#this is possibly all incoherent but WHATEVER it is fine it’s good i’m good

[valentronic]

*pathetically rattles can* spare shockshipping content ??? spare shockship please sir ???

[supernaturalscribe67]

Hidden Bruises

Words: 7,546

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Sam/Dean Winchester x Male!Winchester!Reader [Platonic]

Warning(s): Language, PTSD, Mention of past Rape, Trauma, Sexual Assault, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Mention of Character Death, Azazel

Summary: After the death of their father, Sam and Dean's older brother went missing for a couple of weeks. Eventually, he returned, and everything seemed to go back to normal. When the brothers follow a lead that takes them to an abandoned schoolhouse, Sam and Dean come face to face with the reality of what happened to their brother when he went missing.

Request:

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the Winchester's (John/Dean/Sam) x Older brother finding out the Azaseal (yellow eye demon) s/a him and he's been keeping it secret intill they run into Azaseal and he gloats about what he did. (If you don't feel comfortable using yellow eyes that just some strong random demon is fine)

Maybe reader is someone who has always took care of all of them including when John was drunk or injured, took care of both his brothers doing whatever he could

@xweirdo101x

A/N: I'm not dead! Just stressed! These past several months have been horrible, but I'm happy to say I'm back in the groove of writing! This request has been long overdue and I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to get it out, I did not forget everyone who sent in a request! I hope you enjoy the story! Do NOT read if any of the warnings are triggering to you. Keep yourself healthy, keep yourself safe. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

~ Much Love

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Dude, are you sure you’re taking me down the right road?” Dean asked, brows furrowed as he looked in the rear-view mirror occasionally. 

“I’m sure.” (Y/N) confirmed, gaze focused on Google Maps, which he had cued up for the last thirty minutes of their drive. 

“We’ve been driving the backroads for ages. Never thought an old schoolhouse could be this deep in the countryside.” 

“A lot of people settled here at some point, Dean,” Sam said with a brief shrug of his broad shoulders. 

“Sam’s right. According to local history, the first group of settlers that arrived built make-shift houses deeper in the woodland areas for better hunting and fishing grounds. To accommodate, they built a schoolhouse in the middle of the settlements so all the kids would be able to make it to school a little easier. Once the years passed and all the people started moving away to start the nearby town, the schoolhouse was practically abandoned. There wasn’t any need for it anymore.” 

“Look at you doing your research,” Dean teased with a smirk. 

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “More than you, asshole,” he mumbled. “Oh! There should be a small clearing up here to your left. Go ahead and turn in there, but we’re going to need to walk the rest of the way,” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Oh, grow up, Dean.” 

“Says the one sitting in the middle of the backseat.” 

“You’re so lucky I love this car as much as you do, otherwise I’d make you drive her into a tree.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“Try me, baby brother,” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Sam waved his hands, cutting them off. “As much as I like seeing you two go at it, now’s not the time.” 

Both Dean and (Y/N) opened their mouths to object but stopped themselves. They each grumbled something incoherent under their breath. Dean returned to the road and (Y/N) looked down at his phone. 

“Are you going to turn here?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. 

Dean slowly turned the wheel and edged the Impala onto the beginning of a dirt path. A couple of feet ahead of the car, the path narrowed and was overgrown by trees. Even if the Impala would have been smaller, there was no possible way it would be able to fit down the path. It appeared to be more the size of a hiking or bike trail. Once the car was settled, Dean turned the engine off, the heavy purr dying to a low hum as the heat dissipated. The headlights stayed on for a couple of seconds before going out. 

“Let’s rock ‘n roll,” Dean grunted as he stepped out of the car. 

Sam and (Y/N) soon followed after, the three of them heading to the back of the car. Dean popped the trunk and lifted the cover, revealing their large array of weapons. Each of them took their respective weapons and sheathed them before the trunk was closed with a heavy bang that echoed throughout the trees. 

“Could you be any louder? We don’t know how close the schoolhouse is from here.” (Y/N) grumbled. 

“Bite me,” Dean mumbled. 

“Guys,” Sam sighed. 

(Y/N) held up his hand in surrender. “Fine, fine,” he turned away from his brothers and began to make his way towards the dirt path. 

“You sure it’s down this way?” Sam asked, following after him.

“Yeah, that is, if we assume the coordinates are accurate.”  

“And you’re sure you can trust Google with that?” Dean asked. 

“Same as we trust any other research material. All I know is that it should be in some type of field.” 

Dean nodded, satisfied with the answer. 

They began to make their way down the dark, dirt path, towards the canopy of trees, bent after years of surviving thunderstorm after thunderstorm. As they approached the trees, they pulled their flashlights out, illuminating the path ahead. The treetops were thick and heavy, the moonlight disappearing when they passed the entrance to the woods. 

Thirty minutes filled with dodging bulging tree roots and low tree branches, accompanied by some complaints from Dean about how far they had walked, moonbeams became visible through the upcoming branches. (Y/N) held up his hand, and turned off his light, before he walked towards the clearing. Sam and Dean followed suit, killing the light. 

Past the wall of tree branches, a field became visible. Sat in the middle, about twenty feet away from the group, was an old, dilapidated building. The building sat in front of them, tall and menacing, as if a dark aura circled the decaying brick exterior. It stood three stories tall, some windows broken, and glass surrounding the foundation. The steps out front were cracked with some concrete pieces scattered about near the bottom. The bold lettering that rested right above the front doors was faded, some letters almost invisible, but it was clear that it was supposed to read out the name of the school. (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder how the interior of the building looked compared to the outside. 

One thing that struck the group as odd, however, was the fact that some of the windows were filled with warm lights, indicating power had been added to the ancient building. It wasn’t until they got closer that they realized a small hum was disrupting the evening crickets in their peaceful song. (Y/N) raised his hand, halting their movements. They got down low, the only cover they had being the overgrown grass that engulfed their bodies. 

“They’re using a generator.” (Y/N)’s voice was low and deep. 

Sam sighed. “And it looks like there’s only one entrance. I wouldn’t trust those windows either. No one knows how long it’s been since they’ve been opened.” 

Dean shook his head. “That’s gotta be against fire code to have one doorway.” He mumbled. 

“The fire code came around in the 1600s, but I highly doubt these settlers cared about it.” (Y/N) muttered. “I’m going to sneak towards the generator and turn it off. You two keep an eye out to see if there’s any movement inside. We can go in then,”

“Got it,” they said in unison. 

(Y/N) gave a brief nod before he headed towards the building, keeping low in case of peering eyes from the windows. Rounding the side of the building, the humming became almost deafening. A dull light illuminated a small patch of grass on the other side of the school. With his eyes glued to the light, (Y/N) swiftly made his way around and to the back. The generator sat against the foundation, rumbling loudly and shaking the earth around it. He grabbed his flashlight from his waistband and shone it on the generator, furrowing his brows as he looked for a way to stop it. Finally, he saw the power switch, took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the task ahead, and switched it off. 

The power died immediately, the once bright school house going dark in an instant. (Y/N) knew he had to be quick. He made his way back towards the front. Sam and Dean stood at the base of the steps, their weapons drawn. (Y/N) drew his before he joined his brothers. 

“Alright, let’s gank these sons of bitches,” he mumbled, taking the lead as they entered the school. 

It was a lot darker inside than they originally thought it would be. Despite the massive windows in each room, the decades' worth of dust covered the natural moonlight, engulfing them in darkness. They brought out their flashlights, illuminating the entranceway. Their dim lights skimmed over the walls and floors, taking it in as they took careful steps deeper into the school. 

The interior of the school was just as damaged as the exterior. No longer was it a place of learning, but a place filled with debris and graffiti. Artwork and random words riddled the walls in different colored spray paints and many wooden panels lined the floor that were covered in a ripped-up, faded green carpet. The three of them took their time navigating through the mess that was near the front door to get to the main hall. A room was located to the left, which would appear to be the location of the office and the home of the principal when the school was in operation.

A couple of feet away from the front door, there was an archway that led down a narrow hallway as well as a staircase to the right. The halls were a little more clean compared to the entrance. All of the debris was pushed to one side or the other, making it a little easier to navigate through. (Y/N) turned to his brothers and gestured down the hall. 

“You two take this hall and I’ll check upstairs,” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, yet booming in the dead silence that surrounded them. 

Dean furrowed his brows. “What? No.” Dean protested, his voice at the same level as (Y/N)’s had been. “We stick together.” 

“There shouldn’t be too many in here. I’ll be fine on my own. You two stick together, and shout if you need help.” 

“But-” 

“Dean,” (Y/N)’s tone was low. “I’m not arguing about this.” 

Dean shared a glance with Sam before he shook his head in disapproval and began to make his way down the hallway. (Y/N) watched them for a couple of seconds before he turned. He stalked towards the narrow staircase, caged in by cracked and deteriorating walls. Other than the small amount of concrete or wood that was scattered around on the stairs that he had to avoid, they were rather clear compared to the entrance. Gingerly, he placed his hand on top of the railing, an old wooden rod that had paint and wood chipped away at it. He used it as a guide as he made his way up and to the second floor. The stairs creaked under his weight, despite his careful steps. 

While he walked, he concentrated heavily on his sense of hearing. With his sight limited, he was relying exclusively on his ears to tell him if anyone, or anything, was near. When he reached the landing, he shone his flashlight down a hall that looked identical to the one Sam and Dean had wandered down. 

The second floor was in the same state as the first floor with scattered debris on either one side or the other of the walkway. Doors lined the walls, some fully opened, and some cracked ever so slightly. One by one, he took a step into every room, shining his light around all four corners. He whispered a quiet ‘clear’ following each empty room he examined. 

All of the rooms were dimly lit with the mixture of (Y/N)’s flashlight and the faded moonbeams begging to go through the dusty windows. Chairs and desks were strewed about, some toppled over, while others rested in, presumably, the same spot they did all those years ago. Those tables and chairs were unknowingly preserving the history of the once-active school. 

It was quiet. Too quiet. A part of (Y/N) wanted to believe that the intel they received might have been wrong, that no demons were haunting the very halls he walked, but the generator out back told no lies. Squatters wouldn’t waste what little money they had on luxuries such as that, nor would they put forth the time and the effort to wire the entire building. The other part of him, the logical side, told him that the demons were good. Sneaky. They knew how to hide and they did it well. He had to be even more focused than he already had been. 

He hoped Sam and Dean were doing okay. 

Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to split up. 

(Y/N) got to the last room, on the left side of the hallway. He noted that it was the only door that had been shut, making sure to be extra cautious as he reached a hand forward, grasping the splintered doorknob. As he opened the door, the aged hinges creaked, the sound echoing down the hallway, breaking the uneasy silence. The room was noticeably darker than the rest, not an ounce of moonlight visible. (Y/N) raised his light and shone it around the room. He took a couple of steps inside, broken glass crackling underneath his boots. When he shined his light on the window, he noticed that it had been completely boarded up, the remnants of a black trash bag that had once covered it hanging from nails lazily placed along the window sill. 

Just as he got to the center of the room, the door hinges creaked again, loud and eerie. (Y/N) was quick to turn around, but he was only able to catch the final seconds before the door closed. His breathing stopped, heart racing inside of his chest. He listened, closely, but he heard nothing. No footsteps. No breathing. Nothing. 

“Guess who,” A deep, scratchy, all too familiar voice spoke. 

The same voice that plagued his mind and haunted his dreams. 

He froze. 

Like a deer in headlights. 

Then, his world went black. 

*~*

The harsh light wasn’t good for his pounding head. A throaty moan slipped past (Y/N)’s lips as he awoke, vision blurry and eyes watery. He slowly lifted his head, groaning at the noticeable crick in his neck. He could feel that he was slouched in a chair, his back was aching from the posture, but he felt too nauseous and weak to fix it. When his vision cleared, he was able to take in some of the details of the room he was in. It was obvious that the room used to be one of the many classrooms, desks and chairs were pushed to one side of the room, stacked up to the point where they could topple at any moment. A single window stood across the way, the bottom half completely shattered with a puddle of broken shards resting beneath. The chill night air whistled and caressed his face. To his right were two massive floodlights, shining down on him. To his left, were Sam and Dean, bound to chairs the same as he was. 

Sam and Dean. 

(Y/N) quickly sat up, despite the throbbing in his head. In an attempt to move his arms, he could feel how tight the ropes were around his wrists and forearms. The demons were skilled, it seemed. 

“Well, look who finally decided to wake up,” Dean grumbled, his speech coming out slurred. 

He has a concussion. 

“What the Hell happened?” (Y/N) hissed. 

“They came out of nowhere,” Sam mumbled. His eyes were half-lidded, looking as if he was experiencing the same pain as (Y/N). 

“There were too many of them.” Dean finished.

(Y/N) cursed under his breath as he tried to wiggle his arms out of the binds, but it was all to no avail. He was used to being held captive by people who didn’t know how to tie a knot, but the way he was tied up was rather intricate. He wasn’t too sure he would be able to break out of it. 

“How many did you guys run into?” 

“I don’t know, man,” Dean answered. “A dozen, maybe more. You?” 

(Y/N) stopped moving, his eyes cast down to the floor. “Just one,” 

“One? You got taken out by a single demon?” 

“It was dark,” (Y/N) defended himself with a growl. “I couldn’t see anything, I couldn’t hear anything. It was silent.”

Don’t think about his voice. Don’t think about his voice.

“Still, to be taken out by one demon, geez,” Dean mumbled. 

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with you! I’m trying to get us out of here!” 

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that,” a sweet, sultry, female voice echoed in the room. “You won’t be going anywhere anytime soon,” a demon came from behind them, a wide smile on her lips. 

She walked behind (Y/N), grabbed the knots connected to his wrists and arms, and tugged at them. 

“Did these myself,” she spoke proudly. “Wasn’t too difficult, really. Just seems as if people aren’t willing to teach themselves anything useful anymore,” she pursed her lips, crossing her arms underneath her breasts. 

(Y/N) snarled as the frayed ropes rubbed against his skin, scratching the surface. “If you’re done boosting your ego for five minutes, I’d really appreciate it if you let us go.” He spoke between clenched teeth.

The demon let out a boisterous laugh as she walked around the chair to stand in front of him. “Are you kidding?” She scoffed. “The Winchesters practically fall into our lap, and you think we’re going to let you go? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “Now, what would my boss think of me if I did that?” 

“And who, exactly, is your boss?” Dean asked. 

“Oh, you know him. Quite well, actually. He’s so excited to see you all again.” She walked over to (Y/N), the back of her hand brushing against his cheek gingerly. “Especially you.” Her voice was low, menacing. 

With that, the demon left, the click of the doorknob filling the silence. (Y/N) was tense. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. Gooseflesh littered his arms, the hairs standing up. The panic began to set in. 

Have to get out. Have to get out. Have to get out. HAVE TO GET OUT.

“We have to go.” (Y/N) said, his voice barely above a whisper and shaky. 

(Y/N) began to frantically pull at the ropes, only resulting in them tightening around his arms. His muscles strained, shoulders shifting. Sam and Dean both tried to wiggle out of their confinements. Sam’s movements were slower and more thoughtful than his brothers’. 

“Do you know who she’s talking about?” Sam leaned his head close to (Y/N), voice hushed. 

“Doesn’t matter. What matters is that we get the fuck out of here.” (Y/N)’s voice was louder than it normally would have been, the anxiety flooding his words. 

Sam and Dean shared a look of concern but decided to say nothing. They had never seen their brother so frazzled. Dare they say, scared? If there was one thing that (Y/N) never experienced when he was on hunts, it was fear. (Y/N) was always the one who kept a calm and collected attitude, barked orders, kept victims quiet during stressful situations, and he was the one Sam and Dean always fell back on. It was as if the brother they were bound next to wasn’t the same person. 

They all worked on getting the ropes off of them. Sam and Dean weren’t struggling as much as (Y/N) seemed to, who, at first glance, one would assume had never gotten out of binds before. That was far from the truth. He was, normally, the first one to get out of the ropes, as if he was an escape artist in a previous life. It was rather evident that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Sam and Dean, however, didn’t have the slightest clue. 

Have to get out. Have to get out. 

CLICK

The door opened, and (Y/N) froze. He was sure his heart stopped as well. Every muscle felt as if they were tying themselves together in intricate knots. The creaking hinges seemed louder than before, almost as if they were teasing him. Laughing at his pain. Mocking him. Or, perhaps, they were warning him. 

Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

“Well, well, well…” The voice spoke, amusement evident.

(Y/N)’s blood ran cold. In situations like that, when faced with immediate danger, our brain turns to one of three options; fight, flight, or freeze. You can defend yourself, run away, or accept your fate. Being tied to the chair didn’t give (Y/N) the chance for flight, and there wasn’t an ounce of fight left in his body. So, he sat there, frozen, eyes wide with fear. The last time he was filled with that much fear was when he last encountered the demon. Unfortunately, it hadn’t been that long ago. 

A hand on his shoulder caused him to jump. He knew that touch all too well. It felt as if fire was spreading from the hand, down his torso, and through the rest of his body. 

Azazel turned to stand in front of the three Winchesters, his deep, yellow eyes lingering over (Y/N)’s body. Sam and Dean tensed, their jaws clenched, noses scrunched as they stared down the demon. 

“Yellow eyes,” Dean said between clenched teeth. 

“Oh, come on, Dean, you know I’m much more than just my eyes,” Azazel smirked. “You know, me and my demons were having a fairly good night. Got a lot planned for you, Sammy. Of course, the plan has some kinks to work through, but what plan doesn’t? A peaceful night, nonetheless. Imagine my surprise when the lights turned off. Not only that, but imagine my surprise when I hear who turned it off.” 

Azazel’s eyes scanned over the brothers, but they always wandered back to (Y/N). Each time they did, it felt like he was getting stabbed in the gut. 

“You know,” Azazel continued. “I can’t thank you enough for showing up unannounced. I mean, that’s one less child I need to find,” he gestured to Sam. “Not only that,” Azazel turned to (Y/N), stalking over toward him at an agonizing pace. “But you brought my favorite little plaything.” 

This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real.

When Azazel placed his calloused hand on (Y/N)’s jaw, fingers trailing down to his chin, (Y/N) was faced with the brutal reality that everything was real. (Y/N) hadn’t realized how much he had been shaking until Azazel let out a deep laugh. 

“Still scared?” He teased, his tongue poking through his eerie grin. 

“Leave him alone,” Sam growled. “It’s me you want.” 

“Correction, Sam, I want both of you.” 

“Why? What is he to you!?” 

Azazel looked at Sam, then Dean, then back at Sam. His brows raised as a look of realization crossed his face. “Oh,” he cooed, tilting his head to the side as he bent down in front of (Y/N), their noses almost touching. “You never told them, did you.” 

“Told us what?” Dean questioned. “(Y/N), what the Hell is he talking about!?” 

(Y/N) couldn’t speak. He felt as if there were cobwebs in his throat, his lips and mouth dry, and no part of his body wanted to function. Azazel stared into his eyes. Correction: Azazel stared into his soul. The soul that he had left was damaged. Oh, did that fact fill the demon with pride. Azazel’s lips curled up at the corner of his mouth as he stood up straight. He sauntered over so he was standing in front of Sam and Dean.

“Months ago…” Azazel began. “After your dear old Daddy passed, your brother decided to go on a little manhunt, all on his own.” 

Sam and Dean turned their gaze to (Y/N). Sam’s eyes were wide with shock and betrayal, while Dean’s expression could only be described as pure anger. Their minds immediately drifted to the worst possible outcome from that hunt. Their first thought drifted to him selling his soul. Making a deal with Azazel. While that seemed like a possibility, it didn’t make sense, as Azazel still spoke as if he had plans for Sam. What could (Y/N) have done? 

Azazel began to make his way back over to (Y/N), his back straight, his posture intimidating. “After a couple of pathetic weeks of trying to find me, he was finally able to catch up to me.” Azazel stood in front of him. Slowly, he leaned down, his breath fanning over (Y/N)’s face. “Do you want to tell them all of the gory details? Or should I?” 

(Y/N)’s breath quickened, chest noticeably rising and falling at a rapid pace. The panic became evident on his face. Azazel reached a hand up and let it rest on (Y/N)’s knee. 

“Do you want to tell them how you quivered under my touch? How you were shaking and sobbing? How you were crying for them to save you?” 

As he talked, his hand trailed further and further up his thigh, getting dangerously close to his crotch. (Y/N)’s body began to convulse, eyes bulging from their sockets. Whimpers escaped his parted lips as he tried desperately to wiggle away from his touch. 

Have to get away. Have to get away. Get away. GET AWAY.

“Hey!” Sam shouted. 

“Get away from him!” Dean exclaimed. 

“Tell me,” Azazel continued, ignoring Sam and Dean’s loud protests, his attention solely focused on (Y/N). “Do you still hear my voice as you drift off to sleep at night? Do you still feel my fingers digging into your hips? Do you still feel my cock inside that tight little hole of yours?” He grunted as he gripped (Y/N)’s penis through his jeans tightly. 

“No! Please!” (Y/N) screamed louder than he had ever screamed before. Tears rolled down his cheeks freely, painting his face with their wetness. He desperately attempted to get away, not caring that the ropes dug into his flesh, rubbing it raw. His sobs echoed off the walls. 

“That’s right,” Azazel grinned wickedly, teeth and jaw clenched. Somehow, his quiet voice was the only thing (Y/N) could hear. Not the hum of the floodlights, not his brothers’ angry shouts, just Azazel. “Cry, my little pet.” 

“You son of a bitch! I’ll kill you! Do you hear me? I will fucking kill you!” Dean screamed to the point of almost instantly becoming hoarse. 

“Oh, I hear you boys loud and clear.” Azazel pulled his hand away from (Y/N). “And I must say, it’s getting rather irritating. I might just have to take my pet somewhere else to play.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Sam snarled. 

“Well, not now. I’ve worked him up a little too much for me to have a good time playing with him.” He glanced at (Y/N), licking his lips predatorily. “It won’t be any fun making him scream now. Don’t want him to lose his voice too soon. Besides, you two made a mess of one of our rooms, and I need to make sure that everything necessary is accounted for.” 

Azazel continued to stare at (Y/N), obvious amusement etched on his face. The tears continued to fall, but he was silent. His bottom lip wobbled. By the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, it was evident he was holding back cries he desperately wanted to let out. Azazel grabbed him tightly by the jaw, tilted his head up, and planted a rough, bruising kiss on his lips. Before Sam and Dean could resume their shouting, he pulled away. 

“I’ll see you soon, little pet.” He purred, fingers trailing over his wet cheeks before he stalked out of the room, not even giving Sam and Dean a second glance. 

Click

Creak

Slam

Silence

The three of them sat there and said nothing. (Y/N) stared off towards the window, head moving from side to side ever so slightly. His brain was foggy and dizzy from the overstimulation. Dean’s jaw was clenched, nostrils flared. His eyes glimmered with a murderous rage. He stared at his older brother - his broken older brother - before turning his attention over to Sam. Sam shared the same look of anger as he did. 

What no one had been aware of was that, while the chaos with Azazel unfolded, Sam had been working on the ropes around his arms. A couple of silent seconds after they were left alone in the room, Sam let out a grunt and pulled his arms apart. The ropes fell onto the floor with a light thud. With determination in his eyes, Sam turned and untied (Y/N) first before going over to Dean. Once Dean was free, he stood, stretched his neck muscles, and then turned for the door, eyes flooded with blind rage. Sam was quick to grab him by the upper arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“What’re you doing?” He whispered. 

“I’m going after that son of a bitch, Sam, what do you think I’m doing?” Dean retorted. 

“We can’t. There are too many of them, and we don’t have our weapons anymore.” 

“I’ll take my chances,” Dean pulled his arm from Sam’s grasp and turned to leave, but was quickly grabbed by Sam once more. “Let go, Sam.” 

“Dean, I want the bastard dead just as much as you do, even more now, but we’re outnumbered. Plus, (Y/N) needs us.” 

Hearing his brother’s name snapped him out of the trance he was in. Dean snapped his head around towards (Y/N), who was still sitting in the chair. 

“(Y/N),” he breathed, quickly making his way over to him. Sam followed. 

Once they were in front of (Y/N), they could see just how much he was affected. His arms hung at his side lamely, his gaze still set towards the window. They were empty, devoid of any emotion. His cheeks were still stained, and his lips were slightly parted. They had started to swell. 

“Hey, hey, (Y/N),” Dean reached up and cupped his face, turning his head so he would look at him. “Hey, buddy, you’re okay. You’re safe. He’s not here anymore, but we have to get out of here. Can you stand up?” 

Silence. 

Dean slowly nodded. “Alright, Sam, you get that window open and we’ll get out of here. I’ll grab him.” 

Sam moved over to the window, scraping some of the broken glass away from it. He glanced out the window and let out a breath of relief when he saw they were on the first floor. He grabbed the top of the window, lifting it, but it didn’t budge. He cursed under his breath and took a deep breath as he hoisted the window open with all of his strength. The bottom half of the window slammed upwards, causing the wall to shake. He raised his brows and turned to Dean, gesturing him over quickly. 

Dean reached under (Y/N)’s legs and picked him up bridal style. He held him tight and close to his chest as he swiftly made his way over to the window. Sam was the first one to climb out, hissing as the splinters from the window sill embedded themselves into his hands. Once his feet were on the ground, he turned back to the window. 

“Pass him through,” he held his arms out. 

Dean glanced behind him at the door before he helped Sam get (Y/N) through the window. Once (Y/N) was through, Sam cradled him in his arms just as Dean had. Dean moved even faster to get out of the window. When they were outside, they could see, in the distance, the familiar sight of the sun peeking out past the horizon. They shared a glance, examined their surroundings, and then rushed back towards the tall trees at the edge of the field. 

They ran at Mach speed through the forest, hopping over roots and dodging protruding branches. Now and then, Sam would look down at his brother, still held tight to his chest, but the same, vacant expression was always present on his face. Sam was, admittedly, worried for him. He had never seen (Y/N) in such a vulnerable state. He was always the level-headed one, so put together. He was the one that Sam and Dean leaned on in times of trouble, the one that picked them up when they were down, the one to jump to their aid when they needed him the most without any hesitation. 

And here he was, carrying him in his arms, the broken shell of his oldest brother. Never, in a million years, would he have imagined this scenario. To him, it was always supposed to be the other way around, as it had been on multiple occasions. He felt so heavy, but, at the same time, light as a feather, as if Sam could carry him for hundreds of miles if he had to. He would in a heartbeat. 

By the time they reached the edge of the wood, the sky had turned a brilliant pinkish-orange, and mourning doves began to sing their elegant tune. Dean broke out into a wide grin as Baby came into view. 

“Oh, Baby, I am never leaving you again,” he mumbled as he ran his hand over her hood. 

“Dean? Keys?” Sam raised his brows. 

Dean slowly frowned. He patted his jean pockets, then his coat pockets. He grumbled, unzipped his coat, and reached inside. After seconds of searching, he let out a heavy sigh of relief as he pulled the keys out of an inner pocket. 

“Thank God for inside pockets.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get the door opened.” 

“Right, right…” 

Dean unlocked the car before he rounded the corner to the back passenger’s side. He opened the door.

“How is he?” He asked. 

Sam took a moment to look down at (Y/N). He was so focused on getting them as far away from the school as possible, that he didn’t even notice that he had fallen asleep. Sam felt relief wash over him, glad that his brother didn’t have to experience any more of those negative thoughts he must’ve had. At least, not at that moment. Carefully, Sam navigated his way to the backseat, laying (Y/N) on his side. He made sure not to wake him. With everything he had gone through and all the emotions that had seemingly piled onto him all at once, he wasn’t sure how easy (Y/N) would be to wake up. He must have been exhausted. 

“He’s fine, at least, for now,” Sam mumbled. 

Once (Y/N) was situated in the backseat, Sam stretched, not having realized the strain he had received from carrying him for so long. He closed the door as quietly as he could and took his spot in the passenger’s seat. Dean walked around the car and got into the driver’s side. He was quick to start the car, the rumble of the engine sending vibrations through the seats. Dean pulled off the dirt road and did a U-Turn, heading back into town. 

The first five minutes of the ride were silent. Not even the radio dared speak up. Sam and Dean’s eyes were glued to the road, both of them taking turns to occasionally look back at (Y/N). 

Dean was the first one to speak. 

“We need to get the Hell out of Dodge.” He said. 

Sam nodded. “You’re right. If Yellow Eyes is this close, he’ll waste no time trying to find us. I can go in, pack all of our stuff, and check us out. Then, I say we drive as far away as possible.” 

“I couldn’t agree more.”

Another deep silence. Dean was the first one to speak again. 

“How come he never told us?” 

Sam hesitated for a moment, considering the question himself. He tried to look at it from a personal standpoint. Why didn’t he tell them? They’re family. They tell each other everything. But do they? He tried to look at it from a logical standpoint. 

It was one thing the Winchesters were notorious for; their lack of communication when it comes to their emotions. It was preached to them when they were younger, that emotions were the reason hunters got killed. You had to go in, get the job done, and don’t let it get to you. Then again, a vast majority of hunters are alcoholics, so what does that say about them? They are human, after all. 

What happens when something serious occurs? Something so traumatic that they lose themselves at the first sight of the enemy? That was something neither the hunting life nor their father had prepared them for. At that point, they were lost. 

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know. I mean, you saw the way he acted when Yellow Eyes walked in.” 

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Yeah.” 

“I couldn’t imagine what he was going through, nor what he went through. I mean, if something like that happened to you, would you tell us?” 

Dean opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. He clenched onto the steering wheel. “No,” he mumbled. 

“Exactly, I mean…” he trailed. “This is fucked up.” 

“Yeah, extremely fucked up. You have no idea how hard it is for me to drive away. I wanna go back there and kill him so bad.” Dean spoke between clenched teeth, his grip on the wheel so tight his knuckles turned white. 

“Trust me, Dean, I get it.” Sam nodded. “But right now, we should focus on (Y/N). He needs us right now, more than anything.” 

Dean looked over at Sam for a second before glancing in the rearview mirror at his older brother’s sleeping form. On that day, he vowed that he would kill Azazel with his own two hands. 

*~*

His vision was fading, black spots decorating his peripherals. Any sound had been replaced with a low buzz. His breathing was staggered and labored. Every inch of his body was on fire as if he was being burned from the inside out. The only relief he felt was the cool concrete that was pressed against his cheek. It felt as if his body weighed a thousand pounds. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t move. 

Suddenly, the pain shot through his body like a bullet, his muscles and nerves tensing. He opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out. 

“Aw, isn’t that cute,” Azazel growled from above him. 

(Y/N)’s fear-filled eyes shot towards the sound of his voice. Azazel’s deep, yellow eyes stared into him intently, filled with rage, lust, and desire. (Y/N) tried to scream louder, but, still, no sound came out. 

“Sam! Dean! Help me, please!” He mouthed, hot tears streaming down his face. 

“Look at you trying to call out for your brothers. Well, I hate to break it to you, little pet, but they aren’t here, and they’ll never find you if I can help it.” 

Azazel caressed his cheek before grabbing his hair roughly, yanking his head back. In a flash, a cool, sharp black was pressed against his neck. 

“Now, be a good boy and take it.” 

The pain intensified, lightning shooting through his veins.

Take it. 

Please. 

Take it.

Someone.

Take it!

Help me.

TAKE IT

*~*

(Y/N) gasped as he jolted upright, eyes wide and alert. His chest rose and fell with the rhythm of his pants. In an instant, Sam and Dean were by his side. Dean stood next to the bed while Sam sat next to him. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam spoke in a soothing voice, hesitantly reaching toward him. “You’re safe, (Y/N).” 

(Y/N) jerked away from his touch, and Sam was quick to pull back. As (Y/N) attempted to gather himself, he looked around the room. They were in a motel room, although it was different than the one (Y/N) remembered being in. What did he remember? The last thing he could recall was the look on Azazel’s face as he smirked down at him, the look in those deep, demonic eyes. Those damned eyes. He didn’t remember leaving the school, nor did he remember their journey to another motel room. 

“Where are we?” he asked quietly, his voice hoarse and broken.

“Chattanooga,” Dean replied. “A couple hours south of where we were.” 

(Y/N) nodded in acknowledgment. Then it was silent. No one said anything, the only sound filling the room was the electricity coursing through the air from the outdated box TV sat on the dresser. (Y/N)’s gaze was cast down towards the discolored comforter while Sam and Dean shared a glance as if silently urging one another to say something. Finally, it was Sam who spoke up. 

“Look, if you don’t wanna talk about it, we-” 

“He was right,” (Y/N) interrupted. 

Sam and Dean looked at each other before they turned their attention back to their older brother. Dean sat down on the bed opposite (Y/N), and leaned forward, hands folded. 

“Everything he said was true.” (Y/N) swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. 

“So, after dad died…” Sam trailed. 

“When I went AWOL? Yeah. I, uh, I had found where he was. Didn’t take that long, at least, not as long as I thought it was going to take. I was so set on killing him that I didn’t take into account the fact that there might be other demons with him. It was like I was…blind by rage…” (Y/N) lowered his head and twiddled his thumbs. “I was captured pretty easily, I hate to admit. Then, he came in…you know the rest.” 

(Y/N) was unaware of the tears that had begun to form in the corner of his eyes. He refused to look at his brothers. What would they say? What would they think? Would they be disappointed? Disgusted? Betrayed? He didn’t think he could handle what they thought about him at that moment. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Dean asked softly. 

(Y/N) glanced up at them, brows furrowed with a look of confusion. Sam and Dean’s expressions conveyed a feeling of sadness. Of hurt. (Y/N) clenched his hands into weak fists and looked down. 

“I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to be the one to protect you guys, not the other way around. I’m supposed to be the strong one. How would you think of me knowing your big brother couldn’t even stop himself from getting raped?” (Y/N)’s voice broke, tears flowing more freely. 

Sam and Dean watched (Y/N) hug himself tightly. Slowly, they began to make their way onto the bed, not wanting to startle him in such a fragile state. With Sam on one side and Dean on the other, they wrapped their arms loosely and gently around his shaking frame. 

“(Y/N), I hope you know that we don’t think any less of you because of this,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, this isn’t your fault,” Dean agreed.

(Y/N) shook his head. “If I wouldn’t have gone after him…” he sobbed. 

Dean shushed him, reaching a hand up to gently caress his head. (Y/N) stopped what he was saying and just leaned against his brothers. The Winchesters were never good with comfort. Get over it, they were always told. Stop being so sensitive. Real men don’t cry, type of narrative. They all just sat there in silence, sobs continuing to fall from (Y/N)’s lips. 

He was always so scared about the way his brothers would react. He decided to take a page out of John Winchester’s book of dealing with his emotions. Bottle it up and everything would be okay, which was completely false. That much was evident back at the schoolhouse. (Y/N) wasn’t okay. Hell, that had been the first moment he had verbally admitted that he had been raped, and it hurt. 

Even though he felt a small sense of security in the arms of his brothers, he still didn’t feel safe. Knowing Azazel, his rapist, was still roaming the world in search of them always kept him on edge. He wasn’t sure he would ever feel peace unless he witnessed, firsthand, the life drain from those yellow eyes of his. After that, he wasn’t certain how he would feel.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice broke the dead silence. 

(Y/N) looked up at him, eyes red, but slowly drying. Dean gazed down at him with a look of determination on his face. 

“We got this, okay? As long as you’re with us, we won’t let anything else happen to you. You’ve been our big brother and protected us our whole lives. Now it’s our turn to protect you.” 

(Y/N) took a moment to look at Dean, then looked over at Sam. He gave a small, brief nod as he pulled them closer for a tighter embrace. 

“Thank you,” he spoke in a hushed tone. 

“Don’t even worry about it,” Sam shook his head. “You would do the same for us.” 

(Y/N) nodded.

“And if there’s one thing I can promise you, (Y/N), it’s that the next time I see that slimy bastard, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between his eyes,” Dean growled, holding his brother close.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but give a small smile, because, while the Winchesters weren’t good at comfort or expressing their griefs with one another, there was one thing that made them stand out amongst everyone else;

When they promised to kill something, nothing on God’s green Earth could get in their way.

[angel-in-your-basement]

hey I hope this isn't too personal but your blog kinda made me realize I'm a sadist and (possibly?) a domme? having lots of feelings about this revelation so I kinda have an odd question as like: how does one get over like cognitive dissonance with regards to self conception? sorry if that's worded weird but like, I'm a huge massive softy with like, hyperempathy type brain nonsense so its kinda hard to imagine myself actually like *as* that kinda person. I'm aware soft-domme type stuff exists but idk like how to put it together in my head? sorry if this is a lil incoherent I just woke up lol. thank you for your kink education stuff and I hope your weekend goes well ^w^

(also any general starting out safety tips are greatly appreciated cuz ngl I'm very in over my head and wanna nip any hazards in the bud before I try experimenting)

Hi there! Not too personal at all, I’m happy to talk about stuff like this. I meant to answer this sooner but I’ve just been too damn busy irl, so here I am now!

When we are presented with new information and our beliefs are not making sense anymore, it’s time to sit down and reevaluate those beliefs. If you haven’t already, I would go look at this post, which goes into more depth about shame and questioning ideas about kinks. Since that post covered shame, I won’t go into depth on here, but we are going to talk about beliefs.

Why does this happen?

What is generally happening in cases like you’re talking about, is that we have formed ideas about ourselves (ex. “I am a big softy + hyperempathetic person”) and about the world (ex. “Sadists are tough/mean/scary/whatever”), and then we create logical conclusions based on those ideas (ex. “I couldn’t be a sadist, because I am soft and not tough/mean/scary”). Which works fine until we get new information that contradicts our conclusions.

What do we do?

When that happens, and we want to resolve it, we gotta find some flexibility in those beliefs! In your case, this might look something like this:

What is “that kinda person”, and exactly what parts don’t fit for you? What parts do fit?

Where did the “that kinda person” idea come from?

Is this always the case? Are sadists 100% like that?

What might someone look like who was very empathetic and ALSO a sadist? How do you feel about the idea?

Why might it actually make sense that someone empathetic would be a sadist?

The whole point here is get a good idea of where the conflict is, why it’s a conflict and then looking for areas of flexibility.

I can’t answer those questions for you, but here is a couple things from my experience that may be useful. I have known a lot of sadists, and just like every other group of people, they vary widely, but my favourite sadists have always been the people who are big, empathetic teddy bears who want to take care of me and coddle me just as much as they want to hurt me. I, myself, am like you, where I am very empathetic but I also very much enjoy psychological sadism.

Part of it, too, is that it just takes time to warm up to these new ideas, and you don’t need to go straight into the hardcore stuff. You can integrate sadism with basically any other kink, and sadism can look a ton of different ways. If it’s more that you like the idea of seeing someone struggling or being afraid, then even stuff like giving someone pleasure or taking care of them can be sadistic. And if you’re more into the actual act of inflicting pain, then you can do it in ways where people are enthusiastically encouraging you the whole time, if that’s what you need. You can also be a sadistic sub! Honestly, I think that’s the wonderful thing about kink - there’s a million ways to mix and match, and cater your experiences to exactly what you like.

Re: starting out safety tips, I think there’s already lots of good resources on this, so look into things like negotiation, safewords, SSC/RACK, red flags, etc. This post is already getting long so I’ll just say one thing that I don’t see talked about enough.

When you’re exploring new stuff and especially new relationships/dynamics, it’s very easy to get swept up by the emotions of it, particularly if you’re a people pleasing type person. All of the bad experiences I have had have stemmed from this - from being too excited and not being able to look at the situation rationally. So imo, it’s important to have clear boundaries for yourself (i.e. I will not do any sex stuff with someone until we have talked about xyz), and to have a plan to keep yourself safe that works under the assumption that you will likely be too enamoured to want to pull yourself away from the dynamic. Having platonic kinky friends really helps with this stuff! What all that actually looks like is a whole other discussion, so I’ll save that for another day.

[carmenized-onions]

and i’m back with another yap session🤭okay okay, there were some parts that i forgot to mention last time so hopefully i can hit them this time and feel less insane😀

1. SYD AND TONY!!! i’ve been wanting to touch on them for a while but i never know how to do in a way that makes sense?? BUT THE FRIENDSHIP IS SO PRECIOUS, I CAN’T. they remind of the tiktok sound that’s like “we were girls together” and i literally can’t get that outta my head with them🥺 i think i just love reading about tony and the rest of the gang?? like i love seeing how they fit into the chaotic puzzle that was the beef– ESPECIALLY with all the new changes happening!! plus carmy’s reactions to tony’s dynamic with everyone is actually hilarious😭 like when he was so pressed that ppl have their own nicknames for her. like carmy, please remember to breathe LMAOOO

2. also the current chapters are still making me wanna run up my WALLS😭i don’t think i ever know peace anymore… WHAT DO MEAN THE WORSE DAY IF THEIR LIVES IS COMING?? SAVE ME?? IM SCARED??

3. and carmy’s so sick and twisted but like me too so it’s cool😎 but in all seriousness, it reminds me of that feeling of being in a 3 person friend group but knowing there’s a duo and you’re not apart of it (am i articulating this properly?? idk??) it’s such an odd feeling to be jealous of something that you know you probably shouldn’t be. like just because they’re besties, doesn’t mean that they care for you any less. but i also get his desire to wanting to be her person and not just the little brother full in but then again, you can’t even blame him for feeling like that cause WHO WOULDN’T??

AHHH THERES SO MUCH MORE I WANNA SAY but this is getting kinda long so i will hold off‼️again, just wanna reiterate how much your writing makes me wanna ascend into the divine plane; it literally so amazingggg😫 tysm for reading this certified long ass yap session🫶🏾

Cannot define enough how much I love these yap sessions, literally always feel free to send me any and all fleeting thoughts in the brain box.

aside: new chapter uhhhh Sunday probably? Maybe tomorrow possibly? Pending how fast I am. I'm trying to get the next two chapters drafts done together so I can refine the first one with the knowledge of what's gonna happen in the second. Cause n Effect, All That.

ANYWAYS, you can be incoherent-- Just so you know-- It's my job to make sense of what's in my inbox, u don't have to work on that. BUT YES I LOVE WRITIN EM, I am slowly more and more just writing bits and pieces of my own friendships and isms into them. So, they're a delight of memories, to write about. AND VERY MUCH SO WE WERE GIRLS TOGETHER. I think that's literally a line, in delivery fees, something like 'you become girls, together' cause it's just ! regress! in a good way hehe.

I love writing Tony with the idea of a season 3 Bear-- Because it's this weird thing where she is simultaneously new and old-- And everything to her is also new and old. It's this weird fucking neo-nostalgia that's really fun to chew on. AND YES HE'S SO CREASED.

I try to put myself in the perspective of the perspective I'm writing for, with whatever, and when I was writing Carmen's chapter I was like this stupid motherfucker Richie got to do all this shit and hae all these stupid nicknames why the FUCK DO YOU WANT TO SAY HI TO HIM?? RICHIE!!!!?!?!??!?! And then reading it back now, a week or so later, I was like Wow. Kind of a lot, bro. Lets both take a step back.

2. Your fears are valid. Well. Is that what I'm supposed to say here? Hm. Here's what I'll say, I haven't gotten to the bad bad part, yet. So like, it could end up being not that bad, to you guys. To me it's bad. It's really bad. But like, maybe you're fine. ALSO 3RD OR 4TH WORST DAY I SAID-- JUST THE WORST FRIDAY. Because I had to give them Top something, I just needed to get specific.

3. As the littlest sibling, 100%. I can't see myself being friends with any of my older brothers' friends, so the idea of becoming one of their friends and posthumously finding out they were best friends with my brother? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? DID THEY TELL YOU ABOUT ME? DO YOU THINK I'M LITTLE BABY LITTLE STUPID? And it's also like, just being friends with All of The Beef is like ohhhhh, I remember it took me a long time to warm up and make my way with them, but for you it was probably so easy cause you're just like that, which is why I like you so why do I feel angry about that !!!

AND ONCE AGAIN, THANK YOU THANK YOU, FEEL FREE TO YELL IN MY INBOX WHENEVER. P.s if anyone made it this far, u got me. I'm makin' a taglist. Reply/DM/Ask to be added!

But if you wanna be added,,,, you gotta send an essay in with it baby, or I simply won't it's the RULES!

p.s i really do love u so dearly for sending in your thoughts thank u thank u angel <3

[strawberryfemmesapphic]

Chapter Two of ‘A Coven Shrouded In Violets’

The last thing I remember was being shot from the tree I was perched in, watching over the coven we were supposed to attack. Then the sizzling pain of an arrow latched into my hip, causing me to fall from the tree and hit the ground which broke my leg. I don’t remember anything after that.

…

I woke up in a dimly lit room. The smell of spices and lavender filled my nose as I drifted into consciousness. A freckled face came into my peripheral vision, green eyes and ginger hair.

An angel? No…a witch.

I immediately grab for the dagger kept in my boot, only to realize that it’s not there. I then try to sit up but gasp as lava hot pain shoots up my leg and into my hip.

“You got shot” the freckled face says as she stands up and helps me sit so I can eat, “I had to save you…though I wouldn’t have cared if the wolves got you first” her voice has the faintest accent, common for witches.

“Well then why did you save me?”

“Because you were betrayed by your hunting party, and that is even more unforgivable” she says it so calmly as she give me a bowl of soup. That’s where the smell of spices came from.

I raise an eyebrow at her

“It’s not poisoned. If it was, you’d be dead as soon as you touched the bowl” her lips quirk up into the smallest smile.

“So….i owe you a life debt now. Since you saved mine,” I drawl out slowly, keeping my golden eyes on her. She spins around so fast that she drops a pot of dirt she was holding, “excuse me?”

“I can’t leave your side until I save your life in return” I clarify, eyes bore into hers.

“I’d rather be burned at the stake then work with a witch hunter” she snarls, reaching for a fire poker to prod at the flames.

“That can be arranged” A smirk crawls up my lips as she shoots me a look taken directly out of the nightmares of children.

This woman isn't like the witches we’d been told about during training; she doesn't have the sharp nails or the long noses…maybe we were just told stories to scare us. We began our training when we turned twelve.

“I hate humans, but I hate disloyalty more” the accented voice comes back, washing over me like a beautiful poison.

“Interesting code of morals for a witch. I thought you were all into cursing people and hiding in plain sight” I shot back, wanting to get a rise out of her.

The witch sighs “Fine. I have to go to the mountains as my coven’s delegate. The Council of Witches meets every three years to discuss…things,” her eyes flick to me for a second before continuing, “You will accompany me there”

…

Our journey starts out with utter silence. For three days the witch doesn't speak to me, which I can't blame her for since my hunting party was the one that almost kill her coven and now she's stuck with me.

Finally, we make camp in a secluded cave, shelter from the rain and any predators the witch tells me. She makes a fire by throwing dirt into the air, whispering something incoherent, and as soon as the dirt touches the ground, sparks appear at our feet. The sound of thunder surrounds us as she hands me a small flask of soup and medicine she brought “You’re no good to me weak or dead” is all she spits out. I try to make myself as small as possible, slowly drinking the soup and medicine.

“I’m Wren” the words escape my lips randomly. She looks over and studies me with her beautiful green eyes before rolling onto her side to sleep with her back to me.

…

A week passes before something happens that puts a chip in the witches walls and I make a breakthrough. It happens because a loud splash wakes me from sleep, causing me to shoot up from where I slept, gasping in pain once again at the still-healing wound in my leg and hip. Ignoring it, I stumble out and follow where the splash came from until I reach a lake…where a lake monster is wrestling with the witch. She is hopelessly loosing, whatever spells she tries are useless against the monster. It wraps it’s slimy arms around her and yanks her down under the water.

I wait for her to resurface, but nothing happens, so without thinking, I launch myself into the lake, stabbing at the monster with my knife and grab at the witch, hauling her to safety. Her red hair is soaked and stringy, I cant hear her breathing so I search for a pulse. Nothing. I do the next best thing, I press my hands to her chest like we were trained to do and roll her onto her side as water shoots out of her mouth. She gasps for air as water expells from her lungs. I hit her on the back a couple of times to help the water leave faster. She gives me an angry look as she stumbles to her feet and storms off, soaking wet but no less breathtaking.

Anger wells up inside of me as I walk after her, catching up and shoving her against a tree, my gold eyes bore into her blue ones. I’m taller than her by at least a head which makes me look smaller as I look down on her and plunge into my words “Look, I know this isnt an ideal situation. You dont like me and I dont like you, but we have to at least be civil if we want to survive. You cant swim and I cant walk properly. We need each other if you’re going to get to that mountain” my fingernails dig into her arms as I press her against the tree, wanting my anger to sink into her bones.

“Astrid” her voice is quiet and she refuuses to look at me.

“What?”

“My name is Astrid”

She repeats her name as we sit around a fire she made, the spoon in the small pot of soup we share.

“I’m not a full witch. I can only heal. That’s why I don’t actually live with my coven. When your hunting party came to the woods near us, they were looking for me because they knew I was the one who knew how to stop the poisons that other covens were spreading and they wanted me alive. When they shot you, the strings around their neck choked them and they died” this last bit throws me into a deep hole of confusion and anger. These people who I’d known since I was twelve had betrayed me for no reason and then got what they deserved, I looked down at my own string necklace that we all knew would kill me I betrayed my kin.

“Why did they die but I didnt?”

“You almost did” is all Astrid says.

“So you know how to stop the poisons the other covens are spreading. And that’s why you want to go to the council? Can you talk to them?” I ask, changing the subject, to which she snorts, “hell no. They have all the poisons hidden amongst members of the coven, I’m going to steal each one and make it so the poison can’t hurt anyone” her green eyes light up with nervous glee at telling someone this.

I nod slowly, listening intently as I wrap the injury that twists around her arm, obvious teeth marks from the lake monster embedded in her skin. Hopefully, this monster wasn't poisonous, is the only thing circling around in my thoughts. Astrid looks up from the fire at me,

“Thank you, for helping me earlier”

“Well you saved my life and now I saved yours” I shrug, “so does that mean my life debt is over?”

“Stay” Astrid whispers and as the fire fades, I think I see a smile and a flash of fangs.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

it's dangerous to go alone

(formerly known as this is our get-along fic)

two years after shadow and vio's evil takeover, the gang reunites for dinner. this is a multi-chapter continuation of the oneshot "thank darkness for that," which introduces a corruption-type au that's actually super chill. definitely read the one-shot before following this one!

chapter 3 of 7: the dungeon (4950 words)

Vio blinks tears out of his eyes as he surveys the group, all of whom look… well, bewildered is the best word he has for it. Not angry, not hurt, not even annoyed—just, varying degrees of confused. Like they’ve just now realized that there’s something real between the Kings of Hyrule, that they’d been so close to losing it before and fought so hard to keep each other close. That maybe, as hurtful as it’d been, their betrayal hadn’t been without good reason. That they’d had something to lose, and they’d been scared, and they chose the best of several bad options to preserve the love they’d found against all odds.

Or maybe they are just annoyed. Vio’s never been good at reading people, anyway.

read the full chapter on ao3 or under the cut:

There appears to be a sword to Vio’s throat.

He hears himself mutter incoherently, wincing at the cold steel against his cheekbone. The world slowly comes into focus, and after a few rapid blinks Vio can identify the immediate threat. “Hey! Stop!”

Green scowls above Vio and holds his blade steady. Vio can tell now that he’s seated in a chair… and judging by the stiffness of his arms, also tied to it.

“What did you do?” Green demands. Vio’s mind races—how does Green have his sword? Where are they? Where is Shadow?

“I didn’t do anything,” Vio says, experimentally shifting his lower body. Yes, he is most definitely tied to this chair. “Why did you tie me up?”

Green rolls his eyes. “I didn’t.”

Vio wants to assess his surroundings, but that’s not really possible with a blade to his throat. “Green, put it away, I need to see where we are.”

“Looks like the castle dungeons,” Zelda says, out of Vio’s line of sight. Vio doesn’t know if he’s relieved.

“Is everyone here?” he asks Green, refusing to be intimidated despite the power imbalance between them. Green seems to notice this, and his grip on the sword tightens.

“Yes,” Green says, “everyone’s here.”

“Hi!” Red calls, somehow chipper as always.

“You did this,” Blue echo’s Green’s sentiment, and Vio pretends he’s not there at all. Green, Zelda, Red, and Blue—that just leaves…

“Shadow?” Vio asks softly, unsure if he wants a response at all. Whatever—whoever—brought them all here, maybe they only wanted the four Heroes, and the Princess… maybe they left Shadow alone, maybe he could help them—

“Here,” a familiar voice says from behind Vio. “Tied to a chair, but here.”

Vio raises an eyebrow at Green. “We’re the only ones restrained, and you want me to believe you four had nothing to do with it?”

Vio can feel Shadow shifting around behind him, their chairs positioned back-to-back. Shadow moves a little too violently, slamming his head against Vio’s and causing Green to reflexively withdraw the sword.

“Ow,” Vio groans, wanting to rub his head but unable to do so.

“Sorry,” Shadow says sheepishly. “Wrong headbonk.”

Vio is so close to smiling at that, but maintains his grimace instead. “Put it away,” he tells Green again. “You know I’d never tie him up like this.”

Green considers this, his eyes searching Vio’s. “Fine,” he says after a beat, withdrawing the blade. “But I’m the only one here who’s armed.”

Vio nods, finally able to move his head freely. Zelda’s assessment of the space is correct—they are most definitely within the Hyrule Castle dungeons, a long underground system of rooms used for miscellaneous purposes. The stone floor and peeling wallpaper are dead giveaways, if the slight scent of mildew in the air wasn’t already enough. “Shadow?” he calls, craning his head backwards. “Does this room look familiar to you?”

“No, Vi, sorry. Also, are you okay? And do you know what’s going on?”

“Somewhat and no,” Vio sighs, trying to take better stock of the area. Green stands with the others, none of whom appear to be armed, in a large storeroom full of miscellaneous furniture. Wardrobes, desks, statues, sinks... random items of varying quality, all coated with a thick layer of dust.

“I recognize some of this stuff,” Zelda says, lightly kicking a velvet ottoman with her kitten heel.

“Probably got shoved down here when they stole the entire castle,” Blue says, crossing his arms.

Ah, yes. Vio remembers this room now, from their initial move-in two years ago. One of the first things he had done was call for the removal of Zelda and the original Link’s furniture from the castle’s main floor.

“More or less,” Vio admits, his ability to run a hand through his hair once again limited by the restraints. Really? I can’t even fidget now?

“Okaaaay,” Zelda says, really drawing out the middle of the word. Vio doubts she suspects them of planning this—she’s way too close with Shadow for that—but still, the cynicism is her voice is unmistakable. “But you can’t explain why we’re here. Or what knocked us out. Or why only Green got his sword back.”

“Or why we’re tied up,” Shadow adds, his voice cold. “Zelda, you can’t seriously think we’re behind whatever this is.”

She avoids him, continuing to stare Vio down. In a way, Vio is actually glad Shadow can’t see what’s going on, because the look on Zelda’s face would have him hurting for a week.

“Only Green got his sword back?” Vio asks, dodging Zelda’s interrogation entirely.

“Yeah,” Green says, still holding it in front of him. “Blue almost grabbed it first, but Red intercepted.”

“And how long have you all been conscious?”

“Only a few minutes,” Red answers, easily the least suspicious of the four. “This is all so weird. I think our soup may have been drugged.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Blue says, rolling his eyes. “By them.”

“It was the soup,” Shadow confirms. “I… hold on, can you at least turn me around so I can see everyone?”

Zelda looks to Green, who just shrugs. “Yes,” she says, her voice slightly apologetic. “One second, Shadow.”

Vio can hear his husband’s sigh of relief. Even in this bizarre and potentially dangerous predicament, he still cares what the others think of him.

“Thanks,” Shadow says as Zelda turns him around. Vio cranes his head to face him, trying and failing to muster a reassuring smile. Hylia, it’s torture not to take his hand...

“How do you know it was the soup?” Green asks, motioning to Shadow with his sword.

“ Hey, ” Vio says sharply. “Get that thing away from him.”

Green narrows his eyes at Vio, undoubtedly recalling his previous threat of banishment. He has too much to lose, Vio knows, between his ranch and his business and Zelda. He lowers the sword completely, although Vio can’t help but notice the implicit refusal to disarm himself completely.

“How do you know the soup was drugged?” Blue asks Shadow, picking up where Green left off.

Shadow shrugs. “You all ate it, and then passed out.”

“But you didn’t?”

“I ate the soup, but it didn’t do anything to me. I got knocked out the old-fashioned way.”

Yet again, Vio wishes he could fidget. He thinks best when he’s doing something with his hands, or when he can tie up his hair. Anything but just sitting here restrained, unable to even comfort his husband—

“So whoever drugged us,” Zelda says, “must have realized it didn’t work on you, and… what? Whacked you with a blunt object?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Harm towards Shadow Link,” Blue mutters to Red. “Sounds like someone’s getting banished.”

Vio has the strongest urge to bare his teeth.

Zelda ignores the snide comment and turns to Green. “I really don’t understand. Who would do something like this?”

As if answering her question, a small television comes to life in the corner of the room. It’s an ancient Sheikah device, something Vio had dismissed as a broken artifact rather than a functional object. But it’s definitely working now, its screen casting a sickly green light through the dark room.

“Hello, esteemed guests,” says a familiar voice, causing Vio and Shadow to immediately lock eyes. There’s no way it’s—

“Tingle Tingle Kooloo Limpah!” exclaims the man himself, who stands uncomfortably close to the camera with a deeply off-putting smile. Like, even more deeply off-putting than usual.

Vio gasps. What the actual—

“Fun times ahead, gang!” Tingle exclaims, although his sinister tone of voice indicates otherwise.

“I… what?” Shadow asks in a choked voice.

“He can’t hear you, dumbass,” Blue says, and Green shushes them both.

“You see, I’ve been working on this plan for some time now,” Tingle says, each word echoing through the cavernous space. “Ever since I watched the Kings of Hyrule steal the throne from under their allies’ noses, and I thought to myself, ‘well, why can’t I do that too?’”

Vio’s jaw drops. This can’t possibly be happening. Tingle is harmless! He’s… he’s not nearly as smart as Vio and Shadow, as capable, as—

“So I played the long game,” Tingle explains. “I gained the Kings’ trust, kept my plan on the back-burner—much like the delicious pumpkin soup I prepared for you this evening—until the time was right to finally strike. And now you’re all here, trapped within the devious dungeons of Hyrule Castle, surrounded by dangerous foes you have no hope of surviving!”

Vio watches Blue grab Red’s hand, taking the other man by surprise. He then turns to Shadow, whose expression of betrayal is so foreign that it makes Vio’s heart ache.

“Sooooo if you’re wondering how I actually plan to take the throne,” Tingle says, “it’s actually a pretty neat scheme: trap you six in a scary murder dungeon, knowing that the Kings’ guests already have a two-year grudge against them. Make sure Your Majesties start out at a huge disadvantage. I don’t care if you guys actually kill each other—if not, I’ve set up enough monsters and traps to get the job done. I just know that when I stop by in a few hours and discover your bodies, and I tell the whole kingdom of Hyrule that the scorned ex-Heroes and ex-Princess murdered the Kings and perished in the process, they’ll be so stricken with grief and confusion that they’ll have to accept me as their ruler!”

Tingle laughs maniacally, shaking the camera in the process. Vio and Shadow lock eyes again.

“Oh, and King Shadow can’t use his powers,” Tingle adds. “I’ve gotta make a special soup for that, I’ll just knock him out with a big spoon or something.”

“I don’t think he ended up going with the spoon,” Shadow says, his eyes looking upward. Vio winces, noticing the nasty bump poking through Shadow’s dark hair. If Vio gets through this alive, he is going to strangle that tiny green bastard with his bare hands…

“He can still shapeshift, though,” Tingle says brightly. “Couldn’t figure out a way to nerf that one—see? I’m not a total genius.”

Green turns to Vio. “You know, he kind of sounds like you.”

“Not the time,” Zelda scolds him, while Blue releases a short laugh.

“Anyway, that’s about it," Tingle says. “Sorry it had to be this way—except no, I’m really not. Have fun!”

The TV shuts off on its own, leaving the room in stunned silence. That is, until Blue walks up to Vio, somehow grinning despite the circumstances.

“How does it feel?” he asks, and Vio knows exactly what he means. He sees the irony in the situation. Tingle’s bizarre plan has certain similarities to what he and Shadow had done to the others two years ago: convincing them to give up their connections to the Triforce, only to leave them high and dry and cheat their way into power… because it had been cheating, with Shadow’s shapeshifting, they both know it. But the things they had done with their power—uniting the Light and Dark worlds, healing the land of Hyrule, separating the state from a deeply flawed church—had always felt like it made up for their less-than-legitimate ascension.

But they had gotten cocky, obviously, somewhere down the line. And now here they are, powerless, at the mercy of the same former allies they had once betrayed in a chillingly similar manner.

Vio doesn’t think of Hylia very often anymore—doesn’t address her in his head, doesn’t see himself as one of her Chosen Heroes. But in this moment, he has to hand it to her: Well-played, Goddess. Well-played.

“You need to untie us,” Shadow urges the others, “right now.”

Blue opens his mouth, but Green cuts him off. “Fine. You two know this place the best, you’re our best chance out of here.”

“And we’re not going to consider just leaving them behind?” Blue demands as Green cuts Shadow free. “They did this to themselves.”

Shadow stands, shaking out his arms and legs. Green seems to hesitate and Shadow rolls his eyes, extending his sharp nails like a cat. He swipes at Vio’s restraints, startling his husband in the process.

“I forgot you could do that,” Vio mutters as Shadow offers him a hand. He takes it and allows himself to be lifted to his feet, then pulled into a very tight hug. They stay like that for ten seconds, twenty seconds… until Green finally clears his throat.

“We need a plan,” he says, returning his sword to its scabbard. Vio and Shadow separate and join the group in a circle formation. “I don’t care about stopping Tingle from taking the throne,” Green continues. “I just want to get out of here and enjoy my normal life on the ranch.”

“You might not have a normal life to enjoy, if Tingle takes the throne,” Zelda counters. “Shadow and Vio know what they’re doing. I know what I’m doing, as their advisor. Hyrule would probably be a nightmare with Tringle running it.”

“Whatever,” Green says. Zelda shakes her head, clearly wanting to say more, but deciding against it.

Red sniffles, clearly trying to put on a brave face. “Guys, a plan?”

“Well, we first need to escape this room,” Vio tells the group. “Once we can pinpoint where we are, within the dungeons, we’ll be able to determine a way out.”

“I’ll check for doors,” Zelda volunteers. “Green, you can help.”

Vio nods at them, more comfortable in this position of relative authority than he’s been all evening. He’s a planner, always has been, and his success record speaks for itself.

For the sake of Vio’s ego, Tingle doesn’t count.

“He mentioned monsters,” Blue says, his eyes scanning the space. “Nothing in here, which means we’re probably supposed to escape this room at least. Green’s got his sword, but the rest of us…”

Red smiles, probably happy that Blue seems to be playing along. “We’re in a room full of random stuff, I’m sure we can find some weapons!”

“There’s nothing here,  just a bunch of stolen furniture.”

“We can be creative,” Red insists. “Improvised weapons are fun!” In demonstration, he grabs a fireplace poker off a nearby couch. “See?”

Shadow and Vio exchange a look, then shrug. “I have an idea,” Shadow says, a mischievous grin on his face. He walks over to a small table and grabs one of the matching wooden chairs, hoisting it up for Vio’s approval.

“Seems a bit impractical,” Vio says, holding his chin in his hand. He wants to ask his beloved husband why a fucking chair is his weapon of choice, but doesn’t want to waste any more time than they already have.“Here,” he says, crossing over to join Shadow. “Hold it steady.”

Shadow raises an eyebrow but does as he’s told. Vio grabs at one of the chair’s legs and pulls, muscles straining with effort. He knows he can do this, he just…

A loud crack startles Vio out of his concentration. Blue stands a few feet away, shit-eating grin on his face, offering Vio a chair leg identical to the one he had been trying to break free. “Your Highness,” he says with a flourish.

Vio feels himself blushing from embarrassment, and anger, and just— really? Blue had to make him look so unimpressive in front of Shadow? His husband?

“Aw, babe,” Shadow says, using one of their rarer petnames. “It was your idea, that’s what counts.” He ruffles Vio’s hair and takes the improvised weapon from Blue without a word of thanks.

Vio grabs the chair leg from Shadow’s hands and breaks it in half against his thigh. Now it’s Shadow’s turn to blush as he accepts the jagged wooden stake.

“You guys are weird,” Red says, wrinkling his nose. “Blue, what’s your weapon?”

“Just like I told the guards: these hands.”

“Okay, but you need a real weapon.”

“Fine,” Blue says, grabbing a snow globe from Zelda’s old desk. “You happy now?”

Red answers with an unironic hum of assent, and Vio starts to wonder if he and Shadow aren’t the only gay people in the room. Green had mentioned something at the dinner, hadn’t he?

“Found a door!” Zelda calls from across the room. Vio, Shadow, Red, and Blue run over to join her and Green at the furniture chamber’s single exit.

“It’s locked,” Green says. “We already checked.”

Vio tries the door knob anyway. No luck.

Red cocks his head. “Do we have to find a key?”

“Don’t think so,” Blue tells him. “Look up.”

They all do, noticing an oval-shaped switch above the doorframe.

“It looks kind of like an eye,” Shadow observes.

Vio nods. “I’ve seem this kind of thing before, in books. I think we’re supposed to shoot it. If I only had my bow, I could—”

“You should get a weapon,” Red whispers to Zelda. “Anything you can grab.”

Zelda nods, and wanders back into the sea of furniture. Vio clears his throat indignantly. “I said, if I only had my bow—”

Blue throws his snow globe at the switch, glass smashing against metal. Liquid drips inside the eyeball, causing it to close, and a loud… noise?… plays through the room. It’s a short melody, only a few notes, completely unknown to Vio but also strangely familiar.

“Do you guys hear that?’ Vio asks the group. Zelda shakes her head, but everyone else—all the various Links—nod. Vio fidgets with the scrunchie on his wrist. “Weird.”

“Got a weapon!” Zelda announces, brandishing something small in her right hand. “Fountain pen. Pointy.”

“That’s…” Green begins to say, but then stops. “You know what, sure, that’s great.” He puts a hand on the door knob and turns to the group. “Everyone ready?”

Vio feels Shadow take his hand and gives him an uneasy smile. “Yeah,” he says, and Shadow nods.

Red holds his fireplace poker in front of both him and Blue, who now truly only has his hands to defend himself. “We’re ready,” Red says, and Vio has to hand it to him—he can be fierce when he wants to be.

Zelda twirls the fountain pen in her hand. “Open it, Green.”

And so he does, and everyone braces themselves for the worst: monsters, traps, fire, ice, electricity or poison gas. But outside the room, they only see an empty hallway, silent and seemingly free of environmental hazards.

Vio almost expects Blue to volunteer him and Shadow to test the hallway’s safety, but… well, they’d all held the Triforce of Courage at some point, hadn’t they? Except for Zelda, whose divine wisdom would probably have kept her out of this situation if she were acting alone.

They all step out together into the hallway, weapons drawn, incessant bickering turned to nervous silence. Compared to this, Vio thinks he might prefer the bickering.

“What’s at the end of the hall?” Shadow asks between gritted teeth. The group keeps formation as they sidestep to their left, ignoring the obvious dead end to their right.

“Does anyone feel kind of silly?” Vio asks as they continue this awkward manner of movement. “I think we can just walk like normal.”

“Your funeral, nerd,” Blue says, but it’s not with the bite Vio would expect. It’s almost playful, the same kind of tone he’d use to tease Vio before he…

“As much as I hate to admit it,” Green says, “I agree with Vio,”

Red gives him a thumbs up, peering down the dark hallway. “Breaking formation in five, four, three, two… one!”

The six separate and collectively hold their breath.

Nothing happens.

“Well, that’s nice,” Red says, holding his hands on his hips. He walks into the dark with that ever-present smile. “Maybe we just have to— FUCK! ”

“Red!” Blue shouts, immediately running to his aid. Out of the corner of his eye, Vio sees Zelda and Shadow making eye contact.

“Hylia, I hope not,” Shadow mutters to her. Zelda covers her mouth to hide a smirk.

Vio and Green follow Blue to Red, who sits on the ground and shoves them away. “Guys, I’m fine! Just ran into a wall. It was closer than I thought.”

“Glad you’re okay,” Vio says, and means it. Red beams.

“We need some light,” Zelda says as she and Shadow join the group. “I can’t see what’s on the wall.”

“If only Miss Fairy were here…” Red says as Blue helps him to his feet.

“I can take a look,” Shadow offers, gently parting the group. “I have Dark World night vision. More a biological feature than a magic power, so Tingle’s potion shouldn’t have affected it.”

“What do you see?” Vio asks, wrapping his arms around Shadow from behind. He feels Shadow’s body relax in his arms, and thanks the darkness for hiding the act of physical affection. If Blue teases him about his relationship with Shadow one more time, he might just start teasing him back about Red.

“It looks like some kind of puzzle,” Shadow says slowly. “A big padlock on the door, and four… keyholes?  But they’re, like, bigger. Vertical. You could fit, like, a sword in there. Four of them, actually.”

“So...” Vio hears Zelda say, “four swords?”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Well, I’m holding onto mine,” Green tells the group. “At least, unless we all find ours.”

“Sounds like we just might,” Vio says, stepping out of the dark. He hears a small disappointed noise from Shadow when he tears himself away.

Blue pinches the bridge of his nose. “I want to make sure Shadow Link was telling the truth.”

“ Just Shadow, ” Zelda, Vio, and Red correct him in unison.

“Fine, Shadow, whatever.”

“Go ahead,” Shadow says, motioning towards the dark corridor. “You can feel for the padlock and keyholes.”

They watch Blue disappear into the darkness, and Vio can see on Green’s face how torn he is between him and the others. To think that all the times they’d brunched together, Green had still been so bitter about Vio’s betrayal… he’d disguised it pretty well, but still. If Vio had known Green was still so angry, he probably wouldn’t have gone for Zelda’s dinner party idea in the first place.

I should be more like Shadow, Vio reminds himself. Shadow, who clearly believes in his heart that they’ll all come around eventually. Shadow, who had somehow managed to heal his relationship with Zelda, the same person he’d kidnapped, usurped, and tricked into giving up her Triforce of Wisdom. Shadow, who’d forgiven Vio for his own manipulations, and had stood unwaveringly by his side ever since.

 “Shadow’s right,” Blue calls reluctantly from the darkness. “Feels exactly how he described.”

“No surprise there,” Zelda mutters, loud enough so Shadow can hear. Vio decides that if they survive, he’s going to find a way to thank her for being Shadow’s #2 defender—maybe send her an edible arrangement or something.

Vio’s still #1, though. Always.

The second Blue passes the threshold between dark and light, Vio hears that weird melody again. Judging by the looks on the others’ faces, so do they.

“Must mean something’s happened,” Vio tells Shadow, who nods. “Oh, Zelda, it’s that noise again.”

“Well, now I just feel like I’m missing out.”

Two edible arrangements, Vio amends, for all her troubles.

“I think it’s clear what we have to do,” Green says, leading the group to the other end of the hall. He motions to three doors on the wall, across from the one they entered through. Vio frowns. Had he missed those? He could have sworn they weren’t there before…

“It’s pretty obvious,” Green continues, “that this whole dungeon is some sort of puzzle. We discovered the keyholes at the end of the hall, realized we need to find the three remaining swords, heard the weird noise, and look! Three doors have magically appeared! I wonder what could possibly be inside.”

“Maybe our swords,” Red says thoughtfully. Blue looks like he wants to mock him for missing Green’s sarcasm, but ends up just nodding instead.

“Whatever we do,” Vio says, “we definitely shouldn’t split up.”

“I disagree,” argues Blue, surprising no one. “We don’t have a lot of time. There are three doors and six of us—if we split into teams of two, we could be back here with all the swords as soon as possible.”

Green considers the conflicting viewpoints, and then turns to Zelda. “What do you think?”

“I think we should split up,” she admits, cringing as the words leave her mouth. “I know it’s not the wise thing to do, but...”

“Nah, you’re right,” Shadow cuts in. “I see what you’re saying, Vio, but Tingle was pretty clear about the importance of urgency. If he gets enough time to take the throne, that’s going to be a giant mess for us to deal with when we beat this thing.”

When , Shadow’s voice echoes through Vio’s head. When we beat this thing.

“I’m okay splitting up,” Red says. “I trust you guys.”

Vio sighs at that, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fine. We can split up. Which door should we take?”

Blue raises an eyebrow. “You mean you and Shadow? You’re not going anywhere together. You might be the smart one, but we’re not stupid.”

“Blue…” Green mutters it warningly, but also doesn’t correct his implied accusation.

Vio takes Shadow’s hand and holds it tight. “We’re not going to betray you again,” he says. “But we’re about to enter what I assume are dangerous situations, and my husband and I need to have each other’s backs. Not to mention the multiple threats you’ve made against him, Blue—I’m not leaving anyone alone with Shadow, not until this is over and we’re all safe.”

Red, Blue, Green, and Zelda exchange uneasy glances. Shadow sighs.

“Vi, I think they’re right about this too.”

Vio scowls, turning his head to face his husband. “Shadow, you don’t owe them anything. You don’t need to prove anything. I want you alive, and me alive, and going along with the group to win their favor isn’t worth the threat it poses to our well-being.”

Shadow sighs again, gently sliding his hand out of Vio’s. He takes Vio’s face in both hands, pulls him in close so their foreheads touch.

“I trust Zelda,” Shadow says quietly, although the others can absolutely hear him. “You know she wouldn’t hurt me.”

“But I have to protect you,” Vio argues, his face growing pale. “I already almost lost you once, I can’t go through that again.”

Shadow chuckles. “Well, to be fair, you were the one who was going to kill me in the first place…”

“Shadow. Please.”

Shadow gives Vio the smallest smile and pulls him in for a kiss. Vio can hear Blue’s exaggerated gag, followed by someone elbowing him the gut, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except him and Shadow, because that’s who he chose two years ago, and he has not once regretted it since.

“I fought for you too, you know,” Shadow says, this time in a voice low enough that Vio knows it’s meant only for him. “I will always fight for you. For us. And right now, I really think our best chance of getting out of here alive is splitting up. This is our castle, Vio—whatever’s in those rooms, chances are we put it there. It’d be unfair to the others to make them go in blind, even if one group will be doing that regardless.”

Vio takes a long, deep breath. Hylia, he thinks, why me? I mean, I know why me, but I swear…

“If you’re talking to the Goddess in your head again,” Shadow interrupts, “I’d suggest you find a more productive way to wish me good luck.”

Vio sighs and kisses his husband. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” They remain forehead-to-forehead, lost in each other’s eyes, because when it’s the two of them together they may as well be the only ones in the room—

“Red’s with me,” Blue says, yanking Vio by the shoulder. “Green, you take His Majesty. Zelda, you can have… the other one.”

Vio scowls at Blue and reaches for Shadow again. “Please be careful,” he says, and Shadow nods.

“I will. You too.”

“I love you. I know I just said it, but I want it to be the last thing we say, before we go, just in case…”

Shadow’s face softens. “Of course, Vi. I love you too.”

Vio blinks tears out of his eyes as he surveys the group, all of whom look… well, bewildered is the best word he has for it. Not angry, not hurt, not even annoyed—just, varying degrees of confused. Like they’ve just now realized that there’s something real between the Kings of Hyrule, that they’d been so close to losing it before and fought so hard to keep each other close. That maybe, as hurtful as it’d been, their betrayal hadn’t been without good reason. That they’d had something to lose, and they’d been scared, and they chose the best of several bad options to preserve the love they’d found against all odds.

Or maybe they are just annoyed. Vio’s never been good at reading people, anyway.

“I guess it’s you and me,” Green tells Vio as Shadow takes Zelda’s side. “How about Door #1?”

“Whatever,” Vio says, avoiding his eyes. He wants to turn to Shadow, see what door he and Zelda have chosen, but no… he must preserve that final moment, just in case it’s their last.

Now you listen to me, Vio tells—not asks—the Goddess in his head.

It will not be our last.

[sunriseverse]

i don’t follow anyone else into mdzs and i’m having thoughts so they’re going into your inbox (sorry… *rattles my cage*) but you know that quote that’s like “when is a monster not a monster? oh, when you love it” well i’m thinking about it specifically in the context of yi city. that’s all bye bye (*cage rattles louder*) (wait i have more to say because in the short time xue yang was actually shown friendship or love or care or however you wish to think of it he just decided to stop being evil. he just got bored. and then it crumbled in an instant and he started being evil again and *i’m shot by a sniper*)

okay. first of all. how dare you come to me, in this the time of my convalescence, and whack me over the head with the iron anvil that is this quote in this context. i’ll literally never be the same again and it’s your fault (<3333)

secondly. i am so honoured you came to me with this!!!!!! i am not generally someone people turn to with their concepts and thoughts (as much as i wish it was different…………alas!), so thank you! i will attempt to answer this with the same care and love i can see even in your short ask. this is going under the cut because uh. it got long. oops!

the thing about xy is, to me, he reads very much as the other side of the coin that jgy is on, to drag my other mdzs beloved into this. in both cases, they’re seen as the lowest of the low—jgy’s mother is a sex worker, and xy is an orphan with no social status. both of them are demonstrated to be talented and have a drive to learn—jgy is a fucking excellent…….whatever his position with the nie is (i can never remember what it’s called, in cql or in the novel, but it doesn’t matter much; he’s undeniably good at his job), spy, sect leader, and yes, xiandu/chief cultivator. xy, on the other hand, is undeniably fucking brilliant—he manages to drag himself into cultivation basically without any help for most of his formative years, and then makes sense of wwx’s basically incoherent ramblings and more coherent, but still incredibly hard to parse to anyone who doesn’t 1. know what they’re looking at or 2. isn’t able to make incredible leaps of logic to connect his work—because wwx wasn’t just a genius, he was a literal, actual pioneer; no one had done what he was doing before—notes. i think this is part of why jgy keeps xy around for so long, even if he doesn’t enjoy his methods—he sees a bit of himself in him. (also, xy is dead useful—dead messy and slightly sadistic, too, but hey, we all have our faults, some of us are just a bit more bloody about them.)

the thing is, though—xy demonstratively did not have any sort of love shown to him at all, possibly ever, in any way, up until yi city. jgy, whose life sucks in so many other ways, had two saving graces of connection: his mother, and lxc. xy had………….no one. zilch. nada. sifir. ling. and so forth. you could argue this is because he makes himself unlovable, but if you think about that for more than three seconds, it’s wildly clear that it’s a (very shitty, self-destructive) coping mechanism—if they’re going to call me trash, if they’re going to call me insane, if they’re going to call me a monster, a nightmare—fine, i will be. i’ll take control of the narrative and show them just how bad i can be.

and then…………yi city. a man who doesn’t even know who he is finds him bloodied and weak, and doesn’t stab him in the back. he carries him to his home, and he cares for him. and xy, i would imagine, is waiting, this entire time, for the other show to drop. surely, he’s going to recognise him. surely he’s going to turn around and say, ah hah, i’ve got you now, you monster! i’m going to take you to the authorities and have them finish you off, because you are a bad person and i am a good person and that’s how this goes. and the entire time, he’s telling himself—as soon as it does, i’m going to kill him. as soon as it does, i’m going to take my revenge. but it………..doesn’t. xxc keeps weaving baskets with him. and going to the market with him. and living his life with him. turning his back and not assuming xy is going to stick jiangzai in it. (and probably telling him terrible jokes that barely count as jokes that xy laughs at far more loudly than he really needs to, because half the comedy is watching the gentle breeze be so goddamn bad at something.)

and xy, for the first time in his life, realises: oh shit. maybe i do want this. maybe i do want peace, of a mundane variety. maybe making myself sharp and harsh and hating and deadly wasn’t making me happy. maybe…………..being happy is letting your guard down around someone, and they don’t take advantage of it. (he would never think the word love, i think, even with a sword at his throat—“trust” is as close as he is ever going to allow himself to come to conceptualising it, less a fuckton of emotional development and growth, but i digress.) and like………..yes, it’s functionally a castle built on a bed of sand. at the start, xy deceives xxc into doing a fuckton of objectively bad shit. he’s the reason sl lost his eyes, and the reason xxc gave his up, and the reason the gentle breeze and the winter frost are no longer spoken of in the same sentence. but also—not to engage in therapy speak here, but this is something where you kind of have to employ dialectical thought: he can have done horrible fucked up things, and still want love. he can have hurt xxc, and be loved by him. he can have done bad, and have stopped doing so. he can be bad, and still be a person. (that last one, i think, is something xxc would fully agree with—were he to have found out xy was, well, xy, but living with him and not causing any trouble (unless you count threatening the farmers at the market who try and cheat a blind man out of his meagre savings, but i think a qing and i are both in agreement that this isn’t really a crime), i think he would not have killed him. i don’t even think he would have turned him in to the authorities. i think xy would be in for, possibly, in the future, a very long conversation he wouldn’t particularly enjoy due to its necessitating of laying things bare, but he would survive it. i think, at the end of things, xxc’s guiding philosophy in life is not, for all his idealism, that things are immutable—i think he would be pleased that xy has changed his ways, and decided to do good, rather than continuing to harm others.)

and then he fucks up. or sl fucks up. or they both fuck up. whose fault it is doesn’t matter; the end result is the same: xy’s temporary peace, his safe haven, crumbles. and he turns back to who he was before, because at least that’s easy. at least that’s certain. peace, happiness, trust—that’s all dust on the wind. you can’t put stock in that, his experience has clearly taught him that, once again, more harshly than anything else. you can love a monster, but if you leave it—it’s going to be a monster again, because that’s easier than trying to crawl on its hands and knees through the mud and pay penance by itself.

[miraculosus]

Regardless of what he may believe, Gabriel is not actually entitled to anything. I’m willing to accept that in-universe, magical terrorism is less severe than standard logic would suggest, and I can see how Gabriel’s wish fulfillment isn’t a “real win” if he doesn’t taste it. And if he dies he does in a way lose it all, but a legacy ascribed to him which he did not earn lives on…

The idea that a happy ending for Adrien is impossible if he knows the truth is disheartening to say the least. A peaceful happy ending this season is not possible sure. I would prefer a difficult yet hopeful/optimistic season finale as a stepping stone to further developments. But it’s as you said back in October, the light-hearted tone of the show can’t survive the weight of Adrien’s storyline were it treated realistically, also it’s not his show so everything’s fine marinette saves the day yay omg 18 permanent heroes im drooling think of the toys!

This audacious grinch believes happiness in ignorance - not grounded in reality - is precarious, fragile and worth precious little (just like sentiadriens existence???/omg)… I could go off ranting like many have how clumsy, incoherent, irresponsible or in poor taste certain writing choices are, or we could go back to how if Adrien’s past is rewritten like that then whatever boy his 3D model represents in S6 and beyond can’t be the same character and it’s effectively an AU used as a diversion from a true end. The continuity break between Tortured Adrien and “Free” Adrien seems to me like the hell he endured was simply another doomed timeline with no viable way out (say, isn’t that how Gabriel always saw it?), and what does that say about the real families his resembles whose children and their middle school girlfriends don’t have access to reality-altering magic? There are those who call the show mean-spirited and cynical, even shockingly so (for its genre/demo) and I can see what they mean. Now if you’ll allow me a moment on the soapbox!

I enjoy stories that are affirming, invigorating, revitalizing. Ones that earnestly believe in the value of life and the power of love. Messages that fuel the engines of self-actualization:

Face the ugly truth and survive. Learn to thrive in spite of it, no matter how much time and effort it takes, because there’s love on the other side. Growth is never easy and change hurts but perseverance pays off. Not everything happens for a good reason, but joy and peace can be found beyond circumstance…

That my values and personal tastes are incompatible with the way this story is turning out? Not the kind of issue I expected to confront when I first became a fan of such a silly goofy lovey-dovey superhero cartoon show. But I’m really not a spiteful person nor one to hold grudges, so like, whatever, man…

The question remains whether it is most appropriate/impactful if Emilie’s demise is a moral consequence (negative), a logical consequence (neutral), or statistical inevitability (unlucky chance, also neutral). It could also be a noble sacrifice (positive) but that doesn’t really strike me as consistent so I won’t go into it cuz my brains already spinning too hard.

She’s a plot device dressed as a role shaped like a character so it’s not about her, and Adrien has grieved her remarkably normally— the answer to that question concerns Gabriel.

If her downfall was just then I’d have to recant and say it would affect Adrien further because on top of the base model grief, which is already complicated by the magical coma in lieu of clear-cut death, he’d have to confront and reconcile a loss of faith in not one (and a half? quarter? with Nathalie’s quasi-stepmother/heel face turn situation) parent but both. In this case Gabriel’s whole deal becomes a quest to avoid/erase culpability for every little misstep or major atrocity he or his beloved wife have ever committed (or are currently committing, or will commit, prior to the Wish) actually it kinda warps into this regardless because Gabriel goes out of his way to be evil. This colors the leaked ending super ugly because he gets everything he wants = evil wins(???)

If her death was neutral then it’s primarily about Gabriel’s inability to accept loss and adapt to fundamental changes in his vision of life and the world. This avenue rings less true the harder he leans into the cartoon supervillain role. If ML were a more delicate and mature show maybe that “understandable, though not justifiable” problematic/sympathetic balance would be viable to strike. “Just a man who loves his family” my ass, what the hell do you think the words love or family mean, lol

[maximoff-pan]

steve and reader drabble about a secret relationship mayhaps? 😫

you know I can’t resist writing for this hunk of a man ;)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warning(s): some swears, being caught red handed 🤭

quick a/n: hi lovelies! sorry for being m.i.a recently. I’ve gone back to school and it’s been too busy for me to write anything. I apologize for this being rushed/incoherent, please forgive me….

part two

Fucking girls night…

Whatever possessed you to think this was a good idea, you’re not entirely sure. Honestly, you can’t even remember who convinced you to come; they’d all been begging you for weeks to finally show up to one of these things. And now that you’re here, you’re quickly realizing why you’d been so hesitant before.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this flustered or uncomfortable in your life, and that’s definitely saying something. Really saying something…

It’s not the fact that everyone here has a significant other that bothers you. It’s the fact that everyone here has a significant other, and they think you don’t. Because as far as they’re concerned, you’re as single as single can be.

Which would be fine if it was the truth. But it’s not. And the guilt is starting to eat at you. How many more times do they have to try and set you up before you break?

Quite frankly, at this rate, it feels like you’re almost there.

“What about Peter Wilson?”

Robin recoils at Nancy’s suggestion, picking her nails in disgust. “Absolutely not.”

You remain quiet. They’re trying to find you a boyfriend, again.

“What’s so bad about him?” Max inquires.

El adds, “He’s kind of cute.”

“Sure,” Robin scoffs, “If you’re into delusional sociopaths.”

Tilting her head, brow quirked, Nancy asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Robin’s pitch drops slightly. “Let’s just say, that incident where Stacy Mathers almost drowned last summer, wasn’t so much of an accident.”

Max’s eyes widen. “You mean he tried to–” she trails, too disturbed to even finish the sentence.

Robin nods. “That one’s as sadistic as they come.”

“Okay.” Nancy agrees, moving the conversation along. “So that’s a no on Peter.”

“Ooh.” El claps, eyes locking with Max. “What about Adam?”

“Adam Richards?”

Max and El nod together.

Your head has never whipped around faster. “You can’t be serious!”

Your voice catches Robin’s attention. “First of all,” she smirks, “welcome to the conversation! And second of all, what could possibly be wrong with him?” She knows exactly what’s wrong with him, she just wants to see you squirm.

“Rob, he’s fucking sixteen.”

“And?” Max joins in.

“I’m almost twenty.” You state. That should be reason enough, but as you glance between them, they don’t look convinced. The concern on your face is evident as you say, “I am not about to be some cradle robber!”

“But he’s like,” Max pauses adding on a valley girl accent, “the hottest Junior at Hawkin’s High.”

Your face scrunches in disgust, mimicking the accent back. “Fucking, ew.”

Nancy and El giggle at the interaction.

“Okay, so you’re not into younger guys then.” Robin teases, a sparkle of mischief in her stare. “Noted.”

These girls are going to drive you into madness…

“You know what else I’m not into?” The cadence of your voice carries with a hint of amusement. “My friends desperately trying to set me up because they think I’m pathetic and lonely.”

“But you are lonely.” Is El’s retort. Three pairs of eyes widen at the remark, but not yours. El’s bluntness has never surprised you. It’s actually pretty comforting, because you know she’d never lie to you.

Nancy hisses with a whine. “El.”

You’ve been around the Wheeler’s long enough to know that Nancy was raised to be a proper young lady, one who would never dare offend anyone. That alone causes your lip to quirk in bemusement.

You chuckle, feelings quite intact. “Oh good.” Your smile is cheeky. “At least you don’t think I’m pathetic.”

“She never said she didn’t.” Max points out with a grin.

“Hilarious Maxine.” You mock a sarcastic and melodic laugh.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” El cuts in before Max can say anything else. “I just think you need a boyfriend.”

You have half a mind to say ‘I’ve already got one,’ but you bite your tongue.

Just like you have for the last six months.

That’s half a year of trying so hard to keep your relationship status on the down low. Because things with Steve are new, and after many years of denying any feelings towards each other, you finally decided to go for it. But, on the off chance you both found that you were better off as friends, you came to the mutual decision that waiting to tell the kids (and everyone else) was the best idea. As much as you think they’d be happy to see you two together (and boy have they pushed for it), it’s not something you’d want to get their hopes up for.

You’re serious about Steve, more serious than you’ve ever been about anyone before. As much confidence as you hold in your love for him, you know he’s serious about you too. And maybe now that you’re certain (at least on your end) that you’re both sure, you can start to tell everyone about your relationship. For tonight though, you’re going to have to continue playing the role of the lonely single.

How tragic…your mind wanders.

“Oh my god!” Nancy’s interjection catches you off guard. She’s masking her smirk well, but you can still see it. “How could I not have thought of this?”

Her surprise feels more like it’s been planned, like she’s been thinking of a way to bring whatever she’s been thinking about into the conversation without rousing too much suspicion.

“Thought of what?” Robin asks, feeding into it.

Your eyes narrow.

Nancy leans over to whisper something into her ear. The chain continues with Robin leaning in to tell Max, and Max whispering it to El, leaving you thoroughly left out.

What is she planning?

“Uh, a little inclusion might be nice.” You tutt.

Four pairs of eyes bore into you, excited smiles resting on each of their faces.

Here it comes, you think.

“All this talk of boys…” Nancy starts. “What about Steve?” She asks.

And there it is. “Guys.” You groan. “Not this again.”

“C’mon (Y/n), please?” Max’s whine is on the verge of a full on beg. “I know you’ve thought about it. We all see the way you look at each other.”

“Like I do.” El’s matter-of-factness is not so comforting in this moment. “With Mike. And Max, with Lucas.”

“Oh!” Max exclaims. “Remember when Nancy and Jonathan first got together? They were really good friends, like you and Steve.”

You take a quick glance over to Nancy who’s now gone quiet, a pink blush covering the softness of her cheeks.

“Guys. Steve and I are just that,” you eye each of them with a deep intensity, “friends.”

Nancy remembers saying the exact same thing to Murray Bauman after he’d accused her and Jonathan of suppressing their feelings.

She hadn’t quite known then how strong she felt about him, as she does now. But as she glances in your direction, she reads an expression on your face that she wasn’t expecting: guilt.

You don’t exactly look like someone who’s freaking themselves out over their newly discovered — and to everyone else, totally obvious — feelings for their best friend like she had. Instead, you look like you’ve accepted them, and more so, if Nancy is as good at reading you as she thinks she is, you look like you’re hiding something.

“You’d be perfect together.” Is one of Max’s last attempts of the night at convincing you. She only wants to see you happy. Maybe if she just pushed a little more.

Your heart wrenches at her words.

You hate lying to them, you really do. You’re almost not sure why you’re doing it anymore, but you can’t seem to stop yourself.

God, you wish a black hole would suck you into the abyss. “Max, you know that’s not how it works. You can’t decide you’re going to be with someone just because you want to be. There’s a whole other person to consider.”

“Semantics.” She puffs a breath of air, waving you off. “And not if that other person is already head over heels in love with you.”

“Max.” You warn with the tilt of your head and an extremely deep breath.

Robin jumps in, lips pulled into a cheeky grin. “I’m not hearing a no.”

If that’s what it’ll take, you think, “Then no.” You finally say.

Robin catches your gaze, her eyes softening. All hints of teasing seem to be gone. There’s no way this can mean anything good.

“I know I don’t do this often,” she starts, “but I’m going to say something in all seriousness here.”

“Please don’t.”

Robin’s unimpressed stare tells you that she’s not only going to ignore your request, but she also really means what she’s about to say. Her voice is steady and calm as she speaks, “Steve likes you.” She says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you suppose it is. At least now.

“He’s told me. I mean, he really, really likes you… like marry you this instant, thinks about having six kids with you, likes you…” She drags the words slowly trying to emphasize her point.

You know this. But you have to play that you don’t. “Jeez, I don’t know about the six kids and the marriage part, I think you might be getting way ahead of yourself there Rob,” your voice drifts slightly. “But I’d hope that at the very least Steve likes me. It’s not like he’s one of my best friends or anything.”

Max lets out a low groan. Robin has basically confirmed that Steve (despite everyone else already knowing this) is in love with you, and you’re still refusing to acknowledge it.

It’s beyond frustrating. “You’re so hopeless.” She says.

“Am I?” You jest. As guilty as you feel, this is sort of fun for you.

“Terribly.” Is her reply.

You grin, happy to change the subject. “Can’t make things easy for you now can I?”

“We’d never expect you to.” Stormy blue orbs catch yours, a flicker of recognition flashing back to you.

There's a hint in Nancy’s voice and demeanour that tells you she knows more than she’s letting on. The look she gives you says it all: your secret’s safe with me.

You shouldn’t be surprised that she picked up on it. She’s probably known for months. Because not only does she know you and Steve better than almost anyone else, she knows exactly what Steve looks like when he’s in love.

With a soft smile falling onto your lips, you breathe a sigh of relief in the moment of brief silence that rests between you. Someone knows, and they approve. Your eyes glimmer gratefully. Thank you. Your signal is nonverbal, but she understands nonetheless.

You’re welcome.

• ж • ж • ж •

Steve wonders how you’re doing right about now. Because at the moment, he wants nothing more than to be with you, hanging out and not having to worry about keeping this a secret.

For the past hour, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike have been driving him up a wall. Susie this. El that. Max, blah blah blah.

Mike had started it all with a quick, ‘Hey Steve, why don’t you have a girlfriend?’

Then Lucas had joined in. ‘Yeah, what happened to you man? I thought you were supposed to be some kind of God or something?’

“He used to be.” Dustin had assured them. “Still is. The God’s somewhere in there.” Dustin poked at Steve’s chest. He’d seen Steve in action before, he knows the charm is real.

The pale raven haired teen beside Dustin then snorted. “Bagging my sister doesn’t count.”

Steve almost punted Mike over that one. Smug little bastard…

And that’s not even the worst of it. Steve can take the constant teasing of his romantic failures; he’s been doing that for years now, taking blow after blow to his ego. It’s Eddie’s creepy staring that’s sending him over the fucking edge. Every time he looks over, there’s Eddie, already looking at him.

Steve shudders at the thought. He can feel Munson’s pair of deep brown eyes burning holes through his back, the hairs on his neck raised in discomfort. It’s like with every breath Steve takes, Eddie is analyzing it. He’s this close to smacking Eddie upside the head and telling him to cut this shit out.

It’s only when they get a moment alone does he discover the reason for the Hellfire club leader’s strange behaviour. They stand awkwardly in Mrs. Henderson’s kitchen, fumbling for snacks for the boys when Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“So,” his smirk is apparent. Steve didn’t know someone could smile that wide. “I was thinking.”

“Ah.” Steve hums trying to settle the nervous pit in his stomach. “Is that what that was?”

Eddie chuckles. “You know what Steve-O? Just for the ‘tude, maybe I shouldn’t tell you what I was thinking…” he trails.

That’s a challenge if he’s ever heard one, and he’s not about to bite. Eddie is anything but patient.

“Fine by me.” Steve claps a hand on Eddie’s shoulder as he passes him to grab a bowl from one of Dustin’s cupboards.

Eddie’s brow raises in surprise at his response, running a hand through his curly mop of hair.“Woah, c’mon.” He moves swiftly following him. “I was only kidding! Of course I’m going to tell you.”

Steve grabs the bag of popcorn from the cupboard, and pops it into the microwave. “Alright.”

“Okay.”

A couple of moments pass before:

“So?...” Steve’s fingers drum across the countertop in anxiety.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Oh right.” He says, watching the time tick down on the clock. “It’s more of a question really.”

Steve moves to grab the bag out of the microwave as the timer beeps. “Shoot.” He replies, gently dumping the popcorn into the big plastic bowl. He’s kind of proud of himself for keeping this calm when he feels so on edge.

“Stop me if I cross the line or anything,” That’s never a good start to a sentence…

Eddie’s voice lowers in volume, but his tone grows in confidence. There’s something else to it, amusement…satisfaction maybe, Steve can’t quite place it. But he doesn’t like it.

Amber eyes meet a honey brown. Steve’s not sure how many seconds pass before he hears Eddie say:

“How long have you and (Y/n) been fucking?”

Well, fuck.

[phantasmiafxndom]

Hello! I absolutely love your Obey Me Pet AU and the ones on Ao3 kept me up all the night aaahh ❤️ I’d like to request for OM Pet AU. With the boys getting extremely sick to a point of being bedridden and their owner!reader is taking care of them and crying because of how worried they are for their pet. They get better eventually bc my heart– I hope this is alright! Please let me know if I misunderstood a rule. I just really, really enjoy this AU and it’s so unique so I’m happy I found your blog. I hope you have a nice day/evening! ❤️

Lucifer

As you'd expect, Lucifer is much too proud to admit when he needs help. Because of that, he winds up much sicker than he would have otherwise... and still trying to deny it. When he's finally bedridden, he's visibly humiliated by the whole mess, yet still in no shape to do anything about it. Watching you cry over him is something of a breaking point, though, and he becomes a much more compliant patient once he knows how worried you are.

Mammon

Sickness makes him needy, so Mammon is the whiniest, most demanding mess you can imagine. Even when he's so ill he can barely keep his eyes open, he can't stand having you out of his sight. He's always reaching for your hand to cling to and whimpering when you leave the room, too exhausted and out of it to care about his pride as the "great Mammon" anymore. All he can think about is having his precious owner there with him.

Leviathan

Since he doesn't want to be a nuisance to you, he hides his sickness for far longer than he should— and winds up feeling all the more guilty when you're by his bedside in tears. Leviathan is also whiny when he's sick, but more in the sense that he keeps trying to push you away out of fear that he's being a problem by needing too much. And yet, he still looks like he's going to cry with happiness every time you do something to care for him.

Satan

While he'll spend a while insisting that he'll be just fine on his own, Satan eventually winds up bedridden and not happy about it. He's too dizzy and nauseous to even read, and being stuck relying on your care only makes the situation more uncomfortable for him. However, he gets oddly vulnerable when he's truly out of it, and at that point, you end up with the prickly demon incoherent enough to nuzzle your hands and whine whenever you leave his side.

Asmodeus

He's terrified of looking unsightly in front of you, so being sick is an absolute nightmare. Expect lots of crying and attempts to hide from you, followed by Asmodeus finally having no choice but to let himself be coddled when he ends up unable to even sit up on his own. At the same time that he adores the attention, he feels disgusting and bothersome... however, in a way, that only makes it all the more impactful that you're caring for him so thoroughly.

Beelzebub

When his appetite disappears, Beelzebub knows something is wrong. The next day, he can barely move. And while he feels incredibly guilty about troubling you (and even worse when he sees you cry), he's also beyond grateful that you're taking the time to care for him at all. He tries to be as easy of a patient as possible, all the while assuring you that he's feeling better thanks to your help. It's no good for you to worry about him, after all.

Belphegor

Once he's sick, Belphegor isn't leaving his bed. At first, he's grouchy and quite the difficult patient, but as he starts to feel worse and worse, he loses the fight to keep his dignity. When he's truly out of it, in whatever brief waking moments he gets, all he'll do is cling to you. Everything hurts and he feels awful, and you're the only thing making any of it better. Of course, he'll deny the clingy behavior completely once he's back to awareness.

[autisticlancemcclain]

“…but, yeah, Keith. You very nearly came close to almost kinda beating me in a race! You’re a pretty good swimmer. I’m surprised you weren’t on the swim team.”

Keith looks at him strangely. “Lance, dude, the swim team at the fucken’ Garrison in Arizona? Sports mixed with military mixed with the South? On top of everyone being half-naked and embarrassed about it? Um, no. That’s a lot of homophobia and concentrated toxic masculinity in one spot. I would get hatecrimed immediately.” Keith tilts his head, squinting at Lance. “Weren’t you out at the Garrison, too? How did you not get hatecrimed?”

Hunk barks a loud and sudden laugh, and Lance grins. The rest of the team looks on with interest.

“Because Lance roasted them within an inch of their lives,” Hunk says, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Holy shit, I wish I’d been there.”

Pidge raises an eyebrow. “You roasted a group of teen boys so hard they gave up on being homophobic? That sounds unlikely.”

Lance rubs his hands together, smirking. “Okay, listen up, everyone. I present to you the time I was the baddest bitch I’ve ever been.”

—

As excited as Lance had been to try out and make the swim team, the only emotion he was really feeling on that first morning practice was trepidation. (Which, for the record, is an annoying-ass thing to feel at four-thirty in the fucking morning. Why did he choose swimming, again? Why couldn’t he have chosen, like, the chess club, or something? Ugh. Past Lance could meet him in the fucking ring.)

His anxiety was not helped by the fact that he was the first and currently the only person in the changeroom. He scrolled through his e-mail, double-checking the message from the coach to see if he was here at the right time.

Yep. Practice starts at four forty-five. He’s getting ready at a reasonable time, which means the rest of the team should be here, which means their continued absence is freaking him out.

He starts to get ready regardless. He supposes the rest of the team’s presence doesn’t really matter, so long as he’s on time. He bends over to untie his shoes, rolling his eyes at his own oversight. Why the fuck did he wear his Chucks to swimming practice? He could be practical instead of gay, maybe for once in his life, but noooo. Heaven forbid he look like a straight person. Just as he’s pulling off his shoe, he hears a crowd of voices, laughing and teasing.

Aw, shit. They all know each other.

Lance forces himself to continue getting ready, not to look up. Look confident and unbothered and they’ll leave you alone. Probably.

All conversations cease as the rest of the swim team enters the changeroom and sees Lance. He can feel several sets of eyes staring at him, and he just barely holds himself back from squirming.

It’s fine, it’s fine, they just don’t want to tak around you, just get your stupid Speedo on and they’ll ignore you —

“Hey, it’s Lance, right?”

Shit.

Lance deliberately finishes pulling on his swimsuit before looking up. Not only does he need to seem bored and uninterested, but he is not talking to strangers with his dick out. Not happening.

“Yeah, I’m Lance.”

He intentionally does not ask for the guy’s name. He’s not 100% on the rules among Straight American Sports Dudes™, but he’s pretty sure acting excited and overeager is a great way to get pummelled. That’s what the movies say, anyway.

“I’m James.” James gestures to the guys gathered around him, about ten guys in total, who are all staring at him seemingly unblinkingly. Jesus. Is he about to get hazed or something?

“We just wanted to let you know that we know you’re, like, into dudes or whatever —”

Lance slowly reaches behind him, clutching his phone behind his back. His no-looking texting isn’t all that great, but if these guys are about to jump him, he can probably shoot off a message to Hunk that’s incoherent enough to worry him so he can come and possibly keep Lance from getting ‘prank’ drowned in the pool.

“— and we’re cool with it,” James continues. Lance almost sighs in relief, remembering at the last minute he doesn’t want to show any weakness in front of these people. “So long as you don’t stare at us while we’re changing, or we’ll have to beat you up, ha.”

There are several scattered laughs and jeers, the rest of the team clearly agreeing with James. Lance relaxes.

Oh, they want to play this game? Lance knows how to play this game. Lance is gonna fuckin’ smoke them at this game. He’s great at this game.

He flashes a sunny smile at them, making his voice as sweet as possible, as he continues pulling on his gear. “Oh, no problem,” he assures. “I won’t be looking at you guys. I mean,” he looks them all up and down, intentionally slowly, scoffing a little. “Come on. I don’t just look at any random guy. I only look at guys who are, like, at least a four. None of you need to worry. No one’s looking at you guys, ha.”

He barely holds back a smirk at the stunned silence, pulling his shirt over his chest.

“I have a girlfriend,” one guy protests. He’s taller than the others, standing right next to James.

Oooh, someone’s ego was just hit.

“We all do,” someone else confirms.

“And I admire their hustle!” Lance exclaims, doing his best to look reassuring. He is going to grind these shitheads down to nothing. “It’s definitely nice to know that you always look better in photographs. But personally, I’d only date an ugly guy if he was worth at least fifteen million dollars. I would never date someone as unfortunate-looking and broke as you guys, I don’t want to sink that low. You get it, I’m sure.”

He pulls on his swim cap and goggles, checking his watch. Four forty-two, perfect.

“Anyways, practice is about to start, so I’m gonna bounce,” he says, memorizing the identical looks of despair on each one of their faces. He wiggles his fingers over his shoulder, smirking at them. “See ya in there!”

[guccigarantine]

Michael Woe.Begone is the most character of all time and I refuse to shut up about him so please enjoy 4 minutes of everyone’s favorite time traveling cowboy 

Transcript: 

Mike: Anne found some settings that suggested that “excess travelers” as we had been calling them could be “consolidated”. I was skeptical. I couldn’t imagine a scientific mechanism through which that was possible. Once it happened you defacto had two different people with two different minds. I knew first hand how different, how disagreeable and incoherent those minds could be. One of mine was a fucking cowboy.

[Honk from episode 73 begins playing] 

“Hey Mikey, nice to meet you. Name’s Michael, around here they call Mikael.”

“Well, Mikey boy good news is big dog Mike Walters here to bail you out.”

“I’m too damn old for people to call me Mikey. I’m leaning into this whole grizzled old man thing.”

“Well, I don’t wanna get blood on my clothes and, uh you’re the worst dressed here so I think it should be you.”

“Enunciate my boot up your ass how’s that for grizzled old man talk?”

“’Cuz I’m smooth as butter partner.”

“You see her face when I tipped my hat? She got a kick out of it.”

“Damn straight partner.”

“I’ll have you know I’m the fastest gunslinger in this whole car.”

“I understand Cthulhu he’s literally just a guy chilling.”

“I’m just a cowboy with a heart of gold.”

“Surprise buckaroo it was me all along.”

“Gimme my hat back you ungrateful, green horned, son of a—“ [STATIC]

“Ornery is what he is. Ornery, what a word. Ornery. Ornery.”

“We kill people all the time and normally it’s just ‘cause someone told us to and we don’t even get to eat those people.”

“It’s a dummy LinkedIn page. Did you think I had a real LinkedIn page? What would I put on it?”

“Those were tactical cheese burgers.”

“Yep, he’s touching my bumper!”

“Hey! Wake up fuckass!” [SMACK] 

“I’m a goddamn cowboy.”

“Get your finest hostage taking attire on pilgrim.”

“It’ll be fine… or we’ll die. I think it’s about fifty fifty.”

“Eyes on the prize Mikey-bear. 

“The end with the hole in it is the one you point at the other guy.”

“You know you’re a lot easier to stuff into a car dead.”

“Mike, I know you’re a scared little puppy-dog in an unforgiving world but just take his phone, okay? I need you to do this for me it’s not weird until you make it weird.”

“Ahoy matey. If it isn’t the scurvy cur, Mike Walters.” 

“We are in the Gulf of Alaska. You’ll never guess what ocean that’s in.”

“It’s high noon, pilgrim.”

“Get in dipshit, we’re going for a ride!”

“And if I’m not back by then you can assume that I got enticed by a merman.”

“Look all the way out there and then out there too— every direction. See all the favor you did us.”

“Hang onto your hat partner!”

“I should join the rodeo.” 

“Shame I don’t got my hat. Hope he can still tell that I’m a cowboy.”

“Did I leave the oven on? Whatever.”

“Darn tootin.”

“Bruno! [Snaps] Сидеть! Хорош! Хорош, Bruno!”

“Turns out waking up to your upper half being separated from your lower half by some drywall ain’t pleasant.”

“Darn tootin.”

“I’d take you lot yelling over Mike’s baby voice he keeps doing for the dog.”

“Howdy, Mikey.”

“Hey, you little snitch.”

“Quit yelling over each other, you’re scaring Bruno. Sorry Bruno. Сидеть.”

“Shuffle the deck better next time dipshit.”

“Mike, I swear if you don’t throw that ball for him you and Bruno are going missing too.”

“Yes, sir Mr. Walters! I’ll be a good boy.”

“I bought him a whole chicken just for him.”

“Anyway, I love that movie, Grizzly Adams. It’s really gay.”

“Must of got you two mixed up then huh? Guess I’m lyin’ then.”

“I would be rubbin’ it in.”

“Shit! Shit! What time is it?”

“Was they close? Apologies Charlie, he don’t know everything I do.”

“I fucked up!”

“We killed him,” Michael said. “Mikey, we’re trying to recruit her we can’t pussyfoot around.”

“10-4 good buddy.”

“The Cowboy Iteration, if you will.”

“Get it together quick Mike I done fucked up.”

“Be seein’ y’all,” Michael tipped his hat. 

[Music fades out]

Michael: Do you think that he thought that was my actual voice?”

Mike: Maybe not at the very end, but for almost the whole time, yeah I think he did! 

[sapnotfoundbutwastaken]

hey!! im new to tumblr but i love your writing and i was wondering if you could do a request for me? basically the reader is assigned to share a dorm with someone in your university, but it so happens that your dorm mate is dream, but you both hate eachother. you can try working out how they start to get a long. it could be something like angry sex or some shit but idk, feel free to play around with it!!!

brat • dream smut

a/n : welcome to tumblr, anon !! so glad you like my writing, here you go :)

POV: first person

gn!reader

pronouns: they / them

gn!physiology

warnings: smut/nsfw, enemies to lovers, “sir”, degradation, very very VERY dom/sub, bottom!reader

University. It was most definitely a mixed bag; you shove your hand into it and have no clue what you’re gonna grab out of it. Was I gonna be sitting out on the grass with my new lifelong best friends, or was I gonna end up in miserable and making half-joking comments about how much I hate my life? I guess the answer ended up being neither, but something much more complicated.

I walked into my dorm room for the first time. It was pretty bare, both of the beds completely stripped of sheets, pillows, and blankets. I walked in, taking in the new environment that I was gonna be surrounded by for the next few months until my first break. ‘This looks... depressing,’ I thought, putting down my backpack as well as the suitcases full of all of my things. I began to unpack.

I heard a person come open the door to the room. “Hey, I’m Clay... I think you’re my roommate. You can call me Dream.” I spun around, looking at him. I simply nodded, not knowing what exactly to say.

“Uh, yeah, I’m [y/n].” I turned back to my clothes, letting the silence that was once there envelope the room once again. He tended to his side of the room as I tended to mine.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh god, he’s one of those people.’

“Uh, I mean I just don’t really know you yet.” I pulled my sheets out of one of the suitcases, unfolding them.

“That’s dumb, how are you gonna get to know me if you’re all quiet?” I ignored his question. I know that simply letting him talk will give me all of the information I need to know about him. “See, you don’t even know what to say, I’m right.” ‘Cocky much?’

“I don’t need to talk to you to know you.” I could almost feel his glare into the back of my head.

He scoffed, “No, you don’t need to talk to me to make assumptions. Tell me one thing you know about me.”

I turned around and looked at him. “First, people only show their good side, so I like to make my own observations of their behavior. For example, you’re cocky as fuck.”

He rolled his eyes, turning back to his bed to unpack his things. “Okay, then here’s my ‘observation’, you’re a bitch.”

“Okay, and you’re an asshole.” I retorted, childishly, before putting in my headphones and deciding to ignore him as much as possible. ‘Out of every fucking person I could be paired with... why him?’

-

I walked from the bus stop up the stairs of the dorm building and to my shared room with... him. Dream, as he told me to call him. As much as I hated his attitude and almost everything about his annoying personality, I had to admit that after a month I was coming around in a way. Maybe I didn’t find him completely unbearable, but I definitely still didn’t like him.

I entered the space and set my bag next to my desk. Dream was laying on his bed, looking at his phone. “Hey, I’m having like 3 friends over here tonight, so could you find a place to stay?” I looked at him, my expression dripping with ‘say deadass’.

“Uh, no? You can’t tell me things like this last minute, dude. This is my place, too,” I stated, letting the truth onto him. His attention darted from his phone to me.

“I can’t just cancel!” He exclaimed in defense.

“Yes you can, and you will! Reschedule it for another time.” He was silent, staring at me.

“Fine,” He mumbled after a moment of quiet. I turned to my desk, taking out my homework for the day and setting it down. I walked into our shared bathroom with some comfortable clothes and turned on the shower. Stripping off my clothing, I stepped in as soon as it was hot enough. I sighed in content, the steaming water caressing my body and relaxing my muscles. 

After a bit of washing myself and relaxing, I turned off the water and stepped out onto the tile. As I changed into my clothes, I could hear Dream talking through the door, “They’re fucking annoying, man, but they’re hot so whatever, I guess.” My eyes widened as he spoke. ‘...me?’

I can’t say that I never found him hot. He’s tall, broad shoulders, pretty green eyes... who wouldn’t be attracted to him? He’s hot, but he’s a dumbass, and I think that’s the only thing that was stopping me from pursuing him.

I walked out after I finished drying my hair, bringing the blonde boy’s attention to me. “I gotta go, talk to you later,” He rushed out, hanging up in a hurry. I quirked a brow at him in confusion.

“What was that about?” I asked, taking a seat at my desk.

“Had to cancel. Nothin’ else.” I chuckled at his attempt to not share much.

“So who’s this hot but annoying person you were talking about?” I questioned, my eyes changing course to look at his face.

His cheeks flared up, his freckled skin turning pink. “Don’t listen in on my phone conversations, bitch,” He said harshly.

I stood up. “Excuse me? Listen, I already told you to stop talking to me like that-”

“You’re so hot when you look like that,” He interrupted me. Now it was my turn to start blushing.

“L-Like what?” I asked, half mumbling.

“When you get all worked up. That’s why I like bothering you so much.” I was stuck in my spot, unsure of what to say to that. The thought of Dream finding me hot was so insanely flustering for whatever reason, and it never occurred to me until that moment. 

He got up, walking over to me. I looked up and into his eyes. “Sometimes, when you make me really mad, I think about slamming you into your mattress,” He said, quietly, making the rasp in his voice stick out. “And just taming you... because you’re just such a brat, sometimes.” My breath got caught in my throat, I felt like I couldn’t even speak. “Sometimes a brat needs to be put in their place, don’t you think?” I nodded. “Use your words.”

“I, uh- yes, sir,” I stuttered out. A smirk pulled at his lips, and his hand made it’s way up to my cheek, cupping my face. He slowly pushed his thumb between my lips, causing me to start sucking it. He pulled it out, my mouth releasing it with a quiet ‘pop’.

“Get on your knees, angel.” I obeyed immediately and got down on my knees. “You wanna undo my belt?”

I nodded, eagerly. “Yes, please?” He nodded, humming an ‘mhm’. I bit my lip as I undid his belt before unbuttoning his jeans. I glanced up at his face before unzipping them as well and pulling them down. I could see the outline of his hard-on through his boxers. I slowly and softly palmed him over the thin material, eliciting a low, quiet moan.

“Take them off, sweetheart.” I nodded and pulled down his underwear, his cock springing up due to the sudden freedom. I licked the palm of my hand before wrapping it around his shaft and slowly moving it up and down. I looked up at his face, seeing his lip between his teeth as I touched him.

“Can I use my mouth, sir?” I asked him, even though I already know the likely answer.

He nodded, “Mhm, use your mouth.” I softly licked the tip of his member before wrapping my lips around it, sucking lightly. I started bobbing my head, taking more of him in my mouth every time I went back down. “Do you think you can deep-throat me, angel?”

I nodded. “C-Can I do that, sir?” He nodded, his hand making it’s way into my hair. I slowly started to take more of him in my mouth, eventually getting to the point of him hitting the back of my throat. I choked a little but pushed through it. I continued to take as much as I could down my throat, Dream softly fucking my face.

“Just like that, baby,” He groaned as I continued to bob my head. He pulled a bit on my hair, sending heat down between my legs. He pulled my head off of his dick by my hair, a string of spit bridging the gap. “Get on the bed, safe word is puppy.” I nodded and jumped up off of the floor and onto my bed.

He yanked my sweatpants down, pulling down my underwear with it. I pulled my shirt over my head and he did the same to himself. “You want my cock, baby? Look at how turned on you are.”

I let out a soft moan as he rubbed me right where I needed it. “I want it so bad, sir, please..” I begged. He bit his lip before pulling a bottle of lube out of his dresser.

“Get on your stomach, I’m gonna fuck your pretty little hole from behind.” Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I followed his directions. I could hear the slippery liquid being drizzled and spread all over his cock, it only made me want him more.

He slowly pushed into me, making a moan uncontrollably escape my lips. “Fuck...” I whispered.

“Yeah, you like feeling all full, don’t you? Such a fuckin’ whore for me,” He teased slowly moving with my permission. He gradually sped up, the two of us letting out moan after moan, the sound of our skin colliding being the only other sound filling the room. “You’re such a goddamn brat,”

“I... I know, sir... please- please don’t stop!” His hand made it’s way into the roots of my hair, pulling it, making it hurt so perfectly.

“Yeah? Don’t stop?” He asked, breathlessly as he started going faster. “I’m not gonna stop, angel.” I bit my lip, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as he pounded into me.

I touched myself as he fucked me, making everything feel double as good. “S...s-sir, I-I’m gonna... D-Dream, please!” I let out incoherent sentences.

“Aw, look, you can barely talk. Come on, sweetheart, cum for me like a good little slut.” The knot in my stomach fell apart as he spoke, a loud moan leaving my body once again. He let me ride out my high before pulling out and stroking himself and releasing all over my back. I bit my lip as I felt the warm liquid hit my skin.

He laid down beside me. “What do we say?” He asked, teasingly.

I giggled. “Thank you, sir.”

[sweetchup]

Bi•valve

Noun

an aquatic mollusk that has a compressed body enclosed within a hinged shell, such as oysters, clams, mussels, and scallops.

AKA

The Most Common Seashell in the Ocean

————————

Vol. 1: Just Keep Swimming // Ch. 2

Type: Poseidon x reader

Word Count: 4,000+

Masterlist

————————

Sounds of horns and shouting filled the air outside as you stood on the packed bus. Cramped in from every side, it was hard for you to tell where you were going. Not as if you were paying much attention anyways.

“Okay, you left fish and pasta in the fridge… he could use the tv or read a book for entertainment while you are gone…what about…” You ramble incoherently to yourself.

Even though the storm hit Athens hard yesterday, your studio art professor was still having classes today. Forcing you to leave Triton alone at home. You shouldn’t be nervous. There was no reason to. After all, Triton is a god, he was hundreds of years old.

But…, he was still a child. No matter how old or what type of being he is. He could still possibly injure himself or get into trouble. And that single fact alone made you feel sick to your stomach.

“Is this how parents feel leaving their child alone for the first time…?” You groan to yourself, leaning your head forward so it hits the window in front of you.

“Now Approaching *Athens International School of Art*. I repeat, Now—“ The robotic voice announces over the intercom. At the familiar name of your college, you squeeze your way through the other patrons on the bus to make your way to the doors.

Sweet, sweet air, you think to yourself as soon as you exit the bus. It was starting to get way too cramped in there. So much so, you wondered if it was a safety hazard. Though it wasn’t as if you were one to talk, you left a little boy alone—

“Argh!” You scream out, slapping the cheeks of your face. You needed to stop thinking of Triton. He was going to be completely fine. But, what if…

“I’m getting too attached already…” You groan to yourself. It had only been a day. One singular Day. But you were already smitten by the blonde haired child. “It doesn’t help that he's absolutely adorable as well…”

“Who’s adorable?” A voice calls out from behind you, making you jump in surprise. Whipping around, you let out a sigh once you identify who it was.

“Bryce… how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that…”

Bryce Kroger. He was studying abroad at Athens International School of Art for a year just like you except he was instead an architecture major. You met him by coincidence while taking art history so you didn’t know much about the guy, the only thing being the few stories he told you about his home country of Australia.

“Oi! It’s not my fault you're so skittish!” Bryce banters back with a huff.

“Whatever…”

“Eh? Wait, where you heading?” Bryce questions as he watches you walk away, “I thought you had Studio Art on Fridays?”

“I do. I’m heading to the library first though.” You yell back to the tall male who stayed put where he was standing. Not even bothering to follow you.

“You need to stop studying so much!”

“Shut up!”

“IT’S THE TRUTH!”

“SHUT UP!” You scream back with one final huff before storming off. So what if you studied so much. You just wanted to get good grades in the classes that counted. It’s how you got here in the first place. By working your ass off.

Unconsciously, you feel your hand twitch as you open the library door. So what if you spent hours studying. So what if you didn’t go out with friends that often. So what if you didn’t have a social life. So what—

You feel yourself pause, your expression turning sour. Lonely. That’s what you were. You were lonely. A miserable lonely girl.

“Miss!”

Startled out of your thoughts by the sudden call, you realize you were no longer standing at the front door but instead standing in front of one of the librarians. You must have unconsciously walked up to the front desk while you were lost in thought.

“A-Ah. Sorry, I was just looking for books on Leonar—“

You feel your voice trail off at the end as a book on the counter catches your eye. It wasn’t the gold detailing nor the leather texture. No. It was the simple words of “Greek Mythology: Tales of Zeus” printed neatly on the front.

“…Actually, Do you perhaps have any books about Poseidon?”

You just found something better to do with your time.

—.—.—.—.—

“Damn… this is extremely confusing…” You mumble to yourself as you glare at the pages of notes in front of you. Each book seemed to be a little bit different from the last. “Perhaps I should recap…”

Okay, so what makes sense to you is that Poseidon is the second eldest of three brothers and is the ruler of the seas. The things that don’t make sense are… practically everything else…

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or scream out of frustration right now.

According to the books, Poseidon has had many consorts over the years. One of them being Triton’s mother, Amphitrite…

“My mother… can be quite mean to other women. Even to some of the female servants around the palace. She believes that they are trying to seduce my father…”

…but that doesn’t match up with what Triton mentioned last night. According to him, it sounds like Amphitrite scared away any women that would even come near Poseidon. This also leads to another flaw in the mythology books. You doubted that Poseidon would be able to have an affair with any other women with Amphitrite antics, nevertheless have 10 other children with them.

“Triton also never mentioned having any other siblings…”

Letting out a groan, which you seemed to be doing a lot today, you banged your head against the table. It seems like these mythology books weren’t going to be of any help after all. Though…. you couldn’t help but wonder why the books were so off in the first place.

Lifting yourself back up from the table, you glare down at one of the book covers. It was blue, almost silvery in a way, with a giant black silhouette of Poseidon right smack dab in the middle. Or, at least, what Poseidon might look like…

“Well, my father is extremely strong and handsome. All the sea nymphs stare at him with big heart eyes half the time. Oh! B-but, father doesn’t pay any attention to them. Father is not a cheater like uncle Zeus…”

“…Is Father…? Oh. He’s alright… He’s nowhere as bad as my mother. He’s never hit me or anything. He’s just… cold. Extremely cold. He really just ignores me half the time…”

“…I do love my father…I just wished he would at least spare me a glance…you know?…Acknowledge his own son…”

“God damn jerk!” You hiss out in anger as you push the book aside. Your blood practically boiling at even the slightest thought of Triton’s father, Poseidon. He doesn’t deserve to have such a good and nice son like Triton.

However, as much as you want to curse out Poseidon more, you realized class would be starting soon and you really had to get a move on.

“Shit. I can’t afford to be late again.”

—.—.—

“Ugh. Why did the professor have to assign me this type of painter…?!” You whined to Yuri. Class had already ended by then with the professor long gone. The only people left were students that were conversing with others or trying to get a head start on their paintings.

“Well, it didn’t help that you barged into class late for the second time this week, (y/n).” Yuri explained with a sigh as she continued to set up her palette, not even sparing you a glance.

Yuri Saito, Or rather Saito Yuri, was an abroad student from Japan. She was the closest person you knew at the college as you both were similar in many ways. Especially since you were both homebodies.

“I get that but at least I showed up in the fir—“

“(Y/n)!” A voice shouts out interrupting your talk with Yuri. You turn around to see Bella Woods, a student apart of your major, approaching you. “(Y/n). You were part of your student council back in high school right?”

“Uh, Yeah. Why?” You answered hesitantly. You weren’t sure why, perhaps instincts, but you were already having a bad feeling about this situation.

“Well I need your help on something…” Bella explains, her voice trailing off at the end as she grabs something from her bag. It’s a piece of paper, a flier to be exact.

“A…A Cultural Festival?”

Bella nods her head at your words, “Yeah. The college wanted to put something on for the public to show what our art school is all about and Mrs. Yamamoto suggested this. A-Apparently, it’s something schools and colleges do back in Japan.”

“B-But how can I help? Wouldn’t it make sense for someone like Yuri to do this? Since she’s from Japan and all.”

It was the truth. You didn’t know a single thing about japanese culture festivals.

“Hey don’t drag me into this, I’m busy.” Yuri counterbacks with a glare before returning back to her painting.

“Well… you see… The school wanted to change Mrs. Yamamoto’s idea a bit since they really didn’t know anything about Japanese Cultural festivals either. So it’s like a Cultural festival, kind of not.” Bella rambled. You could tell all this information was scrambling her brain as well. “Basically, it’s like a Greek version of a Cultural festival where each major picks a Greek god and plans an event or booth around it.”

“…Okay… So it’s just like a school festival in a way?” You questioned cautiously. This was a lot for you to take in at once.

“Yes. Precisely. We are just taking inspiration from Cultural festivals.”

“Okay. Okay…” You answer as you rub the back of your neck, “I still don’t understand why you need me though?”

“Well, I kind of… kind of saw you reading the mythology books in the library today and we need more people on the planning committee…” Oh, god. It seems like everything is coming back to bite you in the ass, “…Just. Please (y/n), We need your help!”

You let out a small sigh as you watch Bella give you a pleading look, “Fine…”

“Yay—!“

“But…“ You start cutting off Bella’s cheers, “But I’m taking care of something really important right now at home so I can’t always make meetings and things like that. I can help with planning but that’s it. Okay?”

That was correct. As much as you wanted to help Bella and your department out with this festival, Triton was your top priority right now. His care and needs were above all else right now, even your own. So if this would get in the way of that then you would drop this project instantly. Instantly.

“Of course! Oh, thank you (y/n)!” Bella cheers, her body visibly relaxing now that a stress has been taken off your shoulder, “Well, I’m not sure if you're busy right now but… the committee is currently planning two classrooms down… so if you could…”

“I’ll go…” You sighed out. Damn, what’s with you lately. Less than two days ago, people hardly approached you. Now you are as busy as a bee. A person magnetic… Well, more like god magnetic as wel—

Wait, a minute. You feel yourself tense up as a thought flies into your brain. If Gods could travel and spend time on earth, could they live here as well? Just like how Triton wants to?

Shit. What if some that live here are able to identify Triton? You could be in big troub—

“(Y/n)? Are you coming?” Bella calls, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Y-yes.”

It seemed you would have to worry about that later. Not that it mattered right now, you could always just ask Triton when you got home. And even if he didn’t know the answer you would just have to be careful bringing him out of the house. Yeah… you would just do that.

“Guys, I would like to introduce you to (y/n). She’s a fine arts major just like us and knows about mythology. I think she would make a great addition to our group.” Bella introduces you as you enter the room. As you looked around the group of only 4 other people, you realized you really didn’t know anyone.

That is until everyone started to introduce themselves. You never heard of the first three—Brian, James and Kyle—but you found the last name, Marissa Samudra, quite familiar. You wonder if she was that Marissa.

Who you were talking about was Marissa, the hottest girl in school Marissa. Well, at least that’s what all the boys in your major told you. The girl in front of you at least seemed to fit the part. With white silk like skin, light green eyes and dyed coral pink hair, she truly was a sight to see.

“Okay. So shall we get started.” James suddenly spoke up, seeming to want to get the meeting started. You nodded your head in agreement before taking a seat next to Holly. As well as across from Marissa. “Well, I think we should first decide which god we should do. Culinary, Music, Visual performing arts and architecture already have chosen Aphrodite, Hades, Ares and Zeus. (Y/n)…”

You lift your head up at the call of your name.

“…as you know the most about Mythology, who do you think we should pick?”

“Well,…” You feel yourself pause, your palms growing sweaty out of nervousness. You really didn’t know that much about Greek Gods, only the class you took last year and the books you skimmed this morning. You also didn’t expect so many of the main gods to be taken already.

“…How about…”

You needed to think of someone fast. Someone that would satisfy all parties here. Someone that would bedazzle people coming to the festival.

“…Poseidon…?”

Why… Why was that what your brain had come up with? Poseidon? The very god that you were cursing out this morning. Wishing near death upon.

“Fish man?” Brian questioned, letting out a small chuckle at his own joke, “You really want to go with Fish man as our god? Isn’t there anyone better?”

“I think Poseidon is pretty…cool.” You feel a shiver go up your spine as you compliment the man. It was official, you might actually puke. “…He’s the king of the seas. It gives us a lot to work with for his character. Especially since most Fine Arts students are good at realistic elements, we could really do well on painting or using sea life.”

“True… but—“

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

You are shocked as you hear Marissa cut Brian off. When you first sat down, she seemed totally uninterested in the topic at hand. Caring more about her hair and nails than anything else. But now, now, she was paying attention to every little thing. You couldn’t help but wonder why. “Oh sorry. I really like the sea. It holds a special place in my heart… you know?”

Oh, that makes sense. You totally forgot Marissa’s paintings were mostly about the ocean and sea. Never drifting off to other topics.

“N-no. That’s actually pretty cool. You know what, we should totally do Posedin… or whatever the dude’s name is. He sounds really cool.” Bryan agrees as he bashfully rubs the back of his neck. Gross, could he make it any less obvious that he was smitten by her. And not in a nice way either.

You feel yourself shiver as you watch him sneak small glances down at Marissa’s chest area. Disgusting pervert…

“Well, with that decided let’s move on…”

…Great… You could already tell this was going to be a long meeting…

—.—.—.—.—

Again, for what felt like the hundredth time today, you banged your head against the wall. This time however it was against the door of your apartment.

“Seriously… a Café…?”

Yes, a Café. That’s the brilliant idea your group came up with. An under the sea type themed café.

In hindsight it didn’t sound all that bad. You could have a couple of students paint some props and decorations. Then another couple of students who know how to cook plan out the menu. Maybe even borrow some culinary students if you were lucky.

But,… there’s that.

Outnumbered three to two, the boys of your group insisted the girls that are serving customers should wear togas. Togas. They stated it was to bring in more customers but it was pretty obvious they had other intentions behind it. Especially since they didn’t even bother waiting a couple of minutes afterwards to ask if Marissa wanted to be part of the waiting staff.

“Poor girl… I feel bad for her.” You mumble to yourself as you pull out your keys, finally unlocking the door to your apartment. You wished you could just beat all those men senseless with a baseball bat. “That’s actually not a bad idea… Could I bring a wooden club and say that it's part of the character? They seem to not know that much about—“

“Miss (y/n)!” You hear shouted as something comes barreling into you. Knocking you onto the ground right as you enter your apartment. “O-oops I meant to only say (y/n)…”

Even though you got the air literally knocked out of you, you still let out a small chuckle as you reached up to run a hand through the perpetrator’s locks. Triton’s blonde locks. “It’s okay. I only told you this morning to stop referring to me so formally. It will take time for you to get used to it.”

Suddenly, you wince at a feeling of pain as you move slightly. Triton sure was strong. You, honestly, wondered if he held back some strength when he jumped at you. If so, you wondered how strong Triton was nonetheless an adult god.

Speaking of an adult god…

“Hey Triton.” The boy lifts his head up at your call, “Do any gods live on earth?”

The boy seemed to take a moment to think, “Well kind of? Not really Greek Gods though. Most of them are too proud to live with humans.”

“Oh well that’s goo— Wait, a minute! Other gods are real as well!?”

Triton nods his head furiously, “Yeah pretty much all gods. As long as it is considered as one, it exists. There’s Nordic gods…, Indian gods…, Oh! Even Buddha. I like Buddha, even though I’ve only met him once. He introduced me to salt water taffy! It’s delicious.”

“I-I see…I’ll try to get you some then. Another time.” As much as you wanted to hide your surprise you couldn’t. Learning that Greek Gods actually existed was one situation but learning that All Gods existed was a whole nother ball game. Did that mean demons existed as well?

“Hey (y/n). Could I ask you a question?” Triton asks, suddenly seeming bashful all of a sudden.

“Sure. What’s up?”

“Could I…” Triton pauses for a moment, “Could I call you…”

You leaned closer to Triton as his voice slowly got softer and softer at the end. His ears and cheeks were bright red as he waited for you to answer. However, you couldn’t answer him as you didn’t hear the last part of what he said.

“I apologize. Could you repeat what you said, Triton? I couldn’t hear the end of it.” You felt bad for asking him to repeat it as his face only seemed to get even more red when you asked.

“I-I… Could I call you… Mom?”

It was silent as his question, or rather request, fell upon your ears. You thought about it for a moment. Especially whether it was morally right for you to have him call you ‘mom’. Even if his true mother was a terrible person, she was still his mother.

Though, then again, She really didn’t act like his mother. Especially in all her hundreds of years of existence of having him. At least from what you’ve heard from Triton. She’s had plenty of chances to show her love for him and she never did.

“Of…Of course you can.”

You feel yourself smile as Triton’s face lit up. And you knew, Deep down inside, that you did the right thing. You would show this boy the love he deserved.

“Hey (Y— Mom.” You giggle at how Triton seemed to practically beam with happiness once the title left his lips.

“Yes, Triton?”

“Could we have dinner right now?”

You feel yourself jump up a little in surprise. Since you stayed later than what you usually would, due to the meeting, you didn’t have anything prepared ahead of time for dinner.

“Ah, yes. Do you think you could wait in the living room while I prepare it?”

“Of course!” Triton answers as he scrambles up off of you. As you make your way to the kitchen—which was technically in the same room as the living room—to start dinner, you find yourself drifting off into your thoughts.

You realized you really hadn’t thought this through. Taking care of Triton and all. Your apartment was small, he didn’t have his own room, he seemed to eat a lot more than a human boy his physical age and so much more.

You wouldn’t be able to buy a bigger apartment right now. Going through college and all. But you could take more shifts at work. After all, it was literally down the street. You were also good friends with the owner of the toy shop next door. You bet he would allow Triton to play with a couple of toys while you worked.

As you continue to list things you would need to take care of Triton especially if it was long term, Triton was watching cartoons on the couch.

“…Wonder cats will be right back!…”

As the show goes to commercial break, Triton feels himself let out a sigh. Television sure was awesome and all, much better than the plays and coliseum matches used to entertain gods, but he despised ads more than anything.

“Who in the world created such a malicious thing…”

Triton’s voice trails off at the end as the ad changes to another. As he stares at the screen, he feels a shiver shoot down his spine. As quickly as he could, Triton changes the channel to another before shakily dropping the television remote. A cold sheen of sweat breaks out all over his skin as he collapses back onto the couch.

To anyone else, the commercial before looked like any normal hair dye commercial seen on Tv. But not to Triton. Especially when he saw something oh so familiar.

“T-that hair color…” Triton feels himself shiver at the thought, “L-looked too much like Aunties. Mom’s…No…

…Amphitrite’s Sister.”

Author Note: Ahhh this chapter contained so much but I knew I couldn’t split it up. Especially if I was doing posting Tuesdays and Thursdays. I was worried that the time frame in between would mess my readers up. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this Chapter. I know there wasn’t a lot of Triton moments but I wanted to get the ball rolling on the plot so that things and certain characters (*cough* Poseidon *cough*) will appear soon. Well that’s it for now, see you next time :)))

Taglist: @angeli-fucking-cat @marixxhq

[sariahsue]

A Cat of Their Own - Ch 9

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

Sabine closed the register and waved goodbye to the last customers as Marinette shuffled into the bakery. A cold gust of wind blew in with her, and the door chime tinkled.

"How was school?"

"Fine, Mama," Marinette said, dropping her backpack on the floor next to the counter. It was Friday afternoon, and business was slow. Only the two of them and Tom were left in the bakery, but Marinette checked over her shoulder anyway before opening her purse and sliding a cookie off the counter and into her purse for Tikki. "Can you text Cat Noir and ask if he can play some video games?"

"Don't you have some homework to do?" Tom asked, poking his head through the kitchen door. A small cloud of flour puffed off his hands as he clapped them on his apron.

"No. We have two tests on Monday, so we're just studying this weekend instead. I've already got a study session planned with Alya."

That was one of the many things that had changed since Marinette's discovery that Adrien liked someone else. She used to have a study group with Alya, Nino, and Adrien (that she'd insisted on calling "study dates"), but the group had been split in two, and Marinette's grades were suffering for it. Or maybe that was just the heartbreak. Sabine sent the message, and Cat Noir texted back quickly.

"He said he's sorry, but he has fencing practice. He can play in an hour or so. Is that okay? Marinette?"

Marinette was staring at her, wide-eyed and unseeing. "Fencing?" she asked faintly. "He fences?"

"Why?" Tom asked, concerned. He wiped his hands one final time and leaned toward her.

"Fencing and Mandarin," Marinette said, her forehead scrunched in concentration. "Has he said anything about basketball? Or piano or a job he doesn't like?"

This sounded like identity information. Sabine looked up at Tom before answering. He looked as worried as she felt. "I'm not sure about basketball or a job, but he's mentioned piano lessons before."

"He's been playing for years," Tom added. "Are you-"

Tom's voice faltered at Marinette's reaction. She swayed on the spot and looked like she was about to be sick.

"Are you feeling well, sweetheart?" If she truly was figuring out his identity, why was she looking so upset? She racked her own memory for someone Marinette would know with those traits and came up empty. Was it someone bad?

"Fine. It's just a lot of coincidences." She reached for her purse and took out her phone and started swiping through her contacts. "He can't really be the same person. Can I see your phone?"

"What are you going to do?" asked Tom, handing it over.

"I've got to be wrong, but I have to check. If I don't- I just need to get this crazy idea out of my head." Her voice became softer and softer until it died away as she scrolled through his contact list. She stopped when she found the entry for Catson. "There's no way. It's just a lot of coincidences." Her finger hovered over the screen a few more seconds, like she was afraid of what she might find. "I'm just proving it's not true before it drives me nuts. That's all."

Sabine wasn't sure if Marinette was even speaking to them at this point. Even though she'd insisted it was fine, babbling like this was never a good sign.

An identity reveal was one of Marinette's greatest fears. It didn't make any sense to Sabine. And she reminded herself that it didn't matter. Whatever happened, she would listen and be responsive to whatever Marinette thought was distressing.

"I have to be wrong," Marinette whispered, and she punched open the contact and held up her own phone for comparison, careful to keep both screens hidden from view so they couldn't see the name she was looking at. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the two numbers, steadily growing wider, her face more panicked.

"Honey?" Sabine asked. She braced for impact.

"THAT'S NOT POSSIBLE!" Marinette practically threw Tom's phone back at him and bolted up the stairway, screaming incoherently.

Tikki stayed behind. "Everything is fine," she said, flying in front of them when they made to follow Marinette up the stairs and into their apartment.

"Fine?" they asked together.

"She's just surprised." The kwami floated lazily through the air, antennae bobbing slowly. "This is wonderful, really. I've been waiting for this since you traded phone numbers! And now it's here!" Her voice, normally squeaky, rose even higher in pitch.

"Should we go check on her anyway?" Tom asked. A customer walked in right at that moment, bell chiming happily, and Tikki dove out of sight behind the counter.

"I'll go talk to her," Sabine said, patting the register absently. Tikki followed closely, gliding along the floor out of sight.

Marinette wasn't in the living room or the bathroom, so Sabine knocked softly on the trapdoor that led to her bedroom. When no one answered, she pushed it open and peeked inside. Marinette lay on her back across her chaise, head buried under a small pink pillow. That was a good sign. If she'd wanted to be alone, she would have gone to the balcony. She was looking for someone to talk to. Sabine let herself in and sat down on the floor next to her.

"I knew texting was a bad idea," Marinette said in a muffled voice.

"Everything's fine, Marinette," Tikki said, flitting up to stroke the tips of her hair. "You'll see. It's not so bad."

Sabine frowned. Had she sounded like that just a few days ago? Dismissive?

"I know who he is," Marinette said, ignoring the comment. "And now I have to tell him that I figured it out. This changes everything!"

Sabine saw her opening. "Everything? Really?"

"YES!" Marinette wailed. "I'll never see him the same way again!"

"Does it change the fact that you're a good team?"

Marinette paused. "Well, no, but-"

If she'd had his contact in her phone, it meant that they were at least on speaking terms as civilians, which gave Sabine another idea. "Does it change that you're friends in or out of the mask?"

"No." She flopped onto her stomach and buried her face into the pillow.

"Or that you want to protect each other? That he is, in your own words, your 'favorite dork'?"

Marinette had no response for these questions, which left a chance for Tikki to sneak into the conversation. "Does it make you like him less?"

Sabine watched as one half of Marinette's left cheek, the only part of her face she could see, went bright red. Tikki had known which question to ask, apparently.

"Change is always scary," Sabine said, undoing Marinette's pigtails so she could stroke her hair. That had always calmed her down as a child. It usually worked on the teenager, as well. "But it can be scary in a good way sometimes." Tikki nodded her approval of that sentiment but kept quiet, and Sabine was grateful for the silent backup.

After a few minutes of hair stroking, Marinette seemed to have calmed down enough for coherent conversation again.

"Do you know him well?" Sabine asked. "The boy under the mask?" She had his phone number, so the answer was probably yes.

"I thought I did," Marinette said, turning her head to face her mother. It didn't look like she'd been crying. Perhaps Tikki had been right. She wasn't upset, just in shock. Marinette took a deep breath and closed her eyes before continuing. "But I got so many things wrong about him. About both of them!"

"Like what?" Sabine asked.

"Like everything! I thought Cat Noir was just this big, showy goofball."

"He does come off that way sometimes," Sabine said. "Does he not act that way as a civilian?"

Marinette shook her head. "Huh. He's been texting you two this whole time. Civilian him, I mean. I thought he'd been texting that girl he likes..."

"Do you know who the girl is?" Sabine asked.

"That..." Marinette said. "That girl is..." She picked the pillow back up, and buried her head underneath it, shrieking quietly into the chaise cushion. Tikki was almost batted into the corner of the room by her flailing feet.

A loud knock rapped at the trapdoor, and Sabine deftly avoided thrashing limbs as she rose to open it.

Tom poked his head in cautiously. "I've got hot chocolate for her. How's she doing?"

"Oh, she's great!" Tikki answered, a broad smile on her face.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?!" Marinette wailed. "I told him so many stupid things!"

"And I'm sure he'll still love you."

Sabine took the tray from Tom and moved to let him in. It was heavy with five mugs of hot chocolate (Marinette always had two when she was upset), and a pile of cookies.

Despite her tantrum, Marinette was still up for eating half the pile of cookies herself. Tikki ate the other half.

Aside from staring into space with blank eyes, she looked like she was absorbing the new information. The food was a helpful distraction, and Sabine saw another opening. "So one of your greatest fears came true today," she said as Marinette worked on the final cookie. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm waiting for something to go wrong." Marinette spoke to the floor more than to them. "This is such a huge security risk. Some of the akumas we've faced can use mind control. We've gotten captured a few times. What if I'm forced to reveal who he is? I'm going to put him into danger!"

"That does sound terrible," Sabine said.

Marinette sat up straighter and smiled gratefully at her. "Thank you."

"Haven't you fought mind controlling akumas before?" Tom asked. "Like Zombizou?"

"Well, yeah," Marinette said, leaning into her mother's side.

"You've never run into that problem before. No one's ever been able to make you reveal his identity," Sabine said. "And it's been two years."

"That's because I didn't know before!" Marinette said. "Now that I do, that will change."

"Have they ever tried to make you?" Tikki asked.

Marinette hesitated. "No."

"And why is that?"

Marinette didn't have an answer, so she sidestepped. "Tikki, if people think we know each others' identities, they'll probably start trying to make us. Who's side are you on?"

"Has anyone ever tried to make you reveal your own identity?" Sabine asked.

Marinette thought about it, and then folded her arms in protest. "Well," she said. "It's still against the rules."

"The rules we have now aren't always the rules," Tikki said. "They change with each different situation, and I'd say this changes the situation you're in quite a lot."

"Is there anything else that could go wrong from this?" Sabine asked, taking Marinette's hand. "Could we prevent the worst from happening before it does?"

"The worst…" Marinette said, nibbling the edge of a cookie. "If an akuma making us give up our secrets isn't bad enough for you, I don't know what is."

"Is that it?" Sabine said.

Marinette shook her head slowly. "And just… it changes so much."

"Do you think you might be worrying about this more than you need to?" Sabine asked. When Marinette didn't answer, Sabine turned to Tikki for help. "Has anything like this happened before?" Surely, it must have, and she wanted the kwami's opinion.

"Identities get exchanged almost every time," Tikki said. "And it's usually fine. Though," she paused, "every situation is different."

They let Marinette take in that information in silence.

"It's game night tomorrow," Tom said after the cookies and hot chocolate were all gone. The three of them were crammed onto the chaise, Marinette squished in the middle, not that she was complaining.

"It's still on," Marinette said. "And he should be done fencing practice in a few minutes. I need to talk to him." She put down her cup and licked the rest of the chocolate off of her lips.

"Are you going to-" Sabine began.

"Tell him who I am?" Marinette said. She stopped to consider, but she finally shook her head. "No. And I'm not telling you who he is either. Come on, Tikki. Spots on!" In a whirl of pink and sparkles, their little girl disappeared onto the balcony.

----

Cat Noir was slightly panicking – only slightly – as he waited for Ladybug at the top of the Palais Garnier. Ladybug had called him on his baton as soon as he'd gotten out of fencing practice, informing him something urgent had come up, and they needed to talk about in person, as soon as possible. Nothing was really wrong she'd said, but her tone made him hurry. He'd been pacing between the statues on the roof, mentally running through worst-case scenarios, since he'd arrived. It was fortunate for him that he didn't need to wait long.

Instead of dropping in beside him like she normally would, she landed softly on the opposite end of the roof and started walking toward him slowly. It gave his heart plenty of time to start pumping at double speed. Her hair was a mess, and she didn't look up at him as she got nearer. She'd said nothing was wrong, so why was she acting like something was wrong?

"Hey," he said when she got close enough, offering a little smile and wave that she didn't return, or even see.

"I know who you are." The words tumbled out so fast that she almost tripped over them. She still hadn't looked at him. "I told you trading phone numbers was a bad idea. We shared too much information, and... now I know who you really are."

His heart clenched. She had learned his identity and she probably hated him and she'd come to tell him they couldn't be partners anymore. "A-are you sure?" Cat Noir asked. "Because you could have gotten-"

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, meeting his eyes for the first time. And smiling. "Adrien."

An electric current coursed through his whole body at the name. But it wasn't from shock. He'd never been so happy to hear his own name before.

"I can't tell you how I found out," she said, eyes dropping back down to her hands that were clasped in front of her, "because then you'd be able to figure me out too."

"Did you tell your parents yet?" he asked. The question felt mechanical, disconnected from the surreal joy he felt. Ladybug knew who he was. She wasn't upset. The reveal had happened, and he hadn't even been there for it!

"No," she said, shaking her head for added emphasis. "And I'm not going to."

"I'm fine with it," he said. "I don't care if they-"

"I do! The fewer people that know, the safer you'll be."

"Is that the real reason?"

Ladybug studied his boots and didn't answer.

"So I guess that rules out me learning who you are today, huh?" He tried to hide his disappointment.

She glanced up at him, her head cocked to the side, eyes pinched with concern. She'd heard the hurt through the humor. "Not... not yet," she said, voice shaking slightly. "I'm not ready yet. I should tell you. I mean, you deserve to know and it would make everything easier, but I'm just not-"

"Hey," he said, grabbing her shoulders and cutting off her babbling. Ladybug rarely got nervous, but he knew her well enough to know that word soup was her most reliable anxious tell. "It's okay," he said. "I understand." He waited before continuing, making sure he had her full attention. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I never want to pressure you into anything."

With his hands on her shoulders, he felt the moment that the tension left them. Her whole frame seemed to unwind slightly, and she smiled up at him.

"Thank you," she said. "I do want to tell you. Just..."

"Just not yet," he finished. "I get it. Take your time." He let go of her shoulders and took a step back. She would need space right now. The best way he could make her feel better would be to let her deal with this information in her own way, even though he desperately wanted to wrap her in a hug and shout with joy. She knew who he was!

Ladybug waved goodbye and took off, like he had expected she would, but not before doing something completely unexpected. She took a step closer to him, stepped on her tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek.

Cat Noir didn't move from that spot for a long, long time.

Read chapter 10 here

----

Tag list: @redhoodsdoll @lunadensmidnightprowl @fleurie3am15inspo @ladybug-182 @vixen-uchiha @secretacademia @little-boats-on-a-lake @wonderbat91939 @thecatsart0406 @heinrode @dawn-the-rithmatist @maybe-potato @tbehartoo @lovej0w0y @nonbeenary-enbee @marimause-15

[heezoneie]

Enhypen: when you wake them up just to say "I love you"

i love this one 🥺! thank you for the request! <3

group: enhypen

member: all

genre: the fluffiest

word count: 1.5k

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

Heeseung: You had just gotten home from a long day at school/work, and all you wanted to do was cuddle with your boyfriend and eat some food. As you set your stuff down, you looked around noticing your boyfriend was no where to be seen. You looked at the time on your watch: 8:30 pm. “It’s not that late,” you thought. Making your way to your shared bedroom, you saw the door slightly ajar. You quietly pushed opened the door and walked in to see your boyfriend passed out in the middle of the bed. Smiling fondly, you walked up to Heeseung. His adorable face was squished against the pillow, and to you that was the best sight ever. After admiring Heeseung for a little, you went to put on some more comfortable clothes for the night. You crawled into bed and snuggled up to Heeseung. His eyes fluttered open. “Hi baby,” He said with a raspy voice. Looking at him, your eyes held nothing but pure adoration for him. “Hey,” you whispered. He put his face in the crook of your neck, “When did you get home?” “Just now, you look so cute while you sleep,” you mused. He buried his face deeper as heat rose to his cheeks. A comfortable silence fell, and neither of you wanted to leave your current position. “I love you,” You said with sincerity. Heeseung’s eyes met with yours, and he leaned in to connect your lips. “I love you too.”

Jay: The journey home was long. Sitting in the back of the travel van, Jay rested on your shoulder. You had your earbuds in, listening to whatever shuffled through your playlists. While one hand was latched with Jay’s, you used the other to adjust the air to make sure it wasn’t too cold for him. The passing lights mixed with the moon beams cascaded onto your boyfriends face. You didn’t think it was possible for someone to look so ethereal. Even though he wasn’t all dressed up as he normally is, you couldn’t have been more in love. His dark hair falling over his forehead perfectly, while his body was covered in a simple sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. You were truly in love. You began to pepper kisses lightly over his face. Lifting his head up, he looked at you with droopy eyes. “How did i get so lucky?” You said without thinking. A blush found it’s way to the tips of his ears and cheeks. “Honey....” He trailed off, taken back from just waking up. It wasn’t very often Jay got flustered like this. You decided to take it to your advantage. “I’m so in love with you, I don’t think you understand.” Jay could see the genuine glint of love in your eyes. “I love you too, honey.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, leaving you falling deeper in love with the boy in front of you.

Jake: The sun was beginning to set, the purple and pink hues in the sky slowly dissipating into the twinkling black night. Your head rested on Jake’s chest as you two stared at the stars. It was a normal thing for you two to go stargazing. There was something so special and intimate about the moments that only you, Jake, and the stars would ever know about. The countless kisses and jokes made under the stars were something that you couldn’t replace with anything else. You had been rambling about a possible shooting star, when you noticed Jake’s breathing had gotten heavier and slower. You looked up from you position on his chest, to see your amazing boyfriend illuminated by stars. The shine of moonlight graced his face like a painting made by the most exquisite of artists. Every detail of him made you fall deeper and deeper into him. Moving some hair out of his eyes, you whispered, “I love you, so much. I’ll never be able to express how much Jake.” His mouth curved up into his heart-melting smile. “I’m glad we feel the same way angel.”

Sunghoon: Curled up under blankets, you and Sunghoon’s eyes were glued to the tv in font of you. You guys were having your annual movie night. Typically, it would be loud, as the other boys join you, but tonight they were all busy doing who knows what. Of course, neither you nor Sunghoon were complaining, this just meant more alone time. With their comeback happening, you and Sunghoon haven’t been able to be alone, him doing show after show, stage after stage. Being the supportive s/o you were, you made sure not to complain, all you wanted was to see your boy happy. You began to notice how Sunghoon’s eyes started to get heavier, trying to stay awake for you. You slowly reached your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his soft hair. After his eyes finally shut, you placed a kiss on his head, “I love you Hoonie.” Too tired to make coherent words, Sunghoon snuggled impossibly closer as to return the gesture.

Sunoo: The sounds of the rain and the soft music leaving the speaker filled the silence of the room. The space illuminated by the candles lit on the bedside table. Even though it was a rainy and cold day, you couldn’t help but relish in the time you were being granted with Sunoo. You both were cuddled together under the fluffy comforter in his bed. You two had been in his room for the past couple hours, hiding from his fellow members, and cherishing being with each other. The day consisted of you two whispering sweet little words and playful cuddles, falling deeper in love. You did whatever you could to make sure you got see the beautiful smile that could easily put any diamonds or gems to shame. After deciding to rest, Sunoo fell asleep rather quickly, leaving you time to admire his features. A quiet “I love you,” slipped past your lips and into his ears. Despite being in dreamland, he still heard you. Mumbling a sleepy, “I love you too,” Sunoo’s grasp on you tightened. Smiling softly at the sight, you laid your head down and followed him into a deep sleep.

Jungwon: Gathering every pillow in sight, you and Jungwon began to build the most epic pillow fort anybody could have seen. Laughing amongst yourselves, the other members helped bring you guys blankets for your little fort. After about an hour of trial and error, you both finally were able to find a sturdy way to keep your fort from falling. Setting up extra blankets and pillows, you both cocooned yourselves together in the fort. A laptop sitting in the middle of the fort played a movie, which helped give some light in your otherwise dark space. Adjusting to a more comfortable position, you and Jungwon tangled your legs together. Your head in the crook of his neck, and his own resting over top yours. Jungwon soon fell asleep, unbeknownst to you. Hearing some mumbling coming from the boy, you assumed he was still awake. Some more incoherent words fell from his lips, and you decided to speak up, “Wonie? I can’t understand what your saying.” Lifting your head, you looked at his sleeping face. As you did so, his words began to get more clearer, “I love you...” A blush formed on your cheeks, and you laid your head back down. “I love you too, Wonie.”

Ni-ki: Riki had come to spend the day with you at your house, as he had time away from the company. He arrived at your house around lunchtime, with a bag of food he picked up on his way over. After eating the food, you both retreated to your living room to hang out. “We should play Just Dance,” Riki said looking over to you. “Nooo, you know your gonna beat me. You have an unfair advantage.” You huffed. Chuckling, he stood up to turn on the game system anyways. He walked back over to where to sat on the couch, and handed you a controller. “Get up, we are gonna have fun. If it makes you feel better we can do the team setting so you are guaranteed to do good.” He offered. Deciding to participate, you stood up. “Fine, but ONLY if we do teams.” Smiling, he pulled you to the middle of the room and you two began your Just Dance marathon. After a couple of hours, you both collapsed on the couch, Riki on top of you. “Wow, i’m so tired after that. I feel like i just ran 80 miles.” Laughing at your statement, Riki found himself falling asleep rather quickly to the feeling of your hand running through his hair. Feeling his breathe even out, you whispered a quiet “I love you,” in his ear. “I love you too,” he whispered back. After some time, you realized you were both sweaty, “Riki, we both need to go take showers.” As he lifted his head, you saw a mischievous smile on his face. Looking at him questionably, his hands rose to your sides and began tickling you. It was safe to say neither of you got to take a shower for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~I hope you all enjoyed! feel free to send in any requests, thoughts, or ideas! <3