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winchestersisterimaginessss · 4 months ago

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request: can you write a story based off the the episode 10x3 where they are trying to cure Dean as a demon. Sam for the most part has kept their sister away from demon Dean but she wants to face him and he’s just evil and trying to break her. The whole story is her dealing with all of her emotions and trauma. Obviously in the episode he breaks out of his restraints and maybe he finds the sister in the bunker and tries to kill her and then you can figure out the rest. Just make it super intense and dramatic and detailed. I just think the whole storyline from 10x3 would be soooo good and I know you’d write it exactly how I imagined it with the perfect amount of angst, comfort and everything inbetween ugh I’m so excited if you can write this. thankkkk you!!!!!

A/N: OH IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE. I followed the storyline pretty much of the entire episode and it’s SUCH A LONG STORY. I just kept writing and writing, but I felt it was necessary. I wanted to capture every single emotion and detail to really get a feel on this story because it was such an intense episode already. I hope you love this!! ALSO requests are always open like please you can spam me with a bunch of requests and I’d be so happy. Some stories catch my mind a little more than others but if you have requested something already I am WORKING ON IT I PROMISE!! Just some get my mind/ideas flowing way more than others so they get finished first. If you put in a request already and I haven’t done it yet just do it again and I’ll try to speed it up on writing it. Other than that keep sending in requests!! I’ll write anything lol. Also pls lmk how you like this one it seriously took so much effort and I would absolutely love if I got some feedback!!!!!!

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader (and a little bit of cas hehe)

You sat in the bunker, paralyzed with fear. Dean was back, but he was still a demon. You hadn’t seen much of him because Sam refused to let you around him, but the little you had heard about him it was clear: he wasn’t your brother anymore. He was cold, his eyes pitch black, and there was no hint of remorse behind them. Your body trembled as you fought to hold back a sob. The door opened, and Sam stepped in—he looked utterly broken. He was carrying a cooler full of blood that would hopefully cure Dean of being a demon.

“Sammy,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. He froze at the sound of your voice, taking in the sight of your trembling form. The fear in your eyes hit him hard, and he longed to shield you from the nightmare their family had become. “Hey, bug, what’s going on?” He asked softly, stepping closer. That’s when you saw him fully—his face was exhausted, but it was his eyes, hollow and drained, that told the true story. His appearance was what absolutely crushed you and before you knew what you were doing, you blurted out an apology.

"I’m so sorry, Sam," your voice cracking with emotion. You fought to keep herself together, but the tears came anyway, spilling down your cheeks. "I’m sorry for everything. For this life... for the constant running, the fighting, the endless darkness. I’m sorry we never had a chance to just be—to be a normal family, to be happy." You shook your head, your breath catching as the weight of it all crashed over you. "And now... Dean..." your voice trembled, and you had to stop for a moment, swallowing hard to keep from breaking completely. "He’s not even Dean anymore. And I don’t know what to do, Sam. I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to help."

The tears came faster now, and you didn’t try to stop them. You just let them fall, your chest heaving with each breath. You wiped your face with the sleeve of your jacket, your voice barely a whisper as you added, "I’m just so sorry."

Sam stood frozen for a moment, his heart aching as he watched you crumble. You were apologizing for things you had no control over. It hit him like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, he put down the cooler and moved toward you, his arms instinctively reaching out, pulling you close. He needed to comfort you, to make you feel safe again, even if everything around them felt like it was falling apart.

"Hey, hey," Sam whispered, his voice soft and steady, even though his own heart was breaking. He gently cupped your face in his hands, brushing away the tears that fell from your cheeks. "Don’t ever apologize for this life. You hear me?" His voice wavered, the depth of his love for you clear in every word. "You didn’t ask for any of this either. I know this life has been cruel to us. I know it’s taken so much from us, but none of this is your fault. None of it."

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace, holding you like you were the most important thing in his world—because you were. He buried his face in your hair for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but it was hard. Everything felt impossible. But he knew he couldn’t show you that. You needed him now more than ever, and he’d be damned if he let you feel alone in this.

"You don’t deserve this," he murmured, his voice full of quiet sorrow, but also a fierce protectiveness. "You never deserved any of this. We’re in this together, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You don’t have to carry this by yourself."

He gently pulled back, his hands still on your shoulders, his eyes full of nothing but love and determination. "I don’t care how messed up this world is or how screwed up we are. We’re family, and that means we fight through this. Together. Always."

He wiped your tears softly, his voice full of reassurance. "You’re not alone, and you never will be. I’m here. I’ve got you, no matter what."

You pulled away slightly from Sam, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Your heart ached for him—he was carrying so much, and you knew he was trying to protect you from the worst of it. But the thought of him facing Dean alone, of him struggling with the monster his brother had become, made you feel like you were suffocating.

“I need to help you, Sam,” you said, your voice urgent but soft, almost pleading. You took a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure. "Please. I want to help you. I can’t just sit here while you go through this alone."

Sam's expression hardened, and his hands tightened around your shoulders, as if holding you back from something he knew was dangerous. His eyes were filled with desperation, but there was a clear resistance there—he didn’t want you anywhere near this. He knew the toll it was taking on him, and the thought of you getting involved, of you getting hurt, made his chest tighten with fear.

"Y/N, no," Sam said, his voice low and firm, though there was a raw edge to it. He shook his head slightly, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. "I can’t... I can’t let you do that. You’ve already been through enough, and I’m not dragging you into this. I won’t." His hands gripped your arms tighter, his voice cracking with emotion. "I can handle it. I’ll face Dean. But I can’t let you face him too. You’re not supposed to be in the middle of this. I’m supposed to keep you safe. I won’t risk it."

But you shook your head, the fire in your chest growing stronger. You couldn’t just stand by and watch him suffer alone—not when it was your brother too. The guilt would eat you alive if you didn’t help him now.

"I can’t let you do this alone, Sam," you said, your voice breaking with determination. "I need to face Dean. I need to help you. I know it’s dangerous, but I can’t just... I can’t live with myself if I don’t try. If I don’t help you now, if I don’t stand by your side, I’ll never forgive myself."

Sam’s jaw tightened as he stared at you, conflicted. His protective instinct screamed at him to push you away, to keep you safe. But he could see the resolve in your eyes, the way you were unwilling to back down, and it hit him harder than anything else. He wanted to protect you from this pain, but he couldn’t deny you your choice. You had always been there for him, and it hurt him to know you thought you had to do this.

"Y/N," Sam started, his voice rough, but there was no mistaking the concern in it. "I don’t want you to... I don’t want you to see Dean like this. You’ve already been through so much, and I—" He faltered for a second, taking a breath. "I’m not sure I can keep you safe, not with what he’s become."

You stepped closer to him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the love he had for you and the fear of losing you. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time.

"I have to help, Sam," you said, your voice shaking but resolute. "You don’t have to do this alone. I won’t let you." Your hand gripped his, steady and firm. "We’re in this together. Always."

Sam swallowed hard, his hand reaching up to hold yours, but his eyes stayed on you with that same conflicted pain. Slowly, he nodded, though it was clear how much it hurt him to agree.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "But I’m not going to let you get hurt. I can’t lose you too." He pulled you into another tight embrace, holding you as though he never wanted to let you go, as though you were the one thing still keeping him from falling apart completely. "I’ve got you. And I’ll make sure we both make it through this." You nodded into his chest, but wanted to make sure that he knew you were also there for him. You pulled away from him and walked towards the cooler of blood he had put down.

“Well, we better get started,” you said, trying to sound more certain than you felt as you picked up the cooler. But before you could even take a step, Sam’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm with gentle but unyielding force.

You froze, looking up at him, and the moment you met his eyes, you saw the storm behind them. His jaw was tight, and there was something darker flickering in his gaze, something full of fear—fear for you.

"Wait," Sam said, his voice thick with something you couldn’t place. His grip on your arm didn’t hurt, but it held you still, like he was trying to anchor you in place, to make sure you understood what you were about to face. "Listen to me, okay? You have to be ready for what you’re about to see."

You gulped, but tried to be confident in the situation you found yourself in. "Sam, I’ll be fine."

He shook his head, his hand still on your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin as if trying to calm you. "No, you won’t. You think you know what you're walking into, but you have no idea." His voice lowered, a layer of tenderness creeping in. "This isn't Dean you're going to see in there. He’s a demon, there’s no one possessing him it’s just who he is."

Your stomach dropped, but you held his gaze. “I know Sam." You muttered softly, hearing him say it out loud made you feel nauseous.

Sam’s eyes softened, but the worry never left. He stepped closer to you, his body looming just slightly over yours as if shielding you from something, though you knew he couldn’t protect you from the truth that was waiting for you behind that door. "I know you do," he whispered, his voice rough. "But you need to hear me, okay? It’s different and I’m trying to prepare you in every way possible. He’s going to make you feel things you can’t control. He’s going to manipulate you. He will say things that will make you question everything, make you doubt yourself. He will try to break you."

You frowned, but Sam wasn’t done. He let go of your arm, his hands moving to your shoulders, his touch firm but careful, as if he was afraid even the smallest jolt would shatter you. "He’s good at that. He knows exactly how to twist your feelings—how to twist your memories. He knows how much you love him, and he will use that against you. He will make you feel like you're losing everything. And that—" Sam’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, but he forced himself to keep going. "That will be the hardest part."

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "I won’t give up on him, Sam. I know what Dean is. I know what he means to me."

Sam nodded slowly, his forehead furrowing in quiet desperation. "I know you won’t," he murmured, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened with something close to admiration. "But he IS a demon now... and he WILL make you question everything. You’ve never seen Dean like this. You’ve never seen him like this before."

He let out a sharp breath, like he was weighing how much to say. "It’s not just about seeing him as a demon. It’s about feeling what he will do to you. He is going to make you think he’s gone. That you’ll never get him back. And it’s going to hurt—so much worse than you think." His eyes were dark now, full of an understanding you couldn’t ignore. "You need to prepare yourself. Mentally, emotionally... you need to brace for it. Because when you see him... you won’t recognize him at all. And that’s going to hurt the most."

You felt the weight of his words crash into you. Sam wasn’t trying to scare you—he was trying to protect you, to prepare you. And though a part of you wanted to shake off his worry, to push past it and rush forward to face Dean, you couldn’t. You couldn’t ignore how much he cared.

"I can handle it," you whispered, but even to your own ears, the words sounded fragile.

Sam’s face softened, but the sadness in his eyes deepened and for a long moment, Sam didn’t speak. He just looked at you, his expression unreadable, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing you needed to do this.

"Just promise me one thing," he said, his voice tight. "When you see him—when you look at him—don’t forget who he was. Don't let him make you forget the older brother you’ve always known." He paused, his eyes searching yours, desperately trying to convey every ounce of his care. "Promise me, please, that you won’t let it break you."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you nodded slowly, determined despite the fear twisting in your chest. "I promise, Sam. I won’t forget him. I won’t give up on him."

Sam let out a shaky breath, the weight of his relief almost visible. He squeezed your hand, then took a step back, his eyes still locked onto yours. "Okay," he whispered, his voice full of quiet, helplessness. "If you need to walk away... you do that. You turn away and don’t look back. Not for a second. Don’t give him that satisfaction, okay?"

"Okay, I wont," you said, your voice steady now, even if your heart was pounding through your body. "I’ll come find you if you walk out. You’re not in this alone." Sam reassured, the concern never leaving his face. You nodded and with one last glance, he stepped aside, letting you walk toward the door. You reached for the handle, feeling the cold metal beneath your fingers as Sam’s steady presence lingered behind you.

And with that, you stepped forward, ready—or as ready as you could be—to face your brother who was now a demon.

As soon as you stepped into the room, your eyes locked onto him, and the air seemed to freeze. The coldness that radiated from him was palpable, like a dark aura pressing down on you. Though his eyes weren’t black, there was something in them—something sharp, dangerous—that sent a chill straight through you. It was the unmistakable presence of evil lurking beneath the surface, twisting everything that had once been Dean. For a moment, you froze, instinctively halting in your tracks as the weight of the transformation hit you full force. You wanted to step back, wanted to run, but before you could think about moving, you felt Sam’s hand gently settle on your back, grounding you. His touch was a steady reminder that you weren’t alone, even as the room felt like it was closing in. You walked closer to Dean and watched as the corner of Dean’s mouth curled into a twisted smirk. The room seemed to grow colder as he took a slow, deliberate step toward you. His eyes—those familiar eyes—were colder than you remembered, and the way he looked at you felt wrong. Like you were nothing more than a toy to him. “Well, look at you. My baby sister,” he said, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You think you can save me, don’t you? But here I am. And there you are just standing there, scared shitless.”

As Dean's words sank in, the weight of his twisted gaze making your heart pound in your chest, Sam’s hand on your back tightened slightly, as though he could feel the struggle inside you. Without a second thought, he stepped in front of you, positioning himself between you and Dean, blocking your view. His voice cut through the thick, suffocating air, firm but edged with raw emotion. "Dean, stop," Sam commanded, his words heavy with pain.

But then, something inside you—something deeper, stronger—refused to let him win. You couldn't, not without a fight. You stepped around Sam. "You’re still in there, Dean," you forced yourself to say, despite the tremor in your voice. "I know you are. I won’t let you do this." Dean's grin only widened. "You’re lying to yourself, sweetheart. There’s nothing left of me but this." His voice dropped, almost a growl now, "And this—this is what’s going to destroy you."

Your resolve hardened, and despite the absolute terror gnawing at you, you stood your ground. "You won’t destroy me Dean. Not now. Not ever." You replied, your voice much firmer now.

At the sound of the cooler snapping open, you turned just in time to see Sam pulling out the vials of blood, his eyes meeting yours with an unspoken determination. His hands were steady, but you could see the weight of what he was doing pressing down on him.

"You’re gonna come back, Dean," Sam said, his voice tight with emotion, but resolute. "We’re not letting you go."

He walked towards you, the cooler of blood in his hands. Dean eyes zeroing in on it like a predator. "Really?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mock amusement as Sam set the cooler down on the table with a thud.

Sam sighed, trying to mask the frustration but failing. "For what it's worth, I got your blood type," he said, offering a sarcastic half-smile, before clearing his throat and opening the cooler.

Dean’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a twisted grin. "Sam," he said, his tone low and dark, "I know you think you're gonna try and fix me, but did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to be fixed?" His gaze shifting between you and Sam. "Just let me go. Let me live my life. I won’t bother you." Dean paused, his eyes locking onto you, and his grin stretched wider. "And I pinky promise not to go after our sweet baby sis first."

Your breath caught in your throat. The fear coursed through you like ice, and your hands instinctively gripped the edge of the table. No, don’t let him see it. Don’t show him how much that scares you. But it was impossible to hide. You could feel your heart pounding, your body frozen in place as Dean's words twisted the knife further.

Sam noticed. His jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes on you, locking gazes for a brief moment, silently urging you to stay calm, to stay strong. You nodded, trying to steady your shaking breath, but it felt impossible. You could see Sam’s anger flickering behind his frustration, but he kept his attention on you, silently grounding you, reminding you that you weren’t alone in this. Sam turned back around to take his attention off of you. “Well that didn’t sound promising.”

“What do you care?” Dean asked, his gaze flicking between you and Sam, his voice dripping with mockery.

Sam’s response was sharp, almost a growl. “What do I care?” He let out a huff and rolled his eyes, disbelief dripping from his voice as he looked at Dean. He was trying to stay in control, trying not to let Dean get to him. His eyes flicked back to you, checking on you again, and in that moment, you felt the weight of his silent support. You had to hold it together—for Sam, for Dean, for everyone.

“You’re not going anywhere, Dean. Not until you’re cured and you will be cured.” You said with so much power behind your words.

Sam stepped forward, starting the ritual, but Dean’s voice cut through the tension once more, this time darker, more dangerous.

“You think I’ll sit here like Crowley and get all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this!”

Sam rolled his eyes again, frustration now boiling over. “Yeah, I think we pretty much figured that out.” His words were sharp. Dean’s gaze moved back to you. “You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know I’ve got a hell of a lot more running in me than just demon juice, sweetheart.”

Sam kept his focus on the ritual, his jaw set.

“Mark of Cain, got it,” You muttered, your voice barely more than a whisper, but there was a finality to it.

"That's right," Dean growled, his eyes burning with defiance. You glanced at Sam and saw that the syringes were ready. The tension in the air thickened. You looked back at Dean, trying to mask your fear with a heavy sigh.

"Buckle up," you said, your voice steady despite the nerves crawling under your skin.

"Baby sis, you know I hate shots," Dean muttered, his tone dripping with disdain.

You nodded, your grip tightening around the holy water bottle in your hand. "I hate demons."

As Sam took his final step toward Dean, the air seemed to crackle with the energy of the impending confrontation. Without warning, Dean’s eyes flashed black, and he lunged at Sam with a growl, desperate to stop the ritual.

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed the holy water and splashed it right into his face. Dean recoiled with a howl of pain, but it was enough to give Sam the opening he needed. With swift precision, Sam drove the needle into Dean’s arm.

Dean snarled, his body convulsing with rage and discomfort. Sam was unfazed and spoke with a steady determination. “Look, we’ve got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a whole lot easier on yourself.” Sam’s voice was steady, but the uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Before Dean could respond, he started grunting aggressively, jerking violently against the restraints.

You glanced at Sam, seeing the look of hesitation flicker across his face, but before you could say anything, he grabbed another syringe and stabbed it into Dean’s arm. Dean writhed in pain, his eyes glaring up at Sam with unrestrained fury.

“For all you know, you could be killing me,” Dean breathed heavily, the words laced with anger.

Sam turned abruptly, slamming something down onto the table in frustration. “Or you’re just messing with me. Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.” His voice was firm, but the confidence never quite reached his face.

Dean chuckled darkly. “The lore,” he scoffed. “Hunters, men of letters. What a load of crap it all is.”

Sam squinted his eyes, looking him up and down, but kept quiet. “Oh, you got nothing?” He glanced at Sam, then shifted his attention to you. “What about you, sweetheart?”

You gulped, the fear creeping up on you, but you forced the words out. “This isn’t the real you even talking.”

Dean’s grin widened. “Oh, it’s the real me, all right.” His voice dropped, becoming colder, darker. “The new real me. The me that sees things for what they really are.”

The air around him seemed to pulse with something dark, something raw. His eyes locked onto you, and you felt a cold chill crawl down your spine.

“And I can see what you really are. You’re absolutely terrified,” he continued, his voice dripping with venom. “You thought I’d be broken—but I’m not. This is me now. And you? You’re just another casualty. You’re going to burn, slowly and painfully—just like our mommy you never got to know.”

Your eyes widened in absolute shock at the threat and the mention of your mother, shocked he could even think of such a thing. His gaze flickered over you, studying your reaction with a twisted satisfaction. "I could make you beg for death, you know. You think I’m still Dean in here, but he’s long gone. And you’re going to be so disappointed when you realize that."

Dean’s laugh was low, a sound that sent a jolt of dread through your body. “You can’t save me. And you can’t save yourself, either. I’ll make sure of that. But hey, maybe I’ll keep you alive for a while, let you watch it all fall apart. Maybe make you beg for death? Won’t that be fun?”

The venom in his words stung like poison, and it took every ounce of strength not to crumble in front of him. He could see it—the fear was written all over your face, and he was savoring it. He wanted to break you, and deep down, you knew he was capable of it.

Your breath was shallow, and panic bubbled up in your chest, threatening to overflow. The room felt suffocating. Your world began to blur, and you could feel your knees shaking beneath you. “I’ll make you scream! I’ll make you beg for death and watch as you choke on your own blood!” He screamed at you who was frozen in fear. Sam, enraged, stormed toward Dean. His eyes were filled with a fury that only came from seeing someone he loved in pain. Without hesitation, he jabbed the next syringe into Dean’s neck.

Dean screamed, a sound so raw and guttural that it made you jump, your entire body trembling with fear. It felt like the world around you was falling apart.

Sam threw the syringe on the table, turning away from Dean. The tension in the room was unbearable, the air thick with dread. Dean’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and mocking.

“Let me ask you this. If this doesn’t work—you both know what you got to do to me, right?” His voice was cold, menacing. “You got the stomach for that, Sam?! Because I know Y/N doesn’t!”

Your breath caught in your throat, a wave of nausea rising in your chest. His words felt like a punch, each one more suffocating than the last. You couldn’t take it anymore. Your knees buckled as you rushed out of the room, your mind spinning, your heart pounding. You gasped for air, your chest tight, and the world around you felt like it was blurring together. The threats, the fear, the helplessness—it was all too much. You couldn’t bear to hear any more. You couldn’t bear to be here.

The weakness weighed too heavy on you. The fear was too real. You stumbled down the hall, desperate for air, desperate for a moment where you didn’t feel like you were drowning. You were spiraling, every breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as your body shook uncontrollably. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, the walls closing in around you. Your hands scrambled for stability from the walls, but they felt foreign, unreal, slipping away from you as if nothing could anchor you. Your heart pounded so violently that it drowned out everything else. The world was blurring, and you couldn’t stop it. You screamed in panic, the noise getting strangled in your throat, swallowed by the terror that was overtaking you. You were shaking so hard, your body threatening to collapse under the weight of the fear. Your breath was ragged, each inhale burning, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs. Your legs buckled beneath you, but you didn’t fall. You clung to the walls, nails digging into the surface as if they could keep you from falling apart. Tears streamed down your face, and you didn’t know how to stop them.

Then, suddenly, Sam was there, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you against him. His presence was grounding, but it didn’t stop the panic raging inside you. You trembled against him, clinging to his shirt, your fists clutching onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away into the terror.

“Shh, I’m here. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe,” Sam’s voice was soft but firm, filled with that quiet steadiness you knew and trusted. But it felt so distant through the haze of panic that surrounded you.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. The fear suffocated you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t catch your breath. “I can’t—Sam, I can’t—” You gasped, clutching harder, the terror building, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

Sam held you tighter, his hands gently guiding your shaky arms around him as he spoke again, more urgently this time. “Breathe, okay? I need you to breathe with me. In through your nose, slow. You’re okay. I’m right here.” His words were calm, but his voice betrayed how upset he was, how desperately he was trying to keep you from falling into the abyss of panic.

But you couldn’t. The fear was overwhelming, and every breath felt like it was ripping you apart. “I can’t,” you sobbed, your chest heaving. “I can’t breathe, Sam. I can’t...” You were sobbing so hard now, shaking violently, your body convulsing in his arms. “I can’t. He’s going to kill us... Sam, he said it himself. He said it—he’s going to—”

Sam’s eyes widened in horror as your words hit him like a punch. His grip tightened on you, his hands holding your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “No, no, no. Look at me. Look at me.” His voice cracked with emotion, raw and full of pain as he tried to steady you. “He’s not going to touch you. I swear to you. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The weight of your fear crashed down on you, but you could barely hear him through the fog of panic. “He said it... he said he was going to kill us... I can’t— Oh my God! He’s going to kill me... I can’t—I can’t—”

“No,” Sam interrupted, his voice low but filled with an undeniable certainty. He gripped your shoulders, his thumbs gently brushing the tear-streaked skin of your face. “He’s not going to hurt you. You hear me? And you’re not alone. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re not going to die.”

You shook your head, but the words didn’t make sense. The terror was louder than anything else, drowning out everything he was saying. But Sam wasn’t giving up. His hands were on you, steadying you, grounding you. His voice was insistent, unwavering. “Breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, slow. You’re okay. You’re safe. You can do this. You’re strong enough to do this. In through your nose... slow... just like that. I’m right here.”

You tried, you really did. But the air still felt thick, like you couldn’t get enough in. You gasped, shaking so violently you thought you might break.

Sam didn’t let go. He cupped your cheeks, his breath steady and warm against your skin. “I’m right here with you. You can breathe. You can breathe. I promise you’re going to be okay.”

His voice, so calm, so grounded, started to break through the haze of panic just a little. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, steady and strong. Your hands loosened their grip on his shirt, though you still clung to him, desperate for anything to keep you from falling apart.

Slowly, shakily, you tried to breathe. It wasn’t perfect, but the tremors in your chest started to ease just a fraction.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, barely able to get the words out through the rawness in your throat. "I couldn’t handle it, Sammy. I thought I could… I really did. But he—" You cut yourself off with another sob, pressing your face into his chest, your fingers still clutching his shirt as though it were the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment, but his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. He didn’t try to pull away or tell you to stop, just held you through the storm. His hand stroked your hair gently, his fingers brushing your skin with an almost tender urgency, as though he couldn’t bear to see you so broken.

"He scared me," you whispered again, voice broken, barely audible as you clung to him, feeling like a piece of you was slipping away with each word. “I couldn’t stop the fear... I thought I could keep it together, but I... I couldn’t. I’m so sorry." Your voice cracked on the last part, the weight of it pressing down on you like a thousand tons.

Sam pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression full of concern and something deeper, something that wasn’t just about fear, but understanding. "Don’t apologize," he said softly, his voice so gentle yet filled with an unmistakable strength. "You don’t have to be sorry. What he said... what he did... It should have scared you. It was pure evil."

You shook your head, still unable to stop the tears. "I should’ve been stronger. I—I thought I could handle it. I thought I could... but I wasn’t ready, Sam. I wasn’t ready for it. I—"

Sam cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes soft but firm. "Hey, listen to me," he whispered, his voice low but filled with an unwavering confidence. "You are strong. You’re stronger than you think. You don’t have to apologize. We’re going to get through this, I promise."

His voice held a certainty that slowly, almost imperceptibly, started to sink into your bones.

You closed your eyes, leaning into him again, feeling a sense of relief you hadn’t realized you were missing. He held you for a moment longer, his hands gently brushing through your hair, offering silent comfort. When you finally pulled away, his eyes softened, filled with concern, but there was a quiet determination there too. "Listen, I think you need a little time. Clear your head. You don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to. If you need to get away from this, it’s okay." You blinked up at him, trying to process his words, still shaken but feeling just a little steadier than before. Sam reached for your hands, squeezing them gently. "I’ll be here, with Dean. If you feel ready to come back, you’ll know where to find us." You nodded slowly, taking in a shaky breath as you turned away, your feet carrying you toward the hallway. But as you walked, your steps faltered when you reached Dean’s door. The place that once felt like a refuge, where you and Dean would laugh, talk, and find solace in each other’s company. Now, it felt cold, distant, like something you couldn’t touch. But despite the overwhelming fear still gripping your chest, you needed to be there. You needed a piece of him, something to hold onto, even if it was just the remnants of the past.

With shaky hands, you pushed the door open, the familiar scent of Dean’s cologne filling the air. You didn’t bother to turn on the light. The dim glow from the hallway illuminated the room.

You walked in slowly, your legs weak beneath you as if the weight of everything was too much to carry. Your eyes glanced around at the cluttered room, the remnants of his life still scattered about: a jacket thrown over a chair, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the nightstand, a few books stacked haphazardly on the dresser. It all felt so wrong.

But you couldn’t stop. You needed this.

Without a word, you collapsed onto the bed, a cry escaping from your chest before you even realized it. The sound was raw, desperate, like a broken thing struggling to survive. You buried your face in the sheets, clinging to them as if they could hold you together. But the weight of it was too much.

The tears came once again—hard and unrelenting, flooding your face, soaking the bed beneath you. You couldn’t stop. You just couldn’t. The grief tore through you like a storm, leaving you empty and hollow. Every sob was a reminder that the man you loved was gone. Every gasp for air felt like it was being ripped from your lungs, suffocated by the weight of what had happened.

Dean wasn’t here anymore. Dean was gone, and all that was left was this twisted version, this monster wearing his face, mocking you. The pain was too much to bear. Your body shook violently as the sobs racked through you, each cry coming out like a wounded animal, a desperate plea to make it stop.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. How could everything go so wrong so quickly? How could someone you trusted with your whole heart become someone you were terrified of?

You curled up tighter on the bed, pressing your face deeper into the pillow, as if you could disappear into it, as if you could escape the crushing pain that consumed you.

You felt your body tremble with exhaustion, but you didn’t care. You didn’t know how long you lay there, your body wracked with sobs, lost in a fog of despair. Time had no meaning anymore. There was nothing but the endless ache, the never-ending stream of tears.

Eventually, exhaustion overtook you and you fell into deep nothingness.

Hours later, Sam walked through the door, his footsteps heavy, weighed down by the crushing reality of everything that had happened. He didn’t expect to find you here. But when he saw you, curled up on Dean’s bed, he stopped in his tracks.

The sight of you, so small and vulnerable sent a deep ache through him. It was as if you were seeking refuge in the last place where you felt safe, but now that place was empty—Dean was gone.

Sam’s breath hitched as he slowly walked toward you, trying to make himself as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb the fragile silence. The sight of you—so broken, so lost—was almost too much for him to bear.

He stood there for a long moment, watching you, but he didn’t want to disturb you. He knew how raw you were, and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Instead, he quietly moved to Dean’s dresser, pulling open the drawers, his eyes landing on old photos. There were pictures of the three of them—of Dean, Sam, and you—smiling, laughing, being a family. The images were so painfully full of life, so full of warmth, and now they felt like a cruel reminder of everything they had lost. Sam swallowed hard, his heart aching in his chest as he sat down on the edge of the bed, holding the photos in his hands, trying to cling to the reminder of who Dean really was.

As he adjusted his position, his knee brushed against you, and your eyes shot open. You jerked awake, panic immediately flooding your system. Your breathing hitched as you looked around, disoriented, your wild eyes landing on Sam.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s me,” Sam said gently, his voice calm and soothing as he saw the fear in your eyes. He reached out, his hand hovering near your leg. “It’s Sam. You’re okay, you’re safe.”

For a moment, you couldn’t process what was happening, where you were. Your heart racing with fear, but then you realized it was Sam.

"Sammy?" You whispered hoarsely, your voice cracking with the remnants of your tears. The moment you spoke, Sam’s expression softened, and his hand moved instinctively, rubbing your knee in a gentle motion.

"Yeah, I’m here," he replied softly, his voice full of that familiar warmth, but there was an undeniable pain beneath it. His thumb traced small circles on your knee, the touch meant to comfort, but you could feel his heart breaking, too.

You blinked, still trying to piece together what was happening, and finally asked, “What’s going on?” He slowly extended the photos toward you. You took them from him, your hands trembling as you looked down at the first picture. It was of the three of you—laughing around a campfire, Dean’s arm around you, Sam’s goofy grin plastered on his face. You ran your fingers over the edges of the photo, the memory of that day so vivid in your mind. “I remember this,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “We ended up by that campfire and it was perfect. I remember feeling so... free.”

Sam smiled faintly, his own gaze distant. “Yeah. We were just... being us. No monsters, no threats, no worry. Just us.”

“Just us,” you repeated, almost in disbelief, as if the simplicity of it was too much to hold onto.

Sam gave a soft chuckle, the memory clearly bringing him comfort, but the sadness in his eyes remained. “You kept teasing Dean because his marshmallows were burnt. You’d pretend to be all disgusted, but we both knew it was because you wanted his.”

A small, bitter laugh slipped from your lips, despite the overwhelming pain. You had forgotten about that. “You know me too well,” you murmured. “I always acted like I didn’t want anything to do with those burnt marshmallows, but I couldn’t resist them. Dean always made them with the perfect crisp.”

“You loved it,” Sam teased softly, a slight twinkle in his eye, though it didn’t quite reach the depth of his sadness.

You both fell into a moment of silence, the memories hanging between you like a fragile thread, so easily snapped by the weight of everything that had changed. Sam flipped through another photo, gently lifting another picture from the stack.

It was a candid shot, taken on a long drive. You were sleeping in the backseat of the Impala, curled up in the corner, your head resting against the window. Your hair was tousled, and you looked so peaceful, a soft expression on your face that spoke of all the exhaustion you’d been carrying.

Sam’s lips curled into a sad smile as he looked down at the picture. “You used to fall asleep so easily.”

You looked at the picture for a moment, the memory of that time rushing back. “I used to be able to sleep anywhere, didn’t I?” You said softly. “I’d fall asleep in the back of the car, on the floor of the motel room... anywhere. It didn’t matter, as long as you guys were there.”

Sam nodded, his eyes softening. “Yeah. And Dean would always make sure you were comfortable, even if it meant giving up his seat or letting you sleep in the front.”

Your throat tightened as you looked at the photo again, feeling the pang of longing for simpler days. "He always took care of me," you whispered, the words barely audible. "Even when things were rough, he made sure I was taken care of."

Sam’s expression darkened slightly, but he didn't say anything for a moment. He turned to the next photo, his fingers brushing over the surface, as if the memories were too much for words.

This one was from another time, a shot of the three of you standing in front of the Impala, the sun setting behind you, casting long shadows on the ground. You were all leaning casually against the car, smiles on your faces as you took a break after another long day. There was something about the photo that captured a moment of calmness, like you could take a breath and believe that everything would be okay.

“That was the summer we finally took a real break,” Sam murmured, almost to himself. “We didn’t have a hunt for a few weeks. Just… time together. I remember feeling like that moment could last forever.”

You smiled at the memory, but the happiness it brought was bittersweet. “We didn’t know how rare those moments would be. It’s like we thought we could escape it all, just for a little while.”

“And we did,” Sam said softly, his voice laced with a quiet sorrow. “Even if it was just for a moment, we were free. We were happy.”

You let out a long sigh, turning your attention to the next photo. It was a picture of the three of you standing by a creek, Sam holding up a fish he had caught. Dean was laughing, looking more carefree than you had seen in years. You were standing between them, holding a fishing rod in one hand, a playful grin on your face.

“We almost didn’t catch anything that day,” Sam chuckled, remembering. “But we didn’t care. It was just nice to be out there.”

You nodded, a soft, smirk on your lips. “We spent hours there and I was the only one that caught a fish.”

Sam let out a chuckle, his finger lingering on the edge of the photo. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You felt the familiar ache in your chest, but you weren’t sure if it was the memories or the overwhelming pain that had been gnawing at you for so long.

“I miss it,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I miss when we were all okay. When we weren’t broken.”

Sam gently put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. “We’re still here,” he said, his voice steady, though the pain was clear in his eyes. “And we’re going to get through this.”

You leaned into Sam's embrace, taking a deep breath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“I know we will,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “You’re not going to stop, Sam. You won’t stop until he’s back. And I won’t stop either. I’ll fight for him. For both of you. For our family.”

Sam looked down at you, his hand resting on your arm for a brief moment. The look in his eyes softened, but there was still a flicker of sadness there.

“You always know just what to say,” he murmured, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But then, it faltered, as if the weight of the situation caught up with him again. “I need to go give Dean more blood. Just... hang in there, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m going to flip through a few more photos and then I’m going to face him again. I’m ready, we’re going to get him back, Sammy.”

Sam gave you a long, searching look, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and pain. He squeezed your shoulder gently, his thumb brushing over your skin like he was trying to convey all the emotions he couldn’t put into words. “You’re stronger than you know,” he said softly, his voice cracking slightly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He let out a shaky breath, forcing a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He turned and walked out the door.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone with the photos, the memories, and the overwhelming determination to get your brother back.

You sat in the quiet room, the silence only broken by the soft rustle of photos as you flipped through them. Each one was a little piece of the past, and you couldn’t help but get lost in them, memories flooding back of moments when life felt simpler, when your family wasn’t shattered. You smiled softly at a few, some of you, Sam, and Dean as kids, others of the three of you laughing on the road. Dean’s arm was always around you, a silent protector.

But as time went on, the smiles faded, the weight of the present settling in. You flipped through more photos, trying to hold onto something, anything, to remind you that you hadn’t lost it all.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the bunker shifted.

The steady hum of the bunker’s lights flickered, and you froze, a chill crawling up your spine. The steady silence was broken by the shrill, jarring sound of the alarm. It was blaring through the entire place, and the lights flashed red, casting the entire room in an eerie glow. Your breath caught in your throat as the ground seemed to vibrate with urgency.

The bunker was on lockdown.

A feeling of dread washed over you, the panic rising as you glanced toward the door. You could hear the buzz of the alarm reverberating through the walls, a constant reminder that something was wrong. Something had happened, and you weren’t sure what.

You stood up, your heart pounding in your chest, the photos scattering around you as you rushed toward the door. The bunker had never gone on lockdown unless something major was going down—something serious.

And that’s when you realized. Whatever was happening, it was happening now.

Your mind raced with thoughts of Sam, of Dean, of everything that was slipping out of control. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to gather your thoughts, but the alarm kept ringing in your ears, pressing in on you.

Your thoughts spiraled as you heard the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps pounding down the hallway.

No. No, no.

The voice you dreaded pierced through the growing panic like a blade.

“Smart Sam!” Dean's voice echoed, rough and cold. “Put the bunker on lockdown!” His tone was sharp, filled with menace, and it only made your heart race faster, a deep, primal fear clawing at your chest. “I hope you have our sweet baby sister with you because if I find her first…” He trailed off chuckling darkly.

You froze, paralyzed by the sound, your mind scrambling for what to do. A pit of dread opened in your stomach.

The realization hit you all at once. Dean—demon Dean—was loose. The man you trusted, the man who practically raised you, was no longer the one who would protect you. He was the one you had to run from.

Panic rose in your throat as you rushed to make a decision. There was no time. He was close, and you could hear his mocking tone as he stomped down the hall, getting closer. In a moment of sheer instinct, you crouched low, hiding under his bed. You held your breath, praying he wouldn’t find you, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t look here.

The footsteps grew louder, and then—crash. The door to his room was flung open with a violent force. You flinched, pressing yourself further against the cool floorboards, your heart pounding so loudly you thought it might give you away. The door slammed against the wall, the sound reverberating through the bunker, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to stay silent.

Dean’s voice, dripping with dark amusement, broke the silence.

“Well, well, well…” His tone was twisted, mocking, like he was savoring the moment. "Looks like little sister has been rummaging through my stuff. I should've known you'd come crawling back here.”

You could hear him moving around the room, his footsteps heavy as he paced, no doubt seeing the scattered photos that littered the floor, the ones you had been looking through. The ones that meant so much to you. The memories of a time when Dean had been the brother you could count on. His laughter. His warmth. That was all gone now.

He snorted, his voice oozing with cruelty. “You really think you can hide from me, sweetheart?”

You felt every word like a punch to the gut. His presence was suffocating, and the room felt colder, darker with every word that came out of his mouth.

He paused, and for a split second, you thought he was going to leave. But then the sound of his heavy breathing grew louder, closer. He was right near the bed now.

"What's the matter?" His voice dropped lower, taunting. "Too scared to come out and face me, kiddo?"

Your chest tightened, each breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything but stay hidden, the weight of terror pinning you in place.

Then, you heard him bend down, the sound of his hands brushing against the floor. He was too close. The next thing you knew, you could feel his gaze on the edge of the bed, your pulse skyrocketing.

“I know you’re here,” Dean sneered, the sound of his voice creeping along your spine like ice.

A cruel chuckle escaped his lips, the sound as dark and chilling as the red lights flashing through the room. "I think you should come out, sweetheart. Come out and let me see that pretty little face of yours." His voice dripped with venom. "Come on, I promise I wont make you beg for death for too long.“

You fought the urge to scream, fighting every ounce of fear that racked your body. “I’ll be gentle and maybe make it a little quicker than I originally intended… maybe.” He taunted, before moving away from the bed completely.

Then the sound of his boots echoed out of the room and down the hallway. He chuckled darkly, the laughter booming off the walls. “Come out, come out, wherever you are, baby sis. I just wanna play. Don’t you miss your big brother?"

You heard the soft thump of his boots retreating further down the hall, the distant echo of his voice mocking you. Now’s your chance.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to focus, listening for his movements to die down. “Sammy! Once I find our sister—Oh! You’ll wish I never had.” He screamed down the hall. You jumped in fright from under the bed as the sound of his voice faded into the distance.

Finally, you heard the familiar creak of the floorboards in the hallway, followed by silence.

The coast had to be clear.

With a soft breath, you pushed yourself out from under the bed, crawling on your hands and knees, barely daring to make a sound. The darkness seemed to stretch around you as you moved towards the door, your heart hammering in your chest.

The hall was empty. You held your breath and moved quickly, praying he wouldn’t hear you. You had to find Sam and get the hell out of this nightmare. You turned the corner, heart pounding in your throat, the brief moment of freedom fading as you collided hard with Dean’s chest. The impact knocked you to the floor and the breath left your lungs. You looked up and was met with his cold dark eyes and subtle smirk which only grew more as you tried scrambling away from him on the floor. “No, no, no, no, no,” you whispered, your voice trembling in pure terror. That's when your eyes caught sight of the hammer in his hand—twirling slowly, almost gleefully, the cold metal gleaming in the dim light as he grinned down at you. “No! Dean, no, please!” You shrieked as you turned and clawed desperately at the floor to get away, your fingers scraping against the cold surface, each movement frantic, full of pure terror. Every inch you gained felt like a victory, but with each breath, you knew Dean was right behind you, enjoying your struggle. You needed to escape. You had to. As soon as you pulled yourself off the floor, you felt it.

A cold, iron grip closed around your ankle.

“NO!” You screamed, thrashing with a force you didn’t even know you had. You kicked, you twisted, you screamed—every muscle in your body locked in pure, unrelenting panic. Your heart raced as if it were about to tear itself from your chest, each shriek more frantic than the last.

Dean dragged you back, hard, and your body slammed into the floor with a sickening thud, the impact rattling your bones, the air knocked from your lungs in a painful gasp, and a horrible crack came from your head. The world around you spun for a moment, and then all that was left was the terror—him, his grip, his presence—everything closing in on you. You felt the cold floor against your cheek, felt your body slacken for a second, but it only fueled your panic more.

“Please, don’t! Please!” You screamed, your voice wild, hoarse, the sound of your cries raw and desperate. “Please don’t do it! Please—please, Dean, I’m begging you, please!” You tried to claw your way away again, but it was no use. Every time you moved, he was there, pulling you back, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. “Please, Dean! Sammy, help! Please, help me!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the bunker.

Dean’s laugh was low, dark, a twisted sound that sent ice running through your veins. “Sammy’s a little held up right now.” He smirked, knowing the trap he put Sam in so that he could get to you. The hammer glinted in his hand, a cold, mocking glimmer that reflected the red lights overhead. “It’s just you and me, kid. Well until Sammy sees your little body lying here lifeless. Oh, he’s going to be devastated when he finds you… well only until I also finish him off.” Your body trembled in terror as your gaze locked onto his weapon, and you could feel the world around you closing in tighter with each passing second.

“PLEASE, DEAN, DON’T—!” The scream ripped from your throat, echoing down the hallway like a cry for mercy, but there was no mercy. There was nothing but the chilling smile on his face as he stared down at you, that cruel gleam in his eyes, his hand tightening on your leg.

“You should’ve stayed hidden,” he said, his voice low, mocking, as if he was savoring every second of your terror. “You never learn, do you?”

You kicked again, harder this time, desperate, but his grip was unrelenting. Tears flooded your eyes, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. “No... no, please... no...” you pleaded, but your words were barely coherent through the sobs. The fear coursing through you was overwhelming, suffocating. Dean didn’t care. His grip tightened around you, and you winced, feeling the pressure like a vice. “Begging me won’t help you,” he spat, voice dripping with venom. “You think that’s gonna save you?” He dragged you roughly toward him, his lips curling into a grin that was nothing but pure malice. “You think crying is gonna get you out of this?” He breathed his hot breath on your face. You were shaking, your body locked in a full-body tremor of fear. Your head was spinning, your heart pounding, and with every breath, it felt as if you were sinking deeper into a nightmare you couldn’t escape. “No, please, please, Dean,” you whimpered, struggling against his hold. The more you begged, the more twisted Dean’s expression became, savoring every ounce of your fear. His hand shot out suddenly, grabbing the back of your head and slamming it down onto the floor with brutal force. Your vision blurred from the impact, pain radiating through your skull, but Dean only laughed—low and sick. His face got closer to you this time, "Don’t think for a second that you’re in control here," he snarled. The hammer twirled in his hand again, slow, deliberate. Each spin was a reminder of the power he had over you. You tried to move, to escape, but your body was shaking too violently, too weak to fight back. “S-s’mmy Please.” You managed to squeak out, but it was barely above a whisper. Dean leaned down over you, his grin wide and predatory. His voice was almost a purr now, but there was nothing sweet about it. "You think anyone cares? You think Sam cares? No... no, sweetheart. No one’s saving you." You screamed, your voice a raw shriek of pure terror as you thrashed beneath him. Dean’s grip loosened completely before you felt his hands wrap around your throat. He tightened them with a suffocating weight. Your breaths gasped as you hands slapped weakly against his chest. "Okay..." Dean whispered, drawing out the words like a dark lullaby, "Let’s see if you can beg now."

This was it. You were going to die. You were going to die at the hands of your brother. The man who always protected you and cared for you.

You stared into his cold eyes as you felt yours start to drift off. But, just before your world went completely dark, the crushing weight was lifted off of you. You turned over and sucked in a desperate breath when you felt hands on your shoulders. You cried out a horrific rasp, flinching away, but Sam’s soft voice cut through the haze. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. Its Sam. It’s Sammy. Look at me, okay? Please, just look at me.” His voice cracked, raw with worry, but there was urgency, a trembling desperation you had never heard before. You could barely lift your head. Every breath felt like it might be your last. You gasped, wheezed, every inhale tearing through your lungs, each one harder than the last.

“Can you breathe?” Sam’s tone was filled with panic as he cupped your face. He frantically scanned your face and saw the blood, the cuts, and the way your body trembled. His stomach twisted with a sickening feeling. His thumb wiped away the blood from your temple, but you could feel the tremble in his touch. “Hey, can you breathe?” He asked urgently in one last desperate plea for an answer.

You clutched at your chest, fighting for just one more breath. “S’mmy?” You managed to rasp, your vision blurred and unfocused.

"Yeah, baby, it’s me. It’s me, but I need you to breathe," Sam reassured you softly, cupping your face and lifting your chin up so you could have better access to your airways. “Breathe with me, okay? Slow, deep breaths, sweetheart. In... and out. You’re okay, just focus on me.”

Your body shook with the effort, your chest burning, the air too thin, but Sam’s voice—soft, insistent, like he couldn’t bear to see you struggle any longer—pushed you to focus. "In through your nose, baby, just like I’m doing, slow and deep. You can do this. You’re going to breathe. I need you to do this with me. Please."

You tried to follow his rhythm, desperate to calm the storm raging inside of you. Slowly, each breath came a little easier, though it felt like your body fought against every ounce of effort. You sucked in another shaky breath, and for the first time, you felt the pressure in your chest lift just a fraction. One breath. One more...

And then you heard it.

A scream. Raw. Full of agony. It echoed in your ears, tearing through the fragile calm Sam’s voice had built. You forced your eyes open and jolted up. You body exhumed the last bit of energy it had to see the scene before you which made your blood run cold.

Dean was locked in Castiel’s unyielding grip, his body thrashing violently against the angel’s strength. Cas’s hands were tight around Dean’s arms, dragging him away, his expression unreadable, but his hold relentless. Dean’s voice cracked, a mixture of rage and pain, as he screamed and grunted, trying to fight back with every ounce of strength. His feet scraped against the ground as he was dragged farther from you, but it was useless.

"Sam..." You barely whispered the word, the terror creeping back into your chest. Your heart lurched at the sight.

“No, no, no...” Sam’s voice trembled with panic, his grip tightening on you as if he were afraid you might shatter into pieces. He turned your face back to him, forcing you to focus. "Look at me, please. Focus on me. Don’t look at them."

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t look away from Dean. You could see the fight in his eyes, the desperation, the disbelief that Cas—Cas—was doing this. Dean’s face twisted with a mix of fury, his body jerking as he screamed for freedom, but nothing he did seemed to matter. The angel dragged him away, like he was nothing more than a ragdoll.

You let out a loud painful strangled sob that got caught in your throat.

“Hey!” Sam’s voice broke like glass, desperation thick in the air. His thumb brushed your cheek, but it was frantic, not soothing. “Look at me.” His words were raw, pleading, a cry in the storm. "I’m right here, it’s okay. You’re safe. Just breathe."

His voice cracked again, his words thick with fear, and you saw it—real fear in his eyes. Sam, always the strong one, always the rock, was unraveling, torn apart by the sight of you—of Dean—and there was nothing he could do.

Dean’s screams echoed in the background, and you felt the tremor in Sam’s hand as he held you, his entire body trembling with the weight of what was happening. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

You tried to focus on Sam. Just Sam. His face was so close now, eyes searching yours, lips moving in a desperate whisper. “You’re safe. You’re with me. I’m not leaving you. I’m so sorry.”

Each breath felt like it might be your last, but you tried, for Sam. You focused on him, on the sound of his voice, his presence anchoring you. Dean’s cries still echoed, but Sam was your anchor. Sam was all that mattered. And slowly, just slowly, your breath began to steady.

“Good girl,” Sam murmured softly, his voice thick with relief. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

He was practically holding you up so he gently guided your back to the wall so he could check you over. Your body felt broken, bruised, but Sam was there—strong, steady, never leaving your side.

His touch was tender, but there was an edge of urgency to it, as if he needed to make sure you were really here, really okay.

“Let me check your head,” Sam said softly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of a concussion. His fingers gently probed your skull, checking for bumps or bruises. You winced, a sharp gasp escaping you, as he touched the sensitive area at the back of your head. Sam’s eyes darkened with helpless fear.

"Sorry, sorry, baby, I know that hurts," he whispered, his voice thick with guilt. "But I have to check, I need to make sure you’re okay." His words were strained, his hand hovering over your head, checking for swelling, for damage.

The dull throb of your head making it harder to focus. “M’head... hurts,” you rasped, your voice barely audible.

“I know, sweetheart,” Sam whispered, his face tight with concern.

You tried to shift, to sit up more, but the pressure in your neck made your entire body scream in agony, and your hand instinctively shot up to your throat.

“No, don’t touch it, sweetheart.” Sam’s voice broke like glass, and you felt his hand gently pull yours away from your neck.

He was trying to keep you still, but you could feel the weight of his panic pushing against the calm he was trying to create. Sam’s hands were already covered in your blood, but he wasn’t hesitating. His fingers brushing against the swelling bruises. His breath caught as he saw the darkening marks, the deepening shade of purple and blue spreading over your throat. He pressed lightly, as gently as he could, but the discomfort in your eyes was enough for him to stop. His expression twisted with a mix of anger and worry, but his voice stayed soft, steady as he leaned in close to you.

"You’re swelling." His thumb brushed against your skin, his face pale with panic.

Your hand instinctively tried to reach for your neck again, but Sam’s grip on your wrist was firm. "No, no, please don’t touch it," he pleaded as his mind raced on what to do next.

Everything hurt. Every inch of your body felt bruised, torn, like you’d been beaten to the edge of your life. Your face was covered in blood, your head was throbbing with every heartbeat, and your neck—your neck felt like it was on fire, swollen and tender beneath your touch. You couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped your chest.

Sam’s hands were shaking as he carefully wiped away the blood from your face. His touch was tender, but there was an edge to it, the frantic urgency of someone who couldn’t bear to see you in pain, couldn’t bear how fragile you looked in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” Sam murmured, his voice low and full of sorrow. "I’m so sorry... I just need to make sure you’re okay. Just a little more, okay?"

He slowly ran his hands over your face, carefully checking the cuts, making sure none of the injuries were too deep. The blood kept flowing, soaking into his fingers, and you could see the horror in his eyes as he noticed how much you were losing.

“Okay, you’re okay. You’re okay. Everything’s going to be alright.” His words were ragged, like they were being pulled out of him like he didn’t believe a word he was saying, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let you know how bad it really was.

You noticed the way his body was rigid, like he was fighting to hold it together. His face was strained, his jaw tight, but he wasn’t letting up.

“You’re strong,” Sam whispered to you, his voice thick with emotion. "You’re so strong. Just breathe, baby. Please, just breathe for me."

His hand finally pressed against the back of your neck, gently massaging the swelling to ease the pain, but you could hear the terror in his voice. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Sam whispered again, his lips close to your ear. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to make it through this.”

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, trying to hold it together for you. But, he’d never seen you like this, broken and bruised, the light in your eyes dimmed by the trauma you’d endured at the hands of someone you loved. His protective instincts screamed in agony, but there was nothing more he could do here. His mind was already racing, searching for any possible way to make things right. Maybe Cas could help.

“I need to grab Cas, alright? Just hold on, I’m coming right back,” Sam said, his voice strained as he quickly got up. The panic clear in his eyes and his movements frantic.

You nodded weakly, barely able to keep your eyes open as exhaustion weighed down on you like a heavy blanket. Just before Sam turned his gaze from you, he noticed them threatening to close. “Hey, no! I need you to keep your eyes open for me, okay?!” He pleaded. You widened your eyes and nodded. “I’ll be two seconds don’t you dare close them!” He shouted as he practically ran down the hallway to where Cas was restraining Dean. Cas walked away from Dean, his eyes locked eyes on Sam’s disheveled presence. “How is she Sam?” He asked, worriedly. Sam breathed out speaking low enough so Dean couldn’t hear, but urgently enough for Cas to understand the extent of it. “She’s in bad shape, Cas. I don’t know what to do. He—he choked her and beat her pretty badly. I just... I need you.” Sam pleaded and Cas nodded. “I’m still not at my full grace. I can help a little bit, ease the pain, but she will need to rest to make a full recovery.” He said, his expression as serious as ever. Without wasting a second, they made their way back towards you, Sam trailing behind Cas. Your eyes were still open, struggling to focus, as Cas knelt beside you. His fingers brushed gently over your bruised neck as he carefully examined the damage.

"Cas?" You whimpered, your voice weak and trembling.

“Yes, it’s me,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. His grace swirled around you, and for the first time since everything had happened, you felt a small bit of relief. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stop the constant pounding in your head.

You felt a warm energy washing over you, a peace settling deep within. The swelling in your neck began to subside, and the pain that had been gnawing at your body seemed to dull a little with each passing moment.

Sam stood off to the side, watching with wide eyes, a mixture of awe and desperation flickering across his face. Cas' healing grace was a blessing, but Sam knew that no matter how much healing Cas could provide, the mental and emotional scars would remain far longer.

After a few minutes, Cas pulled back, his brow furrowed in concern. “You should feel a little better. Rest, you’ll still need time to fully recover.”

Sam gave a silent nod of thanks to the angel, his eyes never leaving you. “Thank you, Cas,” he said quietly.

As Cas nodded in acknowledgment, you clung to his arm, your grip tightening slightly as you looked up at him. “Thank you, Cas. For everything.” He sent you a sad smile, his eyes full of empathy, knowing you were still trembling in fear, but unable to do anything about the mental scars you now carried.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured you softly. You nodded, fully believing the angel’s words, trusting in the comfort he had given you.

The silence stretched on for a moment, but the tension in the air was palpable. Sam shifted uneasily, glancing at you, then at Cas. “Cas, about Dean…” Sam trailed off, his voice tight, unsure of how to continue. His eyes flicked back to you, concern flickering there before he spoke again. “How is he?”

Cas took a slow breath, his expression softening with the weight of the situation. “He’s restrained for now. I believe the cure will work, Sam. We just need time.”

The mention of Dean sent a jolt of tension through your body, and you instinctively shrank back slightly, the thought of Dean still being lost in the grip of the demon unsettling you more than you expected. Sam noticed, his eyes softening with a silent promise to protect you.

“You okay?” Sam asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He crouched beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder in reassurance.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The emotions swirling inside of you were overwhelming, but you couldn’t bear to let them out now, not in front of them.

Sam gave you a reassuring nod, though his worry never fully left his face. “I’m gonna take care of you. You need to get some rest, okay?” He paused, glancing toward Cas. “I’ll be there with you in a second Cas just let me get her cleaned up and in bed first.”

Cas nodded and filled with the quiet certainty that only he could offer. “Rest now Y/N. We will do everything we can for Dean.”

Sam gave a small, appreciative nod to Cas as he left the room, then Sam turned back to you.

His hand was now on your shoulder, supporting you. “How are you feeling now?” He asked softly.

“I’m... better,” you whispered, though your voice was strained, hoarse from everything you’d been through.

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek. “Come on,” Sam said softly, his voice as gentle as he could make it. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You nodded, the exhaustion written all over your face. You weren’t sure you had the strength to do it on your own, but Sam was there, steady and unwavering, as he guided you toward the bathroom. His hand was warm against your back, supportive, but his touch was careful, mindful of your pain.

When you reached the bathroom, Sam opened the door and flipped the light on, the soft hum of the fluorescent light filling the silence. He stood there for a moment, watching you as if making sure you were okay, that you weren’t about to collapse. Then, with a quiet sigh, he moved to the shower.

“I’ll run the water for you,” he said quietly, adjusting the temperature, his fingers nimble as they twisted the faucet. “Just... take your time, alright? I’ll be right outside the door.”

You were so tired, so worn down, but Sam’s presence was a small comfort. It gave you the strength to move forward. He grabbed a towel from the linen closet and placed it on the counter, then found a pair of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt. They were oversized, but they would fit. He folded them carefully and set them next to the towel.

“Here you go,” Sam said, his voice softer now. “I’ll leave them right here for you.”

He hesitated, his eyes searching your face for any sign that you might be okay. The last thing he wanted was to leave you alone when you were so fragile. But you needed this time to yourself. To breathe.

“I’ll be right outside. Just call for me if you need anything,” Sam added, his voice tinged with that protective tone he always used, the one that made you feel safe, no matter what.

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes, your throat tight from the raw emotions still swirling inside you. “Thank you, Sam,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

He offered a soft, strained smile, his hand lingering on the door handle for a moment. “Of course,” he said simply, his eyes filled with a mix of love and concern. “You’re gonna be okay. I’ll be right here.”

Sam stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. You leaned against the counter for a moment, the weight of everything crashing down on you. It was hard to feel anything other than exhaustion, but Sam had been your anchor through it all, and his care meant more than you could express.

As the warm water began to fill the shower, you let the steam rise around you, trying to relax under the heat, to wash away the lingering fear and pain. You allowed yourself to just exist for a few moments, letting the warmth seep into your aching muscles. Slowly, you scrubbed away the tension, the weariness in your bones easing with every pass of the washcloth. It was hard to shake off the heaviness, but the heat and solitude were helping. Just a little.

After a few minutes, you reluctantly turned off the water, the sudden silence hitting you as the last of the steam dissipated. You stepped out, wrapping yourself in the towel Sam had left out for you. It was soft, warm against your skin, and the faint scent of his soap lingered on it, a reminder of his presence just beyond the door.

You eyed the oversized clothes Sam had left on the counter. The sweatshirt and sweatpants looked almost comical, the sleeves and legs hanging far past your fingertips and ankles. But they felt like a small piece of him, like a shield, so you slipped them on, pulling them as tight around you as you could, trying to feel something resembling comfort in the vastness of his clothes. You tugged at the sleeves, trying to bury your hands in them as you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way toward the door, the clothes swallowing you in a way that somehow made you feel safe. Your heart ached, but there was something calming in the way they felt. Like Sam was still here, protecting you even when he wasn’t right beside you.

As you opened the bathroom door, Sam was standing just outside, his eyes immediately locking onto you as you walked out. His gaze softened as he took in the sight of you in his clothes, looking so fragile and small under the fabric. You caught a flash of concern cross his face, but he quickly masked it with a gentle smile. He stepped forward, his arms instinctively reaching out as if to steady you.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice tinged with worry as he glanced down at the oversized sweatshirt and sweatpants you were swathed in.

You nodded, offering a weak smile. “I’m... okay. Just... trying to get comfortable, I guess.”

Sam’s eyes softened even further, and he gently cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your skin in a comforting, soothing motion. "Let's get you some rest, alright?" His voice was warm, offering you a sense of reassurance. As Sam guided you gently through the hallway, his hand resting lightly on your back, you stopped, a sudden surge of uncertainty washing over you. You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice barely a whisper, “Sam… can I… can I sleep in your room instead?”

Sam froze, glancing over at you with a soft expression that was all tenderness. He could tell you needed something more right now—something beyond just the comfort of the bed in your own room. He stepped closer to you, his face softening, the concern in his eyes deepening. Without a second thought, he smiled gently, his hand brushing against your arm as he nodded.

"Of course, Bug," he said, the nickname slipping out naturally, carrying with it all the warmth he felt for you. “Let’s get you settled in my room.”

He led you to his room, his hand remaining steady at your back as you walked. The space felt different with him in it, cozier, comforting in a way that only Sam’s presence could make it. He pulled back the covers, making sure everything was just right for you.

Once you were comfortably nestled in, he adjusted the pillows around you, making sure you were warm and relaxed. He pulled the blanket up around you, his hand lingering on your shoulder as he gently tucked it in.

“You’re safe here,” Sam murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Just call me if you need anything.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your exhaustion settle in as you sank deeper into the softness of his bed. He sat down beside you for a moment, brushing a strand of hair from your face. As he stood up to leave, the darkness pulled you under.

You woke with a start, your heart racing in your chest as the soft light from the hallway trickled in. The bed felt familiar, warm, but something was off. You blinked, still disoriented from the deep sleep, and when your eyes focused, you froze.

Standing in the doorway, framed by the dim light, was Dean.

For a split second, all you could do was stare, your breath caught in your throat. A wave of panic rushed through you like an electric shock. No. No, not again.

The terror flooded you faster than you could process, your body reacting before your mind could catch up.

“No!” you screamed, your voice breaking. “No, please, no!” The words tumbled from your lips in frantic terror, your body jerking as you scrambled to get away from him.

The sheets tangled around your legs, tripping you up, making you feel more trapped. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You had to get away. You had to get away.

“Please! No, please, no!” You cried, pushing at the bed with shaky hands, trying to free yourself from the blankets that held you down, but they only made you feel more ensnared. Panic surged through your chest as you pushed harder, desperate, but in your frantic attempt to escape, you didn't realize how close you were to the edge.

And then, you lost balance.

With a gut wrenching scream, you tumbled backward, crashing to the floor with a sickening thud, your body tangled in the blankets, your heart thumping in your throat. The impact made everything spin. Your mind was a blur of terror, the only thing you knew was that you had to get away.

You scrambled on the floor, your limbs moving in every direction, hands pressing against the cold wood, trying to push yourself backward into the corner of the room. You couldn’t stop screaming, couldn’t stop the overwhelming terror. Your back slammed into the wall as you tried to put more distance between yourself and the figure in the doorway.

Dean stood there, unmoving, a pained expression on his face. His hands were raised, palms out, as if to show he meant no harm. But you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t see past the fear and the memories of him that haunted you.

“Y/N, please!” Dean’s voice cracked with desperation, his tone softer, but it didn’t reach you. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s really me. I’m not a demon anymore. Please…”

But your screams continued, echoing through the room, drowning out everything he was trying to say.

Then the door slammed open.

Sam.

His face was a mix of horror and frantic concern as he rushed in. “Dean, what the hell?” Sam’s voice was sharp, filled with panic. “She’s not ready for this!”

You didn’t hear Sam, didn’t see anything but the man standing in the doorway. You were still scrabbling against the floor, shaking, screaming, begging for him to leave, to not hurt you.

Dean hesitated, clearly struggling with what to do. “I’m sorry, Sam... I didn’t think she was going to wake up yet. I just had to check on her…” His voice faltered. “I didn’t want to—”

“No!” you screamed again, your voice hoarse, panic coursing through every fiber of your being. “Please, no!”

Sam moved toward you, kneeling in front of you, his hands reaching out to gently hold your shoulders. You flinched away from him, still lost in your fear, unable to focus on anything but the threat in the doorway.

“Y/N, please,” Sam said, his voice frantic. He was trying to calm you, trying to reach you, but his words barely made it through the haze of panic. “Listen to me. Listen. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. Dean’s not a demon anymore!”

Your eyes remained fixed on Dean. Your breaths were shallow, gasping for air, but you couldn’t hear Sam. You couldn’t focus on anything but the terror that clawed at you.

“Please! No! No, I can’t—I can’t—” You were barely coherent, your voice raw, still scrambling away, shaking, terrified.

Sam’s own panic intensified as he looked at Dean, his voice sharp with frustration and urgency. “Dean, leave! Now!”

Dean’s face fell, the regret and pain washing over him, but he backed away, slowly, giving you space. “I—I’m sorry.” Before he rushed out the door.

You continued to shake, your chest heaving, the sound of your breath almost deafening in the room. Your hands gripped the floor, trying to steady yourself, to breathe. Slowly, Sam turned back to you, his hands gentle but firm as he held your arms, trying to pull you out of the panic.

“Y/N,” Sam said, his voice softer now but still filled with urgency, “I need you to listen to me. Look at me, please.” He begged and forced you to meet his eyes. “Dean’s cured. He’s not a demon. He’s Dean. You’re safe, okay? You’re safe. It’s over.”

The words finally hit you. "W-what?" You whispered, your heart pounding, struggling to grasp the magnitude of what Sam was telling you.

“He’s cured, Y/N.” Sam repeated, his hands moving to gently pull you into his arms, holding you close as you continued to shake. Your breath caught in your throat. "Are- are you sure? R-Really, Sam?" Your hands trembled as they clung to his shirt.

"Yes," Sam affirmed softly, his voice steady. "It’s over. We did it. He’s cured. Dean’s back. It’s really him."

Relief hit you like a tidal wave, overwhelming and sudden. You could hardly breathe through it, but you collapsed into Sam’s arms, all the tension in your body finally unraveling. “Oh my God!” You cried out in pure relief. Your hands gripped him tight, clutching onto him as if you might float away.

"Thank you, Sam," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Thank you for being strong enough to fix him. To do this... You saved us."

Sam wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, resting his cheek on your head. "We did it together," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "You never gave up on him, Y/N. You were right there, with me. We made it through."

You nodded against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. "Thank you," you repeated, barely able to hold the words together. "Thank you." You took a deep breath, your fingers clutching Sam's shirt as you pulled away slightly. You could feel the heaviness of the moment hanging in the air between you both. The fear, the confusion... it was still there, but something else was creeping in. Hope. Slowly, steadily, but it was there.

“Sam,” you said softly, your voice wavering a bit, “I’m ready. I want to see him. I need to.”

Sam looked at you for a moment, concern still flickering in his eyes. “Are you sure, Y/N? I don’t want you to—”

“I’m sure,” you interrupted, the words heavy with everything you had been holding back. “I need to see him. Please.”

Sam hesitated, but he gave a gentle nod and helped you to your feet. His hand lingered on your back as you walked toward Dean’s room, a comforting presence you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from. But when you reached the door, you hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the tiniest bit of fear as you turned the doorknob. Sam gave you a soft smile of encouragement before he walked away to give you both a moment he knew you both needed.

Inside, you saw Dean sitting on the bed, flipping through the stack of old photos you were looking at earlier, his expression distant. He looked so normal, so much like the brother you remembered. But as soon as he heard you, his head snapped up, his eyes widening when they met yours.

“De?” you said, your voice almost a whisper.

Dean froze, his body tense. His face was pale, but his eyes were filled with pain. In an instant, the guilt in his eyes was almost unbearable, and when he stood up abruptly, you couldn’t help but flinch back, the reflex built from everything that had happened.

He saw it, the fear still lingering in your eyes, and his face crumpled in regret.

“I’m so sorry, kid,” he said hoarsely, taking a step toward you, but still keeping his distance, his hands shaking. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I never—”

Your eyes flickered down to the photos in his hands, the same ones you had been flipping through earlier. The memories of the real Dean—the brother who’d always loved you, who’d always been there to protect you, the one who’d never hurt you.

You swallowed thickly, a lump in your throat. With a shaky breath, you took a step forward, pushing past the lingering fear, your voice soft but firm. “It’s not your fault, Dean,” you said, your eyes meeting his. “I know the real you. The one in these photos,” you pointed to the pictures in his hands, “the brother I grew up with, the one who protected me. That Dean would never hurt me. That Dean would never do what... demon Dean did to me.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, every ounce of your emotion spilling out in that one moment. “You’re you, Dean. You’re cured. I know you. And that’s all that matters. You’re back. You’re really back.”

Dean’s breath hitched, his eyes filling with tears as he took a slow, shaky step toward you, his voice trembling. “Y/N…” His voice was thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry,” Dean choked out, his voice thick with grief. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to scare you... God, I never wanted to be that thing.” Tears blurred your vision as you stepped into Dean's embrace, your arms wrapping around him tightly. His scent, so familiar, was a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. You pressed your face into his chest, letting the sobs wrack through your body as the weight of everything fell on you. He held you just as tightly, his hands coming up to rest gently on the back of your head, his thumb brushing over your hair as if trying to soothe you. His breath was shaky, his chest rising and falling unevenly as his face pressed against the top of your head.

You could feel his tears wetting your hair as he buried his face against your shoulder, his whole body trembling as well. His tears now mixing with yours. You clung to him, your hands gripping his jacket as you whispered between sobs.

“I’m so glad you’re back, De. I’m so glad you’re here,” you whispered, barely able to speak through your tears. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I thought I lost you...”

Dean held you tighter, his voice cracking as he spoke. “You didn’t lose me. I swear, I’ll make it right. I’ll spend every damn day proving that I’m here, that I’m not that thing anymore.”

You shook your head, still clinging to him. “You don’t have to prove anything. You’re back. You’re my brother. I know who you are. That’s all that matters. It’s over now. You’re really back.”

Dean didn’t say anything at first, just held you tighter, both of you surrounded by the warmth of the other’s embrace. The years of fear and pain were slowly being replaced by the quiet, overwhelming relief that, no matter what, you had your brother again. The real Dean.

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sukugoglazer · 6 months ago

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pt. 1 pt. 2

note: yay tiny text from now on!!! (unless it makes it too hard to read, lmk). no gay sex here…. unfortunately but next part, trust

snowleopard!gojo is oblivious to the fact tigerhybrid!sukuna is trying to court him.

tigerhybrid!sukuna tries the ‘traditional’ way, or whatever he’s seen humans do. which includes bringing snowleopard!gojo a ton of gifts; flowers, random trinkets the humans drop in the enclosure by accident— or on purpose because some humans are cruel and like to throw things at the hybrids…

it pisses tigerhybrid!sukuna off and he gets to the glass to bare his fangs and roar as loud as he can. the guests scatter like bugs in fear, and the sukuna puffs out his chest with pride. he also brings gojo his food and insists that the snow leopard eat it.

snowleopard!gojo is still confused but reluctantly eats it. tigerhybrid!sukuna is very pleased about providing for his mate. (who is actually not his mate yet because gojo is still oblivious)

tigerhybrid!sukuna never shares his space with anyone else, at least not his personal space. but he shares his rock (the one where sunlight directly hits it and it’s incredibly warm and tigers like sunbathing. he might’ve also fought the other tigers over this…) with snowleopard!gojo.

snowleopard!gojo prefers his cold, snowy den but he accepts the offer anyways and tigerhybrid!sukuna leans against him when they share the rock.

“I must have special privileges or something if you’re letting me be this close to you without snapping.”

tigerhybrid!sukuna is tired of trying to make it as obvious as possible for gojo because he never learns. so at somepoint he tries (and fails) to mount snowleopard!gojo. in front of everyone. yeah…. that’s when he gets the memo.

snowleopard!gojo almost doesn’t have the willpower to stop him because his brain short-circuited and he’s a blushing mess. but he pulls himself together and pulls away from tigerhybrid!sukuna who had been about to sink his teeth into the poor snowleopards shoulder between his neck and shoulder blade.

tigerhybrid!sukuna huffs with irritation when snowleopard!gojo retreats back to his den, and despite how much he hates how cold it is up there, he follows gojo.

snowleopard!gojo is still trying to process the fact tigerhybrid!sukuna is trying to court him. It makes him feel giddy even though he wanted to deny it. he only gets snapped out of his thoughts when he hears the others voice.

“Why are you runnin’ away from me, pretty?”

“I’m not mating with you in front of all those hybrids. That’s embarrassing!!”

tigerhybrid!sukuna just snorts with amusement at that, purring and coming close to press himself against the smaller hybrid. he has a wide grin on his face, his pearly white fangs glinting.

“So? Who gives a fuck? Let them watch. You’re mine.”

snowleopard!gojo tries to say something but tigerhybrid!sukuna is already biting and kissing whatever skin he could reach. and of course snowleopard!gojo is very vocal— no way the others weren’t going to hear them. that’s exactly what the tiger wants.

tigerhybrid!sukuna hates the scent of other hybrids on snowleopard!gojo— good thing he’s going to fix it by stuffing him full of his cock and breeding him.

tigerhybrid!sukuna couldn’t believe snowleopard!gojo was such a slut, letting those other hybrids cling to him and touch him. well, he wasn’t having any of it— not anymore.

tigerhybrid!sukuna doesn’t realize he’s digging his claws harshly into snowleopard!gojos skin, leaving nasty red marks and maybe accidentally making him bleed a bit…

“Ow!—“

It doesn’t matter.

tigerhybrid!sukuna is manhandling snowleopard!gojo and shoving his face into the soft bedding of his nest. one of his big hands is pressing down on the back of gojos head, gripping his snowy white hair— while the other is gripping his thigh and spreading his legs open.

#🜲 sukugoglazer.txt #sukugo #gosuku #I transferred the smut part into another post #because it was glitching this one out 🗿#snowleopard!gojo #tigerhybrid!sukuna

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livmightlive · 5 months ago

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Chain as Mitski Songs

Mitski Chain

I have a really bad habit that I’m trying to break 😭 Mitski is one of my all time favorite artists but… I made a really bad habit over time of listening to her music when I have felt my absolute worst 😮‍💨 Even thought I love her music so much I struggle to listen to it when I’m in a good mood because it tends to launch me back to the REALLY bad times I let myself listen to her. Like, in sake of my mental health I’ve had to lowkey ban her for myself

Soooo… I’m trying to slowly ease myself back into her music by trying to associate her with other things than my own struggles 😤

So here’s the chain as Mitski songs! And a lyric from the song that particularly stood out to me for the guy

(Honestly, I think any Mitski song can kind of be applied to any of the chain but this is just my mood for tonite)

Legend - My Love Mine All Mine

‘Nothing in the world belongs to me

But my love, mine, all mine, all mine’

Mitski - My Love Mine All Mine (Official Lyric Video)YouTube · MitskiVEVOSep 15, 2023

Twilight - Happy

‘And if you're going, take the moon

Then, maybe I will see you; in the night, I'll see you

And when you go, take this heart

I'll make no more use of it when there's no more you’

(I was tempted to do Losing Dogs sorry twi)

Mitski - Happy (Official Video)YouTube · MitskiVEVOMay 23, 2016

Sky - Star

‘That love is like a star, it's gone

We just see it shining

It's traveled very far, I'll

Keep a leftover light burning

So you can keep looking up’

Mitski - Star (Official Lyric Video)YouTube · MitskiAug 23, 2023

Wild - Goodbye my Danish Sweetheart

‘And I don't blame you

If you want to bury me in your memory

I'm not the girl I ought to be, but

Maybe when you tell your friends

You can tell them what you saw in me

And not the way I am’

Mitski - Goodbye, My Danish Sweetheart (Official Video)YouTube · MitskiJun 24, 2013

Hyrule - The Frost

‘The frost, it looks

Like dust settled on the world

After everyone's long been gone

But me, I was hidin'

Or forgotten, the only one left

Now the world is mine alone’

Mitski - The Frost (Official Lyric Video)YouTube · MitskiVEVOSep 15, 2023

Time - A Pearl

‘You’re growing tired of me

And all the things I don’t talk about’

Mitski - A Pearl (Official Video)YouTube · MitskiJan 31, 2019

Wind - Bug Like an Angel

‘When I'm bent over, wishin' it was over

Makin' all variety of vows I'll never keep

I try to remember the wrath of the devil

Was also given him by God’

Mitski - Bug Like an Angel (Official Lyric Video)YouTube · MitskiAug 3, 2023

Wars - Burning Hill

‘And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it’

Mitski - A Burning Hill (Official Video)YouTube · MitskiVEVOOct 11, 2016

Four - Francis Forever

‘I don't need the world to see

That I've been the best I can be, but

I don't think I could stand to be

Where you don't see me’

Mitski - Francis Forever (Official Audio)YouTube · MitskiJun 17, 2023

Anywho, pls lmk what you think if you have any thoughts or arguments! (ughhh I’m sorry the layout is janky 😭 I wrote this in my notes app and it did not copy over well and won’t let itself be fixed)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu chain #lu hyrule #lu four #lu legend #lu time #lu warriors #lu wild #lu sky #lu twilight #lu wind #mitski

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fictionalsownme · 10 months ago

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More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream.

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave.

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door.

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first.

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season.

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him…

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons.

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so.

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different.

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!”

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?”

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.”

Thought so? Maybe you did know him…

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you?

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?”

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers.

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s.

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ��alright’ sound, and turned away.

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together.

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice.

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…”

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling.

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him.

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm.

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice.

“Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that.

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

“That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile.

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered.

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“What a wonderful idea…”

God, his eyes…

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.”

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.”

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone. Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

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jumpy-buggy-33 · 10 months ago

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🌸💫⭐️🪷LMK HEADCANONS🪷⭐️💫🌸

(Had to freaking redo this bc tumblr didn’t save my draft >:[[ )

Redson(Hong Hai’er) Headcanons!!

-loves cats with every fiber of his being

-HATE HATE HATE HATE HATES water!!

-hair turns brown when it’s wet, like fire extinguishing sorta

-touch starved asf bull demon thing(bro has got 320+ years on his ass of absolutely no affectionate touch)

-has a small appetite and the highest alcohol tolerance you will ever see(got both traits from his mother)(he doesn’t drink much though of course)

-loves being pet, please pet him on your way out😼

-loves mechanics/engineering

-if you start even mentioning mechanics/engineering, he will beam at you with stars in his eyes and WILL ramble in DETAIL if you ask them a question about it or how something worked(things like that)

-clingy asf if you even touch them a little

-loves his hair, just hates how bothersome it is sometimes

-has soft/fluffy tail fur/fur/hair(depending on how one would draw him or anything like that)

-will eat the spiciest things on earth like it’s just a pack of mints or tic tacs

-gossips with his mother

-will DEFINITELY ramble if you ask him about an invention he’s working on/making

-acts like he doesn’t care much for people but secretly cares so much that they kinda forget to care about themself a lot

-stays up to atrocious times and STILL managed to wake up every day at 5:25

-has HORRIBLE vision bc the Samadhi Fire damaged their vision badly when they were a child/temporarily blinded them

-doesn’t like having nothing to do+constantly loads themself with things to do, errands to run

-HORRIBLE at parties/formal events

-has a habit of biting his lip when in deep thought or focus

-often tries to handle things themself+doesn’t like asking for help

-flusters easily

MK(Qi Xiaotian) Headcanons!!

-sleeps with his monkey plush at night

-doodles on himself when he’s bored at work

-unmedicated ADHD

-SSSSUUUUUUUUUPEEEERRRRR affectionate(will cuddle anyone who needs it, you need one?)

-LOVESSS pineapple!!

-likes listening to music when he’s drawing or working

-artist+has 17 sketchbooks in a box besides his desk

-always loses arcade games when put up against Mei

-surprisingly a AMAZING cook, sucks at baking tho

-loves playing with people’s hair(sorta like monkey grooming?)

-has binged Monkey Cop 16 times and will never stop

-acts like a little kid whenever he sees people kissing on tv

-has a tendency to try and fix all his problems himself because he doesn’t want to ‘burden’ his friends

-BROKE ASF

-keeps instant noodles in a secret cabinet in his apartment, hiding them from Pigsy

Mei(Long Xiaojiao) Headcanons!!

-knows some mechanics, but often asks Redson for help

-absolute master at video games

-definitely ate bugs as a kid and got sick because of it

-wants a lizard or something but her parents will NOT let her

-often likes to gossip with MK

-super chill about cuddles

-loves eating dragonfruit(though..sometimes she eats it with the skin..)

-has a bunch of trophies in a box from all the races she’s won

-loves pranks

-also sleeps with her dragon plushie

-will make fun of MK or Redson for being fruity even though she’s pretty fruity😼

-steals Redson’s glasses a lot just to entertain herself when he rams into poles or falls trying to get her(or even yelling at walls)

-likes doing Redson’s hair(but he rarely lets her do it)

-knows a whole bunch about bugs(origins, scientific names, etc)

Nezha Headcanons!!

-secretly loves cats

-will make flower crowns for someone if asked

-has known Redson since he was a baby and often talks with him(they gossip together, complain about people, all that)

-sarcasm is definitely his second language

-amazing at making origami

(There’s not a lot for my boy😭🪷)

Monkey King(Sun Wukong) Headcanons!!

-has a habit of talking to himself both from the years he was alone and trapped in the furnace((I can’t remember exactly what happened about the furnace so please bear with me🥲))

-snores loud asf and often scares the monkeys away

-secretly likes singing and sings well, but terrified of doing it in front of people

-often thinks about things he regrets

-a lil touch starved :,)

-smells like peaches

Macaque(Li’uer Mihou) Headcanons!!

-touch starved monkey dude 😢

-flinches whenever someone gets close of his right

-the monkeys on FFM(Flower Fruit Mountain) often like sleeping with him, basically drowning him in monkey

-often summons Rumble or Savage(or both) to talk to(though, they’re not very good company)

-loves mangos

-likes just sitting at a quiet pond at night, its quiet and peaceful and it doesn’t hurt his ears

-his fur is always so soft because the monkeys groom it a lot

Yeah that’s kinda it….FOR NOW-

Anyway have art😼

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lcvemiyuki · 1 year ago

Note

hello!!! could i be 🌟 anon? your blog is so aesthetic :3 love the theme!!! i would like to request a matchup please !

- INTP, taurus sun

- likes: cats, sweets, museums, the rain

- dislikes: bugs, hot weather, crowds

- personality: i've been described as bubbly and charming . . . i try to be helpful and open-minded, but i think i come off as awkward and possibly endearing in the process. i'm very cold when i'm angry, and i'm passionate and vocal about my beliefs!

- hobbies/interests: playing the piano and cello, stardew valley, tennis, sewing, and trying new restaurants

- love language: receiving includes acts of service and quality time. giving includes gifts and acts of service.

- ideal type is someone tall, attentive, and caring. loyal and smart. bonus if they have cute quirks!

- appearance is 165 cm, with long, dark hair in a hime cut. likes wearing baggy clothes, button-downs, and black jeans.

- other things include . . . kind of a neat freak? lots of random facts memorized . . . almost always listening to music

lastly, i'm not a writing blog, but i do know quite a lot about haikyuu!! characters (and other media) . . . if you'd like to do a matchup exchange, lmk!!! thank you, and have a nice day :>

a/n: hi 🌟 anon!! im so sorry this took so long...i hope you like it! also i would love to do an exchange, we can talk more about it in my msgs if you're okay with that :)

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

a message in a bottle washes ashore with your name written in bold...

𓇢𓆸 "🌟" anon your match is. . .

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

keiji akaashi!

𓇼 akaashi is a calm and attentive person with a touch of coolness. your charming personality would soon rub off on him!

𓇼 akaashi is such an intellectual; a meet up from a museum is bound to happen

𓇼 it’s like fate brings you guys together every time…whether it be music or literature, the universe has a funny way of bringing people together

𓇼 your awkward charm and efforts to be helpful and open-minded would catch his attention the most!

𓇼 akaashi is observant and reserved, he loves your style and the impression of it makes him all nervous. you look so cool

𓇼 i think it would be kind of awkward at first, it’s inevitable, but slowly moving in to topics about each others interests would create a comfortable space for the both of you

𓇼 he’d find you quite cute with random facts you can voice at any time and enjoys discussing with you all about them

𓇼 dates are all about seeking comfort and solace in each other! he loves to spend quiet afternoons with you

𓇼 rainy days in are especially a favorite for you two—cuddling on the couch as he reads a book with you. he has a whole recommendation list of books for you to read. this would be because he think you'll like them or it simply reminded him of you :)

𓇼he could go from sunrise to sunset talking to you if he could

𓇼 although he doesn't show it, there are signs he gets nervous around you.

𓇼 if you lay on his chest you could hear his heart racing. his fingers sometimes shake as he lifts it up to fix your hair. if you initiate physical touch he'd stiffen up just the slightest

𓇼 you playing music for him as he gently smiles at you is all the encouragement you could ask for. your passion for the arts has him in awe

𓇼 “let me turn the sheet music for you love”

𓇼 you got him on stardew valley and honestly he loves it. (all thanks to you)

𓇼 you can’t get him off the game for hours and he would start to ask you if you guys could play together haha

𓇼 weekend visits at the museums!! you both enjoy the calm and knowledgeable environment. he loves to hold your hand as you guys stroll past different exhibits

𓇼 a muse for his candid photos, he loves to take pictures of you

𓇼 akaashi is well aware of his surroundings, and definitely can read the room. he knows all your ticks and what bothers you

𓇼 he knows you want to do stuff for him as well and be helpful, but he always manages to beat you to it and take care of you first lol

𓇼 he makes sure you’re safe as his thumb gently caresses the back of your hand (he knows you hate crowded places)

𓇼 you don’t have to ask him, he knows.

𓇼 whenever you’re talking to him, he pays no attention to others. his focus is all on you

𓇼 eye contact is a big thing for him, he wants to make sure you know that he’s listening

𓇼 one thing he does randomly is fix your bangs or move them slightly with his fingers

𓇼 his meticulous organization and calm demeanor in high-pressure situations would appeal to you

𓇼 this would honestly be a good pairing with you always wanting things to be clean and organized

𓇼i think he’d notice it right away and adjust to make sure nothing is too messy (although i doubt he would let it get to that point anyway)

𓇼 cleaning days are on the weekends! he loves spending time with you any chance he gets and putting on music (your playlist of course)

𓇼 if conflicts do arise, akaashi’s calm and rational approach would help navigate through them

𓇼 “i’ll always be here for you baby, take your time”

𓇼 very patient with you

𓇼 whatever you need, he makes sure you get it

𓇼setting up surprises for you is his specialty

𓇼 who knows…you might arrive finding a cute kitten in his arms the next day loll

𓇼 god forbid there be bugs in the house, he’d squash them all with a calm face…yeah i don’t know how he does it either LMAO

𓇼 if you do make him something like a scarf, he’d wear it every single day. it’d be his new favorite item

𓇼 he isn’t the type to boast or anything but once his friends notice him wear it 24/7 he’d eventually show off…maybe just a little

𓇼 he just loves that you made it for him that’s all :)

𓇼 your intp personality aligns well with akaashi’s thoughtful and analytical nature—both of you enjoy intellectual stimulation and value deep conversations

𓇼 your passionate nature would bring excitement and energy in his life—he’ll bring you security with how loyal and caring he is

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

#𓇼—matchups #𓇼—haikyuu #haikyuu #akaashi keiji #hq

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typescript-official · 4 months ago

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If you want a safe way to try it, try using a virtual machine running linux mint to start with.

As for why you're getting propaganda, read below

Linux has recently started to become much more mainstream with non technical youtubers switching over to it and have been talking about their experiences in doing so. Among these are:

- PewDiePie

- Atomic Shrimp

- James Lee

There's a lot of reasons for it, but the short one is that this october, microsoft will cease mainstream Security patches for windows 10. As a note, this is the shortest support cycle they've ever offered (windows 7 was supported until 2020), and these security patches are installed silently in the background without prompting you, even for a restart, in windows 10. This leaves users with three options:

1. Stick with windows 10, despite the lack of security. - this is a terrible idea, as developers usually stop caring for backwards compatibility with recent updates, and these security patches are often the only thing stopping you from being hacked without any interaction on your end. You'd be surprised by the amount of compromising info you actually have on your computer, and how many times one of those silent security patches saved you from being screwed over.

2. Upgrade to windows 11 - this is a fairly unappealing option for a lot of people largely because windows 11 is... pretty annoying. The new features that are exciting and worth using are extremely buggy and broken. Several existing features have been removed, and the majority of new features are things like AI, crypto and advertising which are constantly pushed on you. Using windows 11 requires you to re-learn a lot of fundamental ideas within previous versions, at which point... many realise that option 3 is more appealing.

3. Switching OS - okay. I am an OG mac hater... but these days, even I can see that OSX is more appealing than using windows is now, because it's just, you know, an operating system. That said, some of windows 11's new features like virtual desktops and tiling are worth using...

If only there were an OS that had them already and had already patched out all the bugs many moons ago? Hmmmm.

Linux' biggest selling point is its customizability. The idea that your system can include as many cool features as you want, and as few annoying unfinished features as you want. Naturally it's also both been getting easier to use, and more capable.

Now that's not to say it's quite as easy to work with as other systems. Switching to linux is a bit like switching to mac, but with none of the guard rails, and if every major mac release was still recieving updates that spiralled off in their own directions. It can be pretty confusing to start with for sure. But it is certainly getting better.

Linux mint continues to be one of the best starting points for newcomers, and for gaming, linux has gotten really easy to work with. But. For other usecases, it can be a bit of a pain still. Specifically, photo editing is probably one of its weakspots, either requiring you to install a beta version of GIMP with multiple plugins, or to run through the grand riddle of figuring out how to install either photoshop or affinity using wine. It can also be tricky to work with more uncommon hardware (though there is a great app called input-remapper that has saved my ass so many times)

And of course sometimes you just encounter something that you need to fix or install and trying to fix it becomes a living nightmare because it feels like you're the first person in the history of the universe to encounter this issue. Tbh, that happens with every system, but especially when you're new to linux, it feels like the esoteric bug gods are targetting you specifically.

So. That's limnix. If you want recommendations lmk, otherwise, an easy way to try it out would be to install virtual box or vmware player, then install linux mint onto it.

Bro why is my dash filled with Linux propaganda I'm gonna get Ideas above my skill level and fuck up my pc trying to follow them.

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eponymousfics · 1 year ago

Note

For the ask fic writer thing: yellooowww 🧟

💛: Do you ever alter, highlight, or de-emphasize certain canonical traits in a character? If so, why and describe how.

Oh absolutely.

It’s probably easiest to explain with the sextuplets as examples (and odds are you’re here bc of that fandom lol), so here we go. (...Under a cut because this got super long sorry >_>)

In the silence purrs, I definitely emphasize Ichi’s common sense/decency and minimize the shitting-on-tables-when-panicked side, because the genre is fundamentally different than the show. The show is low-brow comedy, tsp is romance with comedic elements.

I reference the wilder side, but try to avoid showing it directly on-screen, so to speak, because the fic is a lot more about unpacking his fundamental fear of failure and simultaneous need for love and companionship.

I also highlight his kindness, which gets hinted at in the show but isn’t focused on because it’s not funny. And I think the environment created by the brothers’ dynamic just inherently disallows most displays of tenderness.

The fic is a way to explore how he can create a different version of himself when he’s put in a new position with new influences, and balance that with who he is with his family. (Which is hard and a big reason why the freakin' New Year's party chapter has been taking me ages lol)

I also have a different fic idea with him that would emphasize his creativity, using that to create new relationships, and I think that one would also let him indulge more in the side of him that likes dressing up and acting.

We’d probably wind up exploring how much more he has in common with Karamatsu than either of them would ever like to admit and how part of why Ichi is much harsher towards Kara is because of self-recognition in the other leading to activating his self-loathing, plus a little jealousy of the fact that Kara can express himself while Ichi can’t. (Which isn’t fully true bc Kara hides a LOT also but y’know)

I also have a prince AU that emphasizes his self-destructive side and how his anxiety and self-loathing can wind up pushing away and hurting the people who love him, the inherent self-centered nature of that self-loathing, and how he overcomes it. That one is a lot more angst/hurt/comfort.

The genre and what traits are emphasized or minimized and very intertwined, though it isn’t always that one dictates the other. Like with tsp, I didn’t set out with a genre in mind other than romance, I just knew Ichi was going to comfort a stranger bc the presence of cats would make him brave enough to push past his anxiety for once. In the initial stages of writing I didn’t think the reader would wind up having as much emotional baggage themselves as they do, and that the whole fic would be a little more lighthearted, but sometimes things just happen lol

With the sextuplets especially, there's going to be more of this kind of trait highlighting/cherry-picking/unpacking because any fic (that I'd write for them) would always be some form of "I can fix him." Let's face it, if we want any of them to be relatively healthy romantic partners for anybody, they have a lot of personal growth to go through.

Which makes for interesting stories! And because their traits are so saturated and bold in the show, you can kind of play around with some very strong colors, including de-saturating or toning down, or mixing up in weird and fun ways.

Taking a more realistic approach inherently requires a little toning down, but you could also go the opposite way and throw in a Bugs Bunny-esque OC and do a wacky tasteless borderline-crackfic romcom. Kind of anything goes, so long as you keep the tone consistent within the story, which is probably why I've wound up writing the most in this fandom as opposed to anything else I'm into.

Anyway, I could talk about this kind of thing all day, and if there was a different fandom I've written for you wanted to ask about specifically lmk! For now though, this is way too long already lol

Thank you so much for asking! I had a lot of fun answering this ^o^

#epon answers #it's easier to write for the sextuplets bc their traits are VERY defined and that makes it easier to find jumping off points #and also the “lots of room for growth” thing #i have a lot of characters i love to pieces and would loveeee to write a romance for but they kinda are already super well-rounded in canon #which makes it hard for me to go 'ah and we could have a whole story around how this particular trait of theirs works in a romance'#like otto chriek my beloved #how am i supposed to write anything other than something with the stakes of a coffee shop au with him he's too perfect #i mean he has GOT flaws and character nuance just not stuff i find easy/obvious to explore personally #nothing against coffee shop aus i just have a hard time writing them #alksdjflkasjdf fuck ok i'll shut up now #the silence purrs

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vintagesimstress · 2 years ago

Text

CAMPFIRE - SIMPLE LIVING FIX

06 January 2025 update: This mod is now obsolete, as it seems EA fixed the bug themselves. I won't be maintaining it in any way, so please remove it from your mods folders!

***

First things first: let's fix a bug which makes playing in the Iron Age... Well, maybe not impossible, but very tricky.

Have you ever tried to use a campfire with the Simple Living challenge on? You know, the one which makes it so that you need all the necessary ingredients to be able to cook (came with Cottage Living, I guess)? I hadn't, for a long time. And then I have. And realised, to my greatest surprise, that when the challenge is on the only thing I can roast over a campfire are marshmallows. No hot dogs. No beetles. No fish, even though I most certainly just caught some and had them in my inventory. Huh?

My confusion just grew when I did some searching in S4S and discovered that EA made a separate interaction extra for this scenario: using a campfire while the Simple Living challenge is active. I tried moving some stuff around, but to no avail. After some 3 days of trying out different things and failing miserably (I'm modding level 2 or 3, at best...), I threw my arms in the air in despair and screamed internally: 'I give up; it makes zero sense! It's precisely the same interaction, only the lot trait is whitelisted instead of blacklisted! It should work, but those stupid options won't appear! Like if they weren't even connected to the campfire or something...'

And then it clicked.

Yeah. They weren't connected.

Well, now they are.

Put my fix in your mods folder and enjoy living simply with your freshly caught fish or beetles, or self-prepared hot dogs made of bread and meat (substitute)!

I used this opportunity to also disable the option to roast marshmallows when the challenge is on, because for real, there's nothing simple about marshmallows. The ingredients you'd need to make them yourself don't even exist in the game afaik.

Enjoy and lmk if anything doesn't work as intended!

DOWNLOAD (FREE ON PATREON, NO ADS)

Outdoor Retreat (and Cottage Living? maybe?) required

#iron age #dark ages #medieval #cottage living #outdoor retreat #ts4 mods

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danowh0re · 3 years ago

Note

Hellooo I am a big fan of your writing!! It would be amazing if you could write an eddie hc where he comforts the reader while they’re crying please and thank you

𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢/𝚗

Tysm for the request! | lmk how you like it | rbs are appreciated

Would call them bunny, bun bun, love bug, honey. Being like, "love bug??? What's the problem??"

He knows exactly how to cheer them up / what can cheer them up

Imagine him saying like, "do you want the rest of my pie, dear?." 🥺

He can be accidentally a little pushy, but he means no harm.

Doesn't leave their side- either touching them or giving them love in any other way

I feel like he always has a bunched up napkin in his pocket always, ready for whatevers to come. And I bet he makes down effects when pulling it out of his pocket, trying to comfort y/n and keep their mind thinking on something else

Gets offended if they turn down his love though- either leaving them alone to do their own thing and fix their problems or forcing it-

"Sweetums... look what you're doing right now. You silly little goose is crying your eyes out!!!." Does anything to make them laugh- bullying them but in the cutest way possible

A lot. I mean a lot of kisses on the nose and forehead

He can't be serious for that long at all- he let's out a couple giggles and Chuckles

Literally already feels like he can comfort them when he's just 🧍‍♂️. there.

Also doesn't let them leave or just move in general- not realizing they can't breathe while he's literally squeezing their body so tight-

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜 ~

@thehermitsaltar @ghot-girl @nephilxterra @truecobblepot @sympathyforher @trelaney @koshi-sama @creepling @the-hidden-pages @swn-kings1 @hansakind @milfodyssey @geisterfvhrer @iggay @vocivious @earwax666660 @etherealweed @yelenabelovasbathwater @vigilanteboyfriend @im-a-burden-to-society @riddleklitz @vxid42 @halcyonbabe @2000sbxtch @cowboys-and-riddlers @beenz-beenz @sagexsenorita @whiiiiplaaaaash @foetus-on-your-breath @sleepg0blin @slut-for-matt-murdock @paramountives

#the riddler x reader #paul dano the riddler #the riddler 2022 #dano riddler #the riddler #riddler #batman x reader #the batman 2022 #the batman #bruce wayne #bruce wane x reader #paul dano #ᶜʰᵃʳˡⁱᵉˢ ☞︎︎︎ ᴀsᴋs #paul dano x reader #paul dano x gn!reader

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misticloyal · 3 years ago

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Shadowpeach + Calabash = Disaster

Y’all really for this one I don’t think y’all ready

K so normally I don’t ship things in the JTTW setting because I treat it as a separate thing from LMK- HOWEVER

Lmk AU where Macaque finds himself mysteriously back when Wu Kong was making his Journey to the West.

But this time when he goes to confront Wu Kong about Tripitakas abuse they deal with it in a MUCH more civil manner.

Although Macaque wants to rip his masters throat out, the Monkey King is trying convince him that Tang San Zang hasn’t done anything wrong, right? So the solution is simple

“六耳 listen- how about you come WITH us?”

“What?”

“You don’t trust my master here, yes? BUT you also cannot kill him, therefore if you want to ensure my saftey come WITH us and you’ll be able to observe our journey,”

“…”

“Cmon you tell me the great 六耳猕猴 is scared to accompany his beloved friend on a journey?”

“Of course not. I will accompany you all as well,”

“Awesome B)”

Macaque slowly grows to view Tripitaka in the same way Mei and Pigsy view Monkey King- because of MK (or in this case Sun Wu Kong) they tolerate his mentor (or in this case Wu Kong’s master)

Everything goes all fine and dandy

Obviously Macaque and Sun Wu Kong get along the greatest, they even end up having a few fruity moments per say.

Macaque and Zhu Ba Jie don’t hate each other but they’re definitely not friends. More like ‘only I get to bug Wu Kong to get a rise out of him. It was pretty funny when Ba Jie actually caught on that Macque maybe sorta likes Wu Kong as in he wants him to be his partner and WOO he had a field day with that.

Sha Wu Jing seemed to be the only one to be concerned for Macaque because of some more...weird occurrences he’s seen. For example, there were moments where Macaque would say clearly while right next to a sleeping Wu Kong that he misses him so much, and that he’s sorry.

For what? Wu Kong’s right there, why would the shadow demon miss him?

So clearly Wu Jing is the one in the future to ask if Macaque is alright and if there’s something going on he would tell the rest of the group. Throughout the whole trip he was the one that made the back of Macaque’s brain yell at him that doing this was not healthy and he was just running away from his problems.

When Macaque meets 金 and 银, the world fades around him and he wakes up in the center of the demon brothers dojo.

He was in the calabash.

Immediately his first instinct is to beat the shit out of them and he almost does-

“WAIT- wait wait, 老侯 we have an explanation-“

“What could you POSSIBLY have-“

“You wanted us to do this remember? When you’re inside the calabash ya brain does a little bit of a fuck up and forgets recent events,” says Yin

“Yeah, you’d think we’d put you in there and NOT fear for our lives? Ya see we came in INSURANCE”

“Bullshit. Give me a better reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand,”

“MATE- Here have a look for ya self “

Yin tosses him a peice of paper with a dark purple signature on the bottom. It seemed the paper behind the ink was practically whitening just to highlight the words and whisps of shadow curled off the characters 六耳猕猴

Jim continues nodding his head “told us you felt like you were dying. Had to see em right away…”

His expression changed to a sympathetic sadness and he leans his weight on Yin who supports him instantly.

“You need to fix things with him,”

“Shut up”

“My bro’s got a point Boss. Everyone knows the tale of how you two fell out, no one’s how badly it wounded the both of yous. You NEED him back,”

“Shut up SHUT UP- I KNOW”

“Then go out there and fucking fix your problem mate,”

“Easier said then done,” and then Macaque disappears through the ground.

“Gods almighty like father like son, we thought MK and Red Son were bad look at these two idiots”

“Yeah man, it’s not even like one of them messed up, Sun Wu Kong needs to get his shite together,” Jin wheezes

“Well said brother, well said”

#lego monkie kid #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #headcanon #lmk 金和银 #lmk jin and yin #lmk jin #lmk yin #shadowpeach #Jin and Yin carrying tbh #no cap

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pigeonwhumps · 3 years ago

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Re-introduction

Whumpmas in July: Day 1

Hi! I'm Ruth, they/them, I'm 24 and British.

This is a sideblog so most interaction will come from @paintedpigeon1.

I take art commissions, see here for more information!

I may take a while to update series but none of them are abandoned! If you're desperate for an update then the best way to get one is to send me an ask with a bthb bingo square/ask game prompt (any of the ask games under the link, I don't mind how old they are).

If you'd like me to warn for something in my writing, or if I've missed a content warning that I usually note, please just shoot me an ask! I'm happy to tag for pretty much anything.

If you use any of my prompts, please tag me so I can read them!

I haven't been part of the whump community for very long, and this is my first Whumpmas in July. Woo!

So, some whump tropes I love:

Gagging

Muzzles

Pet whump

Whumper pressing down on whumpee's back to keep them from getting up

Branding

Whipping

Caretaker turned whumpee/whumpee turned caretaker

Hero/villain whump

Tall whumpee/small caretaker (or vice versa)

Tall whumpee/small whumper

Comfort after whump

Whumpee thinks caretaker is their new whumper

Incompetent/clueless caretaker (they're trying their best but they have no idea what they're doing)

Some tropes I'm picky about:

Major character death

Mouth whump

Pregnancy whump

And some I will not read:

Graphic tooth whump

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch

Masterlist

I'm working on fixing the broken links, but if you see something you want to read that the link's broken to please just lmk and I'll find it for you! They're all still here, just Tumblr fucked up the at.tumblr links so some stuff won't link atm. Some of the posts and masterlist are fine, some are... not.

My writing and art:

Botanist Whumpee

Bug and Company

Cian and Row

Fanfic (links to main blog)

Finding Safety

Immortal Cannon Fodder

MD-264N

Out of the Frying Pan

Out of the Water

Pets of the Silver Screen

Sam and Lucan

Sanctuary

Survival Skills

Torturing Fangs (interactive vampire whump)

Non-series masterlist

Other stuff:

BBU Community Days masterlist

Whumpmas in July 2022 masterlist

Prompts

Ask games

Bad Things Happen Bingo

@whumpmasinjuly

#whump #introduction #masterlist #whumpmas in july #wij2022

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eyndr-stories · 3 years ago

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The Stranger The Better (FNAF SB) fanfic C9 - In A While, Crocodile

Read the intro to Chapter 1 (Enter A Sleepy Bitchard) for more details! I'd start reading there anyways else things won't make a whole lot of sense lol

In Summary: Reader is a forever exhausted young adult who has social difficulties doing their best to pay the bills, so when they get hired at the well-paying, almost entirely automated Freddy Fazbear's Mega Pizza-Plex, they don't really hesitate to think things through before stumbling headfirst into a horror mystery surrounding this company and its crew of quirky (and surprisingly kind) animatronics.

Things To Know (lmk if I should add anything, also check the tags for more stuff):

There are some horror elements in several chapters! This chapter isn't all that spooky, but does include blackmail and manipulation tactics. Also, several lightbulbs are smashed.

Eventual romance, minorly important to the plot.

Reader has paranoia.

There is much swearing.

Reader is also addicted to energy drinks, and not fantastic at self care.

Reader is nonbinary (and also trans masc) though it's not vital to the plot and only comes up once or twice.

Reader is from the south, is protective of their friends, and if you threaten their friends then I'm afraid you've yee'd your last haw and yes that is important to the plot

Previous Chapter | Chapter 9 | Next Chapter

C9 - In A While, Crocodile

Your leg bounced anxiously as Paige took a seat across from you. The little round table and folding chairs looked out over your garden, as well as the messy pile of fence supplies you had yet to utilize.

The sky was just starting to brighten. The world was quiet, the surrounding forest still, not a whisper of a breeze to disturb the leaves. You could hear the familiar ringing in your ears, as well as your heart pounding away.

“Would you like to start us off?” Paige asked.

“Alright.” You took a deep breath through your nose and forced your nerves down. This was fine. You’d just be carrying out your plan now instead of later. You hadn’t worked out how to word any of it, and you’d been expecting to have the luxury of typing it out. “First, let me ask… how familiar are you with the animatronics themselves?”

“Quite.” Paige smiled, though ‘smile’ was a stretch. Her lips pressed into a thin line that didn’t reach her eyes at all.

“Good. So you’re aware they’re all sentient.” You paused to try and gauge her reaction. You couldn’t decipher much, so you went on. “And you’re likely also aware that none of them have breaks or days off, and aren’t really allowed to leave the building. Not to mention, are on all accounts providing… uncompensated labor.”

Paige studied you carefully. “The company is fully within its legal right to utilize its own property how it sees fit, in accordance with the law and safety regulations.”

You felt that anger quickly rising up in you. You desperately tried to push it down, but you were too tired. “See, here’s the thing.” You did your best not to glare. “Yall haven’t really been following all those safety regulations, have you?” You paused, getting a small amount of satisfaction as Paige shifted uncomfortably. “As per your last email, I believe you tried to dissuade me from engaging with one of your biggest safety concerns. After an incident had already occurred. I have the proof, if you’d like to review it.”

Paige was silent for a moment. She stared at you, expression hard. “No need. I’m aware of the incident. Here’s the thing…” Paige’s eyes narrowed. “It would be rather unfortunate if word got out about an incident like that. We’d have no choice but to decommission the animatronic. Permanently.”

You paled. Shit. You hadn’t realized that. You set your jaw and quickly tried to think of a response. “…Why haven’t you jackals gotten your specialist in to fix Moon’s bug yet?”

Paige smiled that thin not-smile again. “You know as well as I do that at the end of the day, its all about money. Profit. Budgets. That’s why you came back to work after the incident. Gotta pay the bills. It’d be a shame for you to loose such a nice little place, especially so soon after the last move.”

You sat stock still, fighting to keep your expression neutral as Paige's eyes bore into you. Your hands were shaking under the table. How did she know?

“The specialist is technically retired, and demanding more than we were expecting to come back for another job,” Paige went on. “The big wigs have been going back and forth with the budget and the specialist, trying to figure out how to loose the lease amount of profit. The specialist is being… difficult. She has some differing ideas and perspectives from the higher ups. Honestly, things aren’t looking great for the daycare attendant right now. They’re starting to ask if the company even really needs a daycare, if there's perhaps a more lucrative area to replace the daycare with.”

“What if there was a way to solve the issue and increase profit?” you said suddenly.

Paige studied you quizzically. “Then I’d be all ears.”

You took out your phone and pulled up the picture you'd taken of the half-finished animatronic. “If you used the original body you built for Moon. It’s almost completed, wouldn’t take much to finish it up. It’s just sitting in storage. All that money yall put into constructing it… would finally start paying off. Specially since it doesn’t cost yall much to employ animatronics, does it? Bet you save a lot of money on labor,” you said, not bothering to keep the venom out of your tone.

Paige didn’t seem bothered at all. In fact, she appeared thoughtful. “I don’t know how you know as much as you do, you’ve only been employed for two weeks. But… you do pose an interesting proposition. I wasn’t aware the old body was still around… We’d still need to bring in the specialist of course, but if it makes more money in the long run…” Paige smiled thinly once more. “I believe this meeting has been rather productive. If you have any further questions, don’t hesitate to contact me.” Paige set a business card down on the table, got up, and left.

You heard her car start up, then drive off. You sat there for a long time. After a good ten minutes, your hands finally stopped shaking. The sun finally started to peek above the trees, the first rays of morning making the clouds glow. You pocketed the business card and went inside. You needed some fucking sleep.

~~~

You did your usual rounds first, taking your time with it. You didn’t have the first clue what you were going to say to Moon and Sun about what had happened this morning. You still hadn’t even fully processed it.

To your surprise, you actually ran into Moon halfway through your rounds.

“Is everything alright??” you asked, quickly checking your phone to see if you’d missed any calls. You hadn’t, so you looked at Moon quizzically.

“You were taking too long,” Moon chided. “Management contacted us earlier.”

Moon had your full attention now, if they hadn’t before. “Oh?”

“They told us that it was taking so long to get the specialist in because their plan is to finish the old model. The one you found. They’re going to fix my bug and separate Sun and I. It’s a big project, so they needed lots of time,” Moon said.

You frowned. “Is that so.”

“…I am feeling conflicted about being separated from Sun. I don’t know what he’ll do without me.” Moon smirked and paused, likely listening to Sun yelling at him in his head. “And I don’t want to… get my hopes up just yet. But it does seem as if things will work out, and soon.”

You weren’t sure what to say. Should you even tell Moon about what had happened? You didn’t want to spoil their mood. He was clearly excited, having come to meet you instead of waiting for you, and he was nervous, seeing as this was the twitchiest and animated you had ever seen him.

“That’s great, M. I told you it’d all work out.” You tried a smile.

Moon stared at you suspiciously. “You’re hiding something.”

You cursed. You’d always been a shitty liar. “…Alright, lets walk and talk.” You sighed.

You continued on your rounds, being extra vigilant about looking around so you didn’t have to look at Moon. Moon stared at you the whole time, expression unreadable for the most part. They didn’t interrupt, though it was clear at times that they wanted to. You got through the whole story, telling Moon as precisely as possible the conversation you’d has with Paige this morning.

The two of you reached the daycare. You sat down heavily in one of the chairs at the little sitting area just outside the daycare. You finally looked at Moon, who loomed over you, looking somewhat upset.

“She came to your house,” Moon stated.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“She threatened to decommission me and Sun if you tried to take legal action against them.”

“Yeah,” you said again.

“They were going to decommission us anyways. Close the daycare.”

“Not for certain, Paige said it was an option they were considering,” you said.

“Right.” Moon frowned. “Should have known better than to take those monsters at their word.”

“They are going to do the whole, finish the other animatronic body and fix you up thing. That part wasn’t a lie.”

“No, just the fact that they lied about how very close they were to deciding to shut down the daycare because of me and my bug making things too difficult and costly for them.” Moon scowled, folding his arms and glaring at the floor. “…If you hadn’t given that idea to Paige…”

“If I hadn’t and they tried to decommission you, I’d kidnap yall and flee the country,” you stated.

Moon cracked a smile. “Of course.”

“How’s Sun doing with all this?”

Moon looked away, pausing for a moment. “He is… Sun is very angry.”

“Angry?”

Moon nodded. “On your behalf. Also mine.”

“Oh.” You paused. “I’m fine. You guys were the ones in trouble of being decommissioned.”

Moon stared at you. “She came to your house, Y/N. She blackmailed you. She used manipulation tactics on you, bringing up your past, getting you to do what she wanted.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged. “Whatever.”

Moon sighed sharply. He paused for a long moment. They became especially twitchy, their faceplate starting to spin. He gripped his head, and you could see him straining to hold in the tips of a few sun rays trying to pop out. “Sun has a lot to say. But he can wait till tomorrow,” Moon said forcefully, straightening up and folding their arms.

“Oh boy.” You laughed. “I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“Y/N… remember that the phone works both ways. If you find a stranger at your house again… call us,” Moon said.

You felt strange. You couldn’t place the feeling. “Don’t worry about me, guys. I’m fine, I can take care of myself. Besides, yall can’t leave the building anyways.”

“…There is no rule against Sun leaving the building,” Moon said.

“He can’t leave the daycare.”

“But I can,” Moon said.

“…Well, you don’t need to do all that anyways. I appreciate it, but I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about me,” you assured.

Moon sighed. “Whatever.”

“Did management say when this whole operation would go down?” you asked, hoping to change the topic.

“A week. The specialist will be flying into town in a few days,” Moon said.

“Right.”

“Sun made certain they’d do it after hours on a day you were scheduled to work.” Moon’s expression was difficult to discern.

“Oh, good!” You paused, trying and failing to study Moon. You made your best context-based guess. “Are you alright with me being there?”

Moon looked away, humming nonchalantly. “Sure, whatever.”

“Are you lying?” You squinted at Moon.

“No.” Moon rolled his eyes. “Sun and I are not allowed to lie.”

“Oh really??” You stared at Moon, shocked. “Oh. Hey, listen. If you ever don’t wanna tell me something you can say 'pass'. That way you don’t have to be forced to tell me the truth or anything.”

Moon smiled softly. “It’s appreciated. Sun and I have our workarounds, so don’t fret.”

You relaxed a little. “Okay.”

"Sun and I have much to discuss. Excuse me, sheriff, you've got a town to patrol."

You smiled. "Right. Rest assured partner, I'll keep yall safe from outlaws and bandits."

"Good night." Moon smiled at you before heading into the daycare.

You waved goodbye, then stood up and stretched a little. You half considered getting a cowboy hat and wearing it to work one day as you got back to your patrols. Maybe you could dress up as a sheriff for Halloween… if you weren't fired by then.

~~~

You fell into a comfortable routine. Now that you'd been working at the plex for a while, you were getting the hang of managing your schedule, and growing accustomed to the new sleep schedule. When you could sleep, that is. You had another rabbit dream. This time, the rabbit was enormous, and you were someplace cold, facing off against this murderous assailant. A duck appeared and honked at you with such random suddenness that you were startled awake.

You put the weird dream out of mind. You had the day off, and there were lots of chores to do that you'd been putting off. Tending the garden, doing the laundry, cleaning your room, cleaning yourself. Not to mention you really needed to work on the fence…

You set reminders and timers on your phone as you ate a microwaved breakfast sandwich, then washed it down with an energy drink. You may not be working today, but you still had a lot to do.

You texted Sun sporadically throughout the day. He wasn't super busy today, only looking after a few kids. Sun convinced you to take a break and eat lunch in the middle of the day. They asked about your garden, and you sent them lots of pictures of the herbs and flowers you were growing. Once the weather warmed up, you'd be able to start harvesting and making your own tea.

After making decent progress on the fence and quelling the voice in your head that chided you for not getting the whole thing finished in a day, you took a much needed shower and relaxed for the rest of the night, texting Moon about how the fence was coming along, and sending him a picture of a frog you'd spotted in your tool bag. Moon seemed delighted by the frog, and was very happy when you told him you'd safely removed the frog from the bag and set it in the grass by the trees.

The next day, you had a full shift at the plex. You waited for the crowd to clear out before heading inside, bringing a resupply of energy drinks for the break room's minifridge. You noted that it appeared someone else was using the coffee machine, though they'd forgotten to rinse out the pot. You were pleased someone else was getting some use out of it. Maybe it was Vanessa? You debated leaving a little note on the white board, eventually deciding against it.

The bear bot was waiting outside the break room for you.

"Oh! Howdy," you said. You really wished you knew this guy's name. You couldn't just ask, revealing you hadn't known all along.

"Hello, Y/N! I hope you are well. I wanted to speak with you, if that is alright?" the bear asked, smiling in a reassuring way.

"Yeah, of course. Let's walk and talk," you offered. When the bear nodded, you got out your flashlight and started your rounds, the bear walking alongside you.

"I heard from Vanessa a while ago that management had some concerns with you. I was wondering if they had spoken to you already, and wanted to check in and see how you were doing," the bear said.

"Damn, how much was she complaining about me?? Is there anyone here who doesn't know about that?" you laughed awkwardly.

"Well, Vanessa only spoke to Chica, but… well, Chica loves to gossip," the bear said with a sheepish shrug.

"It's all good, I had a… meeting with someone from management. We got things worked out. I think. I mean, I haven't been fired, so." You shrugged. "And I helped them figure out a solution for Moon's bug."

"Right... I also heard from Chica that you have been interacting with Moon frequently?" the bear asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, Sun as well." You paused, recalling the bear's advice to avoid the daycare, which you had promptly ignored. "Oh, you don't have to worry, I know all about the malfunctions and stuff. It's all good."

The bear seemed surprised. He quickly relaxed. "I see. I still feel you should be cautious…"

"Sun and Moon are my friends," you said, watching the bear carefully.

"I am glad to hear you are getting along. Even Monty seems to have warmed up to you!" The bear smiled. "Roxanne is a different story, but I am sure she will come around."

You pieced together that Monty was the gator guy with the shades, and Roxanne had to be the wolf lady.

The bear continued. "DJMM says he has not had a chance to meet you yet, but he looks forward to it."

"Uh… who's that again??" You mentally went over all the animatronics you'd seen. You were unable to recall hearing about or meeting a 'DJMM'.

"DJ Music Man! He performs in the arcade. He is such a kind fellow, you should introduce yourself!" the bear suggested. "I am sure you would make fast friends."

Realization dawned on you, and you stopped dead in your tracks. "The spider guy?!"

The bear looked confused.

"I mean… he's got all those fuckin legs… sorry, I don't like spiders." You'd been either avoiding the arcade entirely or quickly powerwalking through, barely glancing towards the dance floor.

"How about we go say hello? Once you meet him you will see he is not scary at all," the bear assured.

"Right now??" You frowned. "I guess we are pretty close to the arcade…" You shifted anxiously from foot to foot.

"Common, superstar! I know you can do it!" The bear bot smiled comfortingly and offered you a hand.

You might have felt a little patronized, but the bear was just so sincere and kind. "Ahh, alright." You took the bear's pleasantly warm hand and walked with him to the arcade.

As it turns out, the bear was right. DJMM was awake when you entered the arcade and waved excitedly at you and the bear. The bear introduced the two of you, and you quickly learned that the DJ was limited in his vocals, only able to make musical tones and short phrases like 'alright!' or 'wh-wh-whaaat??' and 'break it down!'. The longer you hung out with him the more you realized he really was just a gentle giant. He was all smiles and seemed delighted to meet you. He offered you a high-five when you and Freddy departed, and you found you weren't even bothered by the fact that his hand was as big as you.

"Alright, you were right. He's pretty cool," you admitted to the bear.

"I knew you two would get along!" The bear beamed.

"If only everyone were that easy to get along with," you said, thinking of Roxanne and Vanessa. You weren't entirely sure about the gator guy, Monty, but the bear had said he was warming up to you, ever since you'd politely told management to fuck off in your email. "That wolf lady, Roxanne, she seems so cool but I think she hates me for some reason."

"Hmm." The bear nodded. He looked thoughtful.

"What's that look?" you questioned. "What are you thinking?"

The bear casually folded his arms behind his back. "Ohhh, no need to worry, superstar! Let us get back to your rounds, shall we? I hope you do not mind my company."

"Naw, not at all," you said. You liked the bear bot, he was very nice.

You made idle conversation with the bear, telling him about your deli job, and he told you about some fun stories interacting with the kids. It was clear he liked it here, liked making the kids happy and singing songs with his friends and befriending new people.

The bear grew quiet as the two of you passed the bowling alley. He folded his hands together and looked away.

You weren't really paying attention to the bear though. Your eyes were on the big sign above the arcade, reading 'Bonnie's Bowling'. "Hey, I've been meaning to ask you! All the areas are themed after a different animatronic, right? Monty has that minigolf area, Sun and Moon have the daycare, Roxanne has the bumper-car raceway. But there's some areas that promote animatronics that aren't around here anywhere, unless I've somehow gone a month without meeting them. Like this bunny guy, and the fox guy who looks like a pirate," you said.

The bear was silent for a very long moment. You had started to worry you'd said something wrong, going back over what you'd said in your head, when he finally replied.

"Foxy was never completed. The plans got reworked, and they had to cut him from the budget. Bonnie…"

You stared at the bear. He looked so sad, you almost expected him to start crying.

"We are not sure what happened to Bonnie," was all the bear said.

It was clearly difficult for the bear to talk about, so you didn't push the matter, despite your burning curiosity. "Would you like a hug?" you offered.

The bear smiled at you. "I would love a hug."

You hugged the bear, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring pat on the back.

"Which area are we patrolling next?" the bear asked, straightening up.

The bear seemed to be doing better now, so you turned your attention back to your job. "Well lets see. I usually try and switch it up a little from night to night, so... Next up is the hall with all the rooms," you decided.

"Ah, rock-star row! There is a lot of history and interesting trivia to be discovered in the display cases there."

The bear chatted about all the improvements and new features the plex had, after the rebranding. Apparently the plex had shut down a decade ago, and had only reopened a few years ago.

The bear stopped by one of the rooms, looking in through the window. You stopped as well and looked at him curiously. Before you could ask what he was doing, he knocked on the glass and waved at whoever was inside.

You stepped closer, then groaned internally when you realized this was Roxanne's room. She was coming outside to meet you and the bear.

"What do you want?" The wolf folded her arms and frowned disapprovingly down at you, even though it was the bear who had knocked.

"Hello, Roxy! Y/N and I were chatting earlier and they told me all about how cool they think you are!" The bear smiled innocently as he pat your shoulder.

Your cheeks felt hot. What the hell was the bear doing??

"Is that so?" Roxanne flipped her hair and assumed a nonchalant stance. "You have good taste, at least."

You weren't sure if that was a compliment, but at least it wasn't an insult. "Uh, yeah. Um. I think maybe we got off on the wrong foot, so uh… I was hoping maybe we could work it out? I do actually think you're cool, and would like to be pals. Or at least, friendly workplace associates." You glanced at the bear, who gave you a thumbs up.

"I didn't realize you were a fan. I guess I could give you a second chance." Roxy folded her arms. "…You think I'm cool?"

"Are you kidding? You're a rock-star wolf lady. Ain't much else cooler than that." You laughed lightly. "I was really into wolves as a kid. I still think they're cool."

"Ohh dear, I am afraid my systems are starting to overheat. I really must be heading off to a recharge station… Roxanne, if you would not mind keeping Y/N company for me?" the bear asked sweetly.

You squinted suspiciously at the bear.

"Sure, whatever. I don't have anything else to do tonight." Roxy shrugged.

The bear left you two alone before you could protest, hurrying into his room. You noted his little fluff-ball tail wagging happily as he went. You glanced at Roxanne, then awkwardly began walking. She walked with you, looking disinterested.

"So uh. What instrument do you play?" you asked.

"Keytar," she replied.

"Oh! That's sick, I play piano," you said.

"Really?" Roxy glanced at you.

"Yeah, I'm nowhere near good enough to perform or anything like you do though. It's mostly just a fun hobby for me."

Roxy smiled. "I'm sure you're not too bad."

"I'm decent. I'm sure you'd play circles around me," you said.

Roxy nodded. "You're not wrong there. I'm the best there is," she said proudly.

"Hell yeah!"

You noted out of the corner of your eye that Roxanne's tail had started wagging at some point. You smiled, then thought for a moment. You pieced together that she seemed to enjoy positive attention and compliments. "You must be like, the most popular of the crew, right? I can't imagine how busy you must be, meeting fans and signing autographs and such."

"Of course." Roxy smiled. "Everyone loves me. The other glamrocks have their fair share of fans, but I'm sure I have the most." She paused. "Do you think I have the most fans??"

"I've never been here during the day so I don't know. I'm sure you've got lots of fans, though."

"More than lots… the most," Roxy said, almost to herself.

You studied her quizzically. "It's really important to you to be the best, huh?"

Roxy gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. "You wouldn't get it. You'll never understand the pressure I'm under. I can't make mistakes. I don't make mistakes."

"Everyone makes mistakes," you said softly.

"Not me. I'm the best," Roxy insisted.

"I love the self confidence, but… you know you're not perfect, right?" You quickly continued as Roxy's expression fell into a frown. "No one is. That’s the horrifying beauty of things. I know you've got a lot of people who look up to you, but I promise they'd still adore you even if they knew you made mistakes. Because they make mistakes too. Perfection is an unobtainable ideal. That applies to everyone."

Roxy crossed her arms. "What do you know?"

"I know what its like to be hard on yourself. To be maybe a little too critical at times. To hold yourself to a higher standard than everyone else. Its okay to not be perfect, you know?" You offered a reassuring smile. “So long as you do your best… that’s all you can do, really.”

Roxy looked away. She was silent for a long moment. "Whatever." She turned and walked away.

You were worried you'd blown your second chance, but Roxy called back to you before she rounded the corner.

"Y/N… thanks. I guess." She was out of sight before you could reply.

Well, that was progress. Probably.

You got on with your rounds.

~~~

Between hanging out with Sun and Moon, reading them stories and singing songs and playing games and drawing (you’d drawn each of them a colored picture, a happy sunflower for Sun and a sleepy frog for Moon) and just talking about whatever, you also spent some time with the other animatronics as well. You stopped by DJMM's dance floor every night now, and had taken to calling him Mr. Music, which he seemed pleased with. As it turns out, he used sign language, which you were struggling to learn. You'd learned a little a few years ago, but you were extremely rusty. Mr. Music was very patient with you and willing to help you learn, so you spent a few minutes learning sign from him, and helped him come up with new song ideas in return.

To your surprise, Monty really had warmed up to you. He even invited you to the warehouse to smash old lightbulbs with him. You were both intrigued and concerned, though you agreed none the less.

Monty fiddled with an electrical box in the warehouse for a minute, eventually getting the lights to turn on. The place seemed so much smaller in the light. It was still a storage warehouse, but it was no longer an intimidating void. You noted the security bots seemed to be keeping their distance, rolling around the very far end of the warehouse.

Monty set the giant cardboard box he'd been carrying down on the ground, then pulled out a pair of safety goggles.

"You'll need these for your puny eyes," Monty said, handing the goggles over to you.

"Thanks." You adjusted the strap to your head, then gave Monty a thumbs up.

Monty reached back into the box and pulled out a fluorescent tube light. It looked old, and undoubtedly no longer worked. Monty hurled it at the concrete wall. It shattered into thousands of tiny pieces. Monty grinned, satisfied with this.

"Go on, squirt! Your turn," Monty said.

You shrugged and grabbed another florescent tube from the box. You swung it like a bat, letting it go and watching it crash against the wall. It did shatter, but not as entirely or violently as Monty's had.

"Alright!! You're stronger than you look!" Monty commended.

"Thanks! So are you!" You chuckled and grabbed another light.

You and Monty smashed old lights against the floor and the walls until there were none left to smash. Seemingly sensing that the chaos was over, a custodian bot wheeled over and began dutifully sweeping up all the glass.

You grabbed a broom and started sweeping as well, feeling bad about leaving the mess for someone else to clean.

"That was fun! Do you do that often?" You asked Monty as you swept.

"Pretty often. I feel better afterwards. It's relaxing, you know?" Monty leaned back against some metal shelves.

"Yeah, I get that. I used to have a punching bag, it did wonders with relieving my stress. Had to sell it when I moved though, my new place doesn't have enough space for it."

"That's too bad," Monty said. "…Do you ever… nevermind."

You paused and looked at him curiously. "What?"

Monty scratched his claws over the metal shelf, making a loud grinding noise. He didn't seem to notice. "I dunno. Just… do you ever feel like… out of control?"

"Sometimes." You slowly resumed your sweeping. "It's not a very fun feeling."

"Yeah." Monty nodded. "I get these… it's so frustrating." Monty huffed. He started pacing around. "This is embarrassing… don't tell anyone. Especially not Chica, she'll tell the whole damn building, down to the wet floor signs."

"My lips are sealed," you promised. You and the custodian bot finished sweeping up the mess in no time. You turned your full attention to Monty.

Monty paused his pacing. He glanced at you, then frowned at the shelves. "Sometimes my memory storage doesn't save things right. I'll just randomly loose several hours and have no clue what I did. It doesn't happen often, but… I hate it." He half heartedly punched the shelf he was glaring at.

You were no stranger to the negative side effects of sleep deprivation, so you understood how frustrating it could be to not be able to remember stuff. "That really sucks. I'm sorry, man. If I can offer you some advice, what works for me is journaling. Improves my memory a little to write down stuff I get up to, and if I forget I can go back and read what I did and jog my memory. Its also a pretty great outlet to relieve stress. You know, if you ever run out of lightbulbs."

Monty smirked. "Yeah… that's not a bad idea. Thanks, Y/N."

"I should get back to my rounds. Thanks for hanging out with me. I'll see you later, alligator," you said with a wink.

Monty laughed. "In a while, crocodile."

You smiled to yourself as you swept your flashlight over the dingy familiar access tunnels. You were making friends, it seemed.

Slowly, but surely.

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