#like yeah the trees near where my family has lived for thousands of year's know my true name the way only god can yes

[the-ghost-king]

anyhow been reading braiding sweetgrass and upstream and crying the past two days

#the holy divinity of nature is getting to me #there are so many bits I can mention but the dad pouring coffee out for the mountain in braiding sweetgrass really did it #id been turning that emotion over in my head for days and then to see it!! #like yeah the trees near where my family has lived for thousands of year's know my true name the way only god can yes #you know me and my father and his father and his father and his father and his and #...yeah. #yeah. #yup. #shut the fuck up ghost

[poptod]

The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them.  also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

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The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

#jack kline x reader #supernatural #spn #jack kline

[miracleonice87]

Thousand

a Tyler Seguin one shot

a/n: I’m back! Last week was busy for me and this one is, too, but I have three other WIPs coming up after this one within the next little bit, so stay tuned. also idk if anyone else watches One Tree Hill (I know Tyler does 😉) but his family gives me major Nathan, Haley, Jamie, and Lydia Scott vibes in this one.

summary: still playing for the Stars, Tyler is recognized for his 1,000th career game and celebrates with his wife (the reader), family and team.

warnings: husband and dad Tyler being cute with his family and becoming a slightly silver fox (I think that def deserves a warning); hint of a daddy kink lollll

_____

February 22, 2025

Dallas

“Mama! Can I wear my new jersey from Uncle Jamie? Please?”

You pursed your lips, fastening the back onto your emerald earring as you looked at your five-year-old son’s reflection behind you in the mirror. You turned away from your vanity to meet him at eye level.

“Baby, you should wear Daddy’s jersey tonight,” you told him gently, rubbing his back. “We’re celebrating a really big milestone for him, so he’s gonna be recognized out on the ice, and we’re gonna be there with him, remember? I know it would mean a lot to him if you wore his jersey.”

Luca pushed his bottom lip out just a smidge, pouting just like Tyler was famous for doing. You bit your own bottom lip to hold back a laugh.

“Okay. Well, can I wear Uncle Jamie’s next game?” Luca bargained.  

You smiled at his tenacity and smoothed your hand over his crisp white dress shirt that you’d laid out for him. You put your forehead to his and assured, “Absolutely.”

Luca perked up and stood a little straighter at your promise.

“Thanks, Mama,” he said. You kissed his cheek and said, “You’re welcome, baby. Thank you for understanding.” He nodded and turned to leave the room, presumably to pull a 91 jersey from the ever-growing collection in his closet. He stopped short and turned back to look at you.

“Hey, Mama?” he began. “Hmmm?” you prompted, trying to fasten your necklace and suddenly wishing you’d had Tyler put it on you before leaving — not only was he much more capable, but the way he always kissed the nape of your neck after securing the clasp made you melt each time.

Luca paused, smiling down at his sock feet before lifting his gaze to you again.

“I’m really happy for Daddy,” Luca said with a smile so sincere it made you melt. You were such a sap for these Seguin boys.

You nodded, choking back tears. “That’s sweet, baby,” you said. “I’m really happy for him, too.”

_____

An hour later, after dressing yourself, your son, and your two-year-old daughter, you pulled into the private parking area within the gates, Luca bopping up and down in his car seat, ever anxious to get inside the arena. The moment you unloaded both kids, they took off for the door to the arena.

“Luca Paul Seguin, slow down, please!” you instructed in your best mom voice, fumbling to throw both your purse and the diaper bag over your shoulders. “Hold onto your sister’s hand, bub,” you requested.

Luca smiled brightly and turned toward Harper, extending his hand toward his toddling little sister, who took it with a giggle. You finally caught up to the two of them and scooped up your daughter as you stepped onto the elevator, headed to the front office floor. When the doors opened, you were greeted by Tom Holy, the Stars’ VP of communications who had become a close friend over the years.

“Here are the real stars of tonight’s show!” he exclaimed, clapping his hands once, making you laugh. Luca ran to him for a hug and Tom playfully dusted off Luca’s little shoulders that now donned his favorite black Seguin jersey.

“Nice jersey, Luc! Hey, I gotta tell you, though, we have something else for you and your sister to wear tonight — if you want to,” he said.

You shot Tom a warning look as he produced a black tote bag from the reception desk, telling him, “You did not.”

He gave you a wink and said, “Do you know us at all by now? Of course we did.”

Much to Luca’s delight, Tom pulled two home green jerseys from the bag, with white 91’s printed on the back and sleeves and the “A” adorning each chest. But the nameplate didn’t hold your last name — instead, it read “DADDY,” with “1,000” printed below the jersey number. Luca jumped up and down with the jersey in his hands, while Tom handed the smaller jersey for you to dress Harper in.

“And we got a little something for you, too,” he added, reaching his hand into the tote bag once more. Your eyebrows shot up, caught off guard.

“Why me?” you questioned, feeling completely undeserving.

“Because, he says it himself all the time — he wouldn’t be the person he is without you,” Tom told you earnestly. “Tonight we’re celebrating all of you.”

He handed you a small black box and you froze for a moment before he extended it further, insisting that you accept it. You slowly grasped the box and pulled it open. Inside lay a pin nearly mirroring the style of lettering on the back of the kids’ jerseys, but instead it read “Seguin - 91 - 1,000,” encrusted in diamonds and emeralds.

You covered your mouth with curled fingers, attempting to steel yourself so that the waterworks wouldn’t commence just yet. You warmed inside at the incredible kindness of the gesture, giving Tom a hug.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said softly. “You guys are always first class.” He waved you off as you retrieved the pin from its box and fastened it on the lapel of your long black blazer, paired with a lacy camisole, jeans and black heels. You propped Harper on the desk to switch out her jersey for the new one, Luca having already made his own outfit change.

_____

In the tunnel, you had Harper on your hip and held tightly to Luca’s hand to prevent him from running to the ice and interrupting warm-ups. Your kids were used to standing at the boards where they could watch the guys drill and give their dad knuckles on the glass — where he could tap his blade in front of them each time he skated past. But not tonight. They might not realize it for years to come, but tonight would be even more special than watching their dad skate in front of them.

After a few minutes, you felt a hand come to rest on your shoulder — Jim Nill’s. You smiled at him and leaned in for a hug as he greeted you warmly and gave Luca a fist bump.

“And this little one…” he added, tapping Harper’s nose lightly as she grinned up at him. “She’s gotten so big. She’s too cute — you sure she really belongs to Segs?”

You laughed and remarked, “Pretty certain, yeah. If you saw her dramatic side, or how she is with the dogs, you’d see the resemblance.” It was Jim’s turn to chuckle.

Tom sidled up next to the two of you and advised you on how the presentation would go.

“So, we’ll roll out the carpet, and you guys will head all the way down to the end. Jim and Bones will follow. Tyler will come and stand next to you guys on the ice and then we’ll do the presentations,” he instructed. “That sound okay?”

You nodded and smiled at Tom. “Yeah, it sounds great. Honestly, I’m just a little nervous about holding onto these two so none of us fall on our asses,” you half-joked.

“Well, Gramma can help with that.”

At the sound of the familiar voice behind you, you spun around and gasped, while Luca exclaimed, “You’re here!”

There stood not only Jackie, but also Paul — the two were always willing to come together for momentous occasions in their children’s lives, especially now that you and Tyler had given them the gift of grandchildren, and you were grateful. You had had no idea that they were coming, even having spoken to Jackie the day before, asking her once more if she was sure she didn’t want you to book her a flight to Dallas.

Tears welled in your eyes as you shook your head, completely at a loss for word as they flanked you. You squeezed each of them tightly and whimpered, “Does Ty know?”

Paul shook his head. “He has no clue,” he responded. Jackie added, “And the girls are up in the suite already. They wanted to watch it all up there.”

You could only shake your head repeatedly, barely having time to recover before hearing the PA announcer ask the fans to turn their attention to the ice. You dabbed the corners of your eyes with your knuckle and passed Luca duty off to Jackie, keeping a hold on Harper yourself, as Tom smiled and winked at the five of you.

“Not even a warning, Tom?” you teased, sniffling. He chuckled and squeezed your shoulder.

“No way,” he remarked. “Your reaction was priceless.” You shared another smile before you saw Rick stepping onto the green carpet near the boards.

“Here we go,” you breathed, leading your in-laws out to the ice past Rick as directed, not without him stopping you to give you a kiss on the cheek, squeeze Harper’s hand, and pat Luca on the back.

You stepped carefully along the fabric-covered frozen surface, concentrating on a beaming Tyler before you, Harper already reaching her arms out for him as he waved at her. You knew immediately that there was no point in fighting her on wanting to be held by her daddy, so as soon as you reached the end of the carpet and gave Tyler a peck, you handed her off to him, Tyler kissing her rosy cheeks.

The crowd “awww’d,” but you could only concentrate on the dumbfounded expression Tyler wore upon looking up from Harper’s “Daddy 91” jersey to smile at you before noticing his parents only a few feet behind. Rarely, if ever, left speechless, Tyler was completely in shock.

Jackie came forward to reach for Tyler, singing, “Surprise!” as she threw her arms around his neck.

“Oh, my god. I can’t believe you guys are here,” Tyler finally said, his voice shaky. Jackie kissed his cheek and pulled away to wipe tears from her eyes.

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, son,” Paul assured as the two men embraced.

After thanking his parents, Tyler crouched down to greet his boy — practically his own self, in miniature.

“Cool jersey, bubba,” Tyler said, glowing with pride as he nudged Luca’s chest and squeezed his hand.

“It says ‘Daddy 91’ on it!” Luca pointed out. Tyler giggled boyishly and kissed Luca’s forehead. “It sure does, doesn’t it,” he said, Luca nodding.

Tyler stood upright once more, snaking an arm around your waist as you held onto Luca’s shoulders in front of you, smoothing his hair affectionately. Tyler then noticed your new pin, running the back of his index finger over it and commenting, “Wow. This is unbelievable.” You could only nod.

“You look beautiful, baby. But what, no ‘Daddy’ jersey for you?” he asked softly with an ornery grin, making your cheeks warm as you pushed your shoulder into his chest. You shared a quiet laugh and he kissed your temple, then the PA announcer turned over the floor to Jim.

“Stars fans, you all know better than most just how much this night means to our number 91,” Jim began. “We as an organization have watched him grow, both as a person and as a player, since his fourth year in the league. We have witnessed the way he has blossomed, from an outstanding young player into a seasoned veteran. Tyler Seguin has become one of the most prominent leaders of this franchise, and I know I can speak for all of us when I say that we could not be more proud to call him a member of our family.”

The crowd cheered, so loudly that Jim had to pause, Tyler blinking back tears as he squeezed your hand tightly and nodded to the fans appreciatively. Even Harper began to clap, making Tyler laugh and kiss her sweetly, sniffling when he looked back to the crowd.

“Tyler, we thank you for the role that you have played thus far during your time as a Dallas Star, we look forward to many years and celebrations to come, and we recognize you tonight for reaching another milestone in your career in the National Hockey League — 1,000 games. We are thrilled to have your lovely wife and your beautiful family here with us tonight to celebrate you. Now I invite our captain, your dear friend, Jamie Benn, to join us and present you with gifts from your teammates, then Rick and I will proudly present you with gifts on behalf of the organization.”

You had held your emotions together decently thus far, but when Jamie glided over to you with a huge bouquet of white roses in one arm and a small gift box in the other hand, you felt tears trickle down your cheek. Jamie stopped in front of your family, greeting you first. He gently grasped your shoulder and kissed your cheek as he placed the bouquet in your arms.

“For you,” he spoke. “Love you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for him — for all of us.” You nodded, reaching up on your tiptoes to wrap your arm around his neck and whisper a thank you of your own into his ear, Jamie smiling at you tenderly when he pulled away.

“And for this guy…” Jamie began, extending the black box, which you now could see was marked with the Rolex logo, Tyler’s way as Tyler wrapped his arm around Jamie, hugging him tightly, the two of them exchanging private words of gratitude. You swiped at your tears as you watched Jamie pull back to kiss Harper’s cheek, making her squeal with delight at the attention her favorite uncle was showing her.

You all laughed, and Jamie turned his attention next to his godson. He bent at the waist to look Luca in the face, his wide grin growing even bigger. Jamie held out his fist and the two engaged in their special shake and bake handshake, Jamie ruffling Luca’s chestnut brown curls atop his head as he stood straight again.

“Love you, buddy,” Jamie told Luca, extending his hand for a low-five. Luca slapped his palm and beamed up at his beloved uncle. “Love you, too,” he confirmed, Jamie winking at him.

Next, Rick approached and presented Tyler with a gorgeous crystal award, engraved with Tyler’s name, the Stars logo, and the date and statistics from his 1,000th game against St. Louis a few nights before. Jim gifted Tyler a silver hockey stick from the Stars organization to commemorate the occasion, and Tyler thanked them both profusely, hugging them as the PA announcer asked the crowd to now look to the scoreboard for a video tribute.

This was one part of the evening you had known was coming — Tom had arranged for you and the kids to be filmed congratulating Tyler on the actual night of his 1,000th game, in the wives and girlfriends suite. You had inquired about who else was being asked to be part of the video, and Tom rattled off the names of some of Tyler’s closest friends, current and former teammates, and most respected fellow athletes — his sisters, Freddy, Derrek, Marchy, Tom Brady, Rob Gronkowski, Jordan Spieth, Dak Prescott, and many of the Stars he had played with for multiple seasons all made appearances, including Jamie, who smiled at you as he skated behind you to watch.

“1,000 games. Did you ever think we’d all be here?” Jamie asked you softly as the video started, glancing Tyler’s way.

You, too, looked toward your husband, his face lifted to the Jumbotron, and you noticed the way his handsome features had only become more distinguished with age and the few grey hairs sprinkled near his ears and in his beard. He always groaned when you jokingly pointed them out, but you loved them — in your eyes, they told the story of his life as a man, his life as a hockey player, his life as a dad, his life with you. This occasion was just another chapter of Tyler’s dream come true — your dream come true.

You glanced back at Jamie and nodded, smiling. “Actually... yeah,” you answered, a hint of surprise in your tone. “I think I did.”

_____

Late that night, long after you’d put the kids to bed — with Luca having insisted on sleeping in his new jersey — you and Tyler lay cuddled up on the couch, wine glasses now empty on the end table, feet entangled on the ottoman. The gifts Tyler had received were propped on the mantle across from you, out of reach of children’s hands and dogs’ paws. Tyler kissed the top of your head, inhaling your scent deeply as you absentmindedly fiddled with the button on his loosened dress shirt collar.

“Are you happy?” you asked softly. Tyler breathed a chuckle. “I don’t think happy even begins to cover it,” he told you, smoothing his hands up and down your bare arms. “It’s more like… amazed. But it’s not even because of the 1,000th game.”

You rolled your head toward his to look up at him, meeting his gaze. “What do you mean, baby?” you asked.

He glanced at the new additions to his memorabilia collection and then back at you, the corners of his mouth twitching into a thoughtful smile.

“The ceremony was great. The best. I’ll remember that for the rest of my life,” he told you. “But what I’ll remember most is the way you looked, carrying the baby and just smiling at me walking onto the ice. And the moment I saw my parents with Luca between them.” Tyler’s voice quivered as he spoke, and you tightened your grip around his waist, laying your stomach against his to lean up and kiss his jaw. Tears shone in his eyes as he gave you a grateful look, pulling your hand to his lips to kiss your fingers.

“My career has been far better than I deserve,” Tyler added. “But what makes me the happiest is just getting to do life every day with you, and the babies. And my parents and sisters, too. I’m just really feeling blessed.”

As he sniffed, you pressed a kiss firmly to his lips and said, “Life with you is more than I could’ve ever wished for, Ty. Every day is like a celebration of the love you and I share. Everything else, like tonight — it’s just icing on the cake.” Tyler nodded, giving you one more kiss as he whispered his gratitude for you.

#tyler seguin #tyler seguin one shot #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin fanfic #tyler seguin fanfiction #tyler seguin fluff #seguin #tyler seguin imagine #hockey #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey one shot #hockeyblr #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #my writing #dallas stars #stars hockey #fluff #fanfiction #fic

[rainbowvamp]

Willow

Modern Reincarnation AU. Merlin and Lancelot go through a photo album. ~1700 words. Lancelot/Merlin. No warnings apply. (Mention of car wreck that killed Lancelot in a past life.)

A late birthday gift for Mod @little-ligi, because I couldn't have made this fest work without her. You're the best Ligi 💗

--

There’s no need to print photographs anymore. It’s easy enough to look at a screen and and flip through thousands, hundreds of thousands of images. But there has always been something special about choosing individual moments, perfect snapshots, and cataloging them into a book whose pages he can flip through. Merlin has been alive for over 1500 years. Books are one of the most familiar things he knows. One of the only things that hasn’t changed much in 1500 years.

People changed, clothes changed, transport changed, but not books. Those had remained nearly the same. You open the front cover and you look at what’s inside, just like always.

After 1500 years of adaptations, it was nice for this one thing to remain the same.

So when Lancelot hands him the photo album, Merlin is about to break his own face in half with how much he smiles at it. It’s a good thing, no a great thing, that Lancelot has done. The photo album is a deep forest green, the cover embossed with “The Book of Us.” In silver letters that Merlin traces with his fingers.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, almost unable to take his eyes off of the book.

“Today is the day we met in this life, 10 years ago. I thought it might be nice.” Lancelot’s voice is so sincere, that Merlin has to look at him, has to look at the face of the man that he has loved without end or conditions for 1500 years. Tears prick his eyes because of all the love he see’s in Lancelot’s.

“I love you.” Merlin’s voice is soft when he finally finds it, and Lancelot crushes him to his broad chest, giving him a stability Merlin didn’t even know he needed until he had it.

“And I you,” Lancelot kissed Merlin’s cheek and Merlin’s fingers itched to open the photo album, but he didn’t want to leave the circle of Lancelot’s arms. He’s content to just listen to soft sound of Lancelot’s breaths, feel the pounding of his heart against his chest.

It’s Lancelot who finally breaks the silence. “Would you like to see the photos, my love?” His voice is soft and nonjudgemental. It’s obvious to Merlin that either a yes or a no would be acceptable.

“Yeah,” Merlin finally says, composing himself to pull away and walk with Lancelot to the couch.

They sit and Lancelot waits patiently for Merlin to feel ready to open the book.

The first few pages cover the span of over a year, with so few pictures taken before Lancelot knew him, before he remembered. Several of them are pulled from Instagram, captions included. There’s one of an empty seat and a drained coffee cup, and the caption just reads “I think I’ve met the man of my dreams.” It’s from their first coffee date, Lancelot’s post-date instagram update. Merlin laughed aloud, almost having forgotten it. The next is a candid shot of Merlin. They’d taken a weekend holiday a few months into dating and gone for a hike. The sun was setting behind Merlin, blurring out his features, but the silhouette was so obviously him.

The next was one of Lancelot cooking breakfast, looking over his shoulder to smile curiously at the camera.

Then the first selfie they’d ever taken together, complete with Lancelot pressing a kiss to Merlin’s cheek.

The photographs become more numerous, after that. Some of them and all their friends. There’s the photoset from Morgana’s birthday party (She’d rented a photo booth “because why they hell shouldn’t I spend Uther’s money on bullshit?”) There’s the Christmas photos for the dinner they always throw at Merlin’s because Lancelot doesn’t have any living family to go home to. Arthur and Morgana pop by when Uther becomes insufferable. Gwen and Elyan bring their father by to say hi. Leon stops by with gifts on his way to Mithian’s parent’s house. All these silly little moments caught on camera and made eternal, printed and carefully organized.

There’s the set they took at their third anniversary, a gift from Gwen and Arthur (who had recently gotten their heads out of unsavory places and started dating). There’s the picture of he and Gwaine standing side be side, smiling like old friends despite having just met twenty minutes ago. Merlin has a bruise forming on his cheek, but he’d insisted Lancelot take picture, to commemorate. “It’s not everyday I get in a bar fight, my love. Humor me.” And Lancelot always did.

There’s the terrible sledding disaster of 2015, where Merlin had crashed straight into a tree, and had been having too much fun to stop it with his magic. This is a still from a video, shortly before the actual disaster occurred. By the time the disaster was eminent Lancelot was no longer filming.

There’s the pictures he and Lancelot used to sneak of each other, just to have. Lancelot watching tellie. Merlin having a nap on the couch. Lancelot unclogging the sink. Merlin folding laundry. There was no rhyme or reason, then, for why they took the photos. It was a fun phase, each feeling challenged to take the most mundane pictures, always followed by a faked whining or griping.

There’s the picture of them from two years ago, in tailored suits, surrounded by friends, making their vows, followed by a series of all their friends dancing. A professional photographer had taken these photos, but Merlin always preferred the less polished pictures he and Lancelot took themselves that day.

Like the one Merlin had taken of Lancelot after he’d shoved cake in his face. Or Gwen’s candid picture of them gazing at each other like the biggest idiots in love.

Merlin doesn’t know when he started to cry, but he feels a tear roll down his face only when Lancelot pushes it away.

“I hope these are happy.” Lancelot puts his arm around him and Merlin nuzzles his shoulder. It’s enough, right now, to feel his warmth and smell his soap and just be near him. It’s grounding in a way only Lancelot ever was. The years with Lancelot, and there always seemed to be so many fewer of those than years without him, always made him feel the most alive. The most loved. The memories of Lancelot were good, but they didn’t sustain him, not like this would.

“Come here.” Merlins said, wiping his face and standing suddenly. He takes Lancelot’s hand and leads him out to the car.

“Where are we going?” He asked as they buckled the seat belts, but Merlin just shook his head.

“I want to show you something.”

—

The self storage place they pull up to is one of the last things Lancelot expects.

“Come on.” Merlin gets out and Lancelot dutifully follows, just like always. He lets Merlin take his hand again and watches as he pulls out a key ring that Lancelot’s never seen before and flips through them.

‘I put everything away, every time I meet one of you.” Merlin explains. “I used to have to keep the houses, to keep the things, but these are more secure.” He finally finds the key he needs as they stop outside a storage unit. “This one is from when we lived in the 1960s. Found you in Wales, then, of all places.” He smiled wanly. “We had 10 years together before you died in 1968. Car wreck.”

Lancelot only ever remembers bits of pieces of his past lives, normally only the good bits. “You weren’t with me, I presume?”

Merlin laughed as he wrenched the storage room door open. “You wouldn’t let me.”

“Is that why you never let me ride in a car without you now?”

“Part of it. I also just don’t like to be away from you.” Merlin flicked a light on and Lancelot was surprised by the sheer volume of things that existed in the room. “This was all of your things. I usually give myself about a year to wallow before I pack it away. If it’s here I never have to forget it, but I can still come and see it, if I need to.” He drags Lancelot to the back. On a wire rack there are plastic containers that looks like they’ve been taped shut. Merlin mutters a quick spell to remove the taping and then digs through the box. There are books, folders, papers, but then Merlin pulls out a photo album.

“I want you to see this. Because… I don’t know. It feels important.” Merlin is a very very old man, but he still doesn’t always have all the answers. Sometimes he just has to trust his gut and hope for the best.

He takes the album gently. It doesn’t smell stale the way old books usually do, most likely due to Merlin’s magic, but he flips it open anyway, without question. The first picture is of him and Merlin, a different him, but the same Merlin, Merlin’s arm is slung over him and they’re posing much more like a happy couple than a pair of friends. “Who took this?” He asked, tracing the lines of Merlin’s face. He looks so much older here than the Merlin he knows.

“Elyan. He liked photography. Took well to most of the Arts that life, actually.” Merlin smile and flipped a few pages to show Lancelot a picture of Elyan with a painting. “Abstraction was sort of the thing, then. He does a good job of it.”

“I don’t know anything about art, but it’s very compelling.” Even in the dreamy old photo, which was saying quite a lot.

“I brought it, a few years after he died. It’s in one of the other units.”

“How many of these do you have?” Lancelot asked, turning the page and almost laughing aloud at the image of Gwaine holding Arthur in a headlock. The two of them never changed, apparently.

“Just a couple. There are quite a lot of units in each building.”

“You own this building?”

“I’ve been alive for 1500 years, my love.” Merlin kisses his cheek and Lancelot closes the album. “I have a lot of stuff.”

“We’re taking this with us.”

“That was always the intent.” Merlin closes the box and spells the tape back into place. “That was a gift from you, too, actually, birthday present.”

“I’m predictable.”

Merlin laughed and wrapped an arm around Lancelot, tilting his head up to kiss his forehead. “You’re sentimental, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulled Merlin’s head back down to kiss hims squarely on the lips, making Merlin finally pause for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. “Neither would I.”

#mercelot #merlance #minimercelotweek2021 #day 5: gift #I was gonna write a fill for Thursday based on stuff I knew you liked but yesterday was a wash for writing #but maybe I'll get to it before the end of mercelot week anyway 👀 #mmw2021fill

[tarteausuga]

Home for Christmas

CW: just pure fluff, really. As fluffy and as soft as snow but not as cold. Idol! Mark Lee x reader. Johnny's there too but just as support.

WC: 3.3K

Summary: in which you're alone for Christmas and Mark tries to give you a gift to make you feel less sad.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everyone. Happy holidays if you don't celebrate Christmas. I hope you're all happy, healthy and safe. I'll also be taking a break from TBTC next week and posting something for New year's ✌️

Long distance relationships were hard but they had their good sides as well as bad. One good thing is that you had a lot of time for yourself but on the bad side, you often felt lonely whenever you're out and see people with their significant others. You never really had to spend money on dates but conversely, you never had a chance to go out and show off your boyfriend in public. The time difference often made it hard for you to talk but neither of you ever missed out on your calls.

Mark would call you first thing in the morning when you woke up. It would be midnight to him but luckily, he was a night owl and didn't mind keeping you company while you got ready for your day. Then, you would go about your day before calling him at 5pm, 9am his time, to do the same for him. He often spent his mornings at home before heading to the studio for practice or to write so it was ample time to catch up and just talk about random things. He liked to watch you cook and he often would watch something in Netflix with you. Sometimes you were lucky enough to have him talk you to sleep, or sing you a song he's been working on to send you off into your dream world.

It sounds perfect in a way. You're both able to focus on your lives during the day because the other is safely asleep but you craved the physical aspects. You wanted to be held, you wanted to hold his hand, hell you just wanted to eat a meal with him sitting across from you at the table instead of on a little screen.

The past year and a half has been spent like this. You were childhood friends, growing up together before he moved overseas. You often spent recess running around together and sharing snacks. He wasn't necessarily your best friend, but he was one of the few friends you had growing up and even to this day. It's not that you weren't social but you just preferred being by yourself a lot. You kept in touch with the few friends you did have and that was all you really needed.

It was a surprise to run into him given the circumstances on both ends. He was an incredibly talented and relatively famous Idol in another country; and you moved across the country for school but ended up staying there after landing a good job. You were aware that he would be performing with his group but it wasn't your scene. And you couldn't get tickets anyway since they sold out almost instantly.

Out on your lunch break, you were grabbing a midday iced coffee. But you were trying to juggle setting up meetings and calls with a few important people so you weren't really paying attention when you went to grab the coffee, thinking it was yours.

"Oh I'm sorry." Both you and the owner of that drink said.

Finally, you looked up from your phone at the man and for some reason, you had a feeling of familiarity with him. After squinting your eyes and trying to go through your roledex of people you've encountered in your life, your brain finally figured it out. "Mark?" You say with bewilderment.

"Oh my god! It is you!" He pulled you into an extremely tight hug. "I saw you but I couldn't really tell and I didn't want to go up to a random stranger." He laughed and you couldn't help but do the same. Mark always had that effect on people, he would laugh or smile and no matter who he was with, they would do the same.

"What are you doing here?" You ask, somehow completely forgetting that he was due to perform the next day, which he reminded you of. "Oh! That's really exciting." If you were honest, you were distracted by how he's grown up. He used to be this cute boy that you would trade your fruit snacks for cookies with. But now he was incredibly handsome but still had those captivating eyes that could make you melt.

"This is amazing, I can't believe we ran into each other like this." He pulled you into another hug that brought a blush across your face. You were in a daze as he introduced you to the 2 other guys with him but you didn't really catch their names. You just noticed that they were also incredibly handsome. "But hey, if you're free tonight, we should catch up!" You agreed, thankfully.

And you could say the rest was history but beyond that one fateful day/night, you haven't seen Mark. A full year and a half later, you were entering your second Christmas without him but unfortunately, you weren't able to go home to your family to distract yourself from the boy you wanted to be with during the holidays. Not usually the type to be into overly romantic gestures, you uncharacteristically were craving the experiences that couples usually had in the movies. Your sisters told you countless times to stop watching Hallmark Christmas movies but you really couldn't help it when there was nothing else to watch on TV.

December 23rd. You were staring at your miniature Christmas tree that you had bought for your small apartment. The rest of your apartment was fully decorated in an effort to fill the emptiness you felt but it didn't seem to help much beyond wishing that Mark were there to experience it with you.

It was a perfect Christmas, the snow was falling outside and you reminisced about that rare snow day you had in your West coast town. That day was incredible. It was Christmas Eve and the whole city shut down due to the influx of white that they rarely had to deal with. Mark had banged on your door and begged your parents to let you go out and play despite it being Christmas Eve. That day was spent building snowmen, having snowball fights and everything before everyone went home and passed out to wake up to a white Christmas.

Mark had expressed to you that he missed that the most. Those snow days where everything shut down and you could just go out and be free to run around and have fun. You wished to be able to send some snow to him. But instead, you called him.

"Hi baby, how are you?" He said in a gravely voice as he had just woken up.

"I'm okay, just miss you a lot." You pouted and he copied your expression. "But look!" You showed him the view outside your window, including the snow capped trees and pillows of white on any surface it could cling on.

"Oh my god, that's beautiful." He sighed. "I wish I could be there to see it with you. I hate that you're alone this year for Christmas."

"It's okay." You flash a weak smile. "My coworker is going to drop off some food for me from her parents. I'll just have a Harry Potter marathon."

"Okay. I'll join you for that." He smiles. "My present for you should be showing up soon. I hope it gets there before the 25th."

"Hard to say. Doesn't matter if it does or not, I'm just happy to get something from you." You ease him of his worries. He often got worked up over the smallest things and you found it cute the way he would furrow his eyebrows in frustration only to breathe a sigh of relief when you told him to do so. You were his comfort and he was yours. Even if you were thousands of miles apart.

"I have to get going, love. I'll talk to you later okay?" He says and you are confused as he usually never has nice to do before noon. But you shrugged it off and assumed he just had some year end things to work on.

"Yeah I'll talk to you later. I love you." You blew him a kiss and he did the same before hanging up.

To be honest with yourself, you were starting to hate saying goodbye. Your heart would feel so heavy whenever a call ended and recently, that feeling got worse and worse with every call. Things were starting to feel like they were all for nothing. You trusted Mark and knew him well enough to know you were the only one that would be on his mind but that physical aspect was something you were craving. The simplest things like just being in the same room while you were both quietly working on your own things, exchanging loving glances every so often.

You dozed off watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and was woken up on Christmas Eve by the blinding white of the snow capped exteriors. Confused, you searched for your phone to check the time: 9:27. Mark has never failed to call you at 8AM every single day. It was your routine. It was your ritual. You send him a message but his phone doesn't even receive it. Is his phone off? You ask yourself. He did sound a bit off yesterday… Or was he just tired and groggy? Maybe he's having a late night in the studio. He said he didn't have anything scheduled for a few days though. In an effort to mitigate your panic, you throw your phone to the other side of your bed.

Forcing yourself to roll out of bed and make some coffee to try to dull some of the panic you were feeling. He wouldn't just ice me out on Christmas Eve. He's probably just tired and fell asleep before he could call, you convinced yourself.

It was nearing lunch time and you still didn't hear from your boyfriend. You had spent the morning curled up on the couch watching Disney Channel Original Christmas Movies, trying to distract yourself but every time something romantic happened, you sighed and wished for Mark. His phone still wasn't receiving your messages. Had his phone died?

In desperation, you text the only other person you knew who was close with him: Johnny. You had met Johnny that day that you ran into Mark but never processed it until you began watching their performances on YouTube. Mark had given you Johnny's number so you could apologize for ignoring him but you would occasionally ask him for favours. Usually asking him to get something for Mark from you. He often said, "I only do this because I love Mark and you love Mark."

You [11:34AM]: Hey Johnny? Are you awake?

You [11:34AM]: Merry Christmas, by the way!

It was almost 4AM so you would be surprised if he was still awake but he often stayed up late with Haechan so you figured it was worth a shot.

Johnny [11:39AM]: what's up?

Johnny [11:38AM]: Merry Christmas to you too :)

You [11:40AM]: is Mark okay? I haven't heard from him since last night. I'm getting worried.

You watched as Johnny's message bubble appeared and disappeared a few times. He was hesitating…

Johnny [11:42AM]: he's fine. You'll probably hear from him soon ;)

You [11:42AM]: ?? What's that supposed to mean?

Johnny simply replied with a shrug emoji and you wished you could send a punch through a text message. But you sighed and continued sipping on your hot apple cider as you pressed play on another movie. Johnny doesn't lie so I'll believe him for now.

You had somehow fallen asleep and you only realized when you felt your phone buzzing next to you. Without even checking the caller ID, you press the green answer button and put it on speaker as you tried to pull yourself out of the afternoon nap haze.

"Hello?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"Hey baby, sorry I've missed your messages. Johnny said you were worried about me?" Mark's voice shook you awake. You scrambled to sit up before picking up your phone and taking it off speaker to hear him more clearly.

"Mark? Are you okay?"

He simply laughed, "I'm okay babe. I'm sorry for worrying you." He apologized again.

"No, it's okay. I was just worrying over nothing. What were you doing?"

"I was at the airport." He said and you could tell there was something up by the tone of his voice. Mark could never lie to you even if he tried.

"And?"

"And I need you to come pick me up." He teased and you became even more confused which made you a bit upset as you didn't like being led on.

"Mark I can't, you're in another country." You roll your eyes even though he can't see.

"Baby, I'm not. I'm here." And it finally clicked in your head.

"Wait! You're here? Like here? Like in the same city?" You try not to scream.

"Yes, exactly. I wanted to surprise you better but the snow delayed things…"

"It's okay I'll come now!" You practically yell into the phone.

"Drive carefully!" He warned you before hanging up.

Like a tornado, you tried to clean up your apartment so your boyfriend didn't think you were a complete slob. At the same time, you were trying to pick out a cute outfit and do your hair in an effort to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

With your best effort, you shrugged when you checked yourself in the mirror before pulling on your parka and heading out the door. As your car warmed up, you reminded yourself that Mark had seen you at your literal worst. From the late night mental breakdowns to a hungover morning from having a few too many drinks with your coworkers, Mark had seen it all and always assured you that you looked amazing. Maybe he was lying a few times during those moments but he never made you feel like you were anything less than perfect for him.

You did your best to drive calmly to the airport. There wasn't much of a choice as the other cars on the road were also trying to get to their destinations safely so traffic was moving at a slower pace. After what seemed like the longest car ride you've ever taken, you pulled into a parking stall at the airport and checked your phone to see that Mark had sent you the gate he was at, waiting for his luggage. You practically sprinted across the parking lot and road, having a few close calls with other pedestrians and a few cars. But you couldn't help yourself. You were finally getting to see him.

Arriving at his gate, you tried to catch your breath as you scanned the crowd around the baggage carousel looking for Mark. When the two of you finally made eye contact, you burst through the crowd and jumped into his arms. You thought you would tackle him down but he was surprisingly strong and not only caught you but picked you up, allowing your legs to wrap around him like a koala baby. People aw'd and some even clapped while others pulled out their phones to candidly capture your reunion.

"You're here." You choked back tears, breathing in his scent and making sure you locked it up in your memory for future use.

"I'm here." He breathed into your ear which triggered the tears to start falling. He placed you back on your feet but steadied you in the warmth and safety of his arms. He chuckled while he wiped your tears away, "why are you crying?"

"I don't know, I just missed you so much." You sniffled while looking up at him with wet eyes. It's been so long that you had forgotten that he was taller than you by more than a few centimeters. So when he leaned down to kiss you, you were surprised but also extremely comforted as a wave of warmth filled up the emptiness in your heart.

"My little crybaby." He placed another kiss on your forehead.

You clung on to each other until his suitcase dropped down from the chute. Hand-in-hand, you led him to your car. Amazingly, you navigated the whole way there while beaming up at Mark the whole time. He reciprocated but occasionally pulled you to the side to avoid running into someone else.

The car ride back to your apartment was just full of you two talking about anything and everything. From when he planned all of this and how he managed to get out of his activities to Johnny almost ruining the surprise when he struggled to say something that would both ease your worries but not let you in on the secret. The whole time, Mark's hand was on your thigh as you needed both hands to properly manoeuvre your car through the snow. You sometimes caught Mark looking outside with pure wonder and amazement as he took in the image of the city blanketed by the snow. The smile on your face never left as you tried to process every moment with him to keep in your memories.

"So how long are you staying?" You say as you take the elevator up to your apartment. His arm was wrapped around your shoulders and you had a feeling that your boyfriend who was usually uncomfortable with physical attraction, wouldn't keep a hand off of you the whole time he was there.

"I have to leave the day after Christmas." He says quietly.

Trying not to be upset by the short time together, you reminded yourself that it was better than nothing. "We'll make it work." You say simply to him while learning up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Mark felt overwhelmed by your apartment. The moment he stepped in, he was greeted by the sweet scent of vanilla and oranges. He tried to take as many mental notes as he could while walking around and taking in every single detail of your place. This was your home and he felt like every little knick-knack strategically placed by you was a piece of you.

"Here." You handed him a cup of apple cider to warm up.

"Thank you." He added a kiss to your temple. Suddenly remembering something, he let out a little gasp before placing his cup down on the coffee table and going to his backpack. He pulled out a box wrapped in red paper and a golden bow that was slightly flattened from its journey to the other side of the world to you.

"What's this?" You ask when he places it in your hands, taking a seat next to you.

"Just open it." He smiles. The excitement was practically bursting from him as he anticipated you opening the box.

"Your gift is probably on the doorstep of your mom's place right now." You sighed.

"It's okay baby, I can't wait to open it but just open yours now." He said.

The lid lifted to reveal a necklace with a delicate golden chain and a little purple gem dangling from it. "Mark…" you coo, your eyes welling up with tears again.

"Are you going to cry again?" He laughs and you playfully poke his side. "I know purple is your favourite colour… It's not much but I thought you'd like it." He said softly while he fixed it around your neck. You smiled up at him before you situated yourself in his lap, straddling his thighs.

"It's perfect." You kiss him, "what else did you get me?" You pull back when he tries to deepen the kiss.

"What do you mean?" He stared blankly at you.

"You said it's not much so where's the rest of my present?" You say mischievously.

"You said it's perfect but you want more?" He cocks an eyebrow up.

"Well… I haven't seen you in a year and a half, there has to be more." You tease.

"I'm your present aren't I?" He smirks, grabbing the bow from the box and sticking it onto his head.

"I guess…" you laugh while leaning in to kiss him again. "You're lucky you're cute." You say as he stands up, making sure to wrap your legs around him before turning towards your bedroom.

#nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct blurbs #nct blurb #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark Lee fluff #mark Lee imagine #nct mark fluff #nct mark imagine #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #kpop blurbs #kpop scenarios

[thenightgazer]

A Long Way Home

While still trapped in the Underworld, Dante and Vergil have to resolve their family issue. One that can't be solved only by swords and guns.

It's been two years since Red Grave incident, one week after Christmas, and still no news about Dante and Vergil. That leaves Nero terribly upset, but little did he know that miracle will come to him very soon.

Merry Christmas @nibbbs! Surprise surprise, I’m your secret santa from @dmcsecretsanta! Hopefully you enjoy the gift I wrote for you! Happy reading and happy holiday!

You can also read it on my AO3!

~~~

The Underworld has never been this quiet before.

That forsaken place is the real no man’s land; always boisterous with fights between demons to take over the throne of the Underworld. Be it a slaughter between lower demons or higher demons, they couldn’t care less. Their primal instinct is just craving more power and of course, human flesh. But since the portal to cross into the human world isn’t always unfolded, cannibalism is ineluctable. It’s either eat or be eaten. It’s bound to happen and demons don’t have any choices but to yield to the Underworld’s natural law. Surviving and escaping the Underworld seems like an absurd fantasy for humans, even for demons as well.

Which is why voluntarily jumping into the depth of the Underworld to save the world is considered to be a valiant and honorable act, yet also frivolously lunatic.

Well, for Dante, lunatic sounds like his middle name, if he ever had one.

He chuckles by the thought of that.

“What are you laughing at?” Dante’s problematic twin brother Vergil snarls.

“Nothing,” Dante closes his eyes. “Just having a weird thought.”

Vergil replies nothing. He shows no interest in Dante's daydream, but that’s just probably because he’s too tired to even think of a reply. The twins couldn’t count how many days have passed since they cut the Qliphoth tree down. They spared and killed any demons nearby, exploring other regions of the Underworld simply because they are bored and need some time to rebound their lost time as brothers. Now, exhaustion forces them to take some rest. They lean side by side on the scorched desert, staring at the perpetual black sky while restoring their energy.

Dante can sense a demon’s presence not too far from where he is right now, but that presence fades eventually. “You feel that too, Verge?”

“I do,” Vergil murmurs. “The words have been spoken, I presume. That they better not to disturb us if they still want to live.”

“Well, once we recover, they’re going to die anyway.”

Vergil’s short hum speaks of his concurrence.

Dante shifts his hands under his head as he glances to his brother. Vergil stiffly lies on the ground with Yamato on his chest while his hands gripping on it. He might close his eyes but Dante knows his brother can still attack his opponent while closing his eyes. As hard as a steel, this old bastard, Dante amuses at his idea. “Rest means relaxing, bro. You don’t have to be on guard all the time.”

“I’m preparing for any attack.”

“It’s not like there is a demon near us at this moment.”

“Have some self-consciousness, Dante. You could attack me at any time, given a chance.”

Dante wakes up straight away. “Why would I wanna attack you?!”

“There’s always a possibility.”

“Says the guy who always has the intention to kill me, huh,” Dante lies back again. “Seriously, Verge. Just for five minutes, stop thinking and go to sleep. Bet it’s been a while since you have a proper sleep, right?”

Neither show any agreement or disagreement, Vergil turns his head to Dante. “Why are you still awake then?”

“Huh? To keep an eye on you, of course. Who knows you’d do some weird shit outta there again.”

Vergil curves a smirk, then turns his eyes to the dark sky again. “I see. You are also scared of me attacking you while you’re asleep, aren’t you? We’re twins, after all.”

“I don’t-” Dante almost bite his mouth.. “Man, you’re as sharp and annoying as you always have been.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Yeah right.”

And there’s silence again. It’s been days, or weeks, since the last time Dante hears any demonic voices around him. To be honest, he kind of expects their appearance. He likes talking to Vergil, but the older brother has an issue in healthy communication. Hell, Vergil is a difficult person and Dante wonders if the eldest children around the world are always like this. But Dante realizes he is also no expert in social interaction, and fighting is also the only thing they both are good at. Vergil would talk a little bit much when fighting, even if it’s mostly taunting and mocking Dante, yet it’s better than having Vergil succumb to the dark side again.

“By the way,” Dante breaks the ice. “Are you ready now to tell me who’s the lucky girl a.k.a Nero’s mom?”

Vergil draws the Yamato above Dante’s throat. “One more word, and I’ll cut you into pieces.”

“C’moooon! I’m curious!”

The Yamato is now touching Dante’s skin. “Final warning, Dante.”

Dante flicks the Yamato’s blade. “Fine. Whenever you’re ready, bro. You might not want to tell me, but you owe that to Nero. He’s your son. He deserves to know.”

Vergil sheathes Yamato, scoffing at Dante’s warning. “It’s not like I’m going back to the human world.”

“Well, we HAVE to!”

“Pray tell why I should agree with you.”

“I have a shop to run and there’s a new menu at my favorite pizza parlor. You should try it, by the way. And you got a lot to explain to Nero. You don’t wanna be a deadbeat like Father, right? Though you kinda already are all this time.”

“You know it better than anyone else that I didn’t know Nero’s existence until you told me so.”

“Which is more reason why you have to come back to the human world soon. You can say you don’t need to catch up with Nero but I know you want it. You left him your frigging book; the same one you didn’t allow me to borrow. Dear ol’ Vergil got some soft spots for his son, huh?”

Vergil turns his back from Dante like a sulking child, ignoring his younger twin’s laughter. As expected from a cold man like him, he won’t ever admit that every single of Dante’s words is true. Again, a long and neglected fear consumes him. What’s fatherhood for a man who ran out of place and time like him anyway? Is there any chance for him to fix his family? Getting back in terms with Dante is one thing, but with Nero, the son he had never met before his escapement from the Underworld? Does he even have a right to call him his son after all he had done to him?

After quite long of silence and battle with himself, Vergil murmurs a question to Dante. “How old is he?”

Dante almost squealed if only he didn’t remember not to ruin Vergil’s mood or else they won’t have any friendly conversation anymore. “Nero? Twenty-something, I guess. Haven’t asked him myself.”

“How did you meet each other?”

“Long short story, some weird-ass cult that worshipped our father as a god turned out evil and wanted to use our father’s power to rule the world-”

“The Order of the Sword?”

“Right! You did your research! Nero was one of them but rebelled after they kidnapped his girlfriend and killed her brother. I came to Fortuna to retrieve the Sparda sword and apparently your kid was able to summon the Yamato and I got the picture already. He got white hair, he summoned Yamato, tried to kill me repeatedly, stab me with Rebellion and Yamato, craving for more power to save his beloved. I wondered where he got that from, by the way~”

A hint of smirk curves in Vergil’s mouth.

“Then we worked together to save Fortuna from a pope who was obsessed with our Father and destroyed the island. We succeeded and brought peace. Nero got his girlfriend back, and we established the branch of Devil May Cry in Fortuna. The end.”

“A heartwarming, and very unoriginal story.”

“You think I made up that story?”

“Didn’t say that. I am merely implying that I heard stories similar to your experience.”

“Hell knows you are the coldest person alive, but you are a terrible liar. You are a man of pride, after all. Lying doesn’t suit you.”

“I can tell thousands of lies as I please, if only that’s necessary,” Vergil takes a brief look at Dante’s mischievous face. “But I won’t, if it’s concerning my son.”

Is this really the Vergil I used to know? Dante can’t hold his grin while elbowing his brother. “Starting to feel like a real dad, huh?”

“Silence.”

“Admitting that you love your son won’t do any harm, Verge.”

“I-” Vergil stumbles upon his own words. He growls impatiently, hurrying himself to get up and sit down as he wipes his face frustratedly. “We’re not having this conversation anymore.”

“Why? Just because you can’t admit that you grew care for your son?”

“Because I’m a terrible person!”

That was the most honest words that came from Vergil, if anything, ever. When was the last time he showed his vulnerable side like this? Even as V, crumbling and dying slowly, he didn’t even spare Dante any sign of defeat and regret. Dante gets up, clapping Vergil’s shoulder. “Only if you still want to destroy the world and kill your own family, then maybe I’d call you the worst shit in the world too.”

Vergil shakes his head. “If only…”

“Huh?”

“Had I known I have a son back then…” Vergil says bitterly. “I would never leave him. I would never go pursuing power or raising that foolish tower and this ridiculous tree…” he points to the remains of Qliphoth tree with his sword. “I would have a better chance to be… a good father for him…”

Regret always comes late, isn’t it? The ‘if onlys’ never come at the front of the mind, merely whispering behind the head but never appearing into the surface before regret comes. Vergil knows that, but never really understands it until Dante tells him that Nero- the very man whose arm was ripped by him and still willing to help him in every way- is his own flesh and blood. His priority was to seal the gate of the Underworld and cut the Qliphoth tree, so that Nero and the rest of the human world are safe and sound. He will stay in the Underworld to redeem himself, for he thinks he has no place in the human world for all he has done. He planned to create a portal to the human world after he fixed things up with Dante to kick him out from the Hell with force, because he knows Dante won’t leave him alone again and will do anything to drag Vergil out from the Underworld. The plan is simple. It should have been easy to execute.

Yet ever since Vergil landed at this hellhole, his steps are getting heavier as time goes on. A haunting voice inside his head kept telling him to come back to Nero as soon as he finished his job cutting Qliphoth roots. Another sound tells him he should stay longer here with Dante to catch up with their sibling bound. The third sound, more demanding and urging, tells him to stay in the Underworld forever as a redemption.

“Y’know, bro,” Dante folds his legs as he seizes the Yamato from Vergil’s hand and puts it on the ground, which dismays Vergil. “Gotta admit that I wanted to kill you because I wanted to free you from evil, and get rid of Nero’s burden of having you as his father. Though he proved to us that we are just a bunch of nonsensical idiots who got unsolved sibling problems between us-”

“I am not an idiot!”

“You might have scored higher on the Math test than me but you’re still an idiot!” Dante barks. “Anyway that’s not my point! What I mean to say is, as much as I hate your dumb-as-rock head, you’re still my brother. And it’s never too late to fix things up.”

Vergil scoffs and takes his sword back to his embrace again. “How can you be so sure?”

“I blamed you, y’know, for that day” Dante admits, his eyes getting darker and the carefree vibe in his voice is gradually gone. “For not rescuing me and Mother.”

Vergil streaked at that confession. “What do you mean?”

“You thought Mother only saved me and left you behind while she died searching for you,” Dante woefully chuckles. “But for me, on that day, I thought you would come to rescue us.”

“I was planning to-”

“She could have hid with me in the closet until you come to save us. That’s what I thought back then when she died, and you never came back. I thought you left us, before I heard one of them say they had you killed. There I was; frightened and thinking that I was alone. My mother and brother died. No one could save me but myself. I was blaming you for running away that day. If you didn’t, we could have defeated them all and protected our home.”

“Or, we could have died. All of us.”

“Exactly. Instead of blaming you, I blamed myself for picking a fight with you. Should’ve left you and your book alone,” Dante stands up, spinning the Ivory before shooting a flying demon that approaches them. “I lived by loathing myself, until I met you again in that cursed church, remember? I was genuinely happy to see you.”

“I remember,” Vergil nods slowly, recalling a blurry picture of their younger selves. “You said you are a devil hunter and will be filthy rich someday.”

“Still waiting for that day, actually. Yet you fucker started being a dick, saying shits about power and stuff,” Dante’s harsh voice trembles slightly. “I thought we could start over as a family, but you decided to fucking stay in the Underworld. I couldn’t save you at the gate of the Underworld. I couldn’t save you at Mallet Island. I could save everyone else, but not my own family.”

Vergil raises up. His arm is reaching Dante’s shoulder, but it never touches him. His hesitation is rational, for he knows words can’t describe how Dante must have felt towards Vergil. Hatred might be the wrong word; it sounds too soft. Too lenient, too merciful.

One could tell it’s disappointment, Vergil gets his answer as Dante turns over to face him. The mischievous little brother side of Dante has gone as he aims his gun at Vergil. It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend. Let alone a family.

Dante wails horridly. “Always the quiet one, ain’t cha? Remember how our parents always told me to be quiet like you? ‘Why can’t you just behave like Vergil?’ Guess what? At least I’m not the one who fucked the world up and ripped off my son’s arm-”

“Dante-”

“Shut the fuck up!” Dante’s grip on Ivory is slightly trembling as he snaps. “I’ve been through shits too, Vergil. I missed Father and Mother. I missed you, for fuck sake! After all this time I believed I killed you in Mallet Island, then you came out of nowhere to destroy the world. I came out with the conclusion that you didn’t even change a bit, just an egomaniacal who thinks the world only revolves around him. I needed to kill you again because I don’t want my nephew to kill his own father. Don’t you fucking realize how maddening was that?!”

A bullet passes through Vergil’s head. The older hybrid stands still without any intention to return the attack, only wiping the blood from his forehead. I don’t have the right to be irritated, he reminds himself while his mouth forms a bitter grimace as Dante puts the gun on Vergil’s forehead, ready to pull the trigger anytime soon. For a second Vergil can sense Dante is going to lose his temper as he catches a glimpse of red flash in Dante’s eyes. Ever since they were kids, Vergil was always aware that Dante in his total wrath is dangerous. A ticking bomb , Vergil recalls what their father said about Dante’s anger as he watches the raging fire in Dante’s eyes ignite until it’s slowly fading.

“But I changed my mind again,” Dante continues. “Instead of blaming you and carrying on the bad blood, I choose to start over. And that’s how I can be sure,” he pokes Vergil’s head with the gun before putting it back into his coat. “That everyone deserves a second chance and it’s never too late to fix what you have done.”

The red devil yawns as he slams himself on the ground again, stretching his hands before he closes his eyes. “Sorry for raising my voice. It’s just impossible to use soft words whenever I’m talking to a stubborn jackass like you.”

He opens one of his eyes to see what Vergil would react. His older brother sighs heavily, sitting beside Dante’s lying body and puts his katana on the ground. For a man with a soul of a true warrior like Vergil, putting weapons down on the ground is a sign of defeat. Which is the reason why he was slightly aggravated when Dante seized the Yamato and put it on the ground as if he told Vergil to surrender. It should be a humiliating act, but for once Vergil throws his pride away.

Because you are right, Dante.

“Dante,” he calls his brother. This time there’s no hostility in his voice, only sincerity and repentance. “I am ever so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” Dante smirks playfully. “Why do you think I’m here if I still hold a grudge against you?”

“I mean it,” Vergil emphasizes. “Truthfully. For everything I have done… and my sincere gratitude for taking good care of my son while I wasn’t there for him.”

“Honestly, Verge. Forget it. I only do what I have to do.”

Watching his little brother finally howls in laughter, a surge of warmth fills Vergil’s veins as he joins the laughter. It’s comforting, since they can’t remember the last time they laugh together without any fight and bad blood. I barely remember how it feels like to have a family, Vergil chuckles while Dante kicks Vergil’s knee mischievously. Was it always this… warm?

“Dante.”

“Yup?”

“I think we should go back to the human world now.”

Dante whistles in joy. “Ready to meet your grandkids?”

“Do tell me the truth,” Vergil growls, impetuously tugs Dante’s collar. “Are you serious about grandchildren or you just make it up?”

“For fuck sake, Verge! Didn’t you know that already when you ripped your son’s arm?”

“I didn’t pay much attention... I can only recall a voice of woman called Nero for dinner- not the voice of that mouthful friend of Nero-”

“Yeah that was Kyrie. Your soon-to-be daughter in law. Anyway they adopted kids called Carlo, Kyle, and Julio,” Dante pats Vergil’s shoulder with pride and teasing manner. “Congratulations, you’re officially a grandpa! What a fine day for revelation!”

As if my life could get any worse, Vergil grinds his teeth in frustration as he releases Dante from his grip. “How unfortunate.”

“C’mon, swing that flimsy sword of yours and make a portal to the human world. We got plenty of things to do! I gotta pay those bills, refurbish my shop, return Kalina Ann to Lady, and buy a birthday present for Patty.”

“Rather a cumbersome list you got there, Dante.”

“What can I say? I’m a busy man! Now get your ass up, old man! Nero’s waiting!”

---

It’s already two fucking years.

Nero was never a believer. There’s no such thing as a miracle, he told himself. Protecting Kyrie and the kids is an endless responsibility that bestowed upon him. There’s nothing he won’t do for their happiness and safety, even if it means to cost his own well-being. He relies on nobody but himself. He doesn’t pray. He never tries to exceed any expectation, because hope is a dangerous and fragile thing. Hope bothers him, and he hates to be bothered.

Yet, lately, he almost surrendered by the temptation to hold some hope.

What hope? Nero rejects his own thought. For those douchebags to return safely? Gimme a break.

Sitting in his garage and polishing the Red Queen, Nero takes a brief look at the snowy ground outside of the house where the children are building a snowman. He grins at Kyle who waves at him; the youngest from the three children he adopted, who’s now taller and braver than he used to be when he found the little boy searching for some scraps at Fortuna’s slum. Nero chuckles when a glimpse of a picture of Vergil meeting Kyrie and the boys pops out from his head. Would they be pleased to meet him? Would Vergil be pleased to meet them? Would he himself be pleased to meet Vergil again? There’s no fucking way for them to coming back, Nero slaps himself. They either die or shit themselves in the Underworld. Probably fucking fighting again like toddlers.

Still, the thought of his father and uncle somehow return and meeting his little family is overwhelming. Nero can’t even hide his smile anymore. He throws away the rug he uses to wipe the blade and hangs the Red Queen on the wall.

Come to think of it, that fucker ripped off my arm in this garage too.

He lays a hard punch on the wall.

“Keep punchin’ the wall, and ya would destroy the house.”

Nero glances at his friend and partner in crime, Nico, who rests her back on the van and lights her cigarette. He still finds it strange to witness Nico in her winter outfit, a contrast to her usual tanktop and shorts she used to wear before winter comes. "How many times have I told you to smoke outside the house?”

“Ya blind or what? It’s cold outside!”

“Darn it, Nico! Then don’t smoke!”

“Too late~” Nico barks a laugh while blowing a smoke. “Anyway, why did you punch the wall like a madman?”

Nero shrugs nonchalantly. “Nothing. Just feeling like punching something.”

“Cut the bullshit. Ya missed yer old man, ain’t cha?”

“Buzz off, Nico.”

“Aaaaw, don’t be so meanie~”

“Seriously, Nico. Go bugger off someone else. I’m not in the mood for having a chit-chat.”

“Everyone’s worried, ya know,” Nico exhales exaggeratedly, pointing at the children outside. “Those lil’ brats asked me if somethin’ pissed ya off because ya look like ya wanted to punch someone in the face since the Christmas party last week.”

“I indeed want to punch a certain person,” Nero lets out a cackle. “But he’s not available at the moment.”

“Y’know, I’m not an expert of daddy and son shits, and yer dad is obviously not an ideal father, but it’s totally okay for ya to miss him. The jackass did save the world, at least.”

“Thanks, Nico. That’s so motivational. I’m deeply touched- ouch !” Nero swears when a sturdy plug lands on his head. “What the fuck Nico?!”

“Talk to Kyrie,” Nico lowers her voice. Her brash mouth always sounds kinder and empathetic when she talks about Kyrie. “Ya locked yerself in this garage the whole day! You’re making her worried, ya know?”

“I think you should double your eyeglasses. I didn’t lock myself. See that door? It’s unhinged, because I need to make sure the kids are alright.”

“Yeaaah whatever. Go talk to her, pretty boy. I’ll watch over the brats.”

“Fine…” Nero scratches his nape as he walks away from the garage. “Don’t let the kids go anywhere near my weapons!”

“Gotcha~!”

Nero never meant to worry anyone, of course. He lives a happy life; he married the love of his life, adopted a bunch of orphans whom he loved and took care of equally, and ran a business with his best friend whom he considered a big sister. The world is currently safe from danger. So what's to worry about?

His confusion disappears when he sees Kyrie’s figure covered in a thick blanket at the terrace. She smiles happily as the snow continues to fall and catches a drop on her palm. Nero feels like he could melt anytime he sees Kyrie’s soothing smile. He takes his time to watch her catching snow as he leans against the door, ignoring the cold breeze that sneaks inside his body. It doesn’t take a long time for Kyrie to be aware of Nero’s presence as she asks him to join her at the terrace.

“You should put your coat on, Nero. It’s cold here.” Kyrie speaks her concern while she wraps him with her blanket.

“Chill out. I’m fine,” Nero gives her a light peck on the forehead. His right hand envelopes Kyrie’s waist to give her a sense of comfort. “The kids are building snowmans back there. Been hours and who knows when they will stop.”

Kyrie giggles. “The more they grow up the more energetic they become! At least we don’t need to worry about how to get them to sleep on time. I believe they’ll get exhausted after play and filling their stomachs with delicious dinner would quicken their way to sleep!”

“You’re right.”

Kyrie looks up at her lover’s tensed face. She brushes the tip of Nero’s nose slightly to make him smile. That little maneuver always succeeded to cheer him up. Kyrie rests her head on Nero’s chest. “Are you not happy with the Christmas party last week? I know you hated surprises but-”

“No- I liked it! Really! You know we rarely celebrate things lately and last week was one of the best days in my life! How could I hate that?” Nero tightens his grip on Kyrie’s waist, gazing at Kyrie’s eyes deeply. “I’m happy, Kyrie. I’m happy here with our little family.”

“Then it must have something to do with your father and uncle, is it?”

“That obvious, huh?” Nero smirks bitterly. “I just… I don’t know. You know how Dante is. To think that he’s actually my uncle is… weird. Then I found out the man who screwed up Red Grave was his brother. My father. Vergil, he left me when I was a child… as V, he manipulated me to do his agenda. He reemerged and left me again. And Dante didn't even bother to tell me the fact before Vergil was back. That made me feel… kinda betrayed. It still doesn’t make any sense to me. I got a pair of dysfunctional family members and I don’t know what I should do if they come back. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

The only parental figure Nero ever had was just Kyrie and Credo’s parents, and they didn’t even live that long to give little Nero more love and parental advice. Kyrie truly understands Nero’s struggle to accept his heritage and keep holding on his humanity. “Nero… do you forgive your father?”

“What?”

“I don’t mean to bring it up again, but after all the ill he caused to you, do you forgive him?”

The memory of him and Vergil on the top of the Qliphoth tree rises again. He succeeded in bringing some sense back to his father and the old man entrusted him his precious book- the one which Nero kept safely on the shelf- before jumping to Hell and finishing what he started. Vergil didn’t say much, but his promise… his damn promise!

“I won’t lose next time. Hold onto that until then.”

“I forgive him,” Nero admits. “I think… I just miss him. And Dante. I really want us to be a proper family. That's all.”

“Just as I thought,” Kyrie cups Nero’s jaw with her hands. “I’m glad that you’re honest with yourself. There’s nothing wrong with missing them. They might be flawed, but they are your family."

Nero carefully caresses his beloved hands as if he's afraid of hurting her. "I'm sorry I keep putting you to my demon lineage problem…"

"Hey, we talked about this. Demon or human, it's you I want to be with…" she kisses him on the lips. "I love you, Nero."

"I love you too." He returns the kiss deeper.

Nero wraps her around his arms, seeking comfort and warmth from her presence. Kyrie's words succeed in getting his head together. He can feel a degree of burden has left his shoulders as he finds himself finally letting go his worries. Kyrie is right. There's nothing wrong with missing those douchebags. They're my family-

"NERO!"

Nico appears out of nowhere at the terrace, panting and panicking like she ran for her life. Every single nerve inside Nero's body tells him that something wrong is happening, but the sassy smirk on Nico's face while she tries to breathe normally tells another thing. "You're not gonna believe me if I told you this-"

"Are the kids safe?" Kyrie asks anxiously.

"Yeah they're fine. They have company."

What the fuck? "Company? What are you talking about?!"

Nico rolls her eyes as she grabs both of Nero and Kyrie's hands. "Just follow me quickly!"

Nico seems excited… if it wasn't a danger, then what?

The children are giggling and shouting happily at something Nero can't see yet. But as soon as Nico delivers them in the backyard, he spots two familiar figures among the kids. The red-coated man joins them to decorate the snowman as he helps them crafting the pile of snow with stones and branches. He summons a cowboy hat and a shiny red scarf from thin air- which excites the kids- before he puts the hat on the snowman's head and wraps its neck with the scarf as the last touch. The children are applauding and hugging him, saying their gratitude and bombing him with questions on how he could summon stuff only from thin air. The cocky red man barks in laughter and tells them that he learns some magic tricks.

In a contrast to the red man, the blue-coated man stands a bit far from the crowd, facepalming and reluctant to do anything despite the children's curiosity as they glance at him and whisper their surprise on how similar his face is with the red man. Carlo states that the blue man is scary, and quickly hides behind the red man when the blue man hears his mutter and glares at the poor kid.

"C'mon, Verge, stop glaring at the kids! You're scaring them!" The red man chuckles.

Dante?

Vergil?

How-? Since when…?

"You…" Nero breathes heavily, barely trusts his vision. "You guys are alive…"

Dante grins and waves a salute at Nero. "Heya, kid! Miss me? I know we're late, but Merry Christmas!"

Kyrie holds her giggle when she catches Nero's dumbstruck face. She grips his hand and whispers him a word of advice. "Time to let your doubts go, Nero. They are here, at last."

Nero gives a nod, but his mouth isn't capable of forming any words. He reluctantly approaches Vergil, who seems nonchalant about his surroundings, if only Nero failed to catch his father's warm gaze as he stands before Vergil. A minute has passed and none of them say anything. Words cannot describe how they feel towards each other.

But Nero decides to solve the problem in Sparda's family old-fashioned style: punching his father hard right in the face.

There echoes Dante and Nico's laughter as Vergil's body lands violently on the ground, covered with snow.

The older son of Sparda can taste a metallic scent liquid dripping from his lips.

"That hurts," he murmurs and proceeds to get up as he wipes the blood from his mouth. "Two years and still have no manners, I see."

"Fuck you, old man!" Nero spats angrily.

Dante, still laughing at the picture of his brother getting sucker-punched by Nero, sloppily walks to approach them. He pats Nero's shoulder in pride. "You're doing the right thing, Nero. You gave him the right Christmas present-"

The legendary devil hunter gets a very lethal slap from his nephew before he finishes his sentence.

"And that's a present for you, deadweight!" The young devil hunter shouts.

The view of Dante and Vergil getting slammed by Nero only increases Nico's laughter.

"Why did Nero punch Mr. Dante and Mr. Vergil?" Carlo asks Kyrie. "Nero always punches bad people. Are they bad people?"

"Well… no, they are good people! Mr. Vergil is Nero's father and Mr. Dante is Nero's uncle," Kyrie chuckles to hide her worry and struggles to find the correct way to explain the situation. "They haven't met for a very long time. Nero misses them so much that he… doesn't know what to do anymore. But punching people doesn't solve problems, so don't ever do that, okay?"

The kids nod obediently despite not completely understanding the circumstances.

"Can we stop Nero from punching them, Kyrie?" asks Julio, the oldest one from the three. "Family doesn't hurt each other, right?"

"Nah, don't worry. They will stop soon," Nico says as he points at the three hybrids. "Let 'em get the reunion they deserve."

They become calm and smiling at the sight of Nero bringing his father and uncle in a tight embrace together as the young man lets out a cry.

"You both are full of shits and stinky… like a scavenger…" Nero sobs, his teeth grinding hard. "At least take a shower before you show up, dumbass…!"

Dante sneers as he taps Nero’s back. “Yeah, I miss you too.”

The red devil glares at his twin. Say something to your son!

Vergil, unmoved and stiff, doesn’t know how to react from this awkward embrace. He feels uncomfortable, yet finds himself melting between this fuzzy feeling. “Nero…”

“Shut up,” Nero interrupts while breaking his embrace and burying his teary eyes on his palm. “Just fucking shut up.”

“Forgive me,” the blue devil insists to continue. “For leaving you again.”

“Yeah yeah, just shut up...”

Nero jolts by the unexpected weight on his head; Vergil’s hand ruffles his hair as he curves a very subtle smile.

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Oh how Nero wanted to punch him again, if only he could bring himself to.

“Uhm…” Kyrie comes to Nero’s rescue as she smiles politely to the twins. “I’m sorry to interrupt this reunion. It’s dinner time and… we would be very happy if the two of you join us for supper.”

“We’d be glad!” Dante accepts cheerfully. “Nero once told me you cook the best meal in Fortuna!”

“Shut up, Dante!” Nero grunts. He remembers he hasn’t told the twins that Kyrie and him are married. He pulls Kyrie closer and holds her hand firmly. “Anyway, Father. This is my wife, Kyrie. Kyrie, this is Vergil. My father.”

Kyrie smiles warmly at Vergil. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Vergil.”

Vergil appreciates Kyrie’s bravery and gives his sincerest nod of approval. There is not a single hint of fright from Kyrie as he recalls how people tend to tremble and stutter in fear whenever they talk to him. He can see why Nero loves her and is very protective towards her. “Thank you for taking good care for my son all this time.”

“Sorry for missing your wedding party, babe. We’ve been busy cleaning up Hell,” Dante grins at Kyrie. “Congratulations. My nephew is lucky to have you as his wife.”

“Can you shut up already?” spats Nero, feeling terribly embarrassed.

“I’m hungry~!” Nico shouts mischievously. “Let’s continue inside! It’s damn freezin’ out here!”

Kyrie gives the twins a final nod as she invites them to come inside the house. She runs to the kitchen with Nico while Nero gathers the kids to enter the house. Dante chuckles like a cocky cool uncle when Julio asks him to do another magic trick, and the little chuckle turns into a bigger laughter when he sees Vergil’s hand tucked in Kyle’s hand as the youngest child calls him Grandpa Vergil.

“Grandpa’s hand is cold!” Kyle says, unaware of Vergil’s death glare. “Once you eat Kyrie’s food, you’ll be warm in no time!”

“Let go of my hand, little rascal.” Vergil scoffs, uncomfortable by the strange kindness from the little child.

Kyle laughs and keeps guiding him to the kitchen. The food is prepared and everyone is about to get their seats. Carlo drags a chair beside Dante’s seat and shyly asks Vergil to sit there, which Vergil accepts.

“Starting to feel like coming back home?” Dante asks his brother.

“This is not bad.”

“I’ve contacted Lady and Trish. They will be here soon,” Nico says as she puts the cigarette on the ashtray. “Lady said something about returning her Kalina Ann. Trish gave her regards, and said that ya need to pay the rent as soon as possible.”

“Damn… those devilish ladies…” Dante buries his face on the table.

“Your office looks like shit without you.” Nero sneers at Dante.

Further family resolvement can wait. Now let them enjoy their first family dinner for the first time. Christmas might have passed a week ago, but Nero thinks his most valuable present had just arrived today. He still wants to beat the shit out of his father and uncle for some unknown reasons, but it can wait for later. His eyes meet Vergil’s, and his father forms a warm smile to him. He never says much, Nero knows that, but he can give him time to adjust in the human world.

Amidst the chants and chatter in the house, unbeknownst to each other, the three descendants of Sparda secretly hope that this rare moment can last forever.

#dmcsecretsanta #dmc #devil may cry #dante #vergil #nero #kyrie #nico #nero x kyrie #night writes #nibbbs

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

Filmverse!Knuckles is gonna be Tikal’s Little Brother and if he’s not I’m suing Sega

[ID: Two images; one of clipart of Knuckles the Echidna beside a poster for Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), and another from Sonic X of Knuckles and Tikal together while Tikal is injured. End ID.] 

Thankfully, this might be shorter than my last couple theory posts but unfortunately I am possibly more passionate about it because this could conceivably happen and if it doesn’t I don’t know what I’m gonna do. 

So in this theory, I will endeavor to prove these points:

Knuckles will very soon be present in the filmverse. 

In the Filmverse, Pachacamac (and by extention, Tikal) are no longer four-thousand years gone, but exist at the same time as Sonic.

Knuckles is going to be in this clan not just as any member, but as Tikal’s brother. 

We’re going off the rails and I’m going to tie this all in to the Chaos Emerald Filmverse theory. 

Who’s ready to go? Everything under the cut. 

1. Knuckles is Coming #2k22

[ID: Another edited photo, placing clipart of Knuckles beside a promotional photo for Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). End ID.] 

This will probably be a short section but... there’s no way Knuckles won’t be in the filmverse very soon. Likely, in the second fucking movie. 

Let’s start with the basics: Knuckles was originally going to be in the first movie, but was cut in order to better establish the Sonic vs Robotnik rivalry. Director Jeff Fowler made the following statement: 

“For this first film, we really were just looking at the 1991 game and just see where it all started and keep it simple…Just really try to nail Sonic and Robotnik and just set up their rivalry because you don’t…I mean, I love…There’s a lot of great characters in Sonic universe, but it’s the most important thing is just to get Sonic set up and just tell a little bit of an origin story with him, and just do it in a way that really makes everyone fall in love with him as a character and just be rooting for more.

And then, if all that goes well, then we can kind of open it up and bring in some of these other characters that fans know and love. And yeah, I mean, no one’s more excited than me to have that opportunity.”

[x]

As well as this, co-writer for the film, Josh Miller, has stated he really wants to bring in Knux. 

“I will only hint that we wanna bring in some of the other characters from the games. But, really, it’s all about Knuckles’ love.” [x]

Second, voice actors have, reportedly, already been considered for Knuckles’s voice, including Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. [x, x]

And third, Mushroom Hill. 

[ID: Two photos; one of the Mushroom Planet from Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). The second is a screenshot from Sonic & Knuckles, where Knuckles is running through Mushroom Hill. Both photos feature gigantic mushrooms resembling trees and an orange tint. End iD.]

The “Mushroom Planet” is a direct reference to the first level of Sonic & Knuckles. The first level of.... the game with Knuckles’s name in it. 

So, you wanna hear something funny? What’s the first thing Knuckles does in the game timeline? 

[ID: Screenshot from Sonic & Knuckles. Sonic is standing on the left side of the screen, beneath a mural of something holding an emerald towards something that looks like SuperSonic. On the right side of the screen is Knuckles, ready to fight Sonic. End ID.]

Well... Robotnik shows up, convinces him that Sonic and Tails are gonna try to steal his emerald, and sends him off to fight them. 

And where’s Robotnik at the end of the 2020 film?

[ID: Robotnik on the Mushroom Planet in Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). End ID.]

While the Mushroom Planet may not be where Angel Island is in filmverse, the direct reference would definitely generate fan attention. And it implies that Robotnik, wherever he is or is going, is headed towards Knuckles. And with the game inciting incident of Robotnik having Knuckles fight Sonic for him... well, wouldn’t that be a wild introduction? Especially for casual fans who don’t have Sonic Lore memorized and may not know that Knuckles was originally an antagonist/rival to Sonic. 

Oh, and there’s one more piece of evidence that Knuckles is gonna show up... the fact that his tribe already has. 

And among them, by the way, are Pachacamac and Tikal. 

2. Pachacamac and Tikal are no longer 4000 years old

So. Let’s talk about the opening scene of Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). As many of you have probably noticed, Sonic and Longclaw are attacked not just by any masked intruders, but by... the Knuckles Clan of Echidnas. 

And we’re sure they’re not any other clan, because they have the trademark Knuckled Gloves. 

[ID: Multiple gifs of the echidnas attempt to attack Longclaw and Baby Sonic. They are dressed in vaguely tribal wear, and have gloves featuring pointed knuckles, signifying them as the Knuckles Clan. End ID.] 

Now, that’s not evidence of Pachacamac/Tikal itself; we know the Knuckles Clan lasted at least long enough to spawn our Knuckles. What is evidence, however, is in the specific Echidna who shot Longclaw. 

[ID: Gif of the Echidna who shot Longclaw, isolated in the frame. End ID.] 

Look familiar?

[ID: The echdina who shot Longclaw in the 2020 film next to a render of Pachacamac. The mystery echidna’s helmet has the same forehead markings as Pachacamac, along with a design that looks like his mustache. End ID.]

And fun fact: this isn’t me reaching for once. This was confirmed by Tyson Hesse, film character designer and savior of Sonic, on his twitter. 

[ID: Tweet from Tyson Hesse, showing the pictures of the Echidna and Pachacamac. He says, “Late to the #sonicwatchparty but this is an easter egg I haven’t seen many people catch.” End iD.]

Pachacamac is canonically in Sonic 2020. As director Jeff Fowler has said he believes Sonic as ~13 during the events of the film, we could say he’s about three years old in that intro. And we know this because it is specified specifically that the main timeline takes place ten years after the prologue. 

[ID: Screenshot from Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), the first shot following the logo. It is a landscape shot of a street in the middle of a green field, and the caption reads, Green Hills Montana: Ten Years Later. End ID.]

Meaning... Pachacamac was alive ten years before the film takes place. Quite the departure from the four-thousand year time jump in the gameverse. Seeing as Pachacamac is alive so close to this timeline, we can reasonably assume that Tikal is, too- she’s his teenaged daughter, canonically ~14 when she is turned into a spirit, which would put her as solidly alive during this timeline. 

...wanna know who else would be alive in this timeline? 

Knuckles, who is only a year older than Sonic. 

And, um, obviously a member of the Knuckles Clan. 

3. Where is Knuckles in this Filmverse Canon?

Okay “Knuckles” is going to stop sounding like a word so can we just call the Knuckles Clan the KC rn? okay? Okay. 

Knuckles is canonically a year older than Sonic- listed as 16 while Sonic is 15. So if Sonic’s alive, Knuckles is alive. Basic logic there. 

In the gameverse, Knuckles’s backstory is as thus, paraphrased from Sonic Wiki:

Knuckles was born and raised alone on Angel Island as the last surviving member of the Knuckles Clan, a long-lost race of echidnas devoted to protecting the Master Emerald from being abused. However, Knuckles’s own past was a mystery to him; he knew nothing how he came to be and believed himself to be the last of his kind entirely. The one thing he did know was that he had always been living on his island, protecting the Master Emerald. Knuckles knew from an innate knowledge that his duty was his fate, and he was content with that.

While we can’t expect his backstory to stay exactly the same, seeing as Sonic now has a dead owl mom and knows how to Fortnite dance, but Knuckles’s backstory does fuel a lot of his character and decisions in the games. Here are what I believe to be the two main points of this backstory:

Knuckles is, or at least believes himself to be, the last member of his race 

Knuckles considers it his sacred duty to guard the Master Emerald 

[ID: Screencap from Sonic X of Knuckles the Echidna holding the Master Emerald above his head. End ID.]

Now... if Sonic was three during that backstory, the KC was around at least when Knuckles was about four. Most children don’t develop long-term memories til then, but if 3yo Sonic could remember his backstory in Green Hills near-perfectly, then clearly mobians are a bit different. We can reasonably assume that Knuckles would then remember at least part of his tribe or family, so that’s a definite change. 

Thing is, what would be the reason for this change? Even ignoring Pachacamac, it was definitely intentional for the clan attacking Longclaw and Sonic to be the KC, which does change quite a bit of Knuckles’s backstory. Which isn’t a problem, you see- it’s a drastic change, but character changes aren’t bad if there’s a reason behind them. 

So what would be the reason for Knuckles having memories of his tribe? 

Well... how easy would it be, then, to get that Sonic Adventure flashback via Knuckles instead of a glowing ball of Tikal/Navi? 

[ID: Screencap from Sonic Adventure, showing Knuckles the Echidna staring down Chaos and the glowing ball of light that symbolizes Tikal. They are standing in front of the emerald shards. End ID.]

Would be an easy way to get any chaos emerald/Master Emerald exposition out of the way, as well as establish some basic and early Sonic Lore- Chaos, echidnas, chao. And if Knuckles, um, remembers his entire race being massacred by an elder god?? That would definitely affect him in a way that he’d consider protecting the Master Emerald, the controller of the power Chaos used to do such a thing, a duty for himself. 

And... what would be the best way to get that backstory out? 

4. Knuckles is Tikal’s Baby Brother

Here’s the thing- the KC citizens don’t seem to know much about what’s going on outside of Pachacamac’s orders. From talking to them in Sonic Adventure flashbacks, we can see they’re quite a bit... confused, I think is the best way to put it. 

[ID: Dialogue screenshots from Sonic Adventure that I had to nab from a Game Grumps video because nobody else had these online. The echidnas say, “The daughter? I saw her in front of the shrine.”, “Well... I.... I just can’t sit still!” and “I think, therefore I am.” End ID.]

So if Knuckles was just an ordinary tribe member, it’d be unlikely for him to know enough to provide the necessary flashback details. And if Knuckles’s past was changed in order to provide an easier connection to the SA lore, he’d need to be very near to the action. Of course, he could just be a curious child, but even then, he’d likely be left out of several conversations surrounding Tikal. 

Most of Tikal’s flashbacks are spent alone- she only has a few arguing with her father, but most of her scenes are spent with the Chao and Chaos themself in the Chao Garden. Considering Tikal seems to be the only echidna frequenting the Chao Garden- the chao are afraid of her when she first approaches, Pachacamac arriving is basically seen as a declaration of war- there’d be no reason for an echidna to be there unless she brought them herself. 

Who would she bring with her? Perhaps... her little brother. 

[ID: Screencap from Sonic X of Tikal, surrounded by flying Chao while at the Master Emerald Shrine. End ID.]

First off, let’s get over the age thing-- I know you’re gonna say “Knuckles is 16 when Tikal is 14,” HOWEVER, TIkal did not age while inside the Master Emerald. She could go in at any point in Knuckles’s life, which means she could be anywhere from ten years older than him to a twin sister to two years younger. 

There’s no real concrete evidence of how old Knuckles would be in filmverse when the SA events happen, seeing as we have only seen Pachacamac existing and have no idea where this is in his timeline. However, from a writing standpoint, if you want to keep a bit of Knuckles’s backstory of living alone for a good chunk of his life, I’d say the massacre happening when he was ~8 seems likely. Old enough to have clear memories of the SA events but young enough to have his life completely sidetracked and feel like he raised himself. 

It’d be very easy for the flashbacks to feature Tikal taking a baby Knuckles to the Chao Garden, just telling him “don’t tell Dad, he won’t understand,” to talk to him about the grandmother he doesn’t remember who used to teach peace, to explain Chaos and the Master Emerald to him. 

And it’d be very easy angst for Knuckles being dragged along with the rest of the clan to take the emerald(s), watch his father basically doom his sister and his tribe murder innocent chao, and then see everyone he’s ever known murdered by Chaos, with his older sister stopping the rampage only by sealing herself and the destructive god in that emerald, leaving Knuckles completely alone. That’s all severe angst that pretty much no writer would pass up. 

Especially because it means Knuckles guarding the Master Emerald has now turned into Knuckles guarding his sister. 

[ID: Sonic X screenshot of Knuckles and Tikal looking up, surrounded by fire. End ID.]

So that’s the general theory. But let’s talk about something more fun: how it all ties into the Chaos Emerald Filmverse Theory. 

5. It all ties into our Chaos Emerald theory shh 

If you haven’t read Cori’s manifesto on the Chaos Emerald Filmverse Theory, allow me to summarize: 

Sonic is definitely a living Chaos Emerald, meaning that there are six other living Chaos Emeralds running around that we’re gonna need to track down. At least one of them’s Tails. 

First thing’s first... Robotnik going after Knuckles then makes perfect sense. If Robotnik somehow figured out exactly what Sonic was, he’d want a way to dilute his power. And the Master Emerald literally nullifies the power of the chaos emeralds. So whoever has the Master Emerald can severely nerf Sonic. Imagine Sonic getting within the boundaries of the ME and then immediately losing speed and falling flat on his face. Big oof. 

Second, it’s possible that Knuckles will also know what Sonic is. Because, well... what was Pachacamac after in Sonic Adventure?

[ID: Pachacamac attempting to talk down Tikal, who is t-posing in front of the Chao Garden in attempt to keep them out. Behind him is an echidna army, ready to attack. Pachacamac is saying, “We need those seven emeralds to give us total power!” End ID.]

The Chaos Emeralds. In order to use their power as weapons. 

And what was he after in Sonic 2020? 

Sonic. 

Interesting, huh.

Conclusion

Knuckles is gonna be the last member of the Knuckles Clan, guarding his older sister’s spirit inside an insanely powerful emerald, and will definitely be manipulated by Robotnik into using his Master Emerald to fuck up Sonic. 

And it’ll be really awesome. 

[ID: Sonic X screencap of Knuckles giving a thumbs up. End ID.]

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic 2020 #knuckles the echidna #tikal the echidna #sonic adventure #mine #connie theories

[pieces-by-me]

True and Upholding

Words: 3683

Summary: Thomas deals with a mystery he can't solve, even though he really needs to.

Warnings: mention of blood, nightmares. Some angst in there. English is not my first language. 

Thomas had to hand it to the Scorch. The night sky was beautiful. Clear dark blue hues stretched over the whole horizon, not one cloud could be seen. Which also meant that he could see thousands of stars and constellations. He never imagined that he would be able to see so many stars at once, at least he couldn't remember if he ever saw so many.

He cherished these small moment of calmness. A moment to breath, sit and think instead of running for his life. The life he could remember was short. Sure he stung himself, back in the Glade, to remember the time before he went up in the box but other than him working for WICKED and helping them torment his friends, his family, nothing new and of importance came back. He couldn't remember his mother, the person who brought him into this life. All he gets when he desperately tries to come up with something he vaguely sees brown eyes, nothing more. His own mother was lost in his mind. He couldn't remember if he had siblings. He could have a brother that was still trapped within WICKED and used as a lap rat. He could have a sister that would run around in the same Scorch he sits and slowly turn into a Crank. Loosing her mind with every second that passed. Or he could simply have none. He did not know.

Sometimes he hated not knowing. He hated that he could not remember a single good moment before the Glade. He hated WICKED for taking his memories and worse of all he hated himself for working with them. How could he have done that? How could he have supported them? If you could trust Jansons words, which you normally couldn't, he didn't just work for them he worked with them and planed the Maze from the beginning. He put his friends, the people he would give his life to, through so much pain and misery that he wanted to throw up just by the thought of it. How was that possible that he himself was behind his own misery. That he himself was the reason so many of his friends morned the people they lost over the last three years.

Maybe it was better that he didn't know everything he'd done back with WICKED. It couldn't eat him up more than it already did when he thought about his past. It would kill him to know what he did exactly. And even though he hated himself for his past self, he couldn't forget the words Newt told him back in the Glade. That the people they were before the Glade didn't exist anymore. Those words gave him hope and will to become better this time. To help his friends escape the hands of WICKED. Who knows if there really was a cure to the Flare? The world was fucked and irreparable anyway.

Before his thoughts turned even darker he looked at each of his friends.

Minho laid with his head in the crook of his own elbow. His left eyebrow would twitch and his eyes would move under the lid. It was obvious that the former Runner was having a non so pleasant dream. The jerking of his left foot looked like a dog that was running when it dreamt. Maybe he even dreamed about the Maze and him being back there. But who could blame him.

Frypan was laying on his stomach and silently snoring. Drool would drop from his left corner of his mouth. Thomas thought that he probably dreamed of his favorite bacon and it made him smile just a little.

When his eyes went over Newts sleeping form Thomas's eyes stuck to his friends leg. The one that would always drag a little behind the other. He still did't know why Newt had a limb but he knew it was because of something tragic. Otherwise people would have talked about it or made a friendly joke like they would do about Frypans burnt pancakes. But every time another saw Newt struggling just a little with his leg their eyes would turn sad. Newt never accepted help and even though it made Thomas angry sometimes he could understand his friend.

His eyes stopped on the small ball of brown fabric that was on the other side of his friends. Everyone laid closer together to share heat between another but not for them. (Y/N) was not one of the Gladers. They met her together with Aris when they first came to the small compound of WICKED. Sitting together at a table only for their own. Aris told Thomas, when they were crawling through the vents, that they were the only once left. All the others from Group B were taken through the doors to be strung up as medicine source.

Ever since they all escaped WICKED Y/N was like a shadow to Aris. Never letting him out of her sight. Never being away from him more then three feet. When they would wake up her eyes would find his figure first to make sure he's still there.

She would't talk much. Not interested in exchanging stories of her maze or how they lived there. The Group would only hear her when she talked quietly to Aris. Newt thought she was just shy. Minho thought she could be dumb and simply not know how to talk. That got him a whack over the head from Teresa. “She can talk, idiot. She just doesn't want to” Silently overhearing the whole thing Y/N let the smallest of smiles slip on her lips when Minho made small huffing noises and complains over his now hurting head. While she thought no one saw Thomas did and he couldn't take his eyes from the small token of emotions that appeared on her face.

She was like a mystery to him. A mystery he desperately wanted to solve. Why? He didn't even know himself. They met literally a couple of days ago. She wouldn't share any information about her live or herself and all the things he knew he got from Aris. Who, if you would be honest, wasn't really a big help. He only knew her like four weeks longer then Thomas knew them. One thing he was for certain was that she was very protective. No one could come near Aris if she didn't let them. In the old mall she almost threw herself in front of one of the cranks to save him and almost got a heart attack when he dove towards one to break their knee with his metal bat. She would protect him and Thomas thought it was because they were both from Group B. They only had each other and their memories of their fallen friends. He understood that. He was also very protective over his friends.

“You're staring at her again.”

The voice that whispered near Thomas's ear might have been screaming it scared him so much. Turning his head with the speed of a lightning he saw Aris close to him. A little smirk grew on the younger boys face.

“I was not staring”

“Yeah you were, we both know it. And it's not the first time I caught you”

Well Thomas couldn't really deny that. Aris had caught him a couple of times and always with that stupid smirk on his face.

“Why are you always staring at her when you drift of into your own thoughts?”

“I really don't know Aris.”

Both of them were now looking at Y/N, still sound asleep. Neither one said anything for a while. Thomas was kinda glad that Aris too was awake. Come to think of it.

“Why are you awake Aris? It's not your turn for watch yet.”

The boy hiding under his hood let out a sigh that was almost shaking, but not from the cold.

“Nightmare.” Was all he answered for a time. And Thomas gave him all the time he needed. He knew or rather had an idea what kind of nightmares crawled inside the boys head.

“You want to talk about it?” His voice turned to a softness he rarely used anymore.

“We were back in our Maze. Y/N was walking me around the grounds when there was this scream. It was like nothing I ever heard before. The girl screaming sounded like she wanted to rip her own throat out.”

A sense of deja vu crawled over Thomas's skin. It sounded exactly like when he walked his first steps in the Glade and Ben screamed bloody murder. “She was stung right?”

Aris threw him a look. For a short moment forgetting that Thomas and the other boys he traveled through the scorch with had all similar experiences with their own maze.

“Yeah.... She didn't make it though. Normally they all do but with her it was just something wrong. Like her body just didn't want to be saved by the serum. She bled form everywhere. Her eyes, her ears, her nose. She even clawed at her own skin, like she wanted to escape from her own body. There was so much blood.”

Aris's voice grew more quiet with every word he said. His eyes slowly zoning on Y/N again. Like she could somehow ground him.

Thomas was shocked. He only knew that when you got stung, you get the serum and it changes you. You would be different but at least still alive. Has anyone from his maze experienced the same? He didn't even know what to say to that. But he didn't have to come up with something because Aris started talking again. Eyes still pointed on Y/N's sleeping form.

“I don't even know how the other girls felt. Rachel...” His voice broke from saying the name of a girl he couldn't save “..Rachel cried the whole day. I think the girls name was Leena. One of the Runners as you would call them. Everyone was shocked after that. Not even Harriet was ok that day. But Y/N somehow got them all back together. She gave them little things to do so everyone would get back to their work. She was also the one who dug up the grave for Leena. I helped her put the body in. I mean I didn't know the girl that died so it didn't take a tole on me than the other girls in the maze. So I figured I could help at least a little bit. When we were digging the grave she didn't say a single word to me. Just grunting when I made a mistake.”

Aris turned turned to Thomas with a little bit of a smile. It was strange seeing the distraught boy show any kind of positive emotion. “Come to think of it when you dig a grave you would think it will be easy. But no. Y/N made sure it was perfect. Directly under a tree where the sun would slowly gleam through the leafs. It was Leena's favorite place to rest after a stressful day. And then, when we were done, she sat down by the grave and cried. I did't know what to do so I just sat next to her and held her. She said 'Thank you' and left. After that we become closer than before. I mean you kinda do when you bury a body together.” It was supposed to be a little joke, but the reality made it bitter. “That was it. That was my nightmare.”

The small wind that picked up sand took Aris's words with it. What the hell were you supposed to answer to that? Thomas didn't know so the quiet spread wider the longer he thought about something to say. He looked over to the younger boy and saw that his eyes were once again trained on Y/N. She had turned in her sleep and was now facing the boys. Her features calm and peaceful. Not plagued with worry or fear. That was a facial feature that was typically found on her face.

Worry for her friend. Worry for the situation they were all in. Fear of never ending hopelessness. Fear of never finding this so called 'Save Haven' and always being on the run. Fear of ending up like Rachel or all the other girls that didn't make it. You could see it on her face. She was not one for masking it. She showed everyone what she though. A fact that made her even more intriguing to Thomas than what he already felt for the girl across from him. He admired the fact that she was true to herself and her feelings and that she wouldn't let anyone take them away. He found it out himself when they first met that she was not one for taking orders from people she didn't know or trust. And he and his friends were exactly that. Aris only told and showed him everything he knew about WICKED when she gave the ok. And Aris said it was always like it. Even back in the maze where she wasn't even the leader. That was Harriet. But she was their guidance.

Someone to talk to when you felt like shit. Someone who would give you advice if you asked. Someone caring in a world where you faced death almost every day. Someone that would do anything to make sure you were ok. She was that person to Group B. And as Thomas's gaze left her form for a second and landed on the sleeping boy closest to him, the one that was the first person to utter nice and encouraging words to him, he figured that Y/N and Newt took on the same role in the different mazes. They held everything together an never asked for something. They were the once that took care of everyone but would forget to take care of themselves in the process.

“The sun will not come up for a couple of hours Aris, why don't you try to sleep some more?” Thomas's thoughts brought him back to a place where he wanted to be alone again and Aris really needed some good sleep after his nightmare so Thomas thought: two birds with one stone.

“Yeah. Maybe that's a good idea. You ok sitting here alone? Not going to ogle on a certain someone?” There was a smirk on Aris's face again and Thomas was glad that after their not so pleasant conversation the boy could still tease him.

“Yeah I'm definitely capable of looking over a bunch of smelly boys while they sleep.” His smirk was matching Aris and after a non verbal good night nod he went back to his previous place and shut his eyes. Hoping that this time hes not plagued with dreams of dying girls.

The rest of the short night was uneventful. No one woke up, no one had anther nightmare and for once the Gladeres were well rested. Well as well rested as you could be while sleeping on sand with nothing to help keep the wind away. They all had small portions of food that they had brought with them. Water canteens where handed around and shared. And after thirty minutes of “breakfast”, and a small comment from Frypan how this was the worst breakfast he had ever seen, they packed up their things and made their way back to the mountains.

Words were few and far between because they all wanted to save their energy for walking. Here and there were murmurs from conversations of countless of meaningless things. Minoh and Newt walking together sometimes talking about their old home. Frypan whistling a song no one except him knew. Theresa and Aris walking without any contact to another person. Thomas was about to make a full circle to see where the last one of their fellowship was when someone tapped on his left shoulder. Making him spin in that direction and coming face to face with the one that was missing.

“Hey”

God even her voice was mysterious and quiet. Small but without a doubt people would listen to anything she would say. He was kind of curious what she wanted from him. She was never the one that sought out talking to anyone but Aris.

“Hey, whats up?” Really that was his answer? He couldn't come up with something better?

“What you did last night was really kind of you.”

What did she mean by that? Thomas face must have portrayed his confusion because there was a small smile growing on Y/N face. One that he wanted to stay there.

“That you helped Aris with his nightmare and listened to him.” Her eyes landed on the boy that walked a couple of meters in front of them. Making sure that he was there and ok.

“You were awake?”

“Yeah, I heard him struggling to stand up and just as I wanted to call to him he went to you. After I knew he was ok with you I fell back asleep”

“Oh....how much did you hear?” His voice wobbled a little at the end.

“Well I heard Aris walking to you and telling you about his nightmare. Caught how he told you what happened to Leena.” She paused after that for a second. Pain and loss seeped into her eyes. As to not dwell on the sad topic she pulled the best, fake, believable smile on her face and with the next words she made Thomas's face red in seconds.

“I also heard that you sometimes stare at me.”

“Well..I- that's not...” He felt like his eyes bulged out of his scull. What do you respond to that? His face was stuck in an expression of shock and dread. How the hell can he answer to that without sounding like a creep or idiot. His fumbled attempt to save his dignity was interrupted by the most beautiful sound he ever heard.

Y/N was laughing. Actually laughing. He was sure that even the others were pausing and looking at her. Well at them more precise. Her holding her stomach a little and him looking like he'd seen crank on a unicycle. It was the surrealist sound he could have ever heard in the Scorch. Not because it was out of this world or anything, no.

Because Y/N laughing, here in this deep pit of sand, was just not fitting for the scene.

But, he never wanted her to stop.

It filled him with longing for something he couldn't tell. Something warm and pure. Something whole and save. True and upholding. Something you didn't find in the Scorch.

In the short minutes her joyous sound filled the air all seemed right. Thomas looked at her again and couldn't help but laugh as well.

After a few breathers Y/N caught herself and with slightly red cheeks she turned to the boy.

“Don't worry Thomas, I sometimes stare at you too.”

WHAT? She couldn't mean it like he thought and does himself right?

“I mean we are basically all strangers, being literally thrown into a huge litter box of shit and then fighting for our lives again. It's normal to be paranoid and keeping an eye on one another. Making sure no one does something wrong”

'Oh, she did it out of distrust.' Thomas couldn't really blame her. He knew what she went through, hell he went through it himself and only for a month. She was stuck in her maze for only she knows how long. But she talked to him know. She must have seen something in him to open up even only a smidge. That was a start and he would take it.

“Well I originally wanted to talk to you because....I wanted to say thank you.”

A pause and their eyes met. Thomas could see only honesty in her and the warm feeling slowly made itself known again.

“For taking care of Aris and....and for taking us with you when we were all back at WICKED. I don't know what would have happened to Aris and I if you hadn't taken us with you. Even with all the paranoia and distrust you still did. So really.. thank you.”

He was at a loss of words. Again. The only thing he did was nod his head and letting out an almost breathy “sure”. With only a small smile on her lips, one that caught his eyes and made them stuck there for a moment longer then intended, she slowly made her took steppes away from him and made it back at the end of the group.

After processing what just happened he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude she talked to you and you totally made an idiot of yourself. Nice going. Next time try to use words not not catch flies with your mouth man.”

Minho, helpful as always. With his bantering words he friendly slapped Thomas on his shoulder and went back next to Frypan. 'You would look even more ridiculous with your hair sticking up in all directions.' But his buff friend was right with one thing. He really needed to use his words next time and not make himself look like a fool.

Next time he would do it. He would talk to her like a normal human being and not blabber like a six year old. He would discover more from her past, well the things she's willing to share with him, and get to know her better. Somehow he truly needed to know her. Or know her again? All this thinking made his head a bit woozy. But then again that could be the heat and dehydration.

But one thing was for curtain. Tonight he would make a plan so he could talk to her again. He would lay under the stars, watching over his friends, hoping that the memory of her laughter would lull him to a peaceful sleep.

______

Let me know if you guys liked it and I hope you all have an amazing day/night ✨

#maze runner #maze runner imagine #maze runner x reader #the scorch trials #the scorch trials imagine #death cure #thomas #thomas x reader #maze runner thomas #thomas imagine #thomas x y/n #my work #thomas fic

[lesbian-deadpool]

Special Soul-mark

Part One Of Two: Family Matters

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Modern AU, Soulmate AU

Words: 2,398

Warnings: Referenced child-abuse, childhood teasing, detailed injures.

Request: For the Anon who donated to the Australian Bushfires.

Summary: How you finally met your soulmate.

A/N: Just an FYI, I’ve never seen Family Matters lol.

(Not my GIF)

***

“They’re a clumsy one.” You overheard your mother say behind you, to some of her friends, as you, at five-years-old, played in the grass with your own friends.

“Who is, mommy?” You turned around to ask, just as curious as every child, to the world around them.

“Your soulmate, honey.” She pointed to the marks littering your skin.

Looking down your eyes found a small scratch on the inside of your forearm.

You remembered the day you learned about soulmates. You had been in the bath, your mother washing the dirt from your face, after jumping around in muddy puddles with your father. You had been remembering how all the kids teased you at school, for having so many cuts and bruises covering your body. When you asked, “Why do I have these?” You drew your arms out in front of you, as to give your mother a better look at what you were talking about.

But she knew.

Of course, she knew.

She had, after all, been waiting for this moment for a long time.

They’re from your soulmate, Honey.” She tried to have a bright smile covering her face as she told you this. Knowing how confused you were by some of the children's teasing. But they, thankfully, had it all sorted out now, after going to the principle and complaining. “You have a very special “soul-mark” if they get a bruise or scratch. So do you.”

“It’s special?” you asked, voice full of wonder.

“Yes.” She nodded, overexcited for your sake.

It wasn’t special really. Just less common than the others. Most people have tattoos, timers, red strings around their pinkies, some even had the first place their soulmate would ever touch them.

One in one-hundred-thousand had the same soul-marks as you. So, nowhere near ‘special’. Just less likely.

But, you didn’t have to know that now, did you?

Not until you undoubtedly find out in your later years.

Right now? Yeah. You could think it was special.

“Why don’t they hurt?” was your next question.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “No one truly does. I’m sure there’s some scientist’s out there with an explanation to it all. But I like to think that it’s because your soulmate never wants to hurt you.”

“When will I meet them?”

“That I also don’t know,” she said, lifting you out of the dirty water, and rubbing you dry with a soft fluffy towel. “Everbody has their own time. You’ll have yours too, baby.”

“They must be very wobbly on their feet.” She pulled you out of your memories. Since that day, you had been excited to find your soulmate. But you remembered your father's words, that same night as he put you to bed.

“You’ve just got to wait for them. They’ll be worth it when you finally find them.”

So you were patient. And you would be for however long you needed.

“What if they’re not though?” One of her friends whispered, as you passed two of your tiny fingers over the small scratch on the inside of your forearm.

“I don’t want to think about it,” she whispered back. Obviously unknown to the face that you were still listening, “Because if that’s the case, there's nothing I can do to help.”

You didn’t understand what they had been talking about, until years later.

It had stopped a few weeks after that. Much to your parents' joy. But not so much to yours. You liked seeing the marks sometimes. It reminded you that your soulmate was out there, waiting for you, just as you were them.

But you were glad that they were “Being less clumsy and hurting themselves.”

***

It wasn't until years later that something to that extent had happened.

Not to say that your soulmate never got hurt, during that time. Just like you did.

A paper-cut here. Cat scratch there. The random bruise somewhere. Grazed knees, and palms. A bump on the head. The normal injuries that kids tended to inflict on themselves.

You were fourteen, and intently finishing your homework, at the kitchen table. When your father, who sat across from you, started calling out, after randomly glancing up at you.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!"

"What's wrong, honey?" your mom called through from the hallway to your father. As you looked up at him curiously, only to see him pointing directly at your face.

"What?" you asked him confused.

"Your nose."

"My. What?" You were still confused, as you reached your hand up to wipe the side of your forefinger under your nose. Pulling it back to see it covered with blood. Said red liquid pouring down your hand, and dripping profusely onto your homework, that you had been working so hard on.

"Holy shit!" you exclaimed, pushing your chair back and away from your work.

"Language," your mother chided, a smile in her voice, as she walked through the kitchen door, your baby brother in her arms. Before her voice grew scared and frantic, once she had noticed all of the blood now soaking the floor, as your father moved around the table to get a better look at you, "What happened?!"

"Her nose just started bleeding."

You raised your head to peer at your mother.

"Fuck!" It was her turn to exclaim.

Your dad whispering, "Christ." With his hand upon your shoulder.

"What?" you asked almost scared to know the answer.

Raising to your feet you walked through your open plan home, towards the mirror hanging in the living room.

"Mother of God!" you said, finally seeing your appearance.

Blood coated the bottom of your face, very clearly coming from your nose, it still bleeding as it seeped into your, now ruined, white shirt. The bridge of your nose dark grey, with the intensity of the bruise. Eyes black and blue. Right cheek cut open, along with a bruise on your left temple. And to finish it all off, your lips were busted in many places.

And all you could utter at the view of yourself, while your father came up behind you, holding your shoulders comfortingly, was, "What happened to them?"

***

You were sixteen the next time it happened.

You were at school, sitting at the lunch table. Smiling and chatting away, when your friends pointed it out.

You removed your hand from where you were leaning your face against it. Peering down at your knuckles.

They were beat up. Scratched and bruised. Red-raw, and bleeding slightly.

You checked to see if your other hand was the same.

It was.

"Huh," you said, upper body jostling as you did, "They mush have gotten into a fight."

"It looks like they've beaten the shit out of whoever they were fighting."

"Yeah." You smiled. Memories of two years ago flashing in your mind. And you couldn't help but feel immensely proud to see them fighting back. And winning, considering your friends hadn't pointed out any injuries adorning your face. "Hey, if you think this is bad, you should see my feet."

"What?" your friend that sat beside you asked, incredulously.

"Yeah." You nodded. "They're fucked up. Have been for years. I think they do ballet."

"Damn, you're gonna marry a Ballet Dancer one day," a third friend said, his booming laugh coming out, as he continued, "Be careful. They could choke you with the strength of their thighs."

"If I'm lucky." You smirked, as your friends laughed at your joke.

***

"Hey, Y/N/N?"

Looking up, you spotted your six-year-old brother as your door. A plate of Christmas themed cookies held in his small hands.

You smiled at him, as he beamed at you.

"Hey, buddy. What's up?" you asked as he came into your room, haphazardly climbing onto your bed. You moving the plat from where he had set it down on your bed, so that the goodies on top didn't end up everywhere, and was easier for the small boy to find a seat on your bed.

He moved to sit closer to you, almost directly in front of where you lounged on your side, where you were finishing off one of your college assignments. You placed the plate in front of him. So he could help himself to them. Knowing that your parents had probably sent him up with the home-baked cookies, to give to you. But knowing even better, that he definitely wanted some of them.

"Nothing," he finally replied. Picking up a Christmas tree cookie, handing you a Santa one.

You thanked him softly.

Taking a bite out of Ol' St Nicks face, you asked, "Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?"

You could read the kid like an open book. He was your brother, you were his best friend, as he had proclaimed on many occations. And he, of course, was one of yours.

So, you obviously knew when he wanted to talk to you about something.

Hastily shoving the rest of his cookie into his mouth, as you chuckled at the boy's antics. Watching as he pulled up the arm of his sweater. Showing you the scribbles there. Thrusting his arm excitedly in front of your face, almost like you had with your mother, many years ago.

"My soulmate talked to me, for the first time!" he said excitedly, around a mouthful of cookie.

Studying the neat -well, as neat as it could be for a child- handwriting. You read the small conversation of them wishing each other a happy holidays.

"Oh my, God," you said happily, reaching over to squeeze lightly at his shoulder, "That's amazing, bud!"

He smiled excitedly, bouncing up and down lightly where he sat.

"Have you talked to your soulmate yet?"

"Not yet, kiddo." His face fell at your words, obviously wanting you to meet your soulmate just as much as you did. "Don't worry, though. It will happen when it's meant too."

"But how will you know it's them?"

"We'll have the same marks," you assured him, "Or one of us will get hurt in front of the other. Something like that."

He laughed. "That would be funny."

"Yeah, it sure would, kid." You nodded towards the plate, "You want another?" He nodded. "Yeah, well pass me another one while you're at it."

He threw one at your face, it hitting its mark, causing him to burst out in a loud giggle.

"Tell your soulmate I'm sorry."

"Why?" he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side, akin to a small puppy-dog.

"Because I'm gonna tickle their soulmate until they're begging for mercy."

"Wait- No, Y/N! Please!" he squealed. You picking him up and laying him below you, tickling at his sides, and blowing raspberries against his neck.

The sounds of his tortured laughter reverberating to where your parents sat downstairs, in the living room. Bright smiles tugging at their faces.

***

You had moved to New York not long after graduating university. Being lucky enough to have an immediate position at one of Stark Industry's many branches.

Six-months to the date, you've been working there. And in that time you've bonded with your co-workers, managed to get your bosses to love you. And met, and become friendly with Tony Stark, on one of his visits. Being pleasantly surprised by how nice he truly was.

Two weeks ago, he had given you two tickets to some ballet, because you had mentioned that your brother was involved in gymnastics.

It isn't the same thing. But he tried.

And now you got to drag your eleven-year-old brother to a ballet recital, under the false pretence of "If we don't go, my boss will fire me!" Ah... to torture your siblings over a two and a half-hour period.

Even at the expense of your own sanity.

Okay...

So, maybe you were wrong.

The ballet wasn't bad.

At. All.

You both enjoyed it immensely.

Your brother for the story. And you also for the story... amongst other things.

"Y/N's got a crush," your brother sing-songed to you, in a whisper, during the performance.

"Shut the fuck up," you sing-songed back.

He wasn't wrong.

The red-headed star of the show had taken you whole interest. Not only for the way she danced. She was graceful, of course. Talented. You could see how passionate she was, and how long she must have trained for this. But not only that, she was stunning beyond belief. You can't remember ever seeing someone half as gorgeous as her, she was the most beautiful woman you had ever, and were sure you would ever see.

"Oh. No, I was wrong," Will started, smugly, "You're in love with her."

You inhaled deeply through your nose as he smirked beside you, you began whispering to yourself, repeatedly, "If I leave him, my parents will kill me."

"They will."

"I'm gonna leave him."

***

"Isn't your soulmate a Ballerina?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows as you entered your apartment.

"No," you said clearly, throwing your keys onto the coffee table, "They do ballet, has done for years, that's for sure. But that doesn't mean they're a Ballerina."

"But there's a big possibility that they are," Will continued, in that same teasing voice he had before at the ballet.

"And there's a big possibility that they aren't," you counteracted.

"Aww, c'mon, Y/N!" he whined, "You know you were making 'goo-goo' eyes at her."

"That means nothing-"

"Yes, it does!"

"That doesn't mean she's my soulmate," you corrected.

He wiggled his eyebrows at you once again. Being siblings you got to torment them. But, sadly, they also got to torment you, too.

"I should have left you at the ballet." You smiled, turning away from him as he laughed.

"Maybe you should, then I could have met your soulmate before you do."

You groaned flinging your head back.

***

You had seen your brother off two days ago, waving to him as he boarded the plane with your father. And now you were free from torture.

You were at work when Tony had called you into his office, a big smile on his face, as he stood up from his seat, gesturing to the red-headed woman stat before him. Who turned their attention to you, smiling slightly. You instantly recognising them as the Ballerina that had stolen your attention, only a few days ago.

"Y/N Y/L/N," Tony started, "I'd like to introduce you to Natasha Romanoff. You're soulmate."

#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

[rpf-bat]

Scream Out ‘What Will Save Us?’

Pairing: Frank Iero x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Written for Gothtober 2020, Day 15. Prompt: “Catharsis.” 

Your band just broke up, and you’re trying to force yourself be okay with that. But, when you visit Frank, at his home in New Jersey, he advises you to be honest with your feelings. You find that he has some things to get off his chest, too. 

It had been six months now, since My Chemical Romance broke up. You hadn’t done much since then, except move back to your house in New Jersey, and….sit there. For the last eleven years of your life, you’d drummed for a living, and life had moved to a frenetic pace. There was always another city to travel to, another show to play. But, now? Life was suddenly at a standstill. 

You didn’t have to do anything for a living now, you supposed. The royalties alone, could probably sustain you, for years to come. Perhaps a millionaire like yourself, had no right to complain. Bullets You would, after all, kill to have Current You’s problems. 

But, having lived at both extremes, you found that being functionally homeless, in a dirty van with your four best friends, was more enjoyable, than being all alone, in this spotless mansion. You hadn’t joined My Chemical Romance to make money. There were other things that mattered more - the joy of spending time with friends, who slowly became more like family. The creative fulfillment, of writing a piece of music, and then having ten thousand fans sing along with the tune. These were the things, that made your life meaningful. 

These were the things, that you had now lost. 

The Way brothers - who, up until recently, had felt like your own brothers - were still residing in Los Angeles. Ray, too, had stayed on the West Coast. You hadn’t seen them since the decision was made, to disband. You weren’t sure that you even wanted to. 

But Frank - good, old, loyal Frank, who had known you longer than any of them - was merely a few miles down the road. Perhaps today was a good day to pay him a visit. 

You called him on your cell, and he answered the phone, almost immediately. Like you, he probably had nothing better to do. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Frank said in a tired voice. “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Just bored, I guess. How are you?” 

“Not so good,” Frank confessed. “I’ve been having, like, the worst stomachaches.” 

“Oh, no,” you said sympathetically. “Do you want me to bring you some medicine?” 

“The doc says I have a bacterial overgrowth of the small intestine,” Frank explained. 

“What does that mean?” you asked. 

“It means your drug-store Pepto ain’t gonna do shit for me,” Frank chuckled bitterly. “I got prescription pills for it, but it still hurts like a bitch. Some company might take my mind off the pain, though.”

“So...I can come over?” you asked hopefully. 

“Please do,” Frank agreed. “It’ll at least give me a reason, to get out of bed.” 

You chose not to mention that, at two o’clock in the afternoon, you had yet to find a reason to get out of bed yourself. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Frank’s house was nowhere near the main road. You had to drive through nearly half a mile of trees, just to reach his front door. He had selected this property partially because he loved nature - and partially because hated people. 

You supposed you couldn’t blame him, for trying to avoid having nosy fans show up on his doorstep. The only person who always seemed welcome on his doorstep, no matter the hour, was you. 

You found him sitting on his front steps, his acoustic guitar in his hands. The melody he was playing drifted over the air, as you got out of the car, and approached him. 

“Is that...Disenchanted?” you recognized instantly. 

“,,,..Yeah,” Frank sighed, his inked hands ceasing their strumming. “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi, Frankie,” you frowned. “What made you decide to play that one today?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said sadly. “Doesn’t it feel strange to you? Knowing that we’re never going to play that song onstage again?”

“Or any of them,” you noted. “If I had known that set at Bamboozle would be the last gig we ever played, I would have tried harder, to make it count.” 

“You and me both,” Frank said wistfully. “But, anyway….it’s a nice day. Do you want to take a walk with me?” 

“Sure,” you nodded, extending your hand to help him up. “As long as you’re feeling up to it.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Frank assured you, groaning as he stood. “C’mon.” 

You followed him, around the house, through his backyard, and from there, into the woods, that sat behind his home. The trees were beginning to lose their leaves, and the sky has turned overcast, and grey. Summer, you supposed, was just another thing that wouldn’t last. 

“Careful,” Frank warned, “there’s a brook up ahead.” 

You saw that was what he said was true. The small body of water separated the hill from the valley, in the same way that a garotte wire separated a head from a neck. 

“Take my hand,” Frank offered. “I don’t want you to fall.” 

You found yourself blushing, as his calloused fingers, intertwined with your own. He pulled you up onto a rock, in the center of the brook.  

“Are we going to have to jump?” you guessed. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Frank said softly, “I got you.” 

He leapt from the rock, to the other side of the brook. Still holding hands, you leapt with him. Just as he’d promised, you made it to the other side safely. 

“It’s just a little further now,” Frank assured you. 

“What is?” you wondered. 

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically. He could have let go of your hand, but instead, he kept it held tightly in his own. You didn’t mind. 

“....Whoa,” you gasped, as you realized, that you’d arrived at your destination. You were at the top of a cliff. From here, you could see the whole city, stretched out before you. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Frank admired. 

“Yes!” you gasped. “Thank you for bringing up here! The view was totally worth the hike.” 

“I’m lucky as hell, to have a hidden gem like this, on my property,” Frank confessed. “I like to come up here sometimes, when I need to think.” 

“....What have you been thinking about lately?” you asked, sitting down on a boulder. 

“What happened with the band, of course,” Frank admitted, sitting down beside you. “I just….I don’t know. Gerard’s decision felt so sudden. It was like having the wind knocked out of me.” 

“Yeah,” you recalled. “It was like….it wasn’t fun anymore to him, so he just….dropped it. Like it was nothing.” 

“I’m not gonna pretend, that being in My Chem, was sunshine and roses all the time,” Frank acknowledged. “Sometimes, touring sucked.” 

“It did,” you admitted. “I hated the early bus calls, and the jet lag, that never seemed to go away. But, I don’t know. It was worth it, to go through all that, if it meant I would end my day, on a stage with you.” 

“I guess it wasn’t worth it to him anymore,” Frank frowned. “But, what can you do? You can’t continue a band, without its frontman.” 

“I guess our time was just up,” you shrugged. “All we can do, is move on.” 

“I know it was messing up his mental health, trying to write the new record,” Frank said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. “It’s not right for us to ask him to keep doing something that’s hurting him.” 

“You’re right,” you sighed. “It’s not fair, to risk causing him another relapse, or something, just because we thought the album could’ve gone somewhere.”

“But now, you and me?” Frank grumbled, lighting a cigarette, and taking a drag. “We’re not gonna go fucking anywhere.” 

“We’re right back where we started,” you realized. “Stuck in the same little town in New Jersey, where it all began.” 

You and Frank, had been in another local band, called Pencey Prep. That band had broken up, and then Gerard, had asked you two, to join My Chemical Romance. Even before you’d become a member, you’d known just from listening to the demos, that this band would be something special. They’d captivated every soul, in the shitty dive bar, where you’d gone to see them play. 

After you and Frank joined their ranks, things began to pick up speed so quickly. Local bars, turned into clubs on the other side of the state. And then you’d attracted the interest of a major label. And then, the next thing you knew, you were playing in fucking Japan. Clubs turned into arenas. Obscurity turned into infamy. You’d done things, you never thought, you would have an opportunity to do.  It was a wild ride. And it was….over now. 

“It makes me want to scream sometimes,” you said honestly. 

“So, do it,” Frank said, exhaling smoke. 

“....What?” you blinked, staring back at him. 

“Go on and scream,” he suggested. “I mean, we’re in the middle of nowhere. Nobody’s going to hear you, except for me.”

“You’re serious?” you gaped. 

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “Honestly? I think it would be cathartic.” 

He had a point - you’d been trying to hold a lot of emotions inside you, since everything went down. Maybe what you really needed, was to let them out. 

You went and stood, on the edge of the cliff, and looked out, onto the horizon. You took a deep breath, and tilted your head back. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”  you cried.

You turned back, and saw that Frank was laughing. 

“....Did that feel good?” he grinned. 

“....Honestly, yeah, it did!” you admitted. It felt even better, to see a smile on his face, for the first time today. 

“You should just...feel what you feel, Y/N,” Frank advised. “You say we’re supposed to move on, and maybe that’s the narrative the fans want to hear. Like, they’re sad that they’ll never hear their favorite band live again. And it makes them feel better, to think, well, the band members did this, because it’s what made them the happiest.” 

“But, we don’t feel happy,” you argued. “At least, not all of us do.”

“What do you feel?” Frank asked seriously. 

“I feel….lost,” you described. “Like, I don’t know what my next move is supposed to be. The whole world knew me as My Chemical Romance’s drummer, for pretty much all of my twenties. Now, I’m hitting my thirties and...I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where we go from here.” 

“Well, I know that I want to keep making music,” Frank decided. “Even if nobody else wants to hear it, I’ll play it for myself.” 

“I want to hear it,” you said seriously. “Did you write something recently?” 

“Yeah,” Frank said shyly, stubbing his cigarette out into the dirt. “I actually did start writing a song, the other day.” 

“Play it for me,” you pleaded. 

“I don’t know,” Frank blushed. “I wrote some lyrics, but….you know I don’t have the gift for singing, that Gerard does.” 

“You sang in Pencey,” you reminded him. 

“Yeah, that was twelve years ago!” Frank scoffed. “Who knows if I even remember how?” 

“I know you can do it,” you encouraged him. 

“The lyrics, they’re not all that nice,” Frank warned. “I didn’t write them to be radio friendly. I just wrote them, because I needed to get the thoughts out of my head.”

“You needed your catharsis,” you nodded understandingly. 

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “But….if you really want to hear it, Y/N, I’ll play it for you.”

He took out his guitar, and set it on his lap. Hesitant fingers plucked the strings. You listened, with rapt attention, as he began to sing: 

Some things change but they don't get better

I'm so sick and so tired of trying to tell them that

I'll never do it, no I'll never make it alone

But pay no mind, it fades in time

Don't we all?

Someone I love threw me away 

Someone I love threw me away

Someone I love threw me away

But I don't mind, no I don't mind at all

“That’s bullshit, Frank,” you interrupted. “You do mind.” 

“.....Of course I fucking mind,” Frank snapped. He looked up from his guitar, and you realized, that he had tears in his eyes. 

You moved over to where he sat, and pulled him into a hug. 

“It’s okay,” you told him gently. 

“It’s not,” Frank shook his head. “I gave my blood, sweat, and tears….my heart and my soul, to that band. I thought you and I were going to be in My Chemical Romance for the rest of our lives.” 

“What, like Mick Jagger?” you tried to smile. “Rocking out, even in his sixties?” 

“I don’t know,” Frank said, burying his face in his hands. “Maybe I’m the stupid one, for thinking that something like that, could last forever.” 

“You’re not stupid,” you said softly. “The truth is….I wanted it to last forever, too. It was the best thing I’d ever done. And now, I don’t know what else I can do with the rest of my life, that could even come close.” 

“If I decided to play that song, in front of other people, someday,” Frank asked, “would you play the drums for me?” 

“Of course,” you promised. “Frank, I’d jump at the chance to get onstage with you again. You should know that.”

“I feel like I don’t know anything anymore!” Frank said vulnerably. “Everything I thought I could count on, is slipping through my fingers. I feel lost. Just like you said. And  I’m aching all the time, Y/N. What if you’re the next thing, that I lose?” 

“I’ll never leave you, Frank,” you vowed. “It’s been you and me, from the very beginning. I couldn’t imagine a life that didn’t have you in it….in one way, or another.”

“You met me when you joined Pencey. But now, for the first time in my entire life, you’re not my band mate anymore,” Frank choked. “So…what am I to you?” 

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered, pulling him close. “And you could be more than that, if you wanted to.”

“Wh-What are you saying?” Frank gasped. 

“Frank….,” you took a deep breath. “The truth is, that I always wanted you. I never told you how I felt, because I thought, if we got into a relationship, and broke up, it would destroy our ability to work together. But….you’re right. We’re not bandmates anymore. So, I have nothing left to lose. I...I love you.” 

“You….love me?” Frank repeated, eyes wide. 

“Yes.” You put it all out there. “Yes, Frank, you’re the one I love. And if you would have me, I swear to you, I would never throw you away.” 

Frank surged forward, grabbing you by the collar, and pulling you in for a passionate kiss. Your startled mouth was suddenly full of his tongue. It felt so good. 

“....Frankie!” you gasped, pulling away. “You...you actually want me back?” 

“Of course I do,” Frank breathed. “It drives me absolutely fucking crazy, that we’ve both been burying our feelings this whole time, to protect a career, that no longer exists.” 

“...Then at least I still have you,” you whispered, and pulled him in again. He tasted like smoke and desperation. 

His body pressed against yours as he kissed you harder, pushing you down, against the hard rocks. His hands found the buttons of your blouse. 

“....Frank,” you stopped him. “We should go back down, to your house, if we’re going to do this.” 

“You’re right,” he chuckled. “My bed is a lot softer.” 

“Take me there,” you begged, laying your lips on him again. 

“Oh,” Frank promised, “I’ll take you all night.” 

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #gothtober #band member reader

[sukigirl17]

The Ladder of Love -SukixSokka Oneshot

Word Count: 4,379

"Can you count to six thousand?"

The question caught Sokka totally off guard one night while playing a game of Pai Sho with her. He gave Suki a puzzled look, and thought maybe this was a tactic she was using to make him lose his focus.

"What?"

"Six thousand," She repeated without looking up from the table. "Can you count that high?"

He didn't know how to respond at first. "Umm....yeah...."

All the sudden her face lit up and she smiled at him, seemingly forgetting that it was her turn. She then began talking wildly about a mountain on the other side of Kyoshi Island, where he had come to visit her for a few weeks, but that's when Sokka started to tune himself out. She started talking so fast and so excitedly that he had close to no idea what she was saying.  

All he could make out were the words stairs, old couple, six thousand, and tomorrow. He slowly started putting the words together in an effort to understand just what it was his girlfriend was talking about. According to Suki, there was an old couple who lived on top of the mountain.  

However, in order to get up the mountain, there were stairs.  

Six thousand of them.

And they were going tomorrow.

After he had finally comprehended what she had said, Suki didn't even give him a second to protest. Instead, she immediately hurried him off to bed, stating that he'll need lots of rest to climb the mountain tomorrow morning. Reluctantly, he decided to let his girlfriend do as she pleased, and he followed her instructions by going to bed earlier than he would've preferred. It's only a little hiking, he reasoned with himself as his head hit the pillow.

How hard could it be?

...

 "Want me to tell you a story while we climb?"  

"Oh no. Let my gasps for oxygen just fill your ears and appease you, my cherry blossom." Sokka rolled his eyes as he tried to catch his breath, sweat beading down his forehead. 

The sound of her laugh only made him wheeze harder. Suki had woken him up at the break of dawn and dragged him out across the entire island while he was half asleep. And just as he was finally awake, she showed him the mountain.  

When she told him that they were going to climb that mountain, he expected a hike that only lasted a few hours, and the stairs were just part of her favorite trail, but of course the universe wouldn't make his life that easy. 

There were actual stone stairs embedded into the mountainside, and they went all the way to the top. But that was the least of Sokka's problems. The fact that he had to climb them all made him want to pass out. 

And the counting drove him insane. Every step she made, she counted aloud what number of stairs that had been.  

"I'll take that as a yes." She said, satisfied, still looking to the horizon as she hiked up the steps confidently. "This is the story of a couple named Xu and Liu..."  

And yet she still counted.

Every few minutes or so, she would update him on the latest number of steps they had climbed, and it only made him want to drop dead right then and there. 337, she would say, 872, she would say again. And the cycle repeated the entire day.  

It wasn't until an hour or so in did Sokka actually begin to pay close attention to her story, and he had to admit, it wasn't horrible.

 "....And Liu was only six years old when he stood outside of the church where the wedding was being held. Legend has it that it's good luck for children who've lost their baby teeth to have a bride-to-be touch the inside of their mouth, and so he went inside and bit the bride's finger," She laughed. 

 Step Number 983

"That beautiful, sixteen year old bride was Xu. She was getting married to the richest man in the whole village. From that day on, Liu vowed that he would marry a girl like that someday. Sadly, Xu's husband died ten years later, leaving her a widow with her four children struggling to survive. They lived off mushrooms from this mountainside, and Xu made a living by making sandals and selling them in the marketplace."

She'd only allowed them to take a break twice, once for lunch and then again by a riverside. He watched as Suki plopped down into the grass, and he collapsed right next to her. She ran her hand through the water and smiled tenderly at her reflection. Sokka watched as she stood and lept onto a rock sticking out of the water and started hopping along.

"One night, Xu went to get water from a nearby river, with her youngest child riding on her back. Because it was so dark, Xu and her child had slipped and fell into the river. Liu just happened to be walking by when they fell in and he dived in to save them. He saved Xu's life, but unfortunately the child didn't make it, much to her despair."  

Suki wobbled when she mistakenly stepped on an unsteady rock, and Sokka jumped to catch her, but she eventually regained her balance and gave him a reassuring look. She hopped back over to the grass and Sokka let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. From then on, they started back up the mountain.  

Step Number 1,743

Sokka looked behind him again and his eyes lingered over the running water one more time. "That was the river," He mused aloud. "The river where they met. Wasn't it?"

Suki didn't answer him, but only smiled at him over her shoulder.

"Liu had always admired Xu from afar, and now this was his chance to get to know her. During this hard time, Liu helped the family out with everything he was able to; he helped them with all the things Xu and her kids had a hard time doing, and he and Xu grew closer. But being in a relationship with a man ten years younger than you was scandalous, and Xu became the victim of many, vicious rumors. It became too much for Xu, that she even asked to never see Liu again. That night, however, Liu snuck into her house and proposed. The next morning, Xu, her children, and Liu were gone from the village without a trace."

2,682

Sokka soon found himself being engulfed in the sound of her voice and entranced by her story. It surprised him that he was so interested and had totally forgotten about his shortness of breath and the burning feeling in his legs. He would skip up the steps a little faster than usual just so he could hear her better.

4,021

"Xu and Liu escaped to their mountain life in a small, abandoned hut made of straw. They grew their own crops, fished in the river, and built a sturdier home out of clay and mud from the mountain. They did everything by themselves, even went through childbirth without any medical assistance.

"Xu and Liu had seven children all together; four of Liu's kids and three from her previous marriage. As their children grew up, and settled down in the outside world, Xu and Liu still remained attached to their private, mountain life. And the only bridge between their secluded kingdom and the world below was a narrow, steep, dangerous path down the side of the mountain.

"Because of this dangerous trail, Liu worried for his wife's safety when traveling back to the village. He began hand-carving a stairway into the mountain side for her to walk down." Sokka looked below him, and at the step his foot was currently resting on. His eyes widened a fraction, and he finally understood the reason for her telling this story to him.  

"Over the span of fifty-seven years, thirty-six broken chisels, and six thousand steps later, Liu had finally finished his stairway which we now know as the 'Ladder of Love'."

4,999....

Sokka's eyebrows furrowed when she didn't continue.

"Wait, what are you doing?" He asked her as she wandered off the path and into the grass near a tree. She started to take her pack off her shoulders and laid her sleeping bag underneath the tree. "W-we can't stop now! We have exactly one-thousand-and-one steps left, we're almost there!"

"Sokka, we've hiked all day. We have to get some rest, and it's dangerous to climb the stairs at night. You know what happened to Xu and the river."

 "Okay, yeah, maybe you're right. But we still have about 20 minutes before the sun sets. We could still-" 

"There's only rocks and dirt around the stairway from here on. This is the best spot we’ll find to camp. Let's just sleep here and then we'll get back on the road in the morning. I promise."  

He gave a worried glance towards the steps, and then back at her. Now that he thought about it, he was feeling pretty worn out. Since he wasn't ignoring it anymore, Sokka felt a rush of fatigue wash over him. He let out a sigh in surrender. "Okay...I guess we can rest for a little while..." He dejected. "But we’re finishing this thing! Right when the sun rises, bright and early!"

Suki chuckled at his newfound determination. "Deal," She told him, smiling even wider as he laid his sleeping bag down next to hers.

She smirked when he scooted closer to her.

"What?" He asked, pretending to be defensive. "It's cold up here in the mountain air. You can't just let me freeze to death."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." She replied, nestling closer to him as he wrapped her tightly in his arms. "Good job today," She mentioned. "I honestly didn't think you had it in you. The climbing is really difficult, among other things." Sokka took a moment to ponder what she said. He heard her chuckle again beneath him. "Six thousand's a pretty high number, Sokka."

And he then realized just what she meant by that.

He had been counting the steps as well.

 ...

Now it was Suki's turn to be woken up way too early for her liking. He wasn't kidding when he said they had to get on the move when the sun rose, although he had been packing their things long before then. He woke her up with a gentle kiss on her forehead. But when that didn’t get her moving, he ripped her pillow out from under her head and started smacking her with it.

 Suki let out an annoyed grunt and turned to lay on her stomach, but that only gave him the opportunity to sit on her back. "You're abusing your privileges of pillow use," She mumbled, face down into the grass as he kept hitting her.

"Come. On." He said between hits. "We. Have. To. Go."  

 She smiled sleepily as she rolled over suddenly, causing him to fall as she sat up. "Are you really ready to go so early? Aren't you even a little bit sore?"

He shook his head vigorously. "Nope. Not me. In fact, I've been awake for hours."

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"It’s funny to watch you drool in your sleep."  

She threw her pillow in his face and rolled her eyes.

Sokka let out a laugh as he helped her back onto the stairway. It made Suki happy to hear him counting this time. It was even a little difficult to keep up with him, his rushed hops up the stairs made her smile from ear to ear. "Five thousand and one, five thousand and two, five thousand and three, five thousand and four,"  

There was a point in time when Suki was so lost in watching him in the early morning sunlight, adoration spilling from her heart, that she lost track of time. Before she had time to process, they were walking up the last few steps and they were at the top.

“Is that a...house?” Sokka wondered aloud incredulously. Suki’s head perked up, and she pushed past him to see.

She inhaled at the sight and a wide grin spread across her face. “Think you’re up for checking it out?” She asked as she planted her hands on her hips.

Sokka smirked at her and then back at the house.

 “Well, we’ve made it this far.”

...

They cautiously made their way to the front door and knocked gently before taking a look around. There was a small garden growing to the right of the house, and a few chickens pecked around in a pen. Someone was clearly living here, but the question was who would want to live at the top of a mountain with the only way in or out was a six thousand step staircase?

Talk about a commute.

 Suki and Sokka heard rustling and the sound of glass breaking inside before Sokka knocked on the door again, a little harder this time, but the noise continued. The two looked at each other incredulously, they’re eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Then they heard a voice irately shout, “Go away!”

Both of their eyes widened. “Should we...” Sokka started.

“I don’t think...”

But before she could finish, Sokka knocked for the third time and they heard an outraged cry. More rustling filled their ears, the noise coming closer and closer to the door until it suddenly came to a stop.

The door opened a crack and a pair of eyes peeked out. Two bushy eyebrows were furrowed in annoyance and the pair of eyes merely glared at them for a short moment before opening the door further to reveal an elderly man with a white wild, untamed beard and hair. His frame was stout but short, his skin tan and wrinkled. He stood with his fists balled up as he sized both of them up. “Well?” He barked when neither of them said anything. “What do you want? It better be good considering you interrupted my breakfast!”

Suki and Sokka couldn’t help but stare at him for another short moment before glancing back at each other, then back at the man before them. He glared at them until huff fell from his lips and he growled, “Forget it!” as he went to slam his door.

Before he could, Sokka pushed his palm against the door to stop it from being shut. “Wait!” He exclaimed, and was relieved when the man didn’t try to slam it again. “We...just hiked this mountain using The Ladder of Love and-”

“Why do people keep calling it that!” The old man sneered, crossing his arms. “If I wanted to build a ladder, then I would’ve built a ladder! But it’s a staircase! A staircase that leads to my house, so I should get to name it myself!”

Both Suki and Sokka’s face melted into ones of shock once the realization hit them. Their mouths hung open as they watched the man before them, a man they thought didn’t exist, angrily ramble on. 

“-and I am so tired of couples from Kyoshi Village trespassing up here! I don’t care if it’s a betrothal tradition, I didn’t say my property could be a part of a tradition! People can’t make it a tradition without my permission and my permission is not granted!” 

Liu huffed heavily as he finished yelling and his outburst came to an end. After he shortly studied the kids’ clueless expressions, he sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re not...from Kyoshi Village, are you?”

Before Sokka could answer, Suki put her hand on his chest and quickly replied, “We are, but we had no idea anyone lived up here. We only hiked up here because of the myth of Liu and Xu-”

“Bah! Your village always liked to gossip! Our business could never be just our own!”

“So...the myth is true?” Sokka jumped in. “Are you actually Liu?”

His eyes narrowed into angry slits. “...If I say yes, will you go away?”

Sokka squealed with excitement. "So you really built all these stairs by hand? Without earthbending?!" He enthusiastically asked him. Liu nodded, much to Sokka’s delight. He loved meeting talented nonbenders. "That's amazing! You've created a monument single-handedly!"

 Liu only nodded again in acknowledgment. “Well...thanks, kid. No one’s ever talked about my work before, they usually just ask for my blessing on their marriage or some other mumbo jumbo.” Liu nervously scratched the back of his balding head. “At least you’ve got some taste.”

“Do you live all alone up here?” Suki gently asked him after she glanced around and saw no one else. “Where’s, um...”

“Xu?” Liu solemnly finished for her. Suki nodded, having a heavy feeling settle in her stomach. She and Sokka both had a feeling of where this was leading. Liu sighed, his eyes falling to the ground for a long moment. “My Xu became one with the spirits a few years ago. She...always loved visitors, but now I...it just...”

“It reminds you of the past, doesn’t it?” Sokka calmly interjected. Liu picked his head up to meet his gaze in surprise. His eyes were wet, but he didn’t try to hide it. 

“...Yes,” He whispered, sniffling as he used his sleeve to dry his eyes. “It does.”

“Well we’re sorry to bother you. Thank you for your time, but we’ll get out of your hair...er...” Sokka smiled nervously when he realized the man was balding and there were only small tufts of hair left on his head. “...Beard.”

 Liu narrowed his eyes at him.

“Thank you again!” Suki interrupted, taking Sokka’s arm as she started pulling him back towards the steps.

She waved back to Liu over her shoulder and smiled, and in that moment, a memory of Xu with that same smile flashed before his eyes. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it as he watched the young couple start down the stairs.

He grumbled, thinking there was a chance he’d regret this, but he hurried after them before shouting, “Wait!” He panted heavily as he came closer to them, and rested his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath.

 Liu then offered them both a small, tender smile before inviting them into his home for a cup of tea, much to Suki and Sokka’s surprise.   

They accepted, much to his surprise.

That had been the first time he smiled at them that day, but it wasn’t the last.

Liu told them the real story of his life, filled with colorful and exuberant details the young couple loved to share with the old man. They laughed together, and tears were shed, but most importantly, wounds started to heal for Liu on that day. He never thought sharing the story of him and his wife could be as mending as it was, as opposed to trying to forget their story to avoid the pain of his loss. He also never could have expected that two trespassers would grow to become some of his greatest friends.

...

They visited him often over the course of many years. Whenever they were on Kyoshi Island, Suki and Sokka would hike up the mountain to bring him food, souvenirs from other nations, or to simply catch up with Liu over a cup of tea. They’d share their stories of the other cities they’d seen, tell Liu about their friends, and he would teach them about the things he held close to his heart. He gardened with Suki, he taught Sokka how to raise livestock, and in return, they’d teach him about the world he had never seen.

Liu couldn’t have predicted he’d spend the last eight years of his life looking forward to these visits, nor could he predict he would become such a pivotal component in many of the young couple’s milestones together.

It was on his mountain when Sokka learned of the tradition in Kyoshi Village.

Women hike the mountain with the person they intended to marry. Some see it as a test, others see it as a good omen should they make it to the top. Sokka saw it as a confirmation that Suki felt the same way about him as he did her, and Liu can’t remember the last  time he laughed as hard as he did while he watched a gleeful Sokka start racing down the mountain to find her.

It was on his mountain where Sokka learned to carve into stone.

It was also on his mountain where Sokka first gave Suki the betrothal necklace that Liu only slightly took credit for. (He did teach the kid how to carve into the stone the pendant was made from, after all.)

It was on his mountain the first time Suki told Sokka they weren’t going to be able to hike the stairs for awhile because it would be hard for her to hike with a baby on the way.

(And the second time too.)

Liu watched these important moments pass for this couple, and it brought peace to his heart seeing a love as strong as the one he held of Xu grow right before his eyes. Beauty filled his life again, and he felt a warmth he hadn’t been able to remember for quite some time.

He was never a fan of goodbyes, though.

 When he knew the time had come, Liu sent a letter down to the village where it would wait for Suki and Sokka’s return to the island. 

And with the peace they had gifted him with settled deeply in his heart, Liu went home to Xu.

...

“Sokka!” Suki called from the front door into their house. Her husband had already taken the kids inside and started settling in. “We have a letter from Liu!”

“What?” He rounded the corner, a perplexed look adorning his face. He hugged her hips from behind and peeked over her shoulder. “That’s...weird. What’s it say?”

Both of their eyes glanced over his written words, but Suki tried to keep a gasp from escaping her lips by putting her hand over her mouth when she was about two lines in. Sokka’s lips fell slightly agape, and he hugged her tighter as tears pricked both of their eyes.

My friends,

Huh. I’ve said it all these years, and yet it still sounds odd. It’s odd to call you two my own friends. I hadn’t had any friends in a very long time before you two came along, and for you I am grateful.

We cannot have any more visits with each other. Not because I didn’t cherish and appreciate every moment I’ve spent learning and laughing with you kids, but because time passes too quickly for us to realize its pace. It’s time I find my way back to Xu, but I don’t leave without feeling slight sadness in knowing this means I won’t hear another one of your stories about your adventures in Republic City.

You are in the middle of rebuilding a world, one built for peace, and I am very proud to have watched you grow into the leaders you are in our community today.  

You have both given so much to me. So with a grateful heart, I will give this last thing to you before I go; in this letter is I hope you will find one last lesson and one last memory to make with your family.

Once Koda and Anaji are old enough, I hope you will bring them up to my mountain. I have come to understand and appreciate the importance of keeping mine and Xu’s story alive. You may share as much of it with them as you please, but going up my mountain will also allow you to share your story with your children as well. They will see the place where their mother and father first got engaged, be told how their parents met, and how they rebuilt Kyoshi Village together after they ended Thee 100 Year War as teenagers. They will hold these memories with them forever.

They will hike up my steps, which brings me to the last lesson I have for you. I have left my drafts and notes on how I constructed the staircase in my garden. Architecture is something I studied for many years as I made these stairs, and perhaps it will be helpful for you and your friends as you build the most peaceful city in history.

(You can finally stop pestering me for blueprints, Sokka.)

I will always be grateful to have known you. Thank you for trespassing all those many years ago. May your next victim be as lucky as I was.

-Liu

...

“Mom? Dad?” Suki and Sokka turned to see their 8 year old son staring at them with his wide, blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Suki wiped her eyes with her sleeve before getting down on her knees and putting her hands on her son’s shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetie.” She smiled at him tenderly. “But...” She looked back and Sokka for a moment. He turned towards her and nodded, returning her smile. “Why don’t you go get your sister?”

“I think we’re going on a hike.” 

#Sokka and Suki #suki #sokka #sukka #sukka fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #sokka x suki #romance #warriorsuki17 #suki x sokka #atla #atla fanfic #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanfiction

[forever-more-never-again]

Liquid Fire (A Request)

Requested: @rexburn12​

Word Count: 1805

Pairing: Alice Cullen X Reader

Warnings: Mention of death

Request: Hi, Rose can you do a one-shot where Fem Reader is The Last Dragon, is older than the Volturi and extremely powerful. She moves to Fork Washington for a new start, and lives in her territory next to the Cullens and opens her own Bakery. The Cullens Sense her presence, and feel how powerful she is, and wants to talk to her, and assert no problem happens so she doesn't destroy them( except Alice Reader is her mate).

Masterlist

It was a well known fact that Dragons used to roam the Earth many years ago. Powerful and free and looked upon like gods.

People would leave them offerings and pray for their protection and sometimes revenge.

But now Dragons are fairy tales. Something that isn’t real. Told to tiny children to make them believe in magic for a short while before they grow up and have to deal with taxes and mortgages.

But you knew different. Because you were a Dragon.

The last, as far as you knew. 

Living alone for so long was taking its toll on you. So for the first time in nearly three millenia, you decided to settle down in a town and make a life for yourself.

Which is how you found yourself touring the tiny town of Forks Washington with a realtor trying to find a shop to start your own Bakery in.

Baking had always been a passion of yours, and now, you could try to actually do something with it.

“And over here you could fit a couple stoves! Oh, and this shop is conveniently placed only a block away from the town hospital and sheriff's office!”

You paused the realtor at that, bewildered, “Why does that matter for a bakery?”

The woman paused, and her face grew nervous for a second, then she whispered, as if scared of being overheard even though you were the only ones in the Bakery, “Last year there were sightings of giant wolves! Like, huge! And the year before that, there were a ton of strange, unsolved murders in Seattle and near the boat marina here.”

As you digested that information, the woman went a full 180 and returned to her bright cheery disposition, “Anyways! Here is an on fire garbage can...could be a nursery.”

You choked, “I’m not pregnant!”

The lady wiggled her brows, “Not yet. Forks has many good looking people. Especially that Dr. Cullen. Whoo honey if he wasn’t already married I would climb him like a tree.”

Later that day you had to sign the forms making you the owner of the first bakery in Forks.

As you walked into the bakery for the first time as its actual owner, you smiled and breathed in deeply. And then got to work.

Being a Dragon. You had two forms. Your Dragonic form was huge, monstrous. The stuff of legends and knight in shining armors stories. It was a brilliant Ruby Red color and you missed the days you could soar in the sky without fear or restrictions. Nowadays if you want to fly, you have to go to Alaska or antarctica. And those were cold areas.

Your human form was normal. With [H/c] hair and [E/c] eyes, you passed for a human no problem. The only difference. You kept some of your Draconic abilities in your human form. Specifically, Fire breathing.

So with a smile on your face, you let out a rush of swirling heat from your mouth and lit the fireplace and the stoves.

Your first few weeks flew by without incident. A couple people came to check out the bakery and a few of the town folks loved to spill gossip.

And then you received a package.

Your nostrils flared as the scent hit you. Death. Decay.

The Volturi.

The Vampires who were the cause of your kinds extinction. 

When they rose to power, and your family chose not to accept their rule, they chose to try and fight them. You were left alive because you were ‘Special’. Aro, the head vampire, saw your human form, rare for dragons, and your ability to breath fire while in it, and had cackled with deranged glee and ‘allowed’ you to live. You sometimes wish you had been killed with your family.

...You swallow back your grief and carefully open the package.

Inside was a gorgeous bracelet and a letter.

A warning. 

To leave Forks.

Stay away from The Cullens.

And an invitation to join Aro’s army.

A simple sigh sent the letter up in ashes.

The Cullens must be important if the Volturi had their eyes on them. You would have to see what the fuss was about. But you weren’t about to leave Forks just because some stuffy Italian Vampires told you too. If they wanted to come and try to make you leave, you would love to watch.

You were about to close shop for the day when you caught a scent. It was similar, yet not.

Instead of Death and Decay. It was Death...and clean air. And fresh, and flowery. 

Vampires...but none like you have smelled before.

You decided to see what they would do as you resumed your position behind the counter right as several highly attractive people entered your shop.

Pasting a smile on your face, you welcomed them,Wondering about their strange golden eyes, unlike the blood red eyes of vampires you have met before. “Hi! I’m [Y/n], welcome to my bakery, what can I get for you guys?”

The older, blonde male smiled charmingly at you, “Hello. We just heard about your bakery and wanted to welcome you into town. I’m Dr. Carlisle Cullen, this is my Wife,” He wraps an arm around a brunette, “Esme, and our children.”

At this point, another blonde male, a blonde female, a hulky brown haired man and a slender man with his arms wrapped around another brunette girl stepped forward.

Dr. Cullen pointed to each as he introduced them, “Our twins, Jasper and Rosalie. Emmet, and Edward and his wife Bella. And … Where’s Alice?”

You interrupted, your smile tighter and your eyes practically searing holes through their skin, “I know who you are...and what you are.”

In those simple words, you caused them to tense and prepare for a fight.

Dr. Cullen, the obvious Clan leader, spoke softly, gently, as if trying not to spook a frightened animal, “I’m afraid we don’t understand [Y/n]. Just what do you think we are?”

You saw how Edward stared at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and Bella was focused on him, an energy coming off of her that was directed at him.

You returned your focus to Dr. Cullen, “Your eyes. How do you make them Golden instead of Red?”

You knew you didn’t answer his question, but the stiffening of his smile told you they knew that you knew they were vampires just based on that observation.

“You have us at a disadvantage [Y/n]. You know what we are, and yet...you are not mortal yourself and we do not know what you are.” This is spoken by the one called Esme, Carlisle’s mate if you had to guess based off the stench of the pair.

You growled lowly in the back of your throat, the sound animalistic, a warning. 

Edward spoke up, “Their mind...I can’t get a stable read, it keeps moving, as if something ancient...something else...is guarding it for them.”

Your Dragon self. You smirked. 

“First...your eyes. Are you like the Volturi or not?” You needed to know. You needed to be sure you were safe here.

Carlisle, well, all of them took a step back as if you had slapped them.

“No! We are nothing like those bastards!” That was from Bella. Her eyes filled with disgust at the notion that her family could be like them.

You nodded, “They are bastards.”

Carlisle smiled again, though it was still strained, “We liken ourselves to vegetarians. We drink from animals. Not humans. We want to live amongst them peacefully.”

Now that was different, and based off the looks in the eyes of the others, your shock and surprise was fairly obvious.

“Now,” Carlisle hardened his gaze a bit, “What are you?”

You opened your mouth to tell them, when the jingle of the bell over your door rang, and a tiny petite brunette girl waltzed through the door with a big smile and her caramel eyes set on you.

“They are a Dragon.”

Silence. Your throat was dry as this vampire just said your deepest secret like she was telling everyone the weather.

The vampires were frozen, statues and unmoving as they took in this new information.

“A-”

“-Dragon?”

The two blondes spoke at the same time then looked at each other in confusion.

It was too much at once, you began laughing. Hysterical laughter, clutching your stomach about to fall and roll on the ground laughter.

Everyone except for Alice were giving you looks of deep concern and slight fear.

“Dragons don’t exist…” Rosalie looked at Carlisle, “Do they?”

Carlisle stared at you, a doctor’s gaze, “I was with the Volturi for a while, you guys remember, and they often spoke about how they killed off the Dragons.”

Bella gasped, “Dragons were real?”

You straightened up and pointed a finger at the woman, a playful frown on your face, “Hey I am very real thank you very much.”

Carlisle kept talking, his eyes growing a distant look as he spoke of your families history, “Dragons were one of the first creatures to walk the Earth. They are older than the first Vampires. They live for thousands of years. They were revered as Gods. Until the Volturi came and began collecting abilities.”

You snorted, an ugly, harsh sound, “Yeah. Those Vampires they collected and managed to convince that the Dragons would kill them. Murder them. For fun. My people were kind!”

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you realized just how much you had been holding back for the past thousand years.

“I was left alive because I can do this.” You breathed a tiny stream of fire from your mouth, causing a chorus of gasps to erupt from the vampire clan before you.

Alice stepped forward, ignoring the looks from her family, her eyes drawing you in.

“I’d like to believe you were left alive, as I was, for a different reason. For this reason.” She gestured between the two of you.

You were justifiably confused until Edward cleared it up, “You’re mates.”

And that’s when it hit. The smell of flowers from earlier.

It was distinctly coming from Alice. And in Dragon Lore. The mates of Dragons were found because the other smelled like their favorite scent. 

Your eyes were wide, and Alice was grinning, but it was a nice, soft, smile, with a small hint of fear hidden behind it.

You smiled softly, coming from behind the counter to capture her cold hand in yours, “Well then, I guess I am staying in Forks after all.”

Alice giggled, “I could have told you that, I can see the future you know.”

Her eyes glinted with mischief and love.

Life was for sure about to become a lot more interesting since you moved to Forks.

FOREVER Taglist:

@sxph-t​ @mialeelavellan​ @rainydaysrnevergrey​ @platonic-plots​ @sociallyawkwardcircus-freak-hi​ @queenbbarnes​ @mythixmagic​ @chas-z​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @strangersstranger​ @princess-evans-addict​ @rororo06​ @timelordhunterandmysterysolver​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx 

#twilight saga #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight x reader #alice cullen #alice cullen x reader #the cullens #edward cullen #bella swan #Rosalie Hale #jasper hale #Carlisle #carlisle x esme #esme cullen #Emmett Cullen #volturi #vampire #vampire x reader #please give credit #please give feedback

[ecoamerica]

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[yandere-ac]

How about Zell or Beau?

Yandere Zell X Reader X Yandere Beau

Family

Journal entry: 689, 11 June 2020

It’s now day 1460 since we last saw our dear mayor. The others are saying that they aren’t coming back. That we should all move on. But I still have hope, I know them. They would never leave me! We’re beat buds! But it’s getting harder and harder everyday to keep hope up. I will never give up hope, I’ll keep hoping. For their sake

Zell sighed as he closed his journal. This is how life has been for him, every day for the past four years. The only thing he looked forward to in the morning was the possibility of maybe, just maybe, his mayor and close friend would return. But he can’t keep fooling himself, no matter how hard he tried. He knew the chances of you returning were next to nothing. He was worried that something could have happened to you, but even if something did happen, by now it’s too late to do anything about it. Most of the other villagers had already accepted this fact, but not Zell. No, never Zell. He couldn’t accept the fact that he would most likely never see you again. So he tried to trick himself into believing that there was still a chance he would get to see you again, by now, that thought was the only thing that kept him sane. But no matter, there was the tiny part of his mind that kept saying that he would never see you ever again. But boy was he wrong.

It was another day in the village, the sky was filling to the brim with dark clouds. All of a sudden the rain that was filling the clouds started to pour down hard. Now, this wasn’t your usual rain, no. This was much more violent. The rain was pouring down like the streams going down a waterfall, and anyone who was still outside had to get in quickly. One of those people was Zell. As he slammed his door behind him he stood in silence for a couple of seconds, letting the water drip onto the floor. This was his favourite shirt, and now, just like his mood, it was ruined. He threw off his shirt as it landed on the floor it gave off a lout splat. That was the shirt you gave him. It was the last thing he had from you. And now it was ruined, GONE...just like you...

It all crashed down on him in that moment, the realisation that he would never see you, that you could be hurt or worse, left the island without even caring about what he had to say. He felt his eyes sting, knowing that feeling all to well. He tried to fan his eyes but when that failed it only made his eyes well up more. Before he could calm himself he collapsed down into the ground. Hot tears rolling down his face. He did nothing to stop them, he just laid there. Letting his dreadful thoughts take over him. He cried and cried and screamed and cried. And when he couldn’t cry anymore, he laid on the ground, letting his breath return to normal. And then he stood up, went to the kitchen to make some tea, and when that was done, he went to go watch some tv.

Flipping through the channels he found nothing to watch, or at least anything he liked. That was until he saw what appeared to be some sort of interview of K.K. Slider. “This oughta do it” he said, eyes still red from crying. The interview was about some sort of visit that K.K. Had recently done.

“So tell me Mr. Slider, is it true that you hosted a private concert on the island (I/N) completely free of charge?” (I/N)? Zell has heard about that island. It was the island were Tom Nook lived with his two kids. Or well, what he could only assume was his kids, they looked very alike. But other than that he didn’t know anything else about the island.

“Ayup, sure did Francis” K.K. told the interviewer.

“Well, could we ask you why mr. Slider?” The interviewer, Francis asked.

“They seemed cool, and I had a deal with Mr. Nook. Heh, 'deal'. It sounds so formal and almost like I had a gun held to my head, but I can assure you. It was really fun. (I/N) is a really nice island, I actually stayed there for a while before I went back home” K.K. said. As he told his story, a bunch of pictures came up on the screen. They were seemingly taken by K.K himself, and yeah Zell had to admit, the island certainly looked nice. There were beaches and fruit trees and the folks looked really nice an- OH MY GOD!!!

Zell quickly stood up, the tea he was previously holding falling down to the ground, smashing into thousands of pieces. But Zell didn’t care, his eyes were glued to the tv screen. There, right on the screen, were a photo of K.K. and a human. A human that he would recognise any were. A human that he had spent years of his life with. A human that he had spent FOUR YEARS yearning after. It was you. You were alive! And you looked so different! Your hair looked different and you were wearing different clothes. But even then, Zell could still recognise you. You were holding your arm around K.K.’a shoulder and smiling to the camera. Zell didn’t know why but this made him feel...something. Anger? Sadness? Irritation? Whatever it was. He didn’t like it. But that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was you were alive and out there, which meant he could find you! (I/N) was it? Well, maybe it was time for him to buy an island getaway package. After all of this, he needed a vacation...

Another day, another opportunity. Beau was sitting under a tree, eating a donut and thinking about life in general. That’s when he heard a voice call out to him. “Beau! Over here!” He turned his head to where the voice came from, smiling as he knew exactly who it was. And there you were, running towards him with a big smile on your face. As you reached him you sat down besides him, taking a few seconds to catch your breath. “What’s up saltlick?” He asked, giving you a smile. “Hi Beau, I wanted to ask you if you’d like to have a picnic with me, Timmy and Tommy later? We’re gonna eat lots of cake” as you told him this his eyes lit up with joy. “Would I? Of course I wanna join you! When is it?” He exclaimed putting his hoofs together and giving you a raid, happy nod. You laughed a little at this, classic Beau. So quick to fall asleep whenever but lightning fast as soon as you mention food. “Well, we were thinking it would be around 2 pm when the boys have their break, think you could make it?” You asked him, Beau only responded to this with more rapid nodding.

The two of you talked a little longer until it was time for Isabelles morning announcement. You walked near one of the speakers by the plaza to hear a bit better. “Good morning everyone! Isabelle here with your morning announcement. Today we have a new neighbour joining us, so make sure to give them a warm welcome from all of (I/N). That’s it for today, have fun”

Oh? “We’re getting a new resident? Did you about this Y/N?” Beau asked you, looking very confused. “No, I wasn’t informed about this at all” you answered heading into the resident service.

As you entered, the sound of a bell pinging slightly came from the door. This made a certain Tanookis ears perk up as he quickly turned to the door with a smile. “Oh, Y/N. Come in, come in!” He said, as you sat down he could see how curiosity was gracing your features, like a small child following their guardian to ask them what they’re doing. “Hmm? Is something wrong?” He tilted his head and you could see Isabelle walk towards the both of you. “Hello Y/N! How are you doing today?” She asked with a large smile. This made you chuckle slightly, she was so adorable sometimes. “I’m doing alright but uhh...is there a new resident moving here today?” You asked, wondering about this new islander. “Oh yes! He asked to move in here in as soon as possible, I think he said it was very urgent and that he would pay to get a spot on this specific island. I of course told him that there’s no need for payment. But yes, he’ll be arriving here shortly, in a few hours I think” Tom answered you, pulling up some papers out of a drawer. “His name was...Zell! His name was Zell and he’s a deer” this made your heart stop...Z...Zell? “Mr. Nook-“ “Please Y/N, there’s no need for such formalities” “Oh, right. Tom, could I perhaps see a picture of...Zell?” You asked him, Tom nodded and handed you the file. As soon as the file was in your grasp you started to frantically flip through the notes, looking for something that would indeed affirm your hopes.

“Sorry that I held up your picnic boys” you told the two small tanookies standing besides you. You and a bunch of other residents where waiting for Zell to arrive. You was the first one to sit down and wait. But over time Timmy, Tommy and Beau has joined you. And slowly, the entire island was sitting there in anticipation. “It’s alright Y/N ...ʸ/ᴺ. We would have had to cancel it anyways, we wanna welcome our new resident after all ...ᵃˡˡ” You smiles at the two boys, always so selfless. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a plane flying close by. It was Wilbur! You stood up as the plane landed by the dock. You felt like you were about to explode out of both nervousness and excitement, if it hadn’t been for all the people here, you would have run into the airport. After a few minutes, you saw a figure come out of the airport. And just like you, he stood frozen there. It was him. It was Zell.

Without a word, you started sprinting towards him. And so did he. The two of you met in the middle and you crashed into a big hug. Tears started to pour out of your eyes. You were shaking out of pure joy. Zell embraced you so hard. Feeling like if he let you go, you would disappear once again. A lot of residents looked confused as they saw the scene before them. Even Beau could be seen with a slightly...irritation in his eyes. But after a while, you and Zell exited out of the hug. But you were still holding each other’s arms. You let out a shaky breath as you gave him a smile, only to be met with eyes filled with tears and despair. “Why did you leave me”

A single grade that made your heart split in two, he thought you had left him. “Zell, no I-I didn’t want to leave. It was purely against my will! Trust me! There wasn’t a day when I didn’t think about you, i searched everywhere but...” you couldn’t finish the sentence, voice cracking and even more tears poring out. Zell only responded by hugging you again. “Please don’t leave again...” “I won’t”

While the two of you were embracing each other. There was an antelope watching you, much to his dismay. How dare this deer come out of nowhere and just ruin his evening plans with y ou. You were gonna have a picnic with Timmy and Tommy, it would almost feel like you were a family, but no, this random deer just HAD to move in. It made him sick to his stomach. But he had to put on a fake persona, he didn’t want you to find out about his true emotions. Y/N walked up to the others, holding Zells hand, and started introducing him to everyone. So it seems you two had a background, way before Beau met you. That made him and but he knew you liked him more. But as Y/N was explaining the situation Zell came up and hugged her from behind very tenderly. This made Beaus blood boil to the point were he could barely keep it inside of him. He’d have to have a talk with this deer later.

It was nighttime now, you and Zell had been with each other the whole day, but now it was time to sleep. You said goodbye to each other and as Zell went into his home, he’d have a lot of things to unpack. But as he closed his door and turned on the lights he saw that Beau, the antelope from earlier were sitting by his boxes of furnitures. “Hello, Zell was it? I need to speak with you” Zell looked cautiously at the Antelope. Carefully planning his next move, like a feline ready to attack. “Who are you, how did you get in here?” Zell squinted slightly, still glaring at the person in front of him. “Beau, but that doesn’t matter. I wanted to tell you to stay away from Y/N. I don’t care if you used to be friends or something, but they’re mine now. So back off” Beau said, pressing the word friends as if the thought of that disgusted him. This made Zell chuckle, much to Beaus dismay. “Hey! Quit laughing! I’m serious!” He said getting more and more annoyed by the second. “Ahaha...listen pronk...you don’t know how long I’ve been without Y/N, how long I’ve yearned for them. And if you think I will EVER give them up just because of some empty threats from someone like you? Then you’ve got another thing coming. You don’t seem to understand how far I’m willing to go for Y/N. So unless you want to become a corpse, then I suggest getting the fuck out of my house”

This made Beau tense up a little bit. He hadn’t expected for Zell to bite back. He usually didn’t resort to threats when it came to keeping you for himself. But when he did, most people would stay away. He’d never actually had to hurt someone to keep you, but maybe this would be the first time. “Bad choice saltlick...” he got into a fighting stance, preparing to start butting his newfound rival. Zell also got down to prepare himself but then it struck him. “Are you close to Y/N?” He asked, slowly but carefully standing up straight. This caught Beau off guard, what? Why would he care? “Yes...we’re very close...how come?” And just like Zell, Beau rose up into his normal posture. “Hmm, then they would be very sad if you died...i have an idea” Zell said coming closer to Beau. ”Stay back!” Beau quickly felt like the tankes had turned. He came in with the confidence that he would convince Zell, but now he actually started to get scared. “Oh calm down you baby, I’m not gonna hurt you...as long as you comply, got that?” Zell demanded, Beau only only frantically in response. “Good...good. Now, let me ask you this Beau. When you see others talking to Y/N, don’t you feel a burning sensation in your chest? Don’t you feel like you want to get rid of them? Like you want to-“

“Lock Y/N up and keep them forever...yes...practically everyday...” Zell grinned at the Antelopes Quick response, he knew that hungry craving stare anywhere. Beau was lovesick, just like he was. But for the first time in Zells life, two lovesick people had fallen for the same person. And while sure, they could battle over who gets to keep you, Zell could use this- could use Beau, to his advantage. “Well, how about we help each other out. We both want the same thing don’t we? So instead of unnecessary violence, how about we put our brains and brawn together to get what we both want” Zell prompted, now walking around the room, looking at his boxesz. “Y/N?” “Bingo! That’s right, Y/N...”

Drip...drip...drip...

God...damn it...there was a persistent dripping noice coming from somewhere in your room. It had woken you up, much to your dismay. You tried to get up only to hear the sound of chains ring through the room. What? What was this. You starter to move more only to hear the chain noice even more vividly. Now you were starting to get scared. You were tied to a bed. Now you were full on thrashing and your heart was beating so fast. After a few moments the dark room filled with bright light, light that made you close your eyes before they got used to the light. Seeing who stood in the hallway made you oh so relieved. It was Zell and Beau, but the relive only lasted for a few seconds until you realized where you were. You were in Beaus basement. You had been there a few times, at least enough times to know that everything remained the same except for the bed you were chained to. It was a king sized bed, with you tied up in the middle. “Zell? Beau? What’s going on?” You asked, voice shaking slightly. Zell only responded to this by chuckling deeply, you could see Beau tense up behind him, ears going back out of...fear? “Why, my dear Y/N. You see last night our friend Beau snuck into my house in hopes of scaring me off of you. That of course didn’t happen” hearing this you let out a audible gasp, he did what. As you looked over at Beau he shrunk down onto his own skin, looking like a cat with its tail between its legs. “No, instead we were gonna fight to the death to see who would have you. But then, I got a better idea. Instead of this relentless fighting, why don’t we just share you!” As Zell said this, something crazy lit up in his eyes, you didn’t like it. “And that’s what we did! I’ve moved into Beaus place and now both me and Beau can keep you to ourselves! Isn’t it great Y/N?!” Zell was quickly approaching you, grabbing a hold of your face, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t you get it Y/N? This way I’ll never have to worry about you leaving me again! I’ve waited for so long to finally feel your touch again, and I’m not gonna let some other 8 residents take up all your attention!” As he said this he laid down on your right side, curling up around your body. Beau was still standing in the doorway, he looked very uncomfortable.

“...why...why me?” You asked, tears now pouring out. “Because we love you, dear Y/N” Zell answered giving you a light peck on the cheek. He looked over to Beau and smirked. “Beau? Are you coming?” Beau flinched a little when Zell said his name. But after a few seconds, he complied and laid down on your left side. You could see Zell move his hand to touch the arm that Beau had wrapped around you.

Zell wasn’t gonna lie, Beau was a cute antelope, very sweet and charming. But the cutest about him was how he thought he had any power in this situation. He found it adorable when he quivered in his presence, poor guy was probably terrified of him. But that’s good. After all, fear is the easiest way of controlling someone. He’d keep him around for a little while, for as long as he could. But make no mistake, if Beau did anything to step out of line, he wouldn’t hesitate to end his life. Meanwhile, you laid in between them, just the other day you were happier than ever to see Zell but now? Now you were terrified of this deer. What had happened to him? This wasn’t the deer you loved.

The deer you loved was dead.

This husk of him, laying next to you was the only thing that remained.

#yandere #yandere acnh #acnh #yandere animal crossing #animal crossing #yandere zell #yander beau #beau acnh #zell acnh #animal crossing x reader #tw manipulation #tw yandere #tw swearing #tw controling #tw kidnapping #tw obsessive behaviour #tom nook #isabelle #timmy and tommy

[thetravelerwrites]

Monster Match #22: Tikbalang

The Traveler's Masterlist

For @severedreamerbeard​: You’ve been matched with a tikbalang!

Tikbalangs, or Tigbolan, scare travelers by leading them astray and playing tricks on them, such as making them return to an arbitrary path, no matter how far they go or where they turn. A superstition popular with the Tagalogs of Rizal Province is that Tikbalangs are benevolent guardians of elemental kingdoms. They are usually found standing at the foot of large trees looking around for anyone who dares to bestow malignancy on their kingdom's territory.

It is a tall, bony humanoid creature with the head and hooves of a horse and disproportionately long limbs, to the point that its knees reach above its head when it squats down.

In some versions, the tikbalang can also transform itself into human form or turn invisible to humans and they like to lead travelers astray. Tikbalang is generally associated with dark, sparsely populated, foliage-overgrown areas, with legends variously identifying their abode as being beneath bridges, in bamboo clumps or banana groves, and atop Kalumpang (Sterculia foetida) or Balite (Ficus indica) trees.

You met Bayani in your art class on your very first day. He had immigrated from the Philippines to attend college a year before you started school, and due to his unusual appearance, had trouble making friends. You hadn’t seen anyone like him before, and where that made some people uncomfortable, it fascinated you. He was such a sweet person that you couldn’t help befriending him.

It took him some time to open up to you, but once he did, you realized how homesick he was. His kind typically lived in the same grove they were born in for their entire lives. Moving away was highly unlikely, but to actually integrate into society was practically unheard of. As far as you knew, he was the first of his kind to attend college. Anywhere. In history.

The only reason he wasn’t in the news was because he had specifically requested not to be. In fact, his advocates had filed injunctions to prevent the media from reporting on it. He didn’t want attention for doing what millions of people did all the time.

His sweetness made you friends, but it was the shy humility and talent that attracted you to him. He didn’t think much of himself, often having heard the awful things people said about him, and you wanted him to think of himself the way you did: unique and intelligent and kind. You were nervous about speaking your attraction to him. He was new to society and you weren’t sure of his preferences, or if he was even looking for any sort of romance.

“What is it like? Your home?” You asked him once during class. The two of you were sitting a little bit away from everyone else to give his long legs enough room without kicking someone else’s chair or easel.

“It is beautiful,” He told you, starting to sketch on a fresh page. “I lived deep in the jungle on the island of Luzon, near a steam that branched from the Magat River. It was lush and green. It never grew cold there, and there were many birds. My whole family had lived there for hundreds of years undetected before we learned of the Mass Integration. I miss it.”

“Why did you leave?”  

“We had only heard that non-human creatures had joined humanity a few years ago, but we were still nervous to reveal ourselves. I was the first to decide to leave and see what the world was like. When my time in college is over, I plan to travel for a few years, then return with what I’ve learned. The rest of my clan will then decide if they wish to leave or stay.”

“Will you stay home after that?” You asked him.

“I don’t know yet,” He admitted. Looking over, you saw him drawing the thick underbrush of a forest. “I suppose I will decide when the time comes.”

“What’s been the hardest thing? Was it difficult to get into college?” You asked him.

“No, actually, passing the test was relatively easy after I took that year of tutoring. And the scholarship I received has made it rather easy.” He stopped sketching and sighed, looking out of the window. “I… I suppose I… did not realize how… small… people can be. How petty. How… superficial? Is that the word?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking that’s right,” You replied.

He sighed. “I thought, because non-humans felt safe enough to reveal themselves, that it would be… less…” He sighed again sharply. “I can’t think of the words.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” You said. “Humans have a long history of not getting along with each other, so it’s unfortunately not surprising that they aren’t exactly nice to other species of people.”

“I can’t understand that,” He said with a grimace.

“Honestly, I can’t either,” You replied sadly. “Are you drawing home?”

“Yes,” He said, his mood brightening. “See? I can’t get the shape of the houses right, though.”

“Oh,” You said, scooting closer. “What kind of houses are they?”

“Small structures, usually one room, nothing grand. Most had open sides with only one or two complete walls, built up off the ground in case of flooding. Since it gets very hot, it was better to have open homes where the breezes could blow through, and we didn’t mind the rain.”

“Like this?” You asked as you sketched.

“Sloped roofs,” He said. “And they’re all pointed toward the river, so that the runoff drains that way. Yes, just like that.”

After sketching for a few more minutes, you took your paper and laid it over Bayani’s sketch, merging the two perfectly.

“Ha,” Bayani said softly. “There it is. Home.”

“I’d like to see it one day,” You said.

“Perhaps you will,” He replied.

“Isn’t it closed to outsiders?”

“Ordinarily,” He said. “But we make exceptions for friends.”

You smiled. “Are you going to enter the art competition they had on the notice board?” You asked him after a moment. “First prize is ten thousand dollars. You could go traveling on summer break, like you want to. Get a head start on seeing the world.”

“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t think I’m good enough yet to enter. What about you? You’re a wonderful artist.”

“Thanks,” You said. “But I’m not exactly amazing either.”

“You’re incredibly talented!” Bayani replied, earning a shushing from the professor. He ducked his head and spoke in a lower whisper. “You’ve got to win.”

“I’ll enter the contest if you will,” You told him.

“But I don’t even know what to do for the contest,” Bayani said, their face scrunched. “The theme is comfort. I’m not exactly comfortable right now.”

“I know,” You replied. “But there are things that comfort you. Your home does. Do that.”

“Meh, that’s predictable. I’d have to do something original to win.”

“Hmm, that’s true.”

“You enter and I’ll cheer you on,” Bayani said, smiling. “Competition isn’t natural to my people, so I’m still trying to understand it.”

“That’s why you should enter!” You insisted. “You have such a unique style, it’s sure to win.”

“Well, if you’re doing it, then I will, too. If only to challenge myself.”

“That’s the spirit,” You said as the professor called for the end of class. You began packing up your things and getting ready to leave. Bayani always let everyone leave first, and you always waited for him.

“I do find you a comfort,” Bayani said. “You remind me of a friend I had back home. We were always together. Until he found a mate, that is.”

“And you?” You asked, attempting to be nonchalant. “No interest in a mate?”

“Mm,” He replied noncommittally. “Not really. It’s hard to be interested in people I’ve known my whole life. There’s nothing new to learn about them. I feel like discovering new things about your partner is half the fun of loving them.”

“But what about when you’ve learned all there is to know about a person? Do you stop loving them?”

“Not necessarily,” He said, contemplative. “When you learn all there is to know about someone, then you change the situation and learn new things. I like to learn, and there’s no end to learning, now that the world is bigger than I first thought. And now that I can see the world and all the people in it, I can find someone who understands. Does that make sense?”

You laughed a little. “Honestly, that makes perfect sense.”

“What do you find comforting?” He asked. “In terms of the contest?”

“It differs on how I feel at the time,” You said. “If I’m scared, I like being hugged. If I’m sad, I like hugs. If I’m lonely… Oh. Well, I guess I’m not as complicated as I thought.”

He laughed. “How do you convey that through art?”

“I have no idea,” You said, laughing too. “I suppose I’ll figure it out.”

“What will you do with the money if you win?”

“Dunno,” You said. “Maybe start paying off my student loans.”

“Money is another thing that is odd to me,” He said, his face scrunching again like it did whenever he encountered a notion that was foreign to him. “At home, if you needed something, it was given to you. Debt is not a concept we believe in.”

“I wish it was like that everywhere.” You replied wistfully.

Outside of the Arts building, he bid you farewell. “I should hurry. The bus will be here soon and I don’t want to be late getting home. Today is my host sister’s birthday, and they’ve invited me to her birthday dinner.”

“Oh, have fun!” You said, waving. “Tell them I said hi!”

He waved back and began to jog toward the bus stop.

You walked back to your car, fumbling for your keys, lost in thought. Comfort was such an amorphous thing. Everyone had a different idea of what was comforting to them, but they often overlapped. Music, physical touch, objects, food. Different things, similar themes. How would you find a way to convey what comforted you the most?

You thought back on Bayani describing his home, the soft look of fondness he had when he was drawing it. His expression was familiar, if distant. Maybe it wasn’t your comfort you should focus on. Bayani was homesick, that much was obvious. What could you do to help?

At home in your apartment, trying to work with your roommate singing drunkenly along with the TV, you stared at an empty page. You’d been sitting there for an hour trying to draw something, but nothing was coming to you. Banging your head against the desk hadn’t helped, though it did cause your roommate to rush in with a half-empty vodka bottle, convinced someone was trying to break in. After taking the bottle awawy from him and putting him to bed, you sat back down at your desk and sighed, the blank paper mocking you with its… blankness. Fuck you, paper.

Start simple, you told yourself. A tree. Draw a tree.

You began to draw, and progress was stilted at first, but after a while, you tuned out sound and focused on your work. Time blurred and passed as if you were asleep, and before you knew it, the sun was rising.

Well, you were going to be useless today.

Looking back down, you were a little surprised to see Bayani on the page, sitting on the porch of one of those open-faced houses of his home. He was crouched over paper, drawing an undefined sketch. His face was relaxed, his posture at ease. His legs dangled over the side of the raised platform, and even as long as his legs were, they didn’t touch the ground. There were no stairs, but you imagined his people had no trouble getting up and down. Surrounding him was the forest of his home as he had described it to you, with the tall trees and flowers and birds nesting in the branches. There were younger Tikbalangs playing in the background, the younger siblings he spoke of so often.

“So this is what comfort looks like,” You said softly. “I think I get it now.”

It took a week before you were satisfied with the result, but you entered it without telling Bayani. You weren’t sure how he would feel about you using him as the subject of your submission, and it wasn’t likely that you’d win anyway, so he would probably never see it.

Two months later, you got a letter in the mail from the contest and put it away in your backpack, not thinking anything about it. When you got to school, however, it fell out of your pack and Bayani picked it up.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Oh, I think it’s something from the art competition.”

“You entered?” He said. “That’s great, you didn’t tell me!”

“I figured I wouldn’t win, so there was no point.”

“It’s unopened. Didn’t you even look?”

“Nah,” You said. “It’s probably just thanking me for my participation or something.”

“Can I open it?”

“Feel free.”

As you were getting your stuff set up to start class, you heard Bayani open the letter and a pause, then a gasp.

“You… won.”

“What?”

“You won!” He offered you the letter. “Look!”

“You’re shitting me,” You said, taking the letter and reading it. There, at the top in big bold letters, was Congratulations! “Well, fuck me.”

“What did you submit?”

“Oh…” You cleared your throat. “There’s a copy here.” You handed it to him.

He looked at it, and was silent for several minutes. You watched him apprehensively, the din of the class fading from your ears and it seemed as if you were the only two in the room.

“This is me,” He said quietly.

“I hope you don’t find this offensive,” You said anxiously. “I just remembered everything you told me about your home and it sounded amazing. I didn’t even realize what I was drawing until I was finished.”

“It’s beautiful,” He said.

“Oh…” You replied. “Thank you.”

He looked at you with a sweet smile. “It’s no wonder you won. I knew you could.”

You smiled back. “Thanks. I was thinking… maybe I could use the money and take us on a trip to your home. I know how homesick you are.”

He shook his head. “You should spend the money on what you want, not on what I want,” He replied.

“That is what I want,” You said. “Although… if I’m honest, there is one other thing I’d like to do.”

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Take you on a date?” You said hopefully.

The smile widened. “A new experience. Will I get to learn more about you?”

“I’m hoping you’ll learn everything about me, but I also hope you won’t get bored.”

He reached across and took your hand. “I don’t think that’s possible. In fact, I think we’ll be learning about each other for quite a long time. I look forward to all of it.”

You squeezed his hand in returned. “So do I.”

To get your own Monster Match, buy me a Kofi!

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Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Monster Match #Tikbalang #Phillippine Mythology

[rocketcowboyblu]

Hi! Hello it’s me again (PArdon me lmao)

Since I posted about the Lion king idea of presenting finn, Thought why not give an idea of the entire movie if yall wanna idk write it? Cause I cant write at all. Ignore the spelling and grammar errors Im trying my best. ANYWAY uh have fun reading this mess of an R.D? (Rough Draft)

Alright, its like 10 years or so after the prime invasion. The BFF Squad finished restoring magic to the universe and found out where Adora and Catra hail from, (Magicat hidden kingdom on ethiera, and adora on eternia etc.)   Catra finds out shes magically pregnant and tells adora, adora is like “Holy shit were gonna be moms” SO like the dummy she is goes to glimmer and asks her permission to present her when the kit’s born. (cause its presumably from magicat culture idk u decide) Glimmer agrees and puts it on her to do lists cause yknow queen shit. 

Months later, Finns Born. Swift wind like the annoying loyal steed he is, goes to inform the other princesses of the presentation. (Insert the Circle of life Music) 

The princesses show up along with a bunch of other people cause It’s She-ra’s Heir/Kid. Anyway magicat queen comes and takes Finn and goes to present them (the balcony idk what part of brightmoon looks safe!?) presume the thrusting of them over a balcony. 

Scorpia and Bow are holding each other crying over how cute finn is, Catra and adora are looking at finn feeling so proud and shit, Glimmer is just holding her head staring at these idiots wondering why she even let them live there.

ALRIGHT HERE COMES THE INSANITY.

Behind the scenes, Catra had been helping glimmer with advising and taking over the actual royal advisors job. The R.A aint happy that her job is being taken by a war criminal and fraternizing with Etheria’s Hero. SO With some rogue clones they build a plan to get rid of finn and catra.

FLASH FORWARD 7 TO 9 YEARS LATER. 

Finn’s growing up and needs to learn the difference between play and work, the advisor tells finn that and suggests  adora help them out. so Adora takes Finn out to the whispering woods to teach them about self defense and magic bonding with the planet. 

DT strolls up cause their now Brightmoons babysitter (Much to their Utter Delight) and tells adora that theres some trouble in the LightZone (Frightzone) about clones. Finn wants to come but adora says no cause its dangerous, So DT offers to take finn cause they were gonna round up the Runestone kiddos for a playdate. 

DT and Finn pick up the kids and they get into trouble. Finn has a whole inner monologue about cant wait to be a Hero or something to make adora let them come with em. Cue the Ditching of DT and the Runestone Kids find themselves lost in the whispering woods.

Rogue Clones find them and give chase with laser blasters. Catra finds DT tied up and explains the kids tricked DT and they hear laser fire. So they go and save the kids. 

NOW catra’s a lil pissed and impressed cause Finn manged to trick DT but also left their sights. Catra gives a speech about how much trouble finns in but also quite impressed with their work and tells them that, they’ll show them how to really trick somebody (aka pranks) 

Later that night the advisor and the rogue clones finally finish the plan to get rid of catra and finn. 

A WEEK LATER. Spoiler alert its finn Bday (Oh god here comes the angst)

The R.A suggests a Royal family picnic. Glimmer, Micah, Bow, Glimbow kid, catra, adora, and finn go to the whispering woods cause theres a nice clearing the advisor has “Suggested.”

a mile or so away rogue clones had been herding up the wild beasts of the woods. (Yknow those hog creatures) 

Catra and adora actually have a gift for finn but want it to be a suprise so they ask the advisor what to do, Advisor tells them that theyll take finn to a spot near the picnic and they can give them the gift there.

Advisor puts finn in a spot and then signals the clones.

The ground shakes, the trees start moving, BAM OUT comes running thousands of magic hogs. RUN

Finns on all fours running for their life, their panting and see a spot which they presume will keep them safe. It’s not safe at all. 

Finn bolts into a canyon, and sees a high top rock that SURE LOOKS STABLE. They climb up it.

Back at the picnic advisor runs back to the crew, and tells them what happened, Catra goes haywire and starts bolting towards the canyon, Adora tells bow and glimmer to get help and grab the advisor and head towards finn.

Catra reaches the canyon first, she spots finn on the rock, Jumping down she goes running along in the herd til grabbing finn, Adora and the advisor are watching from the top, Catra is carrying finn and puts them on a platform of the canyon. Catra gets impaled by a running hogs horn, She goes down into the herd.

“CATRAAA!” Adora cries and jumps down into the herd as She-ra to save catra. Finn looks on in horror trying to spot adora and catra. Boom out jumps adora  going up the slide, struggling to carry catras limp body.

Finn goes to climb their way out of the canyon.

Adora is holding catra tightly and is still climbing til she sees the Advisor looking down on them. “Here! Grab onto catra!” The advisor smiles sinisterly. “I’m Afraid I can’t do that adora..” Adora looks at them in confusion. “Goodbye my oldest enemy” The advisors eyes flash green. Adora’s eyes go wide. BAM a burst of magic hits adora causing her to fall with catra.

Finn screams in the distant.

The herd leaves. Its quiet. dust is still kicked up.

Finn looks at their parents bodies on the ground. Limp.

“M-mom’s?” They called out. Knees buckling they go to catra shaking her “Please you gotta get up...”

“What have you done...” The advisor voice tells them.

Finn looks them at in fear “I didn-” “Insolent child! Look at what have you done! You’ve robbed etheria of their greatest heros!” Finns ears fold back, tears flooding their face.

“Get out of here. If you ever show your face here again I’ll have the palace guards kill you” a bright ball of magic formed in the advisors hand.

Finn bolts. the advisor chuckles darkly, for it was only the beginning of a new era.  

Bow and glimmer teleport to area. they spot their friends.

Glimmer shakes catra “Horde scum DONT YOU DARE-” Catra bolts up gasping and then groans in pain “well.. there goes one of my 9 lives.”  catra looks around and sees adora. And now shes screaming at glimmer to heal her. 

The advisor looks ready to run. Glimmer heals adora and adora stirs going “W-what happened?” catra fills her in (catra doesnt know about the advisor she was unconsious.) And they cant find finn. so now its depresso expresso time cause adora cant remeber what happened and where finn is. 

LOL  IHATE WRITING THIS ALREADY. 

Alrighty alrighty. So finn gets lost in the crimson and find Lonnie and the horde kids. (they dont know its catra or adoras kid cause they burnt that bridge) they adopt em for protection and help with digging in the crimson waste mines for gems and whatever else. And finn dyes their hair blond and shaves it to hide their idenity in fear of the advisor.

8 or so years past. Finns like 17 and the horde kids r old LOL

Scorfumas kid stumbles upon finn and they go into conversation about what the hell happened. Finn tells em about how they killed their parents and how they werent allowed near brightmoon cause the advisor would kill them. Scorfumas kid then has to explain that the advisor was now running brightmoon into the ground using their grief to an advantage. Btw kyles singing can u feel the love cause he do be misintruptioning shit. fuckin kyle XD (Lonnie is gonna kill this fool)

LATER FINN LOOKS AT THE WOODS AND OUT COMES YA GURL RAZZLE DAZZLE! Madam razz goes into her time loops and yknow the deal, she goes “Catra is that you dearie?” Finns like “YOU KNOW MY MOM?!” anyway razz leads them to the abandoned fort of grayskull yack yack yeack. Razz tells them that evil comes from power, not from heart, remember who you are type of shit.

Finn finally decides to go home.

Back at brightmoon everythings horrible. its the works yknow? DT got stuck in the “Prison” cause of how they were sus of the advisor.

Just gonna shorten it cause this is so LONG. Finn shows up, catradora are in shock. advisor turns out is the leftover of PRIME so then finn and him fight. Finn wins and here comes one of the newest heros to etheria. GG end of AU LOL

Sorry I dont know what I just wrote. but yeah theres the gist of the idea if yall wanna steal and try to write this shitpost? idk lol thanks for coming to this ted talk

#shera #catra #adora #catradora #lion king au #finn #glimmer problems #bow is in the back crying about how cute it is #rough draft #idk i cant write #she ra fandom #she ra season five #she ra fanfic idea

[hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis]

Caught In Between 15. Flutters

Summary: Athena Dumont has finally found a place to call home after many years of foster homes and traveling. She had finally tamed her supernatural side and just wanted to live a normal teenage life. She quickly discovers that there is nothing normal about her hometown, Mystic Falls and gets sucked right back into the supernatural world.

Post Date: 08.25.20

Word count: 2.8k

Based off: 03x08 “Ordinary People” | 03x09 “Homecoming”

Masterlist

CIB Masterlist

After spending the day taking care of myself and doing errands around the town I make my way to the Salvatore house. I walk in to find Rebekah and Elena in a fight.

“Klaus killed your mother. He has a hold on you, on me, on everyone. He has for a thousand years. We have to make it stop,” Elena yells.

“Shut up! Just Shut up! Don’t talk anymore! Nothing!” Rebekah yells back pushing Elena against the wall.

“Rebekah!” I yell making my way to them but she holds me by my neck as well. After a few moments, she lets go of both of us and backs up, starting to cry and falling to the ground.

“Just go, Elena,” I say, wanting to keep her from harm. Elena quickly leaves the room as I try to go and comfort Rebekah and try to get her on my side.

“Are you okay?” I ask her as I kneel next to her.

“No, I’m not! Elena just told me my brother killed my mother,” she says sobbing.

“Hey, hey it’s ok. We’re gonna figure this out. We’ll get Mikael out of your life and then Klaus out of ours,” I tell her.

“What do you know about family? You’re the one to talk about taking Klaus out! You loved him and he made you a hybrid, I highly doubt you really want to take Klaus out!” Rebekah rants.

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about family. My parents were murdered when I was still a kid. I never had a place to call home, people to call a family. But I met a pack that helped me through my transitions and had people to call family. But Klaus, he broke any chance of reconnecting with me when he killed them on his hunt for hybrids. I can never forgive him for killing my family,” I tell her.

“So you really want to take Klaus out?” She asks calming down.

“Truly. I will help in any way to take him out. I will stick by your side and the others in your revenge,” I tell her.

“That means a lot,” She says as she seems to finally calm down completely.

After helping Rebekah get ahold of herself, I head upstairs and sleep for the night. The next morning I head downstairs and into the library where Stefan, Damon, and Elena are talking about a plan to lure Klaus back here.

“Ok. Fine. We vervained him. And in the process discovered that he had a dagger,” Stefan says as I make my way in.

“Which he planned to use on Rebekah. But instead--” Elena starts.

“We drove it through his heart,” I say making my presence known.

“And what happens when he asks to see Mikael’s body?” Elena asks.

“Good point. You, my brother, have been compelled to do what Klaus says. And you Athena, have been sired to Klaus. So the idea is to lure him back here and kill him, the last thing we need is you two getting tripped up and tongue-tied,” Damon states.

“For the last time. I’m with you guys. I want to take Klaus down,” I respond.

“Well, don’t look at me. I’m just in charge of getting him back here,” Stefan states.

“Klaus is smart. If we tell him that Mikael’s dead, he’ll want proof,” I say.

“Then I shall be dead,” Mikael says entering the room with a dagger and white oak ash in hand. Elena and Stefan make their way over to him as Damon and I stay behind the banister.

“What if he wants to see you in person?” Elena questions.

“Well, it means our plan is working. Klaus will absolutely want to see my body. You lure him here, and I will kill him,” Mikael responds back.

“With what? Those daggers won’t work on him,” Stefan questions clearly in doubt of Mikael’s plan.

“Well, I’m in possession of a stake fashioned from the wood of the ancient White Oak Tree. The one that left these ashes when it burned,” Mikael explains picking up the glass jar of the ashes.

“Where is it?” I question.

“Not here. Knowing its location is my insurance policy,” Mikael explains showing that he doesn’t fully trust us.

“Against what?” Stefan asks.

“You leaving this in my heart,” Mikeal responds, holding the dagger up. “You see, a vampire can’t dagger an original without dying. So...it falls to you,” Mikael explains holding the dagger out to Elena.

“You want me to actually dagger you?” Elena asks, taking it from Mikael’s hand.

“Klaus will leave nothing to chance. Especially when it comes to trust,” Mikael responds.

Elena then takes the dagger and plunges it through Mikael’s chest.  The next step was for Stefan to make the call. As we all waited around, Stefan was speaking to what sounded like a heated Klaus about Mikael being daggered. Klaus had tested Stefan since he was compelled by asking if Mikael being daggered was true. Luckily our plan of having Mikael actually daggered worked as we didn’t need for Stefan to expose our intentions. Stefan then hands the phone to Rebekah, so she could confirm that Mikael was really daggered. Thankfully she was on our side and confirmed it for us.

“Is Athena there. I’d love to speak to her,” I hear Klaus say over the phone. I shake my head not wanting to speak to him.

“She’s not here right now,” Rebekah responds knowing I was not up for speaking to him. “I miss you. I’m miserable here,” Rebekah says.

“I’ll be home soon,” Klaus says over the phone.

“Good. I’ll see you then, brother,” Rebekah says before hanging the phone up.

“He bought it. He’s coming home,” Rebekah says handing the phone back to Stefan and walking away. I follow her, noticing her slight upset.

“Hey, you ok?” I ask catching up to her.

“I’m fine. I just hate to backstab my brother. But if what Elena said is true then, he deserves it,” She responds as we continue to walk down the hallway.

“He does deserve it. He’s hurt so many people I love and lied to your face for 1,000 years. We need to take him down before he can hurt any more people we love,” I tell her.

“Yeah,” She says quietly before I let her walk off on her own. 

The next morning I wake up to hearing the Salvatore brothers and Elena in Damon’s room chatting it up. “Ugh, please tell me that you have a better plan than wolfsbane grenades,” I hear Stefan say as I walk near Damon’s bathroom.

“Never you mind, brother. The less you know, the better,” Damon responds.

“Are we pre-gaming in here? Because I am not pre-gaming with wolfsbane, I’d rather not die today,” I say, but no one seems to care about my comment.

“My freedom from Klaus rests entirely upon you two executing your plan perfectly. So, excuse me if I’m a bit cynical,” Stefan says before walking past me leaning on the wall. 

“What about me?” I ask.

“We have to be careful with you. You two are the ones that we should be worried about. Stefan, if Klaus asks you one wrong question, whole thing falls apart. And Athena, you’re sired and Klaus’ past lover. We can’t risk you giving us away,” Elena explains.

“Oh, I completely understand. But I’d love to help any way I can,” I tell her as she nods.

“You do have reason to worry. But if I look back at our history of epic plan failures, it's usually because one of us let our humanity get in the way. So if I’m taking odds on how this thing goes down, it’s certainly not gonna be me who screws it up. I’ll see you at homecoming. I can’t wait,” Stefan says before walking off.

“Ugh, if we didn’t care for Stefan. I would gladly kill him for being a monumental jackass,” I say a few minutes after he leaves the room.

“I’m with you on that one,” Damon agrees.

“Alright, while you perfect your plan. I need to go last minute dress shopping for the dance,” I say before leaving the room.

I head to the town and into a dress shop. After a few hours of looking, I found the perfect blue and white dress. I head to the Mystic Grill to grab a bite. 

“Hey, you ready for Homecoming tonight?” Matt asks as he comes up to serve me.

“Just went last-minute shopping. So I guess so,” I respond.

“Well, hopefully, nothing terrible goes down. Ready to order?” He asks.

“Hopefully. I’ll have the uh mystic burger,” I say and hand him the menu.

As I wait for my food, I get a call from Elena. “What’s up?” I ask answering the phone.

“So the gym flooded. Homecoming is moving to Tyler’s house,” She explains.

“Alright. Unusual but thanks for letting me know. I’m at the Grill. I’ll let Matt know,” I tell her.

“Cool. Caroline is still making me go,” She says.

“Typical,” I chuckle. “I’ll be home in an hour. See you then,” I say.

“See you in a bit,” Elena responds and I hang the phone up.

“Homecoming is moving to Tyler’s house. The gym flooded,” I explain to Matt as he brings me my burger.

“Sounds a bit suspicious but thanks for letting me know,” He says.

After I finish my burger I head back to the Salvatore house and get ready for the dance. I finish getting dressed I hear a knock on my door and head over to open it.

“Wow, you look great,” Damon said as I open the door.

“Uh, thanks. What’s up?” I ask.

“Oh uh. I thought I’d let you know that Elena daggered Rebekah. We don’t need her running around and switching sides,” Damon explained nonchalantly.

“You know she’s never gonna forgive you guys for that right?” I say.

“Well like I said we don’t need her running around. It was for good precaution,” Damon says back.

“Hey, you guys ready?” Stefan asks walking up to us before I could respond.

“Yeh,” I say walking out of my room. We head to Tyler’s house. As we arrive there are way more people than are at my school and a band. I question how Tyler set this up so quickly.

Damon and Elena wanted me to stay with Stefan, I guess they want me to keep an eye on him. We make our way into the back where there is a crowd watching the band. 

“Hey, Stefan. Athena. What’s up?” Tyler asks with a box of beer in hand.

“Hey, Tyler. Nice party you got going on here,” Stefan responds.

“Thanks, but I’m not the one throwing it. I’m just doing what Klaus wants,” Tyler explains as Stefan and I look at him confused.

“What do you mean?” I question.

“It’s not a party. It’s a wake,” Tyler explains.

“Good evening everyone!” We hear Klaus’ voice over the speakers. I look up to find him standing on the stage. “I want to thank you all for being here with me to celebrate. It’s been a long time coming,” Klaus says as he catches Stefan and me in the crowd.

After Klaus’ little speech he makes his way over to Stefan and me. “Athena, my love. You look amazing tonight,” Klaus says brushing my cheek. 

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” I say and walk off. As I head to grab a drink I bump into Caroline.

“Klaus is here,” She says with urgency.

“Yeah, I know,” I respond.

“We gotta go tell Elena,” She says rushing off to go find her. I follow her until we find Elena and Matt at the entrance.

“Hey, Klaus is here,” She whispers.

“What?” Matt questions.

“Yeah, apparently out sired hybrid friend Tyler thought it’d be ok to let his “master” throw a party. Unless you said anything to Klaus, Athena,” Caroline says.

“I haven’t talked to him since he snapped my neck and left me here. I don’t want anything to do with him,” I quickly respond.

“Well, I expected more surprise,” Caroline says concerned about Elena’s look on her face.

“I’ve learned not to be surprised by anything Klaus does. I’m going to find Bonnie,” Elena says not giving away the plan and walking away.

“I’ll help you,” I say walking off with her. We grab some drinks before we make our way into the back.

“So, you really haven’t felt any tendencies towards Klaus?” Elena asks me as she notices Stefan and Klaus talking. 

“I haven’t. Either my current feelings towards him are too strong for the sire bond or I wasn’t sired. But like I told Damon, I will tell you guys if I do,” I explain.

“I trust you. I just hope you understand that we need to be careful with what we say around you,” Elena says.

“I get it, my past feelings could make the sire bond stronger if I am sired. But I mean, it seems that we need to be more careful with Stefan and Tyler,” I say back.

“Yeah,” She sighs. We head back to another area to watch the band.

The next thing we know, Klaus is sauntering up to us. “Where’s your date?” He asks Elena.

“Getting me a drink,” Elena says not shifter her eyes from the band. Klaus tries to offer her his but she doesn’t move a muscle.

“Well...seems I have you to thank for Mikael’s demise,” Klaus says.

“He came at me. I didn’t have a choice,” Elena explains.

“Still I’m impressed. It’s not easy for a human to dagger an original,” Klaus says.

“It wasn’t the first time,” Elena responds.

“Right, Elijah,” Klaus says and then looks over the hill were on. “You seem nervous,” He says catching onto Elena’s cautiousness.

“I’m not nervous. I just don’t like you,” Elena explains.

“Right. Straight to the point then, shall I, love? People have been after me for 1,000 years and I am always one step ahead. So whatever it is you’re thinking of trying, go for it, give it your best shot. You won’t succeed,” Klaus says.

“I’d rather try, than give up,” I sneer.

“Elena, could you give me a moment with Athena?” Klaus asks. I notice Elena is hesitant to leave but I nod, telling her I’ll be ok.

“What do you want?” I ask after Elena is far enough away.

“I just want to know how you’re doing. How the hybrid life is treating you,” He says as he brushes a loose hair behind my ear.

“Drop the act, Klaus,” I shake my head and roll my eyes. “You killed my family and you’re hurting the people I care about. I can’t forgive you for that, you of all people should understand that. I feel nothing for you, but resentment,” I tell him.

“It’s not an act sweetheart. I still love you. And no matter how far you push it, I know deep down, you still love me,” Klaus says softly brushing his hand along my cheek. I shake my head and start to walk away but he catches me by the wrist, but I don’t turn around.

“You know you do, mon petit tournesol. You just have to open up and accept it. I know you’re strong, but the longer you try to fight it and the sire bond, the harder it is to resist,” He whispers in my ear. My stomach flutters as his nickname for me, but I quickly walk away and pull myself out of his grasp.

I head back into the party and find Damon walking around. “Hey, are you guys ready. We should get a move on with the plan,” I say to him.

“Yeh, Mikael is outside and we’ve got every problematic person out of the way. Well, with the exception of you,” Damon explains.

“Ok, I’m gonna stay head back to the house, just in case,” I say.

“Are you ok? You seem flustered,” Damon points out.

“I’m sired, Damon. I’m trying to fight it as hard as I can, but Klaus just told me the more I do, the harder it becomes. And he’s right Damon. You guys need to keep me out of your plans. I--I can’t risk it. You guys mean too much to me for me to betray you and become one of Klaus’ little slaves. I’d rather be out of the loop if this bond takes over,” I explain.

“I know you can fight this, ok? You’re one of the strongest people I’ve met. Just keep yourself away and we’ll figure this out later,” He says before rushing off.

I make my way back to the house and spend some time trying to gather my thoughts about what Klaus said. Klaus wasn’t wrong, the sire bond was becoming harder to fight and it was bringing up some very unwanted past feelings for him. 

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this part! BTW “mon petit tournesol” means my “my little sunflower” in French.  I’m skipping the next few episodes again because they’re just fillers.

🏷: @tristanacarry​ | @commentaryfanfic​ | @april-14-blog​ |  @simonsbluee​ | @awkwardspontaneity​ | @keiko0​

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries series #klaus x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson #elena gilbert #damon salvatore #Stefan Salvatore #tyler lockwood #rebekah mikaelson #caroline forbes #matt donovan #mikael mikaelson #TVDCIB