that.

The monster reveals all of this to Dean.

Cas' eyes are shining with tears. He's not looking at Dean. He's trying so hard to hold his emotions in, to keep them from spilling out but Dean's terrified. He's only seen Cas cry twice. Once from the confession and now. This is worse. Cas is humiliated. Heartbroken. Shattered. The monster's gotten what its wanted. Cas is broken and feeling nothing but pain. It starts feeding off him and Dean has no choice but to watch, still tied up. Sam saves the day just in the nick of time. The monster gets away. Sam unties them. Dean goes to check on Cas and Cas flinches away from him. He doesn't want Dean to touch him. Not now after Dean knows how much Cas craves the touch. It's too humiliating, too revealing. Dean tries to make things okay but it's not working. He thinks maybe Cas will get over it, that they'll go back to normal in a day or two. Weeks pass and Dean is going crazy. Cas and him have had no physical contact in ages. Not since before that monster humiliated Cas and then got away. Dean puts all his anger and hurt and every emotion he's feeling into hunting that son of a bitch down. he blames the monster for Cas ignoring him. It's not just that they've not had their usual causal touches, it's that Cas is completely different around him. No more movie nights. Tries to eat at different times than Dean-- going so far as to try and learn cooking for himself. Tells Dean he's busy when he wants to hang out. It's awful. Sam tells Dean he just needs to talk to Cas but god fucking dammit he's TRIED and Cas won't give him the time of day. It's like he's lost Cas all over again. Cas won't even look at him most days. Dean wants to cry over it but doesn't let himself think it. Dean wants to find that fucker who ruined his friendship bc none of this would be happening if that emotional bloodsucking dick hadn't revealed Cas' wants to feed off his despair. Dean spends days doing nothing but tracking that monster down and he does. He goes on a hunt alone. It goes poorly. Cas kills the monster and saves the day. Dean is injured. Not enough to warrant a hospital but he's in rough shape. Cas gets him to the motel. He's trying so hard to patch him up but without his powers he can't heal Dean the way he used to. He hates not being able to help Dean more. Hates seeing his face bruised and hearing Dean wince when he shifts in the motel bed he's laying down in. All he's been able to do is put on bandages and give him water. He asks Dean what he can do to help. What can he do that will have Dean feel better because Cas hates feeling useless. Dean looks at him from the bed and asks for one simple thing.

"Hold me"

Cas is hesitant. He doesn't know what to say, if he should even do it. Because is this a pity thing. But all his reluctance goes out the window when Dean says, "please". Weak and tired. And truly just wanting to be held. How could Cas say no? He's never been a strong angel man when it comes to Dean Winchester. So he gets into the bed and holds Dean. Dean cries. It all comes out now. The emotions he's been holding in since Cas got taken. Losing Cas the first time, the second time, third, forth, fifth--- and this distance that's come between them which has felt like losing Cas in another way. It all spills over and Dean just wants Cas closer to him. Impossibly closer but it doesn't stop him from holding him tighter. He tells Cas he wants this too. That he wants to be held. To hold Cas as well. To be with him. To be together. They're better together aren't they? He doesn't even know if Cas is in love with Dean anymore, it hasn't felt like it. Dean just wants his best friend back because he's missed him desperately. But if Cas wants him-- he's got him. He's got all of him forever and always. Eternity. Death won't separate them again. Dean doesn't want 'til death do us part'. Dean wants eternity with Cas, if Cas will have him.

[kirbmey]

psycho killer zayne !

💌: this won’t suit everyone, veeeery graphic descriptions of torture, gore, etc. it was inspired by american psycho, so you get an idea. don’t like it? leave, block me, whatever.

the relationship you had with zayne was soft, quiet and intimate. he was such a sweetheart to you, truly.

for example, calling you when he had a break between surgery and surgery, checking on you and asking you the most caring questions with a lovely tender voice.

“honey, how are you? I just got out of the operating room. couldn’t stop thinking about you since I left this morning.” he confessed in a tender manner, holding the phone between his head and shoulder while he took off his surgical gloves, sitting on a random chair in an empty hallway.

you expected his calls, always. pacing around his house impatiently, dressed in his big shirts as you sat by the window, looking at the city lights from above as you two held the conversation in almost whispers.

“you shouldn’t think of me when someone’s life is at risk, silly.” you giggled softly, placing your head in the hand you rested on the window seal, viewing the streets you always walked next to your lover while holding hands. “I miss you, want you here with me.” you added with a pout taken over your lips.

the line went silent for a second as zayne started to come up with ways to excuse the reason why he wouldn’t make it home for tonight. “my dear, I miss you too, more than you can imagine. but I have to cover my colleague for the night, I won’t make it home today.” you were the silent one now, feeling the sadness you were too familiar with creep to your heart.

“I’m sorry, honey, I’ll make it up to you.” he stated after waiting for a response that never came, fidgeting with the discarded glove as he expected your sweet voice to reassure him from the other side of the line.

you shut your eyes in an attempt to make the tears roaming around your eyes disappear. “it’s fine, don’t worry. don’t forget to rest a bit and eat, please?” he hummed as a response to your request, keeping up the conversation until he has to leave, saying goodbye with a warm ‘I love you’ to which you replied the classic ‘I love you too’.

you would never know, but he was doing this for you, to protect you.

protect you from the zayne you had no relationship with at all, the one you never met. and will never meet.

you see, zayne’s always been a calm guy, so put together and collected. he always knew how to handle any complex situation, any angry patient, any of your tantrums complaining about not spending enough time together.

you thought you’ve already met the unleashed zayne when he fucked you for the first time, distancing from the caring one you loved. how he pounded into your cervix so fast, how he slapped across your face after spitting on your mouth, how he spoke those mean words in such a condescending manner, as if he was making you a favor. you loved this zayne as well.

that was all the mean he could get to you, when he felt like fucking you instead of making love to you. and you never worried too much about it either, he didn’t mean those words, he wasn’t like that.

your zayne wasn’t like that.

the zayne stalking behind a woman your exact age to push a cloth over her mouth and put her to sleep so he could lock her in a filthy basement was like that.

he doesn’t know why or when those thoughts started to mess up with his mind, but he got off to them. the image of women crying in fear, begging for their lives as blood covered their oh so beautiful breasts was better than any porn video online.

and hey, he’s been doing this for a while now, even before you two met. but his little sweet angel only made it worse, because now you were the one he imagined crying and begging, covered in blood. and he was scared as he didn’t wanted to hurt you like that, in a permanent way. not in a kinky way, in a deathly way.

he wished he could kill you agin, again and again, and then make you come back to life to kill you once more. he wanted to take care of you in the tenderest way possible and wanted to kill you in the filthiest way possible too.

so he started to murder more often, and he got crueler each time. the latest victim in front of him, oh poor soul, was going to be a witness to the zayne you’ll never know.

the girl in front of his broad figure stood naked with both her wrists tied to the ceiling with the roughest rope ever made, making the soft skin brake into small droplets of blood.

zayne fucking loved blood.

she stir awake, her eyes adjusting to the white light as her heartbeat raced faster each passing second, screaming for help and squirming around to try and break free form the restraints.

“my fucking god, why you whores always react the same way?” he spoke calmly as he approached her shaky form, grabbing a fistful of her hair to then slap her, not even close as the kind of slaps he gave you, making the girl shut up instantly as she started crying and apologizing.

zayne couldn’t care less about what she had to say, towering over her and fixated on the red liquid decorating her soft skin.

he had to touch it. smell it. taste it.

so he did, he leaned into her smaller frame, making her take a few steps back as he grabbed her arm to lick down on it, grunting when the metallic flavor covered his tongue. he got hard immediately.

he tasted it. now he needed to fuck into it.

“see? you can be silent for a while.” he chuckled lowly as he wiped the remains from his lips, turning around to grab a small cart hiding in the shadows and pull it in front of her, standing behind it. “but I’m afraid it won’t last—”

when she saw the contents of the silver platter on top of it she started crying and screaming once more. come on, it wasn’t so bad, was it?

his favorite scalpel with his name craved into the side, a sharp knife, a few nails next to a rusty hammer, a gun (boring) and a wrench.

lord, she didn’t even see the bat and machete in the lower shelf of the cart. how unconsiderate.

“I always let everyone choose, is the least I can do.” he clarified as he cleaned each of the tools before him with a cloth, pink with flowers. a gift you gave him; he carried a piece of you everywhere. “but don’t worry, dead or alive, you’ll test them all.”

after a little bit of pushing, yelling and cursing she chose the gun (he had to get rid of it, everyone chose the goddamn gun). he laughed wholeheartedly at her choice as he grabbed it and loaded it with a singular bullet.

he pushed the cart away to stand closer to her, filling her mouth with said cloth when her yelling got to his nerves. he always washed it after each job as he did with all of his tools, don’t worry. through and through a real and hygienic professional.

zayne traces the curve of her body with the head of the gun, palming himself through his briefs as he leaned down to whisper to her ear. “you think I’m gonna shoot you in the head and call it a day? after all the effort it took me to bring you here? no, no.” the gun stoped its travel, pointing at her tummy, caressing her bellybutton with it as he rubbed himself against his palm.

he held her head down to make her watch how he pressed the trigger, the bullet going trough her stomach. blood everywhere. now the fun part.

his white shirt was splashed with it, as his face, his hands, don’t even bother to think of how the wall behind her looked. everywhere he looked at, there was blood, red, warm blood.

zayne dropped the gun to the floor, grabbing her hips to bring her decaying body closer to him. he pulled the now bloody cloth out of her mouth before dropping it to the puddle next to the weapon, licking and kissing her crimson lips like a starving dog.

grunts and moans filled the four concrete walls as he rubbed his leaking tip against the hole in her tummy, tugging at the base as the foreskin feared to push a bit too much inside of said hole.

he didn’t even care about the now dead body in front of him, too busy breeding the wound after mere seconds. it was always like that, hard to get and fast to finish.

the other tools were used too, don’t worry. he had the time of his life that night.

and when he came back home to you, late at night when you were already fast asleep, after he burnt her and all of the possible evidence as he always did, he took a steamy shower, whistling full of joy, smiling at the dry blood converting the transparent water into that shade of pink you loved to then disappear down the drain.

you’d wake up shortly after with his dark and soft locks tickling your naked thighs as he nibbled at your clit and humped the mattress, offering you the best head he’d ever given to you. ever.

squirt all over his expensive sheets, over and over. so fucking wet, squelchy. warm, he needed more.

the sunlight met your lord knows what number orgasm, his jaw numb from all the effort and his mind cloudy because of the lack of sleep. “I love you, I love you.” he mumbled as he traced kisses from your thighs to your mouth, letting you taste the sweet nectar he got from you.

you’d ask him what’s gotten into him, he’d tell you he loves you once again.

your soft, quiet and intimate zayne love you and wanted to take care of you.

the other zayne wanted to fucking kill you, stab you and beat you to death <3

let’s hope you never never ever meet him !

💌: yes i love patrick bateman and gore, I’m just a girl >_<

[maelstrom-of-emotions]

What do I think? That the universe, in all its cruel humor, has sent this as a sign. A neon-lit omen, electric and undeniable, pressing into the softest, most vulnerable parts of me. And you—by the gods, you and OP—are astronomically brilliant. Bright-burning brilliance that makes me envious in a way that aches. Hand it over. Just a fraction. Just a sliver of that impossible, gut-wrenching talent. Please and thank you./j/lh

But in all seriousness, I am caught by this idea. Snared in it like a bird tangled in silk, equal parts suffocated and entranced. Because I, being the dramatic tangle of nerve endings that I am, immediately conjure scenes dripping in anguish—confessions swallowed by the rain, words falling apart before they can be fully spoken. A tub of ice cream abandoned, half-melted, next to an untouched spoon. Maybe even monologues that stretch too long, bloated with all the things that should have been said earlier, and all the things that should never have been said at all.

But Wangxian—Wangxian does nothing by halves. Love, pain, devotion, ruin. It is all or nothing, a knife’s edge that they willingly walk, over and over, even when it cuts deep. And so I let go of the easy angst, the cinematic suffering, and instead, I think of them. The way they ache. The way they yearn. The way they are two people who have always, always had too much love to give and nowhere safe to place it.

And then—this line. This one line, sharp and devastating in its simplicity:

Lan Wangji had expected coldness. An insult, perhaps. Maybe even a warm beverage thrown in his face, though he can’t imagine Wei Ying doing so.

Because that’s not who Wei Wuxian is, is it? No matter how much his heart splinters, no matter how much his chest is a hollowed-out, aching thing, he is kind. And he believes, deep in his marrow, that no matter how much he longs for it, Lan Wangji’s heart is not his to claim.

But Wei Wuxian has always been resourceful. He survives on scraps, on the barest offerings, on things that were never meant to be enough but that he makes enough through sheer force of will. He will not ask for more, will not reach out and take, no matter how much his fingers tremble with the want of it.

And that—that—is what shatters me. That Wei Wuxian will keep Lan Wangji at arm’s length because once upon a time, Lan Wangji asked him to. Because every version of Lan Wangji matters to him, past and present, and he will honor all of them, even if it means swallowing his own pain like glass.

And Lan Wangji—Lan Wangji, who is left with only fragments. The soft tap of knuckles against a glass door. A gentle smile paired with sparkling (tired) eyes. Laughter that is bright and beaming but stretches thin sometimes. Lan Wangji has his heart, too—has had it in his hands for longer than he realizes. But Wei Wuxian does not want it back.

And god, the scars. The way Lan Wangji traces them, as if by mapping their shapes, he can rewrite the past. As if his fingertips against ink and skin could change the story. Could undo the pain that came before. And Wei Wuxian, looking down at his own arms, does what he has always done. Accepts. Bears it. Wishes the universe had been kinder but does not expect it to be.

(And sometimes—sometimes, in the depths of his own sleepless nights, he wonders if he could carve out the piece of the universe that tied them together. If he could cut it away, bleed it out, just to make things easier for Lan Wangji. Because he catches the way Lan Wangji looks at him sometimes, like something breaking apart, like something unraveling, and by the stars, it would be better if he could spare him that.)

But the worst hurt—the one that lingers sharpest—is not the grief of loss or the agony of distance. It is the quiet, tenuous thing. The hurt that stretches between them like a thread, fragile but unbroken. The hurt that comes from knowing where the line is drawn in the sand, knowing that at any moment, the tide could come in and swallow it whole. And still—they hold it. Still—they balance on either side of it, waiting.

Wanting.

For the universe has never been kind to them, only relentless, only unyielding, only watching.

(And yet, it is the same universe that has linked them together so gently, wrenching them into being with all the feverish, desperate love they deserve. And it will be the universe that will shatter at their feet and remake itself – just once – into something softer, something kinder, something which they do not have to lose to love.)

I’m just realizing how incoherent this sounds, oof.

@undercover-stories and @xiaokuer-schmetterling (because you're just simply too amazing not to include).

Soulmates AU wangxian where their skins reflect. So Lwj has all of Wwx' scars (bite marks from dogs, belt scars from Madam Yu, a surgery from when JC needed a kidney, a burn mark on his chest, etc) and Wwx has... Nothing. Because they have the same callouses from sports and bruises from training but Lwj has no scars nor does he write on himself or accidentally gets ink on his hands. So Wwx thinks he has no soulmate, because even when he writes things to him (Hi! How are you?? WHO are you?? Are you well??? Are you there????) he gets no reply. Lwj does see it, he just knows his parents were soulmates and their relationship was fucked up, and that his uncle's soulmate didn't want him, and that his brother's relationship with his soulmate is stranged because he likes someone else. So he doesn't want a soulmate at all.

Anyways. Shit happens in Wwx's life, he hits rock bottom and starts getting tattoos. Why not? It's not like he's saddling anyone with them.

Cue Lwj watching ink accumulate on his skin while he's working a CORPORATE JOB. His uncle thinks it unprofessional and they are creeping towards the neck and hands.

So he writes to his soulmate to please stop.

His soulmate: so you DO exist uh.

Lwj: I do not want a soulmate. Or tattoos. Please refrain from getting any more and from trying to contact me.

Wwx: ...

Wwx: okay.

Thirteen years later Lan Wanji falls in love with the gorgeous Biomedical Engineer working at his company, Wei Wuxian, and is doing his best to approach this man who has been so very obviously mistreated (Wwx is on his YLZ era with others). They get closer little by little. And then one day they are on a date and Wwx rolls up his sleeves and Lwj comes face to face with a lotus flower sleeve he knows intimately well.

Cue angst.

[angy-grrr]

I try to not be hater, but then I see the stupid takes and get madddddd

This is just what I feel every single time I see those shitty opinions

[moe-broey]

My therapist hasn't killed me yet 👍

[thedevotionaltour]

thought about my sibling and had to stop bc i started getting too angry in my mind

[jacks-wack-attack]

...

I need a good few hours to calm down and stop crying before I can process this more. Because it hit hard already, but that really makes it hit.

Ok so. "Why does this sound like a goodbye?" Was fucking heartbreaking, right; we have the full-on uninterrupted eye contact, the head tilt, Dean's already open mouth twitching before the scene cuts to Cas' "I love you," like he had more to say, but Cas beats him to the punch. It's great, we love that. But for the dialogue to be sequenced that way, and to have Dean reply with, "don't do this, Cas."

I'm only just realizing how fucking insane it was. And sure, I might just be coping here, at the end of the day who fucking knows, but look at it. Think about it. Now let yourself feel it all over again.

It's Dean's death knocking on the door behind Cas, and it's Cas' death emerging behind Dean. Like this, they're directly facing their own demise—but they're too stuck on each other, in their moment, to give a damn. And then Dean doesn't say, "I love you too." He says, "don't do this."

He isn't disgusted or ashamed or put off in the slightest by Cas' confession, because if he is then why is he on the verge of tears? In what world would it make sense for him to want to cry after his best friend confessed to him, if the confession was something he did not want. He says don't do this here, don't do this to me now.

Even if, and that's the most unlikely if to ever exist, Dean did not reciprocate Cas' feelings—don't do this is still so fucking powerful. Because Dean's connected the dots, happiness [...] is in just saying it, and Cas said it, so where does that lead Dean? That's right, with Cas dead again, trying to save him again.

Don't do this. Don't die for me, don't love me only to die for me, don't love me at all, just stay with me.

Don't let me watch you die again and not even let me follow you—because, at the very least, that was a consolation. She's gonna kill you, which Dean knows that Billie knows will hurt him more than his own death, and then she's gonna kill me.

"Don't do this," was actually so fucking powerful, I don't know how it slipped past me until now...