Discover Top Posts Tagged with #selectively open

"Cuddles..?"

#selectively open #mostly bc #he's not gonna ask a stranger for cuddles BUT romantic and platonic ships are equally fine (:

“I wait for the day that two shall become one for all eternity- I await it with all my heart.”

#no he gotta say some weird shit #he can't just 'hey how are ya'#ic #selectively open

Aftermath

The Trollhunter was exhausted. His body ached and his wounds burned. His face and armor were caked with oil and grime from the battle that had ensued. A million questions buzzed around in his head. Where did those robots come from? Who sent them? Could there be more waiting for him? How long before this nameless enemy would return? He kept his sword up and at the ready, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He was waiting to see if anything would happen. But as the morning sun soon became afternoon sun, there was nothing in the stillness of the woods. The fight was over.

The amulet fell from the boy’s chest with a clank and he dropped to his hands and knees. He was shaking with both relief and fear. Relief that the battle had ended. Fear that the enemy would return. Relief that he still had his life and he could return to his loved ones. Fear that he might lose it or them next time.

Collecting himself, Jim picked up the amulet and stood as he clutched his injured arm. He needed to return to Trollmarket. He needed to tell the other’s what had happened. To inform them of the new threat that now loomed over them. Over him. Letting out a shaky breath, he started the trek back to down.

#I was thinking of just making this a drabble #but if any of the Trollhunter characters want to get involved #feel free to reply #selectively open

Open to Mutuals

“Why does everybody keep asking me for a plan? Do I look like a guy with a freaking plan right now?!”

#open starter #open to mutuals #selectively open #i... had to use this gif in something #sorry not sorry

Captured, Not Dead

On November 2, 1983, Mary Winchester went to Hell. Azazel took her with him when he left the house. Down to his home in Hell. And that’s where she stayed. For so long she forgot what it was like to be on Earth. All she remembered was Azazel doing anything he wanted to her and with her. She resigned herself to spending the rest of eternity like that. Within a hundred years she had convinced herself that she deserved it. Within two hundred, she had given up any hope of being saved. This was her existence now. Azazel had told her many times that his intention wasn’t to break her, but to use her. As he put it, why break her when he could use her.

For over two thousand years, that was her existence. That was her life. Doing whatever Azazel told her to do. Letting him hurt her when he wanted to. Being tortured with visions of her family. She didn’t know how he did it, but Azazel even managed to show them growing up. It was slow, much slower than it should have been. But it happened.

And then one day, Azazel had a new job for her. To go with his children to Earth. She hadn’t been to Earth once in all of the time she’d been with Azazel. Apparently he finally thought she was broken enough not to run from him. She knew that time passed differently on Earth than it did in Hell, but it still surprised her when they arrived on Earth and only twenty-three years had passed.

Azazel’s daughter, possessing some woman named Meg, brought her to a warehouse and made her stand there while a vision of John spoke to both demons and her. She couldn’t make sense of what he was saying, though. He kept yelling at her to stop using his wife’s face. She couldn’t figure out what he meant though. She was his wife. Wasn’t she?

Next thing she knew, John was running away, and the demons told her to wait while they went to get him. Once they had him, they tied him to a bed. Azazel told her to wait in the corner by the bed, and to not say a word. She went to the corner obediently, remaining there even when Azazel went into John’s body, even when the alarms started to go off.

She only moved when the door burst open, glancing up before just as quickly dropping her eyes. Azazel was pretending to be knocked out, but from past experience, she knew that if she let her guard down and disobeyed him, the vision would be done and she would be punished. And as much as she hated these visions, the chance to see her boys was too good to pass up. And these were her boys. Sam and Dean, standing there in the doorway.

#selectively open #open #tw: slavery #tw: hell #tw: torture #tw: mentally broken

Open

“Uh. Run that by me again? You need a what so you can do what?”