#Light had literal supernatural powers on his side and STILL ALMOST LOST!!

[permanentreverie]

Every 3 months I think about death note again and go slightly more delusional and deranged

[waithyuck]

PUPPY

pairing: werewolf!lee jeno x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: smut, supernatural au

word count: 4k

warnings: mature content, excessive explicit language, sexy times (meaning sexual content), I used the word ‘penis’ ONCE and only ONCE, mentions of a knot, knotting (I’m sorry), slight impreg kink, cumming inside, unprotected sex, blood, aggressive behavior, other stupid cliche werewolf things that are most definitely prob in hundreds of fics, jeno does NOT like being called a puppy even tho he’s called it oNCe

a/n: the first release of the dreamie halloweenie series! I hope this one sets the tone for what’s to come 👀 sorry to anyone who hates werewolf cliches and for the extreme lack of any substance or plot lmaoooo anyway I hope y’all enjoy reading

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~10/10/2020~

~~~~

“are you cool with jeno staying the night?” your brother shot out, startling you as he spoke, not even looking at you as he spread too much peanut butter on a slice of bread nestled in his hand.

you looked up from where you were sitting at the kitchen table to face your brother, not saying anything in reply as you got lost in your thoughts.

jeno was an oddball. he was nice and he wasn’t creepy or even that weird, he just had his moments that were just well, odd. he was your brother’s friend of about six years; they met in their second year of high school and have been inseparable ever since. because of that, you have also been surrounded by jeno in all that time as well.

in the first couple years, you didn’t notice anything strange about him. he seemed like a normal and healthy young teenage boy. he was incredibly handsome, so of course your poor soul developed a small crush on him that only grew as the years progressed.

since you paid such close attention to him, you could pick out the oddities in his behavior occasionally pretty well. just from that, you’ve deducted that his sense of smell was almost god-like, like he could smell things that a normal person couldn’t.

now, you supposed that it wasn’t that weird that he had a good sniffer; there were probably tons of other people in the world with the same ability...but it wasn't just his sense of smell that had you curious.

sometimes he would act strangely at night; not often, but enough to have you questioning it. he would either disappear completely without a word or come up with a half-assed excuse to leave and then run away like a frightened animal.

it was just plain odd...and you couldn't get over it, no matter how much you tried to will yourself not to think about it.

snapping out of your stupor, you felt your heart jump at the thought of jeno coming over, even though he’s been here countless times, but you didn’t let it show and you shrugged your shoulders.

“it’s not like I have a choice in the matter,” you stated truthfully, looking down to pick at your nails. “you would have just said he was coming over anyway if I said no.”

your brother smiled at you, beaming as he placed the bread down and patted your head.

“you know me so well, y/n.”

you rolled your eyes, shoving him away. “yeah,” you retorted, slightly annoyed. “It’s not like you’re my brother, or anything.”

he didn't say anything further and you left him alone with his sandwich, getting up and making your way to your room where you could successfully hide for the rest of the night. before your cold make it far, you heard your brother yell something about jeno coming around 8, but you didn't say anything back and just minded your own business all the way upstairs to your room.

you pathetically holed yourself up in your dark room for about four hours, only coming out to quietly sneak to the bathroom and then you would go back into hiding once again.

even when you got word that there was pizza downstairs, you ignored it and continued to watch horror story narrations on youtube.

you just couldn't deal with being in the presence of your long time crush today. it took everything in your power to stop yourself from going downstairs and being potentially spotted, but you managed to pull through successfully and be a pathetic hermit in your room.

it was around 3 a.m. when you were finally finished with watching youtube videos, and you felt gross. you supposed that the two boys would be sound asleep by now, considering your brother never ever sacrificed his beauty sleep for anyone. you grabbed some clean clothes and gathered them in your arms before trudging tiredly to the bathroom, swinging open the door without a second thought, not realizing that the light was already on when you got there.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest as your eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“holy fuck!” you screeched as you took in the sight of jeno, in the middle of the bathroom completely naked, stroking his painfully hard cock right before your eyes. you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the show and you accidentally discovered that there was something not right about the way it looked...

your mouth fell agape and you barely heard him gasp loudly before trying to cover himself with the closest towel.

“jesus christ, y/n!” he yelled back, both of you not even considering your sleeping brother that was just three rooms over.

your eyes stayed glued to where he was covering himself with the towel, still thinking about the oddity of his dick. it seemed to be swelling at the base, which was definitely not normal for a human penis to do.

“what the fuck is wrong with your dick?” you blurted out unapologetically, causing a blush to cover his entire face and neck. you tore your eyes from his covered crotch to look at his eyes, which were now a shocking shade of bright yellow. you jumped back, dropping your clothes on the floor as you watched him breath heavily, most likely trying to calm himself down the same as you.

“oh my god, what the actual fuck is happening?” you murmured out loud, your eyes wide and never leaving his own as he stood silently in front of you. “am i dreaming? am i fucking high?” you tried to reason out as to why you were seeing what you're seeing, but jeno didn't give you much time to think before he spoke.

“you’re not dreaming,” his voice came out low, almost like a growl, and you felt your heart freeze up. “I dunno if you’re high...but what you're seeing is as real as it gets.”

your mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping out of water, trying to formulate the words to say next. your brain literally couldn't think of anything except his abnormally large and weird dick.

“okay…” you trailed off, your hands coming up to rest over your racing heart. “so then I’ll ask again: what the fuck is up with your dick??” and then you quickly added, “and your eyes??? I'm so confused right now, jeno.”

he sighed heavily and turned around, giving you a full view of his ass before he gathered his clothes to get dressed and cover himself. you really should have looked away, but your eyes wouldn’t listen to your internal screaming no matter how hard you physically tried to stop staring.

when he pulled his shorts on he finally turned to face you once more, forgoing a shirt much to your dismay (but really, you were dying on the inside at the sight of his abs). he stared at you for a second, his eyes back to their natural deep brown color.

“...there's a lot we need to talk about.” was all he said before grabbing your wrist in his scorchingly warm hand and dragging you out of the bathroom and down to your room. you didn’t protest and you let him practically drag you all the way there, closing the door behind him and guiding you to plop down on your bed. jeno walked to the opposite side of the room, distancing himself from you as much as possible.

“um..so,” he started hesitantly, trying to form his words correctly. “I’m uh, I'm a werewolf.”

your eyes bulged out of your head in disbelief, but you didn't say anything in reply. you both stared at each other across the space of your bedroom, not uttering a single word.

at first you were ready to call him crazy; there was absolutely no way that it was true. but then you thought about his eyes, his sense of smell...and then thought about his cock...holy shit wait, was that a fucking knot??

“um, yeah, it was…” you heard him say suddenly. you jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, not expecting him to reply. did you say that out loud by accident?

“you did.”

okay fuck, you needed to stop thinking and pull yourself together. what were you supposed to say to that? ‘oh cool, your cock has a knot and you’re a fucking werewolf, that’s super, jeno!’

jeno went on to explain the ins and outs of being a werewolf to you over the next twenty minutes, the small pink blush on his cheeks never truly leaving as he went into detail about everything. he even corrected certain cliches that were not true, a scowl making its way to his features with each inaccuracy you brought up.

“so...my brother doesn’t know?” you questioned quietly, looking down at your lap.

“no one knows besides you and my family.” he confirmed, and you looked up again to see him lean against the wall behind his back, eyes gazing sharply at you.

you panicked slightly, thinking that holy crap, now that you know, he's gonna have to kill you so the secret doesn't get out.

“oh my god,” you whimpered out, “are you going to kill me now?”

you watched his eyes widen before he choked, coughing violently before composing himself. he straightened his posture, but still didn't make any move toward you, still keeping his distance.

“what?!” he practically shouted, startling you. “of course not! why would I do that??”

you felt your face grow hot and you looked away once again, wringing your hands together on your lap. you shrugged, murmuring quietly, “i dunno...I thought you'd kill me to keep the secret, well, you know, a secret…”

you heard him sigh exasperatedly before hearing his soft voice grace your ears from across the room.

“I don't kill people, y/n.” he sounded slightly sad, and you then felt bad about assuming something so terrible of him. “the only time I kill is when my instincts become too much to control, and I snap.” his head hung low, but he quickly added. “but I’ve never actually killed a person, even if my instincts were screaming at me to.”

you tried to wrap your mind around what his wolf instincts were like; he only briefly touched on that topic earlier, seeming like he didn't want to talk about it too much. you being yourself, of course you had to pry.

“so like, what you’re saying is,” you started, your hand cupping your chin in thought as you pondered over your thoughts. “that if you were to like, hypothetically, snap right now and go all feral, you would want to kill me?” the question came out inflected as a statement, but you nonetheless awaited his answer patiently as you took in the sight of his face going through about five different emotions in the short span of a couple seconds.

“I don’t think…” he trailed off, looking down at the floor while clenching his fists. “I don’t think killing you would be my first instinct,” he looked up at you, his eyes blazing a slight yellow again as he seemingly stared into your soul. “...if you catch my drift.”

at first you were completely confused, not sure what other instincts he could express while being feral, but then it all clicked and it had your body heating up at the thought.

“oh.” you simply retorted, your eyes glazing over at the implication of him pinning you down and taking you as he pleased. “oh, fuck. you’re fuckin’ serious?”

his eyes were dark as he drank you in, his nostrils flaring slightly as he subtly sniffed the air between the both of you. dear god, you hoped that he couldn’t smell the sudden arousal that consumed you. you watched his eyes glow into a bright yellow and you felt your instincts screaming at you to run, but you held his gaze as he let a low growl escape his mouth.

“y/n,” he said, low and strained as he tried to fight his animal instincts. “you need to leave if you don’t want this, right now.” his words were final, no room for questioning.

you briefly tried to think it over; what would actually happen if you stayed and let him have you? you could probably die, first and foremost, but you shook that thought away even though it was a very real and serious possibility. you couldn’t deny your arousal at the whole thing, being taken like a bitch in heat by a guy you’ve been thirsting over for a while now. you may not get the chance to fuck a werewolf again, so you quickly made your decision.

“I’m…” you trailed off, dragging your gaze down to his neck and collarbones where you could make out the sweat forming on his perfect skin. “I’m staying, jeno.” you spoke softly to him, watching his brow furrow in confusion before smoothing out again.

you made your way to him and he stiffened up, watching your every move like a predator as you tentatively stopped in front of his panting form. reaching a hand up, you caressed his face, your breathing shaky as you leaned in closer.

“you can have me, puppy.” you threw in the last little jab with that sudden nickname just for fun, your heart soaring at the sound of the deep growl he let out upon hearing it. you fought the smile off your face as he practically pounced on you, pushing you over to the bed and pinning your body underneath his in one swift movement.

“I’m a puppy, huh?” he questioned darkly, his glowing eyes roaming over your face before his head dipped down to nose at your throat. you whimpered softly as his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin, earning a satisfied growl from him.

you felt your shorts stick to your core from how insanely soaked you had become, and you grew hot at the idea of him pulling them down to find that you were, in fact, pantieless. he had your wrists pinned down against the mattress, not allowing you to touch him much to your annoyance. you tried to struggle against his supernaturally strong hold, but was met with a deep snarl in response. you immediately grew pliant underneath him out of pure instinct.

he pulled back, sharp canines prominent in his mouth as he fixed you with his glowing stare, red swirling with yellow in his bright irises.

“don’t fucking move,” he spat, his voice coming out low and gutteral, causing a flood of your own arousal to escape you down below. his nostrils flared for the second time that night, and he breathed in deeply at the scent of your wet and begging cunt. “be a good girl and take what I give you.”

the statement was final, and you barely had time to nod before he was tearing your t-shirt in two, biting the skin of your shoulder. his sharper teeth did not sink deep into your flesh, but when he drug the canines across your skin, you felt them rip you open. you let out what could be considered a poorly concealed scream, but it came forth as more of a moan as you felt hot blood trickle down your arm.

your shirt was in ribbons, and he looked extremely pleased as he took in the beautiful sight of your naked breasts, no bra in his way. he watched as your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, and he released your wrist to gently trail both of his hand over your body.

“your tits are so pretty,” he murmured, diving down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. he worked your other boob with one of his hands, kneading it and flicking your sensitive nipple.

your back arched into his touch, and you tried your best to stay as quiet as possible in fear of your brother hearing you.

he suckled hard; nibbling your nipple and dragging his teeth along it, causing shivers to run up your spine and your core to clench around nothing. your shorts were without a doubt ruined at this point.

your nails scratched down his back and he continued to ravage your chest, alternating between both of your breasts and teasing your sensitive buds with no remorse. it felt like hours of play, but eventually he pulled back to roughly grip the fabric of your shorts and tear them down your legs, exposing your dripping core to his hungry eyes.

you whined as he stared at you, reaching your arms out towards his own pants, wanting to see his cock again now that you were laying there, desperate and pouting for it.

his eyes shot to your face, smirking as he watched your brow furrow and your lips purse, your hands trying to grab at him from your place on the bed.

he didn’t allow you to pull his shorts down for him; instead he hooked his own thumbs in the waistband and pulled them down slowly, exposing his cock inch by inch before it finally sprung out, slapping against his stomach proudly.

your mouth watered at the sight of him once again and you moved to try to sit up, but didn’t get very far. he grasped your non-bleeding shoulder and roughly shoved you against the mattress once again, not saying anything. the stare he gave you oozed enough dominance for you to clearly get the message that he was trying to send.

jeno didn’t waste any time spreading your thighs open, two of his fingers immediately swiping through your embarrassingly wet slit before easing inside your tight hole. the stretch burned at first, considering he was starting you off with two fingers instead of one, but you welcomed the slight pain that mixed with the pleasure of him reaching up with his thumb to graze over your throbbing clit.

jeno thrusted his fingers into you gently at first, gradually picking up the pace as he went along. before you knew it he was adding a third finger, stretching your more than you’ve been stretched before.

you gasped at the feeling, your back arching off the bed as you cried out while he started finger fucking you with earnest.

“shhh, baby,” he said quietly, his movements never ceasing. “just gotta open you up for me, make sure you can take my knot.”

you held back another moan at that, thinking of how his cock would stretch you open, and how full you would feel with his knot nestled inside you.

he abruptly pulled his fingers from you, causing your back to arch again as you protested the loss of stimulation. his strength amazed you, and with one hand on your belly he pinned you down completely, sucking on the fingers of his other lewdly while stating you in the eyes.

after licking his fingers clean, (which caused heat to crawl it’s way down your belly), he kissed you sloppily on the mouth once again before gripping your waist and roughly flipping you over onto your knees.

your chest was flush against the mattress as well as your face, and your hips were lifted high in the air and you could feel the heat radiating off of him as he positioned himself behind you.

his nails drug down your sides and he gripped one of your hips with his hand, using his other to position himself at your leaking entrance. you wiggled your hips in anticipation, whining as he drug the head through your folds before slowly sinking inside you.

your fingers gripped the pillows as he bottomed out, his knot already slowly forming at the base of his shaft. it stretched you ever so slightly at the entrance of your core, and you whimpered out in pleasure as he started thrusting in and out.

the small form of his knot caught on your entrance with each precise thrust, and you were finding it very difficult to stay quiet. jeno’s breaths were heavy and every so often he would let out a soft growl as he felt his tip pound gently into your cervix.

your small whimpers were short and staggered, escaping your mouth with each thrust, which spurred him on to create a faster and harsher pace. he leaned over your back and didn’t relent as his cock punished you pussy, and when you let out a cry that was just a little bit too loud, he shoved your face right into your pillow to silence you.

“shut up,” he panted, a rumble low in his chest following his words. “just fucking take it.”

you nodded your head in response to the best of your ability, biting your lip to keep quiet as the presence of his hand left the back of your head.

he seemed to be getting close now, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge as well. it was uncommon for you to cum without any clitoral stimulation, and you were amazed at his ability to reach all of the most pleasurable spots inside you.

you felt your stomach tightening up and you gasped sharply when you felt his cock press right against your sweet spot, making you reach your high almost instantly.

you clamped around him, barely registering that he buried himself completely inside you and was now stretching you to the max with his fully developed knot. the pain of the stretch only intensified your orgasm, which had you screaming into your pillow to muffle your cries of ecstasy.

jeno growled loudly as he came shortly after, biting the back of your neck aggressively and painting your walls with his cum, emptying completely inside of you while his knot kept a single drop from escaping.

he withdrew his teeth from you, surprised that it didn’t break your skin, and gently moved the two of you to lay on your sides as you basked in the afterglow of what just occurred.

your chest heaved as you fought to catch you breath, you pussy still stretched to its limit as you laid with him. you reached an arm around to caress his face, a small show of affection as you smiled in bliss.

after catching your breath, you sat in silence for a bit, just bathing in each other’s warmth, before you had to go and open your big mouth again.

“so your knot is supposed to like, plug me up?” you questioned, your voice still sounding slightly out of breath as you panted. “to make sure I get like, hypothetically, pregnant or whatever?”

he groaned in response and gripped your hips tightly, his hips bucking and causing his still painfully hard cock to sharply jab against your sensitive insides, making you yelp.

“dear god, y/n,” he whined, his nails digging into your skin. “don’t say things like that, fuck.”

“oh, so you like that idea?” you teased, turning your head to try to look at him to the best of your ability considering your current position. “fucking me full of babies?”

his eyes stared down at you intensely, the color of his irises brightening up as he growled lowly at you. he suddenly gripped your hips and turned you both over, his body completely laying on your own as you were pressed against the mattress on your stomach.

“keep talking, y/n,” he growled out lowly, his hips pressing tightly against your ass, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. “I’ll fuck you again right now, and give you my fucking babies.”

he couldn’t see you, but you smiled contently, preparing yourself for another intense round with this beast of a man. there was a small chance that you would actually get pregnant, considering the IUD you had…but the thought of it had you ready to go at it again.

in some fucked up way, you were content with this, and you threw your hips up to grind back against him, grinning even wider as he pinned your body down even harder.

jeno fucked you like an animal until the sun came up, and your brother was none the wiser.

[flowerwrites06]

utopic desire I — jjk

Plot: Under an elist system of Vampires, Jungkook is torn between his old values and the lowest ranked Vampire he begins to fall for.

Pairing(s): Vampire!Jungkook x Vampire!OC

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Series

Genre: Supernatural/Vampires | Angst/Fluff/Smut

Tags & Warnings: discrimination, explicit smut, angst, coarse language.

Authors Note: this is a repost after my break since I’m not really going to convert this one to original fiction. So enjoy to those who missed it! I’m doing it in parts cause posting big posts on Tumblr sucks. 

“Glasses, five o’clock.” Yoongi muttered mostly under his breath but enough for the group to hear before taking a small sip of his reddened whiskey.

Belle felt a light rumble in her belly at his words, turning her head a little to see the male sitting quietly at the bar counter. Blue sweater with some light wash jeans, thin rimmed glasses and slightly long messy locks hovering over his temples. The tiny pout on his bottom lip only added to what an adorable specimen he was. “Jeon?” She smirked.

Yoongi shrugged mimicking the little curl on her lips as his eyes flickered to the side to get another look of him. “Hangs around with the pure bloods a lot. Must be a favourite source.”

Jungkook was the quietest whenever Belle noticed him in the pure blood crowds and with the way he held himself, it didn’t seem like he was much of a power in the group. One of the vampires who she knew was called Vira always clung to him which she could only assume meant he must have been her human.

“Could be fun annoying the shit out of Vira.” Belle mused.

“Or dangerous.” Jimin spoke up, finger tracing the brim of his glass with the drink barely sipped on. “Pure bloods don’t like us meddling.”

“They don’t like it when I meddle.” She corrected.

Pure bloods had no issue with other pure blood vampires. Even Taehyung, they tolerated despite their dated views on humans. With her though, a spawn of an original vampire and a human was downright blasphemy in their eyes. Belle still wondered to this day why Jimin, Yoongi or even Kiku thought about including her into their group, tainting their name in the academy.

Yoongi nudged Jimin’s arm harshly. “For a Park, you’re a real buzzkill, you know that?”

Jimin rolled his eyes in response, raking through his blue hair before murmuring a small apology towards Belle.

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“What’re you willing to give me when I get him?” Belle leaned in, elbows rested on the surface.

A smirk plastered across the man’s lips. “If you get him to sleep with you, I’ll give you my Lamborghini.”

Belle scoffed. “Which one?”

“The Centenario.”

“Nah—I want the Veneno.”

“If you were less hot maybe but everyone wants you so…the Centenario.”

“Oh come on—”

“If it helps I’m pretty sure Yoongi came on one of the Veneno seats one time.” Kiku spoke gesturing a toothpick towards Yoongi who stammered a little.

Belle grimaced lightly. “Fine, the Centenario.”

“That’s only cause someone decided for the first time they weren’t going to swallow.”

“You literally begged me to let you come all over my face.” Kiku parted her lips in slight offense while Yoongi shifted in his seat.

“Okay now I’m really going to go.” Belle chuckled climbing off the stool and fixing her deep red, ruche dress fitted to her curves before walking to the bar counter.

Jungkook still had his eyes fixated on his drink taking one sip almost every hour while he was somehow deep in thought. Though as he noticed a figure walking his way, his head shot meeting two beetle orbs with shining ruby flecks scattered across. It glimmered in the night light resembling a dark faery of some sort though he knew she was no faery.

“Do you always sit around alone in the college bars?” Belle asked sitting down on the stool next to him, ignoring how her dress rode up her thighs when she did.

Gaze flickered down to the heavily exposed skin, body exuding a thick, warm scent flooding his nostrils and filling his lungs. Jungkook felt his head spin from the sweetness but found himself taking more in anyway. “I don’t like a whole lot of company.” He mumbled.

“Do I count as a whole lot of company?”

“Not really.”

Belle smiled, that tiny spark of accomplishment lingering in the pit of her belly but she knew not to get too excited. “I don’t like much company either.”

“You seem to have a few friends.”

“And I love them.” She nodded. “But I also love...more intimate company.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched briefly as he gripped onto the glass a little tightly. He watched her move forward with her arms folded under her chest, making them pop beautifully in the dim lighting. “What kind of intimate company?”

“Just two people. Me and them. Taking a walk, going to eat, having sex…” Belle let a small moment of silence linger between the two people before shrugging. “Intimate moments where it’s only between the two of you.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel a little tingle. How it was easy to just fall into her careful words and drown in her whole aura. “Do you get to do it a lot?”

The corner of her lips curled up a little. “I haven’t for a while.”

“That’s not good.” The scent grew thicker around him again and Jungkook sought it as a good sign enough to shift closer. A layer of ice melting between them with a new brewing heat.

She hummed sadly.

“How much did he bet?”

Belle peered up at him curiously, tilting her head. It didn’t really matter whether Jungkook knew it was a bet or not at this point. She already had him close enough. “A Lamborghini Centenario.” She smiled.

Jungkook raised a brow tempted to glance over at her group but he stopped himself. Not that it was too difficult when he started unintentionally counting the little ruby flecks in her eyes. “High price for little old me.” His voice descended into a darker register as he leaned closer, feeling a strange heat radiate from her skin. “You sure you want to take it?”

“Depends…how little are you?” Belle’s eyes flickered down his body momentarily.

He chuckled, licking the inside of his cheek as he glanced down at his drink. Now more than ever in this entire night, Jungkook lost full interest of filling himself up with alcohol that won’t even intoxicate him. He needed something sweeter. “Well I can’t confirm anything to you here.”

-

Hunger never tugged any stronger than a bad cramp with Belle. She found decent satisfaction in food but it was almost like strong, uncontrollable cravings when her body wanted to feed properly. A type of craving that needed to be satisfied for her own health and wellbeing. While Belle could take it more than any other vampire, refusing to take blood could still kill her just as easily.

Jungkook’s hunger was a basic need. His hunger panged and pulled at his gut, spread exhaustion through his limbs, head spinning uncomfortably. The last time he fed was on one of the history students in his group project. It was consensual but he couldn’t take much before the boy fainted. There was something different pumping through Belle’s veins, radiating with so much warmth and smelling so sweet that he made him a little dizzy.

Public bathrooms were not an ideal place for a feed but the dark purple walls and black marble floors allowed for less traces and easy clean ups. Door clicked as it locked. All Belle did was turn around before her whole body was engulfed with another, lips locked with his as he pinned her against the door. It was icy at first until it started meshing in with her own warmth allowing her to melt into it.

Somewhere deep in the thick lake of his thirst, Jungkook knew he should stop and go back to the bar to prevent any issues. If anyone found out who he was with in the bathroom stalls, they would give him hell beyond belief. But the thought drowned as quickly as he grabbed onto her hips and moved them to the sink counter.

Jungkook whipped her around until she bent over the marble counter a little, a smile curling at her reddening smudged lips. Looking into the mirror Belle admired the way his forehead knitted when she felt her dress push up to her hips. He brushed away her long hair to expose her shoulder and the crook of her neck.

Leaning in, he pressed wet kisses along her shoulder while his hips harboring a mind of its own ground against her plump bottom. His gut gripped at whatever satisfaction he could get from her smell. That thickly sweet smell just calling out to him. How was it possible? She wasn’t supposed to smell this warm. He wasn’t supposed to feel this hungry tasting her skin.

Belle tilted her head to give him more room waiting for him to get as riled up as possible before she took her own feeding. His large palms exploring every inch of her body, reaching up to her breasts and kneading them to light squeeze before trailing down her hips again.

Tongue traced across one particular spot, soft and sensitive. Fingers gripped at the roots of her hair to expose more skin before his fangs bared, white shining in the light before it sunk in. His whole body trembled in glee. The burst of warmth trailing down his throat, tasting so fucking delicious on his tongue that he kept taking in more. Jungkook moaned against her skin, one palm moving between her legs as he rubbed himself on her curve.

Her first instinct was to protest when Belle felt an intrusion on her skin. She held onto the edge of the counter so tightly that one of her nails could have cracked off. Except the words died on her tongue and the only sounds forming out of her were whimpers…pleased whimpers. The warmth that exploded through her was so thrilling, so intoxicating that her knees began to wobble.

Jungkook could feel himself getting full right to the very limit but he still took more. A slight tinge of concern sparked inside him. He was taking too much. Forcefully he pulled away and pressed his tongue against the injury to heal it quickly before taking deep breaths like they had already done the deed. He usually was really good at holding back. What was wrong with him?

“You’re a fucking trickster.” Belle breathed out with a light giggle. She really should be mad but her body felt far too satisfied to be angry. Though she still felt something stiff rubbing against her. With a cheeky smile, she swayed her hips against his causing the vampire to hiss and grab onto her.

“You wanted to do the same to me.” Jungkook spoke in a low growl, his eyes flashing back to his original red except it darkened in seconds with his ever growing lust.

“Except I can’t, can I?” Belle mumbled a little lazily, allowing him to dig his nails as much as he wanted into her skin but she still wasn’t going to stay put.

Jungkook buried his fingers through her hair and gently pulled her back so he pressed right against his torso. “You can’t tell anyone about this…” He whispered in her ear, lips brushing against her soft earlobe. “And you’ll still get your Lamborghini.”

Belle had it coming. The secret promise. Every pure blood or turned vampire asked her the same thing right when their moment of clarity passed through them after a night of heated movements and sinful noises.

‘ Don’t tell anyone I touched you. ’

‘ No one can know we were together. ’

She was never allowed to speak a word but that didn’t mean she couldn’t hear them jabbering how the failed breedling begged for it with their other friends. “I promise.” She muttered like a familiar song.

Jungkook searched her eyes for a moment, the ruby flecks losing their usual twinkle when she spoke those two small words. His expression softened, grip on her hair loosening before moving his hand down to fix her dress gently as if it could somehow cushion on a blow he didn’t know he caused. But it was there. He could feel the way her skin chilled slightly disallowing him to melt into her again.

Before he could truly understand what that feeling was, Belle shifted away from his hold a little, setting up her hair again in the mirror. Not a single confused twitch on her features.

Then why was he confused?

He was the one who asked to keep it a secret so that was it. It would be selfish to expect some kind of argument when there was no way around the matter.

“I’ll have to go first.” Belle broke through the momentary silence. “Yoongi won’t believe something happened if you went out before me.”

“Why not?”

Another grin tugged at her lips even though the flecks were still dull and unexcited. “I usually tire out the ones I’m with. They have to take a break or at least look really out of it afterwards.” Belle walked over to him and patted his cheek.

Jungkook scoffed lightly though a little relieved he caught the tiniest cheeky glint before she walked out of the bathroom.

-

Two mornings passed and it left the pure blood emptier than he wanted to admit. Jungkook opted to take this particular dawn to cage himself in the gym for a few hours before classes started rolling. It was the best time when the whole building was empty save for the security guards. Eventually when he tired himself out enough not to think about those ruby flecks again and have the smell of sweat instead of that sweet, warm aroma, he started preparing for the library.

Apparently Vira and a couple of others wanted to get some readings done and it was getting too sunny outside for their liking.

The academy library was vast filled with books ancient to modern adorning shelves so much taller than him he could barely see the top. Jungkook had a simple black long sleeves draped on him as he walked over to the corner table and found Vira with an empty seat to her.

Deep red lips curled up into wide grin as she patted the seat and the male didn’t really respond much before doing as she silently asked.

Jungkook never found a whole lot of interest in the conversations his group mumbled towards each other and simply opened his books to skim through readings like he thought they were supposed to do. Though even with their words tuned out a little, his eyes still flickered up to scan the shelves, a few of the tables with quiet students curling on themselves. Except one figure glowed so bright near a few tables forward.

Her hair was not as black as he imagined it was in the bar lighting. It was almost a chocolate brown, a little messy and wavy with a small clip loosely placing back on side of it. Lips in a lighter pink tinge while wearing lilac thin sleeve dress with small peach flowers scattered across from what he could catch. Jungkooks’ lips twitched a little seeing her smile so easily with such a genuine aura when a blond haired girl next to her muttered something between them.

“Kook.”

He felt a harsh nudge on his arm causing him to shake back into reality and look over at Vira again. “What?”

“We saw you sneaking in with a certain someone back at the party.” One of the other pure blood vampires, Hoseok spoke with a wide smirk tugging at his lips. “The failed breedling.”

“I thought we called her a failed experiment.” Vira commented with a ghost of a smile over to Hoseok who chuckled in response. “Some kind of deformed rat in the lab.”

Jungkook curled his fingers against the table trying to kill the words that were desperately attempting to escape through him. “She’s definitely not deformed. I mean…we’ve seen Doyoung’s nose.”

A turned vampire, Doyoung shot a glare at the male while the rest of the group laughed in full agreement though quiet enough not to echo through the room.

Hoseok then turned back to Jungkook with his eyes flashing red. “How non-deformed is she exactly?”

Nails dug deep into his palm until the skin almost ripped. Jungkook was glad he had a good ability to hide his abilities otherwise his eyes would have been permanently red from anger. “She’s…kinda perfect physically. I fed from her.” You fucking dumbass.

“You did?” Vira didn’t care to hide her grimace, hand pressing to her chest. “God, aren’t you sick?”

“It tasted good.”

“Really?” Hoseok’s eyes faded into red for longer than Jungkook was comfortable with. That same faint smirk appearing back on his lips. “How good?”

Jungkook wanted to look back at Belle. As if there was this intense pull at his belly wanting to watch her smile so genuinely again and tune this conversation out again. “Better than a human.”

“Fuck, seriously?” Doyoung’s eyes widened so much his eyes could have popped out if he wasn’t careful.

“Maybe we should tell our original masters to take in more humans to breed.” Hoseok nodded down at his open and ignored book rested there for show.

Jungkook actively ignored the comment and gathered a bit more confidence to look over at Belle’s table again. His stomach jumped to his throat when he noticed those dark orbs meet his own. He held onto it, expression softening to admire how beautifully they sparkled, how her chest rose and fell. The way her lips curled up before she leaned into whisper something in her friend’s ear.

Vira scoffed without any care for volume. “They’d rather feed on animals than do that. One abomination is enough.” Every word was harsh and cut, not a single ounce of regret in what was spewing out of her mouth.

He heard the words but paid no mind to them when Belle stood up from the chair, giving him another smile before walking over to the other end of the library where the last, abandoned aisle was.

“If you ask me then they should’ve killed her along with her dirty parents.” Vira shrugged looking down at her long deep violet nails.

“I need to find a book.” Jungkook got up from his chair and walked through the library on the other side of the shelves away from the tables. He didn’t share a single glance to Vira when she called his name.

It was almost like a pull. Dragging him across the floor like a sorry but happy puppet, running to the one who controlled his strings. She shouldn’t be controlling his strings. But Jungkook still let her.

Finally he reached the last aisle, pausing in his tracks for a moment when he saw Belle leaning back against the wall shelf with her arms crossed over her chest.

“What happened to not telling anyone?” Belle asked with a faint smirk plastered on her lips.

Jungkook walked to stand right in front of the girl, the morning sun brightly shining through the window but thankfully high enough not to beam on the floor. “Who says anyone’s going to know?”

The cute smirk stretched into a mischievous smile. “You owe me a little.”

“How’s that?”

“You fed from me.” Granted, Belle strangely enjoyed the feeling far more than she would like to admit. “Yet I haven’t gotten anything from you.”

“You don’t think it’s a little selfish?”

Without a reply, she hooked her fingers on the frilly hem of her dress, pulling it up enough for him to see those thick thighs again. “Depends on how badly you don’t want to give me anything.” Belle couldn’t help but dive deep into her gaze when looking at the male. Thin black sweater with the sleeves rolled up to show off the veins popping from his arms after his morning workout, long tresses naturally curled and touching his brows. She could just imagine those fingers gripping at her skin.

Gaze darkened as he watched her plump, pink painted lips curl up into a smile while the rubies in her eyes disappeared almost completely turning into a blackened red. “Do you enjoy making a scene?” His voice grumbled, stepping closer until once again he was met with that beautiful heat radiating from her.

“It’s not a scene if no ones’ looking.” Belle murmured, breath hitting his lips almost magnetizing him to dip his head down further. “Besides—I already know your little quiet shy boy is just a façade now. Don’t expect me not to have a little fun with it.”

Hand grabbed onto her hips like his life depended on it, pads of his finger squeezing her until he heard a light gasp. “I’m not like your other sweet humans that you tire out, darling.”

“Well I wouldn’t know much from experience, would I?” Belle tilted her head, her nerves awakening with the way his fingers deliciously dug through her clothes into her skin almost forming permanent dimples.

Jungkook walked forward letting her stumble back so she rested further against the last shelf of books. Her scent filling her nostrils again and he sniffed in letting it flood his lungs and thicken right up to his throat. His hands latched off her hip and trailed down her short dress, rough fingers tracing her soft thigh. Sliding up thin clothing between her legs, his hands paused where he felt heat. Wet heat soaking through a thin soft fabric, almost soggy when he pressed his fingers against it.

Belle let out a shaky breath, gently caressing his rising chest. As the male pressed harder she could feel her erect nub throbbing out for him. The light spark of pleasure caused her to close her eyes. What a mistake that was. Almost instantly the pressure on her panties stopped and another hand grabbed onto her chin.

“Look at me.” Jungkook growled under his breath. Eyes flashed red when their gazes met again causing Belle to smile albeit a little shakily.

A soft hum emitting in her throat, Belle felt his rough fingers sneak into her panties. Rubbing straight against her nub jolting sparks of pleasure through her veins. It was too tempting to close her eyes and fully relish into the sensations but she kept her gaze on him. His eyes faded into an extremely deep crimson.

Fingers caressed circles on her delicate clit before sliding down her dripping slit. Spreading her nether lips, he slowly pushed in his middle digit, curling up deeper as he hungrily watched Belle part her mouth and throw her head back against the shelf. Jungkook dipped in latching his lips onto her jugular to get more of her taste. So warm. So fucking sweet. He tried to muffle out the groan against her skin. Jungkook pulled his finger out and slid back up to her clit, increasing his pace into a mild assault of pleasure.

Belle brushed through his slightly cold hair, giggling lightly as he gently grazed his teeth on the side of her neck before kissing her jawline. She tried soften her moans with her trembling breaths but tiny noises of desperation still escaped. The rush tightened in her lower belly. Warmer. Hotter. Her hips jerked against his movements, almost standing on her tiptoes.

Then her ears pricked for a moment. Footsteps echoing a little closer than normal.

“Someones’ coming.” Belle whispered in a shaky tone, trying to push Jungkooks’ hand out of her panties but he didn’t budge.

“I thought you liked making a scene, baby.” He swirled his finger around her clit in a tantalizing pace again forcing her orgasm to move to a distance again.

“Jungkook—”

As the footsteps grew closer, Jungkook whipped her around so she faced the shelf. The librarian appeared at the aisle giving them a quick glance as Belle pretended to pick up a book.

It only took a few minutes of her gazing around, looking for a book rather than watching them directly but it thickened the frustration between the couple. Belle cupped her core gently trying to gain more friction to keep her pleasure driving closer though it was hard not to move too fast.

Once the librarian disappeared, Jungkook dipped his hand back without a single moment of hesitation, rubbing up and down her slit to spread her arousal before torturing her clit again. Head buried in her shoulder he viciously rubbed her bundle of nerves as she held onto the shelves for dear life while the book she held dropped to the ground.

Belle leaned her forehead against the shelf feeling the tightness in her lower belly. Calling out to her and yearning for more of his touch. Fingers wrapped around his forearm as it moved at a lightning pace. “J-Ju—” Heat surged through her body spreading across her limbs, knees shaking causing to almost stumble onto the floor but Jungkook kept her steady. She let out a clearer whimper as he continued to drawl out her orgasm, rubbing at her sensitive nub at a tantalizing pace.

Jungkook pressed roughly against her clit causing Belle to whine and giggle breathlessly. He couldn’t help but grin at the sweet sound, relishing in the aroma of lust mixing in with her natural scent. He turned her around more gently, taking his fingers into his mouth and suckling off her delicious release. “Is that good enough?” He brushed and fixed the light tresses hovering over the girl’s face.

She grinned brushing down the creases in her dress. “Much better.” Belle reached out and absentmindedly caressed the neckline of his shirt with a softer expression across her features, padding closer until her forehead was almost touching his chin. She had a light hum under her breath as she nudged her nose against his jawline.

“What’re you doing?” Jungkook asked, immediately regretting his words when he felt her comforting touch leave him making him feel empty.

Belle stammered stepping back a little and avoiding his gaze. He won’t care for you. “Nothing.” She mumbled quickly picking up the book from the floor, placing it back on the shelf. This was all you were meant for. “Sorry.” Was the final word uttered before she rushed to disappear out of the aisle.

Jungkook took a deep breath to call her back but the words died on his tongue. He had a feeling why she did it. That needy feeling to just cuddle into a warm body after coming down from a high. The little want to be taken care of. The knowledge of it all only caused a squeeze in his chest. I’m sorry.

NEXT PART >>

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

➷Icarus

Pairings: Dabi/ Reader, Hawks/reader

Tags: pirate au, mermaid!reader, human!griffin!Hawks, pirate!dabi, angst, lots of it<3

Summary: set in an early 1700s au, during a time where Pirates have began taking over the seas and for runaway prince Touya, piracy is the only escape. But after the most unexpected event, his life takes a completely different turn.

Are y'all proud of me? Look at me! I made an edit, AN ACTUAL EDIT. okay quick thing to say before I hop into this is that I absolutely love this with all my heart. Writing it is my therapy, I hope anyone reading finds joy in this. Stay tuned for the next parts.

The first intake of air that enters your lungs feels like poison.

Sweet, mellow, nectar like poison is what you think of it nonetheless, especially if it's the only price you have to pay to bat your eyes to the aqua color of the sky. Today in particular the sun is too bright, too hot, to proud to shine over the little specs of clouds that dare litter that eternally beautiful azure canvas.

You can literally feel the river of tears that begs to stream down your eyes. Your hair is sticking to your skin annoyingly, but you don't dare brush it off, the little pools of seaweed that you've used to accessory yourself with are ghosting around you, spreading and straying away as you shift to your back.

As you lay on your back, letting the water push you to the surface, your ears are happily halfway submerged to the water, the tickling sensation soothing you just enough. Your (s/c) tail lays flat on the surface, halfway submerged much like the rest of your body. You bend it slightly to the side, flapping your tailfin onto the surface softly. Sprinkles of water splash over your torso, eager to finally find their way back into the water, like a fished out fish, racing in a match against time and the vaporising power of the burning sun.

Absurdly you float, feeling your body spinning and twirling as the tides swiped you from place to place. The dazzling sparkles of light that shine onto the water are magnetizing your gaze, pleading with you to fixated them with a look as the sun slowly travels its path to what seems as a few inches away from its previous spot, to you at least.

Your hand shoots up, right above your head, idling between you and your view of the enormous, bright star, as your long fingers spread you take a peak through the fishy fins that join them together. There's a deliberately feeling of malice and loath as you look at them -you've planted the seed of hatred towards the feature, not so long ago- and the slight undertones of your sheer and much illuminated skin looking fins stretch under your brain's command. You've never thought about it beforehand to this, but they hurt when you spread them, kind of like reminding you that there's a limit to what you're vulnerable or not.

At least the skin on his palm, the skin between his fingers isn't joined like yours.

Ironically, it gives you a sense of freedom.

You've only seen him on his ship. Once. But that doesn't stop you from having a painted image of him in the back of your head.

He's a timid buccaneer with a long ultramarine cloak, dreamy cerulean eyes, raven locks so unkept under the loops of his low ponytail and a barbaric lust to cause chaos. In other words, the Captain of a pirate ship.

That's all you need to know to be fascinated with him. You never heard his name, you never heard anyone speaking directly to him, all you had was a moment in which you exchanged looks, you with your pruned up fear of humans and him with big, bounty charged eagerness to spare you.

Maybe that was what had fascinated you about him in the first place. No other pirate had ever spared a mermaid with such light heartedness and a weird bubbly feeling in your chest had foamed its way into your heart ever since.

It's only when you feel you're disassociating out of this hybrid body that an all familiar trill filled your water muffled ears. That was your cue to swim to the shore.

With one deep breath of the surface air you submerged your form into the water, wobbling your tail around to cure any drizzling numbness that could occur were you to simply swim right on the spot. Your hands sway over your face and spread into half circular motions as you flap your fins and tail prominently, rising your body just under the surface.

You only open your eyes when you feel like your bird friend is close enough above the surface. And when you lock eyes with his golden orbs you notice the sly smirk that paints his whole face.

"Race you to the shore?"

Knowing full well that he can't hear your voice from the surface you nod sharply and only once, signaling your acceptance of his challenge. Ruby red wings flap hurriedly from his back, rustling the waters underneath him. You only grunt, because it's unacceptable that he believed he could throw you off track by doing the minimal damage to your surrounding environment.

Even for someone as fast as Keigo though, it's hard time mess up with the tides, even harder to compete with one if the most excellent swimmers, a merfolk.

Your tails flaps dangerously, torpeding your body forward and into a tube of salty bubbles as you swirl all around while swimming. Your eyes are fixated on Keigo, watching his every move as you shift through currents, the fins of your tail occasionally scraping over slack rocks ever so slightly. Your heart is pumping in your chest as you watch Keigo flap his wings again, you spare him a grin that mimicks his own and he raises an eye brow at you, extending an arm and taking his body just a foot more above the surface of the water.

His hand submerges into the water, startling you enough to make you widen your eyes at the sight of it. Little trails of his speed form in white foam behind his hand as he moves forward but you notice how the flat of his palm comes to scoop over the back of your head.

Like hell you're going to let him win this tim-

Your whole body is shaken suddenly as you are guided to the left, then to the right, your eyes squinting shut everytime your tail painfully bumps into the thin distances between the sharp, spike mounds of rocks you had failed to notice.

"Easy there, you don't have to rip your skull open to keep up with the fastest bird alive."

Keigo smiles at you and wiggles his eyebrow to your direction more than twice. It pokes your ego slightly. This playful comment nudges with your merfolk pride and the raptor seems to enjoy it, it seems like it's funny to him to mess with the way you swim when you can't exactly do the same for him up in the air.

And it's only when his hands wrap around you leisurely through the water, seemingly avoiding to actually touch you, but only interested in the intention to cage you that you pout and close your eyes, ready to flap your fins once more. That's the only advantage you need to outsmart him and out speed him.

Nevertheless, before you even manage to execute the first flap to your master plan, Keigo is quick to lock his hands around you, on you. He's even quicker to pull you over the surface.

"That's not fair!" You squeal.

"Isn't it?" The blond chuckles "I thought that you would like to come in tie with me for once"

"You're-"

"Insufferable?"

You laugh at him feverishly, as thin salty bubbles form in the pits of your chest. The soft exhale that travels out of your nostrils is a hot puff of air against Keigo's wet, naked chest, but instead of wincing to the tingling feeling, you feel the pleasant hum of a chuckle vibrate from his chest to yours.

"More or less"

It comes out as a soft coo, another huff of air against his chest though this time it's impossible not to feel how your skin feels against his. But that's just you, you remind yourself. From your point of view, you eye across his chest, careful not to let your face touch him, but your fins are beginning to betray you, perking up furiously.

Keigo seems to notice the way you shift against his grip, but he doesn't cease with his smile. It's only when he lowers you far away from his body though still keeping you in his grip that you see a fragment of his expression slip into what could be seen as sorrow.

"You merfolk could never convince me you're superior beings, you almost crushed against rocks" Keigo laughs.

Surprisingly, this time your chest doesn't feel heavy.

Instinctively you let your whole weight fall on his arms -what are you to a supernaturally strong griffin anyway. You hang your hands on both sides on your body, bobbing your fingertips right onto the surface, dipping them inches into the warm body of water.

"Sorry, your only obstacles seem to be puffy clouds huh?" Your sarcasm is lost in the grander scheme if the smoothness of your voice.

"You could never outrun me, let that sink in" He says, kidding with his head to the shore "where do I drop you?"

"Here's good, the sunset's nice from here" You reply "and yes, I can outrun you that's why I was so feverish about it."

The monotony in your statement is in contrast to its context and Keigo raises a brow at you, though it quickly drops as you manage to miss it. It's too eerie, too complex for his own good to pry into the feeling he's getting from your behavior, but if he were allowed to, he'd talk about how you don't seem to be your usual self.

With a swift flap of his wings he lowers himself into the water, his lungs filled with as oxygen as hes believed he needs from only a second ago. His hands come loose once the sheer liquid engulfs him; he feels how your fins tap against the feet, tickling him to the touch as the moisture softens them up again.

He wonders, if that's how soft his feathers feel to others.

His eyes don't open in the water, more likely because he's diving for the split of a second. It doesn't feel like a life time, just like any other time hes felt time pass by when diving, but he's putting that on you. He won't admit aloud, but his heartstrings pull slightly at the thought of you rooting yourself into him.

At least that's how he feels. And his smile widens when you pop your head out of the water you and shoot him a glare of your most glistening eyes with your lips pressed together in a thin line. He flies lower, with the intention of landing and flips his body so that his legs are facing the sand underneath him.

"Ah, today's nice." He sighs the moment he lies on his side, his elbow popping just in place for his hand to cup his face.

"It is, isn't it?"

Keigo smiles but a hollowing heat spreads to his chest, it's though as he can feel the bones underneath the layers of his own skin. It's his choice to ignore the feeling, rather, he coos a little over to your side, spreading a wing to your side. Red feathers splash happily into the water as they submerge, causing him to scrunch his nose pleasantly to the feeling.

"Keigo"

His feathers perk at the sound of his name, little, ruby feathers spike to his heart's commands. Tenderly your hand shoots to the sharp edge of his left wing, brushing down a few of the stray hawk downs.

He twitches to the touch; with legs that turn stiff as the slim looking black claws of his toes pop, his body shudders the peculiar affection. Keigo isn't used to being touched in the way merfolk get all tacky with each other. Griffin hybrids aren't as sleek and affectionate with their younglings, rather, being physical is discouraged.

"Mmhm?"

The way he coos against you like a little chick though, can't be discouraged by anyone other than you. As more feathers wrap around you, shielding your exposed scaly body from the scorching of the sun. The talons of his hands reach out to caress the hair above your ear, running some strands through his fingers.

You don't dare speak yet. There's a blasting of emotions that's happening inside your chest that your lungs can't respond to. It's only that, your face is so close to his, your nose almost in sync with his. But his eyes didn't look at you in a way that had once seeked.

Heavy chest and a quivering breath, even underwater. That's all the Keigo ever gave you. With his charms, and the perky feathers on his chest and hands that cooked everytime you were close. The pluming wings on his back that reaped the skies in a single flap; a creature worth of a mermaid's love was either worthy or atrociously mischievous, wasn't that the old saying?

And there was a time where you had been in love with him. A time where you had thought that mating for life with the griffin would be the right for you. Many merfolk had swam the path before, many had contributed to the birth of those atrocious, deadly sirens as a species, but at a time, the thought of your own little siren with Keigo sounded like a fairytail.

And that was all it was. Keigo had his eyes on a fairy, then on a raven griffin from his friend's flock.

If Keigo knew of all the hot tears you'd shed first him in the past, would he have sought to mate with you?

Well now you didn't care.

You didn't care about the world of creatures ever since that day.

"Keigo-"

"Y/n-"

You speak simultaneously, almost letting out the hazardous intentions of your statements overlap each other. It only makes you want to giggle though, as much as Keigo seems to want to sit back and wait for you to speak, the sheer profanity that lays beneath what you're planning to ask is coiling the blood in your heart in the most endearing way.

"Can I go first?" You ask and Keigo nods into your eyes.

His golden orbs dont leave yours, not even for a second.

"Is walking hard?"

Keigo's first response is to cock an eyebrow at you. It seems like such a silly, innocent question to which he can't give a definite answer, still the little smile that creeps to the corner of your lips is convincing enough for him to think of one

"Huh?" He laughs as well but this time, his hand comes to rest leisurely over your cheek.

You share a look in silence. The pointy tips of his talons are merely touching your skin in small places, while he scratches tenderly around your skin. Your faces are only inches apart and although it should hurt that he's only a ghostly breath away, your heart stutters at the thought of you learning more about walking.

"I'd like to walk"

In your excited state, you miss the way Keigo snuggles his nose right next to yours, unbeknownst to you, you deny the way his lips beg to clash with yours.

"Keigoo, tell me!"

Keigo seems to sigh a little over his own breath. The little nibble on his heart is quick and gone before he gets the chance to even feel it, so he doesn't blame it on the lack of the contact he had sought for.

"It's like," He pinches his nose "I guess it's like standing but with motion, like when you grab into a rock and pull your body around it?"

"Do I grab on rocks?"

"No, you just stand on your feet. And move them like so."

"Interesting"

Keigo scratches the coarse hair on his chin, puckering his lips to the side of his face as he's trying to think. As if he's trying to out the pieces together.

"And is it hard to learn how to walk?"

"Well I'll tell you if you tell me why you're so interested in learning all these stuff!" His claw soughs slightly onto the sight of your face, forcing you to face him once again.

He's never seen you express concern about this particular subject. But as he guesses, most mermaids do from time to time.

Nonetheless, now is his chance to spurt out what he wishes to say, now that his nose is on yours again. Now that your lips as ghosting over his again, now that your palm reaches slowly for the harsh flex of his bicep.

"I-"

But once again he's cut off.

"It's for a friend. She saw this pirate the other day."

The words that slip so reluctantly off your mouth finally manage to peak Keigo's interest in what you're trying to say. The mere hesitation in your struggling voice is accompanied by the twirling of your tail around his legs. It's a struggle to get as comfortable as before, but Keigo gladly ignores anything that doesn't involve staring in your eyes.

"Tell your friend" Keigo pauses. His wings push you onto him further, trying to coo you in his consultations "a pirate isn't worth her tail."

"But why" You mutter against him.

An atrocious feeling in his gut spurs the moment you let the palm of your hand slip down and splash onto the water. The silent act of giving u accompanied by you hanging your head an inch lower, just so that your lips miss contact by what can only seen like a huge gap. To him.

"They're sick, and they're thieves and they murder creatures for bounty"

"They do?" You ask, terrified

"They tie them to their ships, they shoot them, anything to carry them back to their orm and sell them for money. Tokoyami barely escaped them."

"How will they know I'm a creature if I have legs"

Keigo sighs. The memory is enough to send chills down his spine and cause the feathers on his hands and feet to spurt absurd and proudly. Whoever this friend of yours is, they're out of their mind.

There have been merfolk who have rejected their nature throughout their centuries to nest with humans, only to grow sorrowful in their regrets that they chose to live such mundane, mortal lives. To want to be with a pirate, the worst of the worst, someone who could only die in a few years of being on a ship, was like disgracing the creature world.

Wait- he heard right didn't he?

"You?"

[prose-for-hire]

Guardian of the lost soul

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: if what the reader dress as an angel (kinda like Supernatural angels) and she finds the scoobies gang  in the haunted house with the costumes magically change them. (you know the episode ^-^)  only this time , Spike sees her wings and in angel terms that's a soulmate.

Requested by: @everlastingartist​

A/N: Kind of a soulmate au I think? I am not familiar with the Supernatural angels (yet - I plan on actually watching it soon) I did google them and I’m still none the wiser lol. So this is my own interpretation of what was requested! I chose a guardian angel, and twisted it in my own way. It is very made up but that’s what I’m here to do!

Also I mashed up two Halloween episodes together for this one but Spike doesn’t have a chip. Not even a soul. But he finds his soulmate.🖤🦇

You loved Halloween in Sunnydale, it never disappointed. The pumpkins were freshly carved, there was candy everywhere you turned and kids really did love dressing up and making a nuisance of themselves. Even when you were running for your life the mood always picked up somewhere after midnight. And hey, being friends with a very protective Slayer had its benefits.

You were basically skipping around the streets, you were excited about going to the haunted house. You had tried to convince Willow, along with buffy to take the ghost costume off but she flat out refused. Even when you begged all the way to the party. You wanted to get to the end so you could join the party with your friends and you waited briefly for everyone to show up so you could enter together. While you and Willow waited outside, a figure in a dark cloak pushed past you. There was something about them that you recognised but they muttered some insult at you for being in their way so you decided to just ignore them. Eventually, everyone arrived and you were able 

You had chosen to dress as an angel. A guardian angel. Not the stereotypical kind, one you had read of in some of Giles’ thick mythology books. You had been bored and the passages had been surprisingly interesting in an I’m-so-bored-I’d-read-the-back-of-a-cereal-packet kind of way. It spoke of the kinds of angels, of the truth about how they operate rather than those spoken of in popular culture. Some of your costume was white however as you wanted people to at least recognise what you had come as (although nobody except Willow had got it). 

You went through the various rooms together and had a laugh at some of the more ridiculous spooks in the house. There had been a slight tension a few words exchanged but mostly you were having a nice time. Everyone was squabbling over which way to go next and you had lost interest, managing to break away from the others.

As you did this, you saw the hooded figure again. You were sure you recognised the flashes you had seen of the person’s face. You left your friends for a moment to tap them on the shoulder and who should turn to face you but the big bad of the moment. Spike. You hadn’t faced him alone yet but he had always singled you out when you were with the others. The conversation always turned suggestive, which annoyed Buffy to no end and made you try to hide yourself when you were with the others.

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t love the attention though. Hope that he would catch your eye. You longed for even a moment alone with him, although you were well aware of the danger. You couldn’t help like him but there was no way you would ever admit that to your friends. 

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, trying to suppress a smile.

“Thought I’d drop by… see what tasty… treats Halloween has to offer” He closed the space between you as his voice became a little huskier with every step. His hand was on the wall, palm flat against it. His arm blocking you in as he slowly scanned your body before returning to your face.

“What has the devil got in store for you this Halloween do you reckon pet?” He asked, the smirk audible in his voice, “Somethin’ naughty no doubt…” He added, biting his lip teasingly.

“I’m an angel. Always preferred them anyway” You shrugged. It had been a very low blow and when you saw his expression darkening into anger rather than lust, you backtracked – knowing better than to get him mad, “To the devil, I mean”

“Bollocks – where are the wings? The halo? And you’re not foolin’ anyone wearing that white-” he gestured wildly to the corresponding area where each item should have been with the hand that wasn’t leaning against the wall. You smiled, about to respond when someone interrupted.

“Spike!” Buffy shouted, having turned to find you in the haunted house. She was relieved to see you (as she had lost the others) but she was not pleased to see the vampire that still had you boxed in, pressed pretty close against you.

Buffy made light work of hauling him away and trying to throw him out of the house completely. She tried to find the front door but it had gone. You were now aware you were trapped inside this now truly haunted house. No, it was worse. It had turned into a murder house as half the student body upstairs had started to scare themselves to death almost before the real threat had.

Everyone was rushing past you and as Spike smelled fresh blood, he ran in the opposite direction to where the others were coming from, straight into the carnage. His stomach was rumbling and he was ready for a decent meal.

Everything was going on at once and you wanted it to slow down, or at least give you chance for a breather. There were too many threats at play tonight. As if the powers had requested it this way, a busy scene of threat and revelations for their own personal enjoyment. 

As you tried again and again to leave and to help find the others, things started to get worse. You had now lost Buffy and were trying to find her by (you guessed it) calling out her name which was the best way to attract anything other than good luck. You had to fight off some cobwebs and now, your own body it seemed. You were hurting, doubled over. Something was happening. You sunk to your knees, grimacing. Nothing was going your way. 

It was a strange night. The strangest Halloween you had experienced. The others were lost and at the same moment, Willow turned into a real ghost. Xander a real soldier and Buffy was now a genuine high society lady from the 1700s. It was spooky and not in a cute way.

You had managed to get to your feet, pulling on the cobwebs as they attacked your head again. As you looked down checking you had removed any stray webbing, you saw that you were glowing. Literally. You appeared human still - no wings or halos but there was a strange feeling that you had aged hundreds of years in just a few seconds. Not in appearance, that was still your skin and your face. But in knowledge. As if you had read every book known to man and then some. You felt powerful. Strange.

You walked around, able to know what was happening in every room. You managed to get places just by thinking about it. Able to protect people before they succumbed to the terrors the house had in store. You didn’t know how this was happening, but you knew better than to question it.

You had hope. You had a purpose and you were getting used to adapting to different people and their needs. That was until it came to something you needed. You turned and saw your friends through a two way mirror. They had all found each other but you couldn’t get to them. They were trying to remember who they were and come up with a plan. You started to panic, banging your fist on the mirror that you could see them through but they didn’t hear you. You hurriedly left through a side door to try and get to them seeing as your previous power wasn’t working. But you never made it to your friends. You had walked straight into someone. The one someone that you always managed to find, no matter what.

Spike had appeared. He seemed the same except... was that a heart beat? You frowned as he stepped towards you, the swagger still in tact.

 “You listened to me then, pet? About time” He muttered as you looked at him confused. You didn’t understand. You looked around for some kind of clue until he spoke again, “The wings. You put ‘em on. Knew it would complete the look… not that you need to be wearing any more clothin’ items” He added, the trademark smirk on his face as he almost prowled towards you further.

“I’m not wearing any wings…” You said slowly as he came to stand right in front of you, leaving not so much as room to breath between you. He frowned, and looked behind you before looking back into your eyes. He could see the wings as clear as anything. They had a large wingspan, it was kind of impossible to miss. He reached out the touch them and you felt his fingers. You frowned, checking behind you. There they were, bat-like rather than the feathered kind you had expected and almost translucent whilst appearing closer to your skin tone. He found them aesthetically very appealing. Almost as if it were a part of you. He just stared, almost in awe as he felt they were warm the texture as soft as your skin.

 It came to you suddenly. The folklore you had been researching. The mythology. The only one that may see the wings of the angel is their soulmate. Their one eternal love. It was said that every angel had a soulmate and that no matter how long they lived, they should find their soul no matter how seemingly impossible. No matter how many times they were lost, they would always be found. And you had found yours. Your love.

You and Spike had been less than useless during the fight to escape the haunted house and regain your own lives back. You were perfectly happy right here. Locked in each others gaze. A happiness neither of you had felt before until this moment. Until this revelation. You had been sharing. Talking so easily to one another. Him telling you stories of his past, and you surprising yourself with stories of your own. Ones that could match his. You felt an entrenched need to protect him. To hold you into him so that no harm could ever befall him. 

The chaos going on around you was now secondary to your story. You holed up in a room together, Spike never looking away from you. The guardian angel in you was screaming for you to help the others again, but your heart was set on him. On relearning of your love. You had faith in your friends abilities anyway.

He leaned in, his thumb trailing your face and lingering near your lips. He had thought about this for so long. His usual crude quips had been founded in truth. Forged to both show how he felt and camouflage them at the same time. He felt for you so deeply his soul had made an unwitting appearance back into his life. Whenever you were around his heart felt as if it may break free from his ribcage in the hopes of greeting yours.

You closed your eyes as he did, the build up to this kiss achingly slow. You could feel his breath on his face he was so close. His touch was warm and familiar, his lips made for yours. You could feel it. The anticipation almost became too much as he finally grazed your lips.

But, just as suddenly as it was cast, the spell broke. The feeling of danger returned to your gut as you were in Spike’s presence. Your kiss never deepening. Your stomach flipping as you snapped opened your eyes. Spike’s vampire instincts kicked back in and it was resoundingly telling him that he was hungry. Your scent was so enticing to him, his face changed of its own accord. His fangs so close to you but you knew he wouldn’t kill you. You knew it as if it were fact. As if it were gravity or the colour of the sky being blue. Spike loved you and wouldn’t harm you. They were each true sentences, you had never been so sure.

Buffy, however, now fresh from being bound in the sensibilities of a woman with no aspirations other than to be pretty was ready for a fight. She had fought to escape the haunted house and now she would fight the nearest big bad in sight. Spike. She wrenched him from your neck.

But when he drew back, he had the same look in his eye as he had only moments before. Your soulmate was still right here in front of you, there was nobody that could convince you otherwise. And believe me, Spike really tried since then.

Buffy and Spike traded blows. Neither became victorious, but you were able to leave the house and Giles had somehow managed to force Ethan Rayne into reversing the curse he had put on your costumes. 

After that long Halloween night, your mind barely stopped thinking about him. Sometimes you walked around after dark to see if he would come along and pretend to eat you as an excuse to just talk to you. He often wished to find an excuse to see you. Without knowing what it was, he felt it too. Deep within. Stronger since Halloween night. Sometimes he found himself standing around in places he knew you would frequent just so he could watch you. Catch a glimpse of you. Although, he had been doing this before Halloween as well.

You remembered so much more than that night, however. Memories that should have been long since buried of you and Spike finding each other over and over in other places and times still lingered as you wished his thumb still would along your jaw. You still remembered those memories and you wrote them all down before you could forget. They were like dreams, something you knew so well but struggled to recall in enough detail to satisfy.

You would forever carry a piece of his soul around with you now. That feeling just couldn’t go away, you wouldn’t let it. It was as if his soul were a locket hung around your neck. You would guard it with your life. Keep it close to your heart. 

He would come back to you, you were sure of it and you were happy to wait until that day came.

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (14) || atz

Sweat drips from your forehead as you swing the wooden practice cutlass on deck in the same repeated actions Jongho and Yunho have drilled into you.

Left parry, right jab. Overhead swing, side slash. Dodge. Repeat.

Practicing is numb, mindless work. Honestly, you really hate it sometimes, but right now you’re ever so grateful for it. You take the time to organise your mind, your thoughts.

What do you do now?

Jongho, Seonghwa and San now know of your identity as a woman, and what you have learnt ever since your awakening. San is going to tell Yeosang about what the fortune teller had told you yesterday, and you may finally get some answers.

But something lingers on the edges of your conscience.

The sea witch.

The one who Seonghwa warned bargains with the mythical, the bridge between the supernatural and the mortal. And from the looks on San and Seonghwa’s faces, she didn’t sound like a person you’d want to meet.

Underhand swipe, stab.

“I am unworthy of looking upon her face, the one who you have made a deal with, the sea witch!”

Sidestep, lunge.

A deal.

You hunch over on your knees, panting as you take a break for a moment. The sky is still a dark indigo, the stars splattered across the deep purple canvas fading ever so slowly in preparation for the sun to take over their role.

“-a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find-”

What had you been so desperate for as to turn to the supernatural? What could possibly be worth making a deal with the sea witch?

What had you gained?

You grip your sword tight once more, hate for all the hardships and agony your past self has put you through welling up inside of you.

You had woken up with absolutely nothing. You were completely alone.

Jab, slash.

What exactly had you given up?

Duck, stab.

Why did the fortune teller ask who had made you?

Wetness falls down your cheeks, but you don’t know whether it’s sweat or tears. Something about the word terrifies you. Why made? Why not ‘gave birth’? The way the fortune teller had spoken of you as if you are a piece of craft, not a human…

Why did she call the sea witch your mistress?

You toss the sword to the ground, panting from the exertion and the wild thoughts running through your head.

Did you sacrifice your memories?

“Hey, stowaway!”

You jump at the cheerful greeting, desperately wiping tears from your eyes that you hadn’t known were there.

“Yunho-hyung.” You internally curse the way your voice sounds like you’ve just swallowed a bucket of tar as the tall battlemaster makes his way across to you, his footsteps echoing abnormally loudly on the empty deck.

His hands are tucked into his pockets and his cheeks are apple red from the cold night air. Still, his grin is just as bright as it always is, and he stops next to you.

“Why are you up so early, stowaway?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumble back, shivering slightly. The sweat on your skin has started to evaporate, leaving a chill on your arms and neck. Yunho studies the cutlass on the ground, your puffy, bloodshot eyes and the downcast look on your face.

You open your mouth to explain, to come up with some stupid excuse, but Yunho merely smiles.

“Have you been in the crow’s nest before?”

“What?” You’re caught by surprise by this question, not something you’d have expected to leave his mouth. The lookout merely continues smiling at you, waiting for an answer patiently. “Well, no.”

“That’s good.” Yunho grins at you charmingly. When you frown at him, a little confused, he explains. “That means I’m gonna be the first one to bring you up there.”

Gesturing for you to leave your sword where it is, he takes you by the wrist, long fingers encircling yours completely, leading you to the foremast. Yunho then places your hands against the coarse, thick ropes of the rigging, gently closing your fingers around them.

“Are you scared of heights?”

“Not really.” You reply honestly, but you are a little worried that you might fall like the clumsy fool that you are. You crane your head back, looking upwards.

The crow’s nest is pretty high up.

“Are you afraid of heights, Yunho-hyung?” You ask. The lookout laughs, clearly amused at your silly question and motions for you to climb.

“I am a lookout, you know. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to catch you if you fall.”

You stare at him nervously, placing a foot on the rigging. “But I had three pastries yesterday. And another chicken drumlet. And some of that pie Seonghwa-hyung baked before I left. And-”

Yunho waves your protests off cheerfully. “No worries, just trust me!”

Just trust me.

Turning back to the rigging, you suck in a breath and begin to climb. You’ve never worked around the rigging and masts like you’ve seen Yunho and Wooyoung do so often, instead staying closer to the deck like San and Seonghwa. The two are in the rigging so often, spending more time among the ropes than on deck, laughing and chatting away.

For a moment, you feel like you’re intruding on their space.

The climb upwards is a little tricky as the rope twists and flexes beneath you, but you’re determined to make it all the way to the top by yourself. Straining with the effort, you finally drag yourself feebly over the lip of the crow’s nest and flop into it, sweat dripping from you every orifice.

“That was a good first try!” Yunho cheers as his mop of brown hair appears at the railing merely seconds after you’ve crawled in. You stare at him in disbelief from below.

“I thought you said you were going to catch me if I fell!”

Yunho cocks his head at you curiously as he perches on the railing precariously, an inch or so from a bad fall back to the main deck. “I was! I only started climbing after you reached the top.”

Your jaw smashes into the ground.

Yunho gives you an easy grin, patting your head in encouragement. Really, what is with all your crew members liking to pat you on the head? You’re about to ask him why when he looks away from you, admiring the horizon with a smile.

“So, why the long face?”

At his question, you jerk a little in shock. He seems to be a lot more observational than you have given him credit for.

“I am the lookout, after all.”

You gulp.

“And yes, you said that out loud.”

“Sorry!” You squeak, but Yunho doesn’t take any offence at your words. Instead, he merely grins at you with a cheeky, boyish smile.

“How about you tell me why you had such a long face as apology, then?”

You puff out your cheeks. You feel like Yunho has just tricked you into coming up here to make you spill the beans about all of your deepest, darkest secrets, but of course you can’t tell him that you’re worried about what the fortune teller has told you. As much as you trust the members of the ship, you don’t know how they’d react if you blurted to all of them that you could hear the sea monster’s voice and that you were starting to get afraid of what the fortune teller had woven as your future.

So you try to keep things as vague as possible.

“Nothing much.” You attempt to play it off light, fiddling with the crystal at the end of your necklace as you close your eyes and lean back against the mast, trying to appear as calm as possible. “I was just thinking about my memories, you know. If I had a mother.” A dry laugh leaves your mouth as you think about the possibility of the sea witch being your mother. “Maybe I could have had parents waiting for me wherever my home is. Siblings, even.”

Yunho is silent for a while. Then he suddenly speaks up.

“Do you know what these are?” He points to the two silver rings braided into his hair. They’ve always just been there, from the very first day you’d met him down at the harbor of Raguza, so you’ve simply assumed that it is some kind of habit of his. Honestly, you haven’t given it much thought, so you shake your head.

“These are rings of victory.” Yunho says, his voice suddenly soft as he fingers the silver bands. You stare at them a little more closely. “I got one for my first victory... And the second one for my hundredth.”

There’s something delicate in the air, invisible but completely tangible. You don’t dare to raise your voice over a whisper.

“What victories?”

“Victories in the arena.” Yunho says the word ‘arena’ with so much bitterness, sadness, anguish that for a moment, you can almost feel his raw emotions washing over you like a tidal wave. “Before I joined the crew of the Treasure… I was a gladiator.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment.

Yunho has always been so happy, so cheerful, so happy-go-lucky, a literal ray of sunshine. You can’t believe that he could have endured such torment and pain in the past.

“I see.” Is all that leaves your mouth, but there’s so much more you want to say.

“I had a brother. His name was Gunho.” Yunho looks lost in the past, fixated on a dream, far, far away. “He was nicer, kinder, gentler. Always the better one of the two of us.”

You want to argue with that, but he continues before you can say anything.

“We were both sold into slavery by our parents. All we had was each other. I remember the first time he stepped into the arena, he was so scared to the point he kept shaking in his boots. I volunteered to go in his place. That’s how I got this.”

You watch with bated breath as Yunho pulls the collar of his shirt down to reveal a long, ugly scar at his shoulder, dangerously close to where his jugular is, as San has taught you. If the blade had been a couple of inches to the left, Yunho wouldn’t be here with you right now.

And that scares you, for some reason you don’t want think about.

You don’t know what to say. Why is Yunho sharing with you all this, something so close to his heart?

“I did everything I could to keep him safe. It was silly, now that I think about it. He was always a better fighter than me.” Yunho muses to himself in silent mirth, shaking his head as he shrugs the shirt back over his shoulder. “But I was the older brother. I was supposed to take care of him.”

You don’t like where the sound of this is going.

“But he’s gone now.” Yunho’s smile is brittle, as if it might break if you so much as touch it. His voice is nothing above a wavering whisper. “Dead and gone. And I wasn’t even by his side when it happened.”

“Why?” You find yourself asking, even before you can run it by your mind. “What happened?”

Yunho closes his eyes for a moment, clearly fighting to keep his emotions at bay as they play out across his face. Then he speaks, his throat tight.

“A patron admired me for my skill and bought my freedom, but not my brother’s.” Yunho’s words are soft, but clear as water and you hang on to every word. “I joined the Treasure to earn enough to buy my brother’s freedom… but by the time I returned to my hometown, Gunho was dead.”

His voice cracks ever so slightly even though the smile never leaves his face.

“Did you know? My brother died from the same illness as Jongho’s mother did.” Yunho adds on quietly, lost in thought. A heavy, crushing feeling sinks like a stone in your chest and you feel something prick at the corner of your eyes. You blink the feeling away in surprise.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, and you feel Yunho’s pain as if it’s your own. If you ever had family, like he had, and you’d lost them… The feeling is familiar to you, as if you’ve felt it before.

But something is different.

No… you didn’t lose him…

You left him behind.

Something bubbles in the back of your mind and your eyes fly wide with horror, you jerk upright to stare at Yunho. You try desperately to chase the thought, but when you shut your eyes, all you see is the same thing you always do.

White beach, the waves washing over your legs as you sit in the sand. Rain touching your face, storms at your feet.

Then nothing.

“Anyway, what I intended for you to hear is that there’s always a dawn, even to the darkest nights.” Yunho says quietly, his words gentle. “Even though I thought I’d lost it all when I found out about my brother’s death, I realised I gained a new family. You might have lost your memories, but at least you have us with you. You’re our family. You are someone to us.”

You are someone to us.

His hand closes around yours. You turn to look at him, eyes wet with emotion. He doesn’t face you, instead pointing at the horizon.

“Look.”

The sun is beginning to rise.

The pair of you sit in comfortable silence as the sun slowly emerges from behind the sea. The darkness of the sky flees as the rosy light chases it away, streaks of pink and orange painting the sky.

You don’t know how long you sit there till someone calls for you from below.

“Yunho-ah! Stowaway!” To your surprise, it’s Yeosang, but there’s something off about him. From up on the crow’s nest, you can see him fidgeting nervously hopping from foot to foot as he looks up at the two of you. He looks like he’s literally brimming with happiness.

“What is it, Yeosang-ah?” Yunho shouts back, your hand falling from his.

There’s a massive grin on the navigator’s face, even as he tries to fight it back.

“Captain wants to see us!”

[mypoisonedvine]

Hunt (dark!Slayer!Bucky x vampire!Reader)

a.k.a. Bucky the Vampire Slayer

a.a.k.a. Bucky the Vampire Layer

full credit for this idea goes to @deceitfuldevout​ who shared her genius with us for the concept of witch/witch-hunter, which morphed over time into vampire/vampire-hunter, which I eventually adapted into a weird amalgam of a Buffy AU and a Supernatural AU

@giorno-plays-piano​ asked to be tagged if I ever did it!

Warnings: smut, blood play (just a lil tho, but lots of talking about blood bc she’s...literally a vampire), degradation kink, sex that turns dub con/non con, kidnapping

(we are sadly deprived of any gifs of Bucky in the new jacket but please know the pic below is the Bucky we’re working with here)

Bucky clenched his jaw in frustration as his head fell back against the headrest.  His grip on the steering wheel tightened with a squeaking noise as his skin skidded along the leather.

He was irritated because he knew what was waiting for him at the end of this road.  The headlights only illuminated a little of what was ahead, but the predictive power of past experience told him everything he needed to know.

You were going to be waiting for him, and he never looked forward to that.

Memories resurfaced of the last time he had seen you.  He’d found you in the forest and though he couldn’t prove it, he was pretty sure he’d interrupted you feeding on a deer.  It was disgusting.  Yet, you moved with this grace he couldn’t ignore and spoke with a smile that he couldn’t forget.  You greeted him with a familiarity that he wished wasn’t merited.  He was a Slayer, you were a vampire; there shouldn’t ever be a second meeting.  He should’ve killed you the first time, however many months ago it was.  He couldn’t even remember why he didn’t, but you slipped away that night and he swore to track you down.

He did, but he didn’t kill you that time either, because you’d proven useful.  You’d sold out a vampire who pissed you off and Bucky got to put another kill under his belt.  That was definitely the only reason he’d left you alive.  

Then the forest.  You were more feral that time, and he saw more of your monstrous side than he had before.  So why was that the time he thought about when he tossed and turned at night, when he was too pent up from years of solitude, when he forced his eyes shut and slipped his hand into his boxers under the sheets--

Destination is on the right, the GPS alerted with a robotic voice.  Thank god.

Bucky pulled the car into the driveway of the dilapidated mansion, shifting into park and turning off the engine; the metal blasting from the radio halted unceremoniously.  

He didn’t hear the commotion inside the house until he was quite a ways from the car and halfway to the door.  Of course he considered that it was a bad idea to just walk in the front door of a suspected vampire coven as a Slayer, but he wasn’t here on a hunt.  At least, not the normal kind.

Before he was even on the porch, the door opened with an outpouring of pink light.  He shielded his face with his arm as his eyes adjusted, but put it down when he saw it was your silhouette in the doorway.

“Slayer,” you hissed with a smile that blended pleasure and disgust.  He knew the feeling.

“You could call me Bucky,” he offered.

“It doesn’t suit you,” you explained, leaning against the splintered wood of the frame.  “I wasn’t sure you were going to come.”

“Neither was I,” he admitted with a shrug, “but how could I resist a chance to jump into the lion’s den?”

“You’re here to take on a coven?  By yourself?” you laughed.

“I’m not looking for a fight,” he denied.  “I’m looking for information.”

You raised a brow as if to say go ahead.

“A girl in the city,” he continued.  “Mysterious death.  Coroner is stumped, thinks it could be anything from an animal attack to a blood disorder to a ritualistic murder.  Has your name all over it.”

“‘Girl’?” you repeated, as if you’d never heard the word before.  “Girl, no, I don’t remember any girl.”

“White, blonde, 5’2”, 26 years old,” he listed.

“Oh!” you stopped him.  “26!  You mean a woman.  Yes, I remember feeding on a woman.”

“So you’re confessing?” 

“To what crime?  She was going to die in less than a year, easily,” you shrugged.  “She did have a blood disorder.  Leukemia.  She didn’t know it yet.”

“And do I want to know how you knew it?” he shuddered.

“It’s a unique taste,” you grinned.  He felt a little unwell hearing you say that.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with human law,” he frowned, “but it’s still murder even if they were going to die soon.  It’s murder if they were actively dying.”

“I was human once,” you deflected.

“In 1447,” he growled.  You would’ve blushed if you could; you were flattered that he remembered.

“Yeah, murder investigation at that time was… very surface-level,” you admitted.  “Is your plan to arrest me, then?”

“I’m a Slayer.  Not a cop.”

“What you are is a wet blanket,” you grimaced.  “We’re busy in here, you know.  Big party.”

“I was hoping so,” he smirked.  “That’s what you promised.”

“Then why don’t you come in?” you asked coyly.  You hadn’t really expected him to do it.

Everyone inside jumped and scurried away the second he set foot in the door.  “It’s cool,” you told them, “he’s with me.”

That didn’t seem to comfort them that much, because what business would you have with a Slayer?

They must have figured it out when you slipped away to a secluded room and dragged him along with you.  He didn’t seem to figure it out until you were pushing him back against the wall, running your hands over his body through his clothes. 

“What I would give to feed on you,” you whispered, running your lips over his neck.  You took in a deep breath and felt a little light-headed at the overwhelming smell of his blood.  He, unfortunately, reeked of Slayer, and you pushed back your instinct of fear to appreciate the man underneath.  AB positive-- your favorite.  “Wanted you ever since I first saw you,” you admitted.  “You looked so fucking delicious.”

You pulled back to look up at him and you didn’t need vampiric hearing to know that his heart was racing: just the way his eyes darted across your face and down to your lips was proof enough.

“Why did you come here today, Bucky?” you asked quietly. 

“I’m on a hunt,” he answered in a low growl.

“For me?”

“For you.”

“You have me alone,” you noticed.  “You could get out your wooden stake and end this for good.”

He nodded, but didn’t move.  Instead you felt his hands trail along your sides; he jumped when he brushed the skin of your arm.  “You’re so cold,” he realized.

Meanwhile you thought you could burn up from the heat of him, radiating out of his body and through the thick layers of clothing.  He was so alive, so awake, so present.  

You pushed off his leather jacket and he didn’t even think to stop you, letting it fall to the floor.  You never cared for it.  He looked as good as sin in it, yes, but it smelled of death and dead things, the skin of something you wouldn’t have eaten when it was alive 40 years ago, and you wanted only to experience the life of this particular being.

And what is life but wanting?  Fuck, you wanted him so goddamn bad.

He wrapped a hand around your neck and pulled you into him, kissing you with instant need and dizzying aggression.

Even now you weren’t sure if he would let you live to see the end of the night.  But you couldn’t see the sunrise anyway, so what difference would it make?

He made embarrassingly quick work of your dress, tearing it straight down the front.  Downside of wearing something you’d had for nearly 100 years is that it’s flimsy.

His hands were back on you the second your skin was exposed.  His touch was so hot that it almost hurt; his hands were so rough and strong that your heart almost clenched.

You clawed at his shirt and gasped with delight when you accidentally nicked him with a sharp fingernail and broke the skin.  The flavor hit the air hard and fast; you grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward so you could lean down and lick the thin red stripe you’d left on his chest.  Just a taste, but the best taste you’d had in… you couldn’t remember anything tasting this good.

“I won’t kill you if you don’t kill me,” he offered breathlessly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you agreed quickly as you began to work open his belt because the last thing on your mind right now was survival.

You groaned when you felt his cock in your hand.  There was a lot of blood in that thing and you could feel it pulsing in your palm.  You knew better than to put it in your mouth; you didn’t have the restraint for that.  

You were thankful you hadn’t drank any more of his blood because clearly he had a better use for it.  It was so big you wondered how he hadn’t passed out from it getting so hard because seriously, this man’s cock was a monster; takes one to know one, eh?

“Fuck me,” you demanded, “I want you to fuck me, oh my god.”

He nodded as a low groan echoed out of his chest.  His grip moved to your hips as he pulled you up and put you on the table, pushing you down and bending over you with another bruising kiss that trailed down your body.

“Don’t fucking tease me,” you whined, “I need your cock.”

“Wait,” he instructed, kneeling before you and licking through your exposed folds.  You gasped, unprepared for how strange it would feel; your hand grabbed his hair and pulled harder than you meant to, but thankfully, he didn’t slow down.

Little moans and grunts were lost against your skin as he tasted you eagerly.  You were so overwhelmed with the sensation that he had to hold your hips down to keep you from squirming away.  You’d been feasting on humans for 600 years, and now it seemed like he was attempting to even the score.  Even you never ate with this enthusiasm.  But you’d never thought about a meal so much before consuming it as he had thought about you before this moment.  

You were already embarrassingly close to orgasm, and it was apparent from the way you moaned and writhed and begged.

“I’m so fucking close, just like that, please don’t stop, yes, yes, oh fuck, yes,” you yelped.

It all came to a screeching halt as he stood up and grabbed your face with his hand.  You looked at him with wide eyes, confused but still appreciating how good he looked with wet lips and dark eyes and his hair all fucked up.

“You aren’t gonna come,” he explained between raspy breaths, “until I’m inside you.”

You nodded in agreement, again arching your back as if you could will him to fuck you.

He slid his cock through your folds, coating himself in your arousal which was embarrassingly plentiful.

Finally, he pressed his cock into you all at once and you gasped, head falling back against the wooden table.  He groaned as he gripped your hips, steadying you so he could piston into you with brutal force.  

And to think you thought he was going to stab you through the chest with a wooden stake.  To be fair, he still could.  

He scooped you into his arms, pulling you up until your face was right against his.  “You’re warm here,” he informed you with bared teeth, “did you know that?  So hot and tight around my fuckin’ cock.”

You could only moan, your eyes darting to his parted lips, and then his neck.  You were thoroughly tempted, but didn’t want to do anything that might stop him from fucking you so perfectly like this.  His hand came up to wrap around your throat-- the metal one, specifically.  You were pretty sure he’d lost the arm to a monster fight of some kind but that didn’t matter now.  All you knew was that this one was strong enough to crush you and it was making your head dizzy and your pussy wet.

Your moans were lost to his grip as he choked you, and you could hear the ragged sounds of his breathing as he fucked you deeper and harder.  “You like getting fucked by a Slayer, huh?  You’re such a whore.  My whore.”

You gasped when he released your throat and you could breathe again.  “Yes,” you agreed with a sob, “yours, baby.” 

He chuckled a little at that, slipping a hand between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb; you yelped and grabbed his shoulders tightly.

“You’re gonna come already aren’t you?” he mocked.  “Dumb fucking slut.”

You hissed at his harsh words but you were too lost in pleasure to complain.  Your eyes shot open when you felt two of his fingers slam into your open mouth and hit the back of your throat.  “Choke on my fingers while you come, bitch,” he growled.  “And I swear if you fucking bite me, you’ll regret it.”

It was like asking you to take a sip of sweet wine but not swallow it.  His skin tasted fucking delicious on your tongue, which you swirled around the digits eagerly.  He laughed: “such a fucking slut, sucking on my fingers like that.  You want it so bad.”

You nodded breathlessly, whimpering as you took his fingertips down your throat.  He groaned and slammed into you harder, which only served to bring you that much closer to the edge.  

“Come on my cock, right now,” he demanded, and you liked to believe it was just lucky timing and not his command that struck you at that moment.  Your nails dug into his shoulders as you felt yourself flexing and clenching around his length, another gush of arousal easing his way as he relentlessly pounded you.

“Good girl,” he praised, pulling his fingers from your throat to hear you pant with exhaustion.  He stopped to lift your legs onto his shoulders, pushing you back but leaning over you.  When he slammed into you again that time, you nearly screamed-- he was hitting something so deep in you that it was actually painful.

“Stop, it’s-- it’s too deep,” you moaned.

You tried to move back but he held you down firmly, a dark glimmer in his eye.  He thrust in again, even harder, and you cried out as you tried to grab onto the table for dear life.  He grabbed your wrists with each hand and pinned them beside you, laughing as you tried to fight him off.  

Any normal human you could overpower in an instant.  But you were no match for a Slayer.  Both of you knew that.  

“Let me go,” you begged, “you’re hurting me.”

“I could do a lot worse to you if I wanted.  You should be thankful I’ve let you live.”

“I could say the same,” you snarled.  He pulled back and rammed his cock into you so hard that you instantly screamed, tears sliding down your temple.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” he ordered.  “Just be a good little whore and take my cock.”

He started to move inside you, hard and fast, and you couldn’t help but struggle against him as he hovered above you.  

“Apologize,” he demanded, and just as he sensed you were about to tell him to fuck off, he accentuated it by holding his hips to yours a little longer than normal, reminding you that he could hurt you so easily if you didn’t obey.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m sorry, Bucky, please don’t… please don’t hurt me.”

He grinned as he watched you cry.  “This is what you fuckin’ get for teasing me.  You killed that girl to get my attention.  You wanted me to find you and fuck you the way you’ve been missin’ out on for the past few centuries.”

You shook your head to deny it but he suddenly let your arms go to slap you across the face.  You tried to use your free arm but in an instant he had your wrists pinned to your chest, putting all his weight on you until you could barely breathe.

“Just admit it, baby,” he said in an oddly sensitive way, like he was taking pity on you.  “Just admit you need me.”

“Please,” you sobbed, near-silent from the lack of air, “please…”

“Aw, look at you,” he cooed, “begging for more.”

He trapped your wrists under his left hand and used his right to roughly grab your jaw until your mouth was forced open.

“Show me your teeth, gorgeous,” he purred.  You hissed as your fangs glistened in the candlelight.  “Mmm, you wanna bite me, don’t you?”

You tried to nod but couldn’t move your face much.

“The feeling’s mutual,” he grinned.  “Fuck, I’m gonna come.  Gonna fill that tight little cunt.”

Your fight was renewed as you tried to kick and squirm away but it was useless.  You grunted as his thrusts became erratic but even more painful, somehow.

“Beg for it,” he growled through his teeth.  “Beg for my fuckin’ come.”

You tried to fight but only got another slap to the face, the sting making your eyes water instantly.  

“Beg, whore,” he repeated, yelling.  “I won’t come until I fucking hear it.”

“Please!” you yelped, and in a sense it was genuine, because once he came this would all be over, and maybe-- just maybe-- he would let his guard down long enough for you to feed on this evil son of a bitch.  “Please come, Bucky, come in me, I need it!” 

“Yeah, I know you do,” he laughed confidently, holding you down by your throat as he pumped into you one last time with a shattered moan.  “Fuck!” he sighed, savoring the feeling of your unwilling body forced to accept his seed.  The truth was, you were tighter when you struggled.

He only let you breathe once he was done, and you choked and spluttered for air as he pulled out.  The second you thought you had your bearings together, you were sitting up to lunge at him.  You felt something press against your chest and even before you looked down you knew it was over.

A wooden stake.  He’d had it the whole time.  You looked back at him and he was smiling, the bastard, even as he was still catching his breath from fucking you.  The sight made you shudder.

“I was gonna fuck you, and then kill you,” he admitted, “but now I think I’ll keep you.”

You hissed with a grimace, flashing your fangs, but knew you had no recourse, no options, no way out.

“You look so cute when you’re scared,” he smiled.  “Can’t wait to take you back to mine, trap you in a little salt pentagram, and fuck you senseless whenever I want.”

You whined, closing your eyes as you realized how well and truly fucked you were.  

“It won’t always hurt so bad.  You’ll get used to me.  And I’ll feed you enough to keep you alive.”

Sounded like a cruel existence, but you weren’t ready to get the business end of your stake, so you swallowed dryly and nodded in acceptance of your fate.  

He laughed and placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before guiding you to stand on weak knees.  “C’mon baby, let’s get you home.”

[timextoxhajima]

GEN Z SERIES, HYUNJAE: The Third Eye

"Will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

Member: Hyunjae

Genre: Fantasy / Slice of Life / Supernatural / Angst / TW

Trigger Warnings: Rape, Self-Harm

Word Count: 5.8k

Taglist: @yn-am-pm​ @fleurseoul​ @sunwoowuvbot​

The first time I knew I saw something that wasn't there, I was scared. How was an eight-year-old supposed to treat an elderly man who looked closer to a skeleton than a human being standing in the corner of the room... of an elderly's home?

I remember my mother combing my grandmother's hair while my father was helping me pick up my crayons off the floor when I saw him. Nurses were walking down the corridors in a hurry. I remember nobody noticed -- or at least, unlike the conventional way of death that has been portrayed in movies and books by the very cliché usage of the flatlining on the monitor. He had a good amount of hair for an old man in his nineties.

Then again, it might've been his deteriorating health that made him look older than he actually was when he died. Time seemed to pass a lot slower when they let me see them. Unlike the way his skin seemed to sink in between his ribs and wrap around the bones of his arms, his eyes were full of light. The kind that I recognised when I was at school. I didn't know then, because I was just a child he realised could see his soul. But I will never forget the blessing he placed on the top of my head. Every single word etched into my mind like carved into stone.

I told my grandmother about the man I saw earlier that day when my parents went to talk to the nurses of the elderly home. She was scared at first, when she realised her grandchild had abilities that not many had. Yet, she never told my parents, because she knew they would convince themselves that they could do something about it -- as if one could really remove the powers of a third eye all so easily.

Angels are not beings with wings or halos but instead, a bright orb of gold and white. The old man waved so dearly to me, after giving his children and grandchildren a kiss atop their heads though they couldn't feel it. He was 88, auspicious numbers in many cultures. Then when the orb of light drifted in through the window, I remember I could almost hear the sounds of kittens and puppies. But just as it neared him, I heard the familiar sounds of laughter from his children and grandchildren, then static sounds of radio and music I didn't recognise. I will later find out that the music belonged in the 40s.

The orb presents you with everything you've loved and enjoyed and held close to your heart in your life, and should you be content with what the orb has to offer you, then it must be time for you to go.

But where there is light, there is darkness. Where there are orbs of smiles and flowers, there are daggers of blood and evil lurking in the shadows. I was 13 when I saw evil in one of its many forms. I had a headache the entire day, a sign to tell me that my third eye is in close proximity with something that did not align with my believes and morals.

I had expected something to jump out at me through the reflection off the mirror, or a hand to burst through the ground and grab me by the ankle. But no, evil in one of its many forms does not need it to be horrifying and scary.

Her hair was long, and her face was covered in what looked like burn marks. 

Does Hell burn through you so quickly? 

She looks human, but her fingers were split down the middle, thorns sticking out every finger, in which on each hand she has ten.

As she graced the corridors of school, she sheds these thorns that drop like nails to the floor, waiting for someone to step on those facing upwards. Have you ever gotten a sharp ache or pinch in the soles of your feet when you're walking sometimes?

If you have, then you would've probably stepped on a Hell's Thorn, or at least, that's what I called it. I never found out if she could see me, but when I realised I could touch the thorns and kick them out of sight, they'd roll off into some corner before dissolving into red ash.

Over a decade of being stuck between two worlds. I've done enough reading to understand the dangers of prancing along this line, not being able to shut one side off completely. So, when the ghosts, demons and spirits hide in the shadows of my room, or stare at me point-blank in the middle of the day like a normal human being would, it becomes normal.

They are everywhere, even when you cannot feel them. It gets confusing, when they look more human than some human beings. 

Just how much longer... or how much more can I stay like this?

"I don't know where your diary is. If you're telling me it's here, then I'm telling you it's gone."

You are standing right smack in the middle of the school field, afternoon sun beaming down onto your hair. Squinting your eyes, you look around the large space of artificial grass and beyond that, the tracks, where students were finding some fun in running laps in the summer heat.

"But..."

"Lee Eun," Your heart breaks, more than necessary, because this is not the first time you've done it. "What you're looking for isn't here. The building your locker was in was torn down 20 years ago and if it was there, it's gone now. Or at least..." She watches you turn around and stare at the ground beneath your feet. "It's not here anymore."

Lee Eun was a student from your school that graduated in 2000. But she lost her life the day she graduated, only because she hadn't seen the brick falling from the nearby construction site where the school building you attended now was being built.

The silence becomes unbearable so you look up, but you only see the two male students jogging along the track and nobody else in sight. The orb did not come to collect Lee Eun's soul; this is not over.

The sweat has stuck your uniform to your back when you return to class, and it becomes apparent to you that a particular shadow has not shifted an inch since you've stepped into the classroom. You weren't in pain, so this entity is not a demon. Yet, you cannot identify its gender. It had no face, no hair, just... a volume of shadow and darkness and if the girls sitting before it knew it was there, they'd probably scream their head off. 

You know its staring at you with every intention in its spirit, though you cannot see its eyes. And it stays when the teacher enters the classroom with a new student trailing behind him. For a moment, your attention is diverted to Jang Jun Hyuk, hair brown and skin fair. The girls in the class were already ogling over him, it's not a surprise anymore. But the shadow turns to look at him, then at you, and the darkness dissolves into the beige wall behind it, vanishing as Jang Jun Hyuk bows and introduces himself.

Then the king of the class speaks at a volume you know you weren't supposed to hear, but consider it a special talent now that you've honed the skills of your third eye.

"Strange vibes," Lee Hyunjae was probably talking to Younghoon. "Don't you think there's something off about him?"

"Are you sure you're not just threatened that there's someone who rivals our popularity?"

Jang Jun Hyuk bows to the class, then is instructed by the teacher to take a seat diagonally behind you, right in front of Lee Hyunjae.

"Hey, new kid."

A frown gently presses itself into your forehead when you can hear Younghoon give Hyunjae a gentle whack on his shoulder.

"Where did you move from?"

"Ah, I moved from another city. My father was transferred."

The shadow was now standing by the door of the classroom, watching the teacher scribble on the whiteboard.

"Cool," Hyunjae offers a friendly laugh. That's more like him. "Join us at lunch, provided you don't have a crowd to hang out with yet."

“Uh, sure.”

The shadow turns to look at you -- even without eyes, you know it’s watching you. 

By the time you have been dragged to the cafeteria by your friends (though most people tend to think you’re weird for talking to yourself sometimes), Hyunjae has doubled over on some bench cracking up at a joke Jun Hyuk made. 

Your friends can’t help but to draw your attention to the new addition to the group of popular males. 

“Man fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

“At least he looks like one of them.”

“y/n,” One of the two call out to you. “What happened to... what was her name?”

“Lee Eun.”

“Right, the ghost from twenty years ago. How is she?” 

The two look at you with wide, glistening eyes. Most people aren’t as accommodating to your abilities, so it’s a blessing to have them by your side. 

“I haven’t seen her since earlier today. She said she had a diary in school but she never found it.”

“Well, maybe it is still in school somewhere, locked up in some lost and found box or lost in some locker. Why else would she still be here and can’t... you know, move on?”

You shrug. I wish I knew.

The library was always comforting. The silence, the sound of pages being flipped and the occasional clicking of someone’s keyboard. And strangely enough, the library’s never really a hotspot for other beings except humans.

The peace was, unfortunately, disrupted though, when Jun Hyuk shows up with his backpack and tie neat around his collar. You greet him subtly before returning to your notes, but he sits down opposite you and renders your desire to be alone useless.

“Hyunjae and Younghoon told me you would be here.”

The pen in your grip gets lowered into the ivory sheets, gaze travelling up to look at him through your lashes. “Lee Hyunjae and Kim Younghoon? Why would they tell you where I am?”

Jun Hyuk offers a shy smile, diverting his brown irises away from you for a second. “Because I asked.”

The cold air stings your nose when you suck in a deep breath. “Why, do you need help with work? Because I’m literally the worst person to ask--”

“No, I just needed to know where I could find you so I could spend time with you.”

Your heart begins to thump madly, because it’s not everyday that a guy is so straightforward with his intentions to someone he just met. 

“Uh--” You purse your lips in a bid to form a coherent sentence. “That’s really... honest of you.”

Jun Hyuk grins sweetly, eyes halving into crescents and creasing his skin around his lids. He has a dimple in his left cheek, a detail that you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t sitting directly opposite you. 

“So, can I?”

Confusion strikes you, only because assumption is a dangerous thing we like to do. 

“Can you... what?”

“Hang out with you.”

The whir of the air-conditioner in the library becomes a little louder alongside the thumping that was now difficult to ignore in your head. 

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you can feel your face catching fire, so Jun Hyuk eases it by restarting a conversation.

“Anyway, have you done the work from today?”

“I--” You look down at the worksheet he was taking out from his bag. It’s barely filled. “I’ve been staring at it for awhile now--”

“Not good at Math?”

“I’m better at...” Jun Hyuk takes the worksheet and gets up, scooting over to the seat next to you. A gulp finds a way down your throat. “...English and Literature...”

“Well, it’s your lucky day because I’m great at Math.”

Up close, Jin Hyuk smells like fresh linen. 

Not a great sign. He knows what makes a girl tick. 

Jun Hyuk spends the rest of the afternoon helping you with the worksheet, and the glimmer in his eyes...

“Are you listening?”

Your jaw slacks in surprise, blinking your attention away from staring at him. A chuckle sounds from Jun Hyuk, who looks away with the slightest hint of pride.

Jun Hyuk makes you feel like you are prancing on clouds for the next few weeks. The little notes he passed in class that earned the attention of his new friends, Younghoon and Hyunjae. The sweets and treats that he’d leave on your desk before school and the after-school study sessions were your favourite part of the day. 

He’d expected you to be calm and collected when he took the initiative to hold your hand under the table, but he could read how nervous and anxious you got, so he thinks it’s a good idea to ease that anxiety with a kiss on your cheek. 

Lee Eun was no longer around to ask you for her diary, but the faceless shadow was still tailing you when you were in the classroom. It’s never interfered with your daily routine though, thus you choose to leave it be and enjoy being a normal teenager for once. 

Three months after you met Jun Hyuk though, you could tell Hyunjae was deliberately steering away from him, dragging Younghoon along with him. You can’t help but wonder if it was because you and Jun Hyuk were now romantically involved and that Hyunjae had probably caught wind of the fact that you could see things that weren’t there, leading him to ostracise Jun Hyuk. 

Not that it had that much effect anyway, Jun Hyuk was a charming boy on his own; he didn’t need Hyunjae’s help to ‘make it’ in school.

The day carries on as per usual with Jun Hyuk staying in school to study with you. Hands busy scribbling away and eyes darting across worksheets, you’ve always admired how focussed he gets when he does his work. 

In attempt to pull him out of his stress-bubble, you cap on your pen and lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder after making sure there was nobody else left in the library. 

“Do you want to take a break? You’ve been going at it for quite some time now.”

“I’m just about there, just hold on a minute, would you?”

A pout surfaces on your lips. “I know. I just... do you ever feel bad that Hyunjae and Younghoon aren’t as close to you as before?”

Jun Hyuk finishes the line he’s writing and looks up at you. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, I just... you must’ve heard the rumor that I can see ghosts. Aren’t you upset that they might be leaving you out because of that?”

“You can see ghosts?” He scoffs. His attitude feels strange today, though he hasn’t said anything wrong. “That’s just stupid. And no, I don’t really care.”

“Oh,” A pause halts you, so you can think of an appropriate response. “You don’t... believe in ghosts or spirits?”

“No, that stuff is for kids.”

The thought of Jun Hyuk not believing in something you were known to be able to see was strangely more discomforting than not.

“Why’d you ask about Hyunjae and Younghoon? I thought you weren’t close with those guys?” He’s placing his pens into his pencil case and keeping his worksheets in his file. You start doing the same. 

“I-- I’m not, I’m just asking for your sake.”

“My sake?” He clears the table of his items and leans back in his seat. “Why would it bother me? Is it because you don’t get to talk to them anymore?”

“What? Why would that matter to me?”

“I don’t know, you were pretty smitten with Hyunjae just a few weeks ago.”

“Since when?”

“You think I didn’t notice when you were smiling at him when he was making those jokes-- they weren’t even that funny?”

A frown has finally cemented itself between your brows. “I’m sorry, where is this jealousy even coming from? Why didn’t you just tell me when you saw it?”

Jun Hyuk goes silent, and you can tell he’s upset just by thinking about it. Sighing, you rest your head on his shoulder again in a bid to appease his anger. 

“Alright, I’m sorry, okay? I was just concerned that you might feel left out or anything. And rest assured, I wasn’t flirting with Hyunjae.”

Jun Hyuk hums in response, reaching your chin to pull you closer. Your heart starts to pound in your ear when he doesn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours, the sudden intimacy catching you off-guard and sending chills down your spine. 

Something doesn’t feel right.

“Jun--” You manage to cough out, just as he starts to bury his nose and lips into your neck. “Jun Hyuk, not here.”

“Come on, there’s nobody here. Isn’t it exciting?” He smirks into your skin but it makes you feel dirty. 

“Jun, we really shouldn’t. I’m tired today so...” Gently pushing him off, his eyes are now filled with the ache of rejection. Somewhere inside you, you hope that he understands. But you also hope he knows he’s being an asshole.

“I... I think I’m going to go,” Backing away, you can hear your heart in your ears as you reverse, returning to the table to clear your stationery. His footsteps come dangerously close behind you before you are yanked around violently, each of your elbows coming into tight restraint in his palms. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going home,” When your eyes meet his, they are dark under the lighting. And even then, it seems like the man you trusted had turned to dust and blown away in the wind. “Please, let me go.”

“But don’t you trust me? Didn’t you say that you didn’t know what you’d do without me?” It’s horrifying when his nose comes dangerously closely to yours, his lips that were once part of a daydream now slowly being torn to shreds, forming an idea of a nightmare in your mind. 

If you could feel darkness, you were sure you could hurl out nothing but black masses, when he aggressively pastes his lips to yours. There’s a stark difference being in love and being trustworthy... and being this person who was cutting off the blood supply from your face to your mouth now. 

“Let me go, please!” Your strength is rendered useless in his tight grip around your wrists, and now he decides to shift his tongue to your neck, harshly sucking on the skin and flesh and making you want to hurl and sob instead. The struggle you offered was of no use to Jun Hyuk, not when he is able to shove you backwards and plaster your back to the study desk with all your pens and pencils under your back. 

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?!” 

“You should’ve thought about that before you kissed me first in the garden the other day, no?”

The tears finally stream when the betrayal sets in. Not even prayers would work anymore, would they?

Using his upper body weight to hold you to the table, the metal clinking of his belt comes like a warning when you can feel the tears wetting the strands of your hair. 

“Jun Hyuk, please...”

“Shut up,” Ice cold fingers run up the length of your thighs and around your hips under your skirt, scratching your skin as he removes your underwear. “Isn’t this how much you trust me?”

Sobs run through gritted teeth as your chin tilts to the ceiling, his body absorbing every ounce of struggle and force you were exerting on him. But, it was so easily drained into him that you were gradually turning limp and lifeless. Hearing him undo his zipper while he wets and marks your skin with his tongue and teeth shuts off all your senses. Your eyes flutter shut with resignation, the shivering and trembling seeping away with your need to escape. 

Help me. 

Something fuses loudly. The lights go off. 

“Who’s there?! Motherfucker!” 

The zip goes back up, and the weight on you shifts away. 

“I’m going to kill you!”

His voice wears away, getting softer with his footsteps. 

Still crying, you pull up your underwear that was dangling at your ankles and push yourself off the surface of the table. Everything on the desk gets swept into your back before you stumble out of the secluded study area, the light of the late sunset greeting your tear stained face. 

Reaching home feels like reaching the end point in a marathon, just that instead of feeling pride and glory, you were feeling nothing but worthlessness. 

The lukewarm water feels like a gentle hug around your body when you sink into the cold marble, knees propped up and surfaced with your feet flat against the base of the bathtub. 

Swollen eyes from crying but too tired to cry somemore, and you find difficulty in even remembering why you even fell for Jun Hyuk in the first place.

It was my fault for bringing it up. I shouldn’t have brought it up. 

Maybe if I didn’t have this gift then I didn’t need to ask or worry about Jun Hyuk being ostracised. Maybe it shouldn’t be called a gift after all.

This pain is temporary, right? This small blade can do more than ease the pain. This blood that colors the water can do more than dry the tears from my eyes.

I wish I wasn’t born with this gift. 

You close your eyes and let yourself sink into the tub, under the surface of the water. The water starts to feel thicker, and before you can count to five, it starts going up your nose. 

But then it feels like you’ve been sucked into another dimension and thrown back onto your bed when you gasp, sitting up and choking out what feels like water in your throat. 

Your hands fumble around yourself, and you wince when you look down at your wrists. The vertical cut looked more like a scar that’s already healed, rather than an injury you had chosen to inflict on yourself just hours before.

The clock strikes 3.33am, and while you would usually be kind of freaked out because 3 is not an auspicious number, you can’t help but to feel some kind of relief when you realised you were still alive. 

The next few days you spend in the shadows. Jun Hyuk tries to apologise to you on more than one occasion, but when you glitch and nearly break down when he gets anywhere near you, your friends start to understand that something had happened.

Why would you want to take your life all of a sudden?

Mr. Shadowman doesn’t leave you alone though. Instead, it starts following you more aggressively, showing up in the strangest of places and in the most horrendous positions. You had seen it standing with its feet planted to the ceiling of the cafeteria, then again standing perfectly still behind the classroom door when the teacher closed it. 

Then it finally follows you into the bathroom after school. You’ve changed your studying location to your classroom, so you wouldn’t need to worry about being alone.

But no matter how many times you see this shadow, seeing it curled up under the sink in the female’s toilet makes you yelp and jump backwards, not even enticing a reaction from it. 

“You...” Gripping the edge of the sink, you squat and stare at it. “What do you need from me?”

“I wouldn’t go anywhere nearer to it if I were you.” Your eyes dart up into the broken glass above the sink. Seeing Hyunjae staring at you through the reflection, with the pillar hiding the rest of his body was surprising. 

It dawns on you that whatever you were seeing, Hyunjae could see it too.

The shadow remained still under the sink, crouched into a mass like someone holding its knees to its chest. The water dripping from under the sink slips through the mass like it wasn’t there. Hyunjae spares you a few seconds to stare at it some more until he grabs your arm and pulls you out of the toilet.

“What the-- don’t touch me--” Yanking your wrist out of his hands, you jerk away from him. The impact pulls your sleeves upwards, revealing the bruises that Jun Hyuk had left on you just a few days ago -- and the scar of the cut down your forearm. 

His attention is stolen by the marks, cuing you to nervously pull your sleeves back down as you steal a glance at Hyunjae’s face. 

“Don’t interact with that thing,” He advises after a few moments of silence. “It’s been following you.”

Looking up with a harsh frown on your face, confusion and anger starts to seep through your bones. 

“You mean to tell me you could see these things all this while?”

Hyunjae’s eyes fill with a tiny pinch of guilt, but he doesn’t look away. 

“That thing is harmless,” Your thumb brushes across the area where the bruise was hidden under the material of your sleeve. “It saved me.”

“If it’s harmless or any bit human then why doesn’t it have a face? Or eyes or hair or a mouth?”

“So, you can’t see what it is either. Have you seen others? Ghosts, the angel orbs, demons--”

“Get this clear in your head, I am not here to discuss what you can see,” Hyunjae takes a step closer and looks at you with an expression you can’t read. Was he angry? Frustrated? Worried? Concerned?

“But do not engage with whatever that is. They only stick around if you entertain it, and right now, you are just short of becoming friends with it.”

“You make it sound like you know everything about that other world.”

“And you make it sound like you haven’t seen a demon and that there are no dangers of it.”

The proximity starts to make you anxious; his build is similar to Jun Hyuk’s and the physical confrontation starts to knock on your skull is all the ways possible. Hyunjae retreats when he notices your eyes are unable to meet his now, and he walks away with his fists clenched. 

That night, you are unable to fall asleep. Not with the new revelation that Hyunjae can see the same things you do. Or was it just the shadow that he can see?

Has he seen the orbs or angels or demons?

You sit up in your bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness when a thud wakes you up. The crickets outside are loud in the silent night, but it takes you just a split second to recognise the shadow standing in the corner where the door meets the corner of the room. 

Keeping your eyes peeled, you fumble around at your nightstand, searching for the button of the lamp. It doesn’t disappear though, when the amber light illuminates the cream-pink room. 

“What do you need?” The query comes out more like a whisper, because most spirits you meet are ghosts who need your help or are willing to talk to you -- most of them have faces and eyes and have some resemblance to being human at some point of time in their life. 

The shadow pulls itself off the wall, and turns from a flat, regular shadow into a mass of darkness; the same way it was in the classroom when you first saw it, then later under the sink in the bathroom. 

This is the first time this has happened -- a shadow that was very obviously a being and yet you cannot decide if it was something harmful or something that once walked the Earth. 

By now, the shadow is just about two metres away from your bed, yet you find yourself inching backwards because you cannot predict what it would (or could) do to you. 

Then it lifts an arm that reaches out to you, darkness flowing like steam off its limbs as it gets closer to you. But just before it can touch you, a flash of brightness interrupts your interaction.

“Stop.”

Your room is brightly lit up for a split second, blinding you from seeing the shadow. So when your eyes come back into focus, your eyes are about to fall out of your skull when you recognise the back of someone you know. 

Hyunjae was standing right next to your bed, between you and the shadow, now visibly a physical  blob of darkness. 

“You have no business here with her. You don’t even need to be here.”

Silence. 

Hyunjae looks at the shadow intently. He is listening to it talk to him, but you hear nothing but the crickets chirping outside. 

“Jang Jun Hyuk will be mine to deal with, not yours. You do not need to be here.”

Lee Hyunjae... just what are you?

“Seer but is she a...”

“What did you just say?” You blurt out when the strange croak gets to your head. Hyunjae flinches and turns around to look at you, eyes flickering with worry before turning back to the shadow.

Now, you can see blue orbs for eyes and skin pulled and stretched like it had been worn out through hundreds of years. It was neither a ghost nor human. 

It didn’t look like Lee Eun or the elderly man you saw when you were 8, nor did it look like the female demon you saw at 13. 

“Leave, you do not belong here.”

“To deserves she know.”

“Know what?” Impatience and fear was getting the better of you, and if Hyunjae was more than human, he would know. “...That I can see you?”

“No, she cannot know!” Hyunjae tries to block you from the ghoul. “That is not your place to tell her!”

The ghoul proves more powerful than Hyunjae and reaches right through him, creating a bright outline of his limb through Hyunjae’s chest. 

“No!” 

That was the last thing you hear just as the shadow touches your forehead, snapping your neck backwards and sending your memory into a dimension you cannot recognise. 

“You will be blessed with eternal protection.”

That was the blessing the elderly man offered you when you were eight. Little did you know that he was merely reading a blessing pinned to your existence on its own. 

"The son of Saint Michael had fallen in love with the fairy of the mortals. Saint Michael hadn’t offered the tiniest bit of worry or concern over his son becoming star-crossed lovers. Angels were meant to be with angels and fairies with fairies... Granted that even if you did know about his son’s feelings, you would eventually realise that it was against the laws of the world, for you were a gateway for the Good to seep into the mortal world. But what Saint Michael did not know was that the fairy his son had fallen in love with had stored the same amount of love he had for her in his heart.” 

“The Heavens forbid star-crossed lovers between the two breeds of beings. Saint Michael himself couldn’t believe it when his son caved into his feelings right after you did. Fairies were fickle-minded; the only beings of the world of immortals that once walked the Earth as human beings. It was expected that you would provide the same love to the Archangel’s son -- but when he decided to embrace you in his all-gold halo of light... Saint Michael knew he could not afford losing the bearings of his son. He had decided that mortalising you would be a smart decision; keeping you close by letting you protect your ability to connect with this world but restraining you from ever returning to Hyunjae’s side.”

“Yet, like mortals, even immortal beings are unable to fight the strength of love. Hyunjae had decided descend to the world of the Humans and Mortals... to protect you by your side in your second life, allowing you to see him, touch him.”

The day you were reborn was the day Hyunjae had decided to humanise himself, albeit the process was draining and set him on a ticking clock from returning to the other world.

The ghoul looks at you, his blue eyes now revealing himself as a fairy who had disguised himself, in a bid to warn you before you had sold your heart to Hyunjae, something you cannot be with.

“You are paying the price for a fault that was his, do you not bear any resentment?”

The memories return. Flashes of Hyunjae smiling at you because he knew you could see him. The kisses that stained his skin because you were a mere mortal with abilities, and he was a being that was meant for more. 

“How is this his fault?”

The fairy is silent, thinking of the words to say. 

“Had he lived up to the responsibilities of being the son of Saint Michael, he wouldn’t have caved in.”

Your hair feels light around your shoulders, watching the fairy slowly morph into something less ambiguous. 

“What would have happened if we didn’t fall in love in my first life?”

The fairy had grown wings that looks like glass, reflecting light into seven colors into the abyss beyond you. He looks at you, blue eyes never faltering. 

“You would’ve become an Undine Fairy, and Hyunjae would’ve had to return to the world of the Skies--”

“And I would never see him again.”

He can see that you’ve had a glimpse into your past life; the forbidden love you had for Hyunjae now buried deep inside you. It feels like someone had just stuck a shovel 6 feet into your heart and dug out every remnant he could find. 

“Would you have let him go, had he been true to his existence and you had become an Undine?”

“There’s no way I can answer that, can I?”

The fairy blinks and starts walking backwards. “The rules between the two Worlds are forged in stone, but everybody knows that the matters of the spirit and soul cannot be bound by tangible logic. Your choice depends on what you believe: will you choose to believe what you see or what you feel?”

The question echoes inside your head, and the world around you flashes brightly like you had just died and walked into heaven.

Your consciousness returns to current time, eyes fluttering open as your alarm clock rings you awake. Sitting opposite you, eyes closed as you watch him snoozing lightly despite sitting in a chair, you feel a pinch in your chest. 

It’s not his fault, and never will be. 

[urlocalnctstan]

The Beauty And The Beast

Epoch 1

Autumn was here. The surroundings that were once green were now adorned in hues of orange and brown. Jaehyun flipped through the book he was currently reading, who's title went by 'Summerhill', subconsciously reminding himself to read it again as he finished it again for the hundredth time, to be precise, 113th. He sipped on his black tea as his eyes drifted towards the wooden window, observing the new change in nature. Neither seasons nor weather mattered to him, at the end of the day it would only be him all alone after all. His eyes lingered for a moment on the orange leaves until he felt the need to get up, debating silently on what library he should visit next, preferably somewhere desolate.

He despised human interaction; the hunger at times just kicks in when he can hardly control himself to stay composed. Things were not supposed to be this way, his whole family, his brothers would have been here if it were not for that dreadful malicious night. He passed through his library, the vintage touch of the best designers very prominent. The walls were transformed into wooden shelves, stained and burnished in textures of a brown oak tree. It was no surprise the whole library was filled with books, the shelves divided into 10 for all the brothers. Jaehyun did not reside on a specific genre, he loved to surf around all the categories, whilst the interests of others ranged from fantasies to science fiction. He liked the smell of the library, the odd scent of paper and wood subtly brought him comfort, for it would stage an illusion for him, making him feel that he was not the only one here. Living all alone for over 50 years has indeed made him more anti-social, his demeanor a big contrast to the one he had before all the tragedy occurred.

You on the other hand stayed still, cursing yourself for not arranging the books, and it was only seconds before the lady would recognize your negligence. You prayed, desperately clutched your hands, and silently kept praying, it was your only job and you cannot afford to lose it. As if in a response to your prayers, a man, probably in his mid-twenties entered the worn-out shabby premises, catching you off guard because literally, no one visits this rotten library. However, as he came closer, you felt your breath hitch as you took a nervous gulp; that man was breathtaking. His brown coat accentuated his broad build, the black hat perfectly resting on his black hair.

"I came to return this book," he scrunched his nose, it was enough for you to understand his distaste, slightly feeling embarrassed since you were the one who suggested it. Your manager lady similarly caught on the young man's comprehensible expression, shooting me a warning look that it could be my last chance to save my job. For a shitty library, it surprisingly paid you well.

"I am extremely sorry for my negligence sir, how about this, I'll bring you the newest and most popular books every week?" You anxiously fidgeted as you brought out the library logbook, scribbling down the return.

"I-uh...that would be very courteous of you. Thank you..." he eyes trailed on your tag, "Ms.Y/N."

"Thank you thank you thank you so much, young man, you're a lifesaver." You grabbed his hands, shaking them furiously in gratitude. His hands were oddly cold, too cold actually.

Jaehyun felt weird, it had been years since he had faced any human interaction. He quickly withdrew his hands, his now pink ears hidden by his black. Nonetheless, he was kind of grateful he would not have to face 2 hours long entourage to the library.

"I was about to lose my only regular customer, all because of your stupid choice," the lady scoffed, scrutinizing your every movement whilst you were cleaning the shelves. He was a regular but I never met him. "I shouldn't have fired the other one listening to you." She flashed you one last alarming look before storming out of the place. You let out all breathe that you had been holding while she was here, thanking heavens for not screwing up your life. While you held the book that read 'Summerhill', you could not help but let your mind wander to the only encounter you had today, apart from your manager lady's wrath. Why is it that I had failed to meet this Greek God in the past three months I’ve been working? You thought to yourself, organizing the suggestion shelf, the culprit which caused the book to land upon the hands of the Greek God, namely Jaehyun. With a loud audible huff, you decided it would be better to just organize the whole suggestion shelf, quietly reminding yourself to not be so biased on the books you chose just because the author was your favorite.

It was almost evenfall when Jaehyun reached back abode, the dilapidated exterior did no justice to its actual architectural essence, and the touches of the Victorian designs camouflaged by the overgrown bushes, the oak trees stood menacingly in the rear. At a glance, anyone would have thought it was a creepily haunted house, home to all the demonic supernatural things that could come to one’s mind. Jaehyun internally cringed for a brief moment, even after all these years, his laziness in keeping his home neat was still something he had to work on. Jaehyun felt shivers running down his spine as he thought how badly Taeyong would have reacted if he were to sight this view.

He felt his still heart tug, the probable scenarios of his brothers painting themselves in the back of his mind, how ecstatic and chaotically pleasant it would have been with them by his side, one and united again. For the first time that year, he went to the forbidden chamber in the mansion.

The room resided in the right west wing on the second floor of the villa. The long corridor that leads to the room barely had any light, the large velvet curtains were draped against the huge windows. With heavy steps he climbed up the wooden stairs, only the sounds of the woods creaking and his heavy breathing being audible. He wanted to retreat as he stood in front of the door, the wood had become too worn-out, the insects starting to make it their forever habitat. Jaehyun was unsure of the overwhelming emotions he was facing; he was hurt, scared but most importantly guilty. The fact that his brothers were in this state, all because of him, this guilt eats him up every day. He pulled the handle, the bronze material felt cold against his already cold pale skin. As he stepped inside, he was welcomed by all his brothers, standing still and lifeless. Jaehyun was cursed with loneliness for 51 years, all because he was too prideful and selfish to think of anyone else but himself. His brothers might have been the only exception; he treasured all of them with all of his heart. But he remained cold to the others, as he would call them 'outsiders'. At times when he would go out with his brothers, he would cross people suffering in cold or starvation, but never once did he have the heart to aid them with their trivial surviving necessities. Clouded in his superiority, he never claimed any of the girls he had been with, treated them as either one-night-stands or a way of passing his boring time.

One winter night, the heavens decided to test his limits of such obnoxious egoistic nature. A highly respected priestess roaming around the jungle seemed to have lost her way back, and thus decided she might just rest the night. She was always in her house, training to be more and more powerful until she became one. Completely inexperienced of human nature, her curiosity lead her to explore what it was like to live normally for a day, eventually leading to an aristocratic family's residence, the NEO Residence. They were the most powerful families of the 1800s, their fame and wealth being no new news to anyone. But she still decided to see if their wealth and fame were equivalent to their kindness. The priestess disguised herself in the clothing of a pregnant woman, her dress completely soiled and ragged; making her seem pitiful and powerless. She chanted something eerily magical, instantly transforming the calm snowfall into a vicious snowstorm.

Back at the NEO residents, the young men seemed to get baffled at the sudden change of demeanor of the weather. Johnny was the first to notice, keeping aside the book he was previously reading as he went over to the large windows of their house, the wood felt cold and beads of ice were already starting to form on the contrary side of the window glass.

“Taeil, Taeyong, what just happened?” He motioned the other two towards the window he stood in front, both failing to grasp the situation.

“Maybe it’s just an unprecedented snowstorm; don’t worry brother it’ll die soon.” He said despite feeling a bit uneasy for some reason. Neither Taeil nor Johnny could avoid their anxiousness; they felt something but could not quite comprehend the reason behind it. Similarly, the others started to take notice of the situation as well; Doyoung sprinting off to get Mark and Haechan from their rooms whilst Yuta stayed beside Jungwoo in case if he had a panic attack. But one seems to remain just as unbothered and lofty prideful as usual, Jaehyun. Winwin ushered Taeyong where Jaehyun was sitting, annoyed by his way too relaxed composure. Taeyong just nodded, as if he was telling Winwin that he would talk to Jaehyun for being like this yet again; at that point, it had become something very common for him.

“I don’t feel good about this,” Yuta sighed, rubbing the temples of his forehead.

“Neither do we brother,” Taeil said as he looked at Johnny, their worried glances meeting each other before the latter went over towards the window again.

“It is showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.” Johnny inspected before pulling over the curtains; an attempt to calm themselves down by concealing the ruckus occurring outside.

“Aren’t you all tiring out yourselves a bit too much?” Jaehyun got up from his seat, swirling the red wine gracefully in the expensive sherry glass he was holding. “Come on, brothers, it is just a snowstorm. Nothing can ever happen to us.”

“Jaehyun, can you for once stop being so obnoxious and think rationally? Do you really think it’s just a normal storm going on out there?” Winwin exclaimed, his face filled with rage.

“Not my problem, ya’ll go ahead tire yourselves out.” Jaehyun pursed his lips before returning to his seat, filling up his empty glass yet again.

Just then, they heard soft knocks coming from the main door of their house, followed by pleas for help. Taeyong rushed to the door, quickly opening as he was welcomed by the whirl of the snowstorm and a young poor pregnant lady. He quickly brought her inside before calling over Johnny and Yuta to shut the door, the force of the storm was a bit too much.

“I can’t find my way back to my house, please, let me stay for just one night.” the lady pleaded, barely holding herself up.

“Sure, no problem. We’ll ma-”

“No.” Jaehyun abruptly cut off Taeyong, staring at his intently at the lady. “You don’t have the right to, look at yourself,” Jaehyun scoffed as he stood up. “Do you really think you’re worth enough to stay here? Really?”

“Jaehyun stop it! Enough already!” Taeyong shouted, his loud voice echoing throughout the whole house. “For fuck’s sake, she’s pregnant, stop it.”

“Don’t try voicing out your opinions on me Taeyong.” Jaehyun now shifted his gaze towards his older brother, who was clearly outraged by his imprudence “Pregnant? It makes me not let her stay, even more, at least she’ll give birth to a normal human, unlike us.” He scoffed. “Or she is just gonna leave her child alone, just like our mother did.

“Stop it Jaehyun, you’re crossing it,” Taeil said calmly, contrasting his fuming self.

“Why big brother? Finally, feeling sorry for your girlfriend? Should have thought before he fed on her.”

“ENOUGH!” the lady yelled, her voice changing to her original. “My, my. My instincts were indeed right about you.” She chuckled as she looked directly towards Jaehyun, her green eyes glowing menacingly. The storm outside seemed to have shifted inside now, a tornado of green wind and sparkling dust surrounding the lady, the middle glowing with such tremendous light that the men had to cover their eyes in fear that they will go blind. As the tornado stopped, their faces went pale, they knew who she was.

“High Priestess Valery..” Haechan’s eyes widened in realization. The priestess smiled, clearly knowing the effect of authority she had on them

“Jaehyun it is huh?” She walked further towards him, whilst he still stood high despite the unsettling feeling he was then starting to feel in his half functioning heart. “You really think of yourself this high? No wonder even the headquarters nicknamed you imbecile.”

“We apologize for his gaffe, high priestess.” Taeyong knelt, the others following him.

Jaehyun felt his throat form a lump, he could not voice out an apology as he knelt for forgiveness. Disrespecting, that too the high priestess of the clan was a great omission; an act equivalent to committing high treason. Jaehyun knew he was doomed, he felt sicker and sicker as he thought about what could possibly happen next.

“I was actually looking forward to you know, rectify your spoiled little brother, but it seems to me that it is quite a handful of work.” She remarked, her bracelet with various initials glowing.

“We promise, we’ll discipline him more, high priestess.” Taeil pleaded. But Valery seemed to ignore all of their pleas.

“He needs to learn it by himself,” She said. “But you all are not quite the innocents as well.” Valery did something with her hands, fumes of lilac, and blue clouding around her fingers. A loud sound erupted as the gaseous colors spread throughout the hall, flashes of various images appearing. “Look carefully you foolish beings, look what you have been doing because of your monstrous selves.” “It wasn’t our fault, we were completely clueless as to what we were doing, and we knew nothing about our kinds,” Haechan exclaimed sorrowfully. “You kill innocents to satiate your beastly taste buds and still dare to say you’re not at fault?” Valery bellowed. “A death caused by accident or impulse is still nonetheless death to me, a murder.”

“As for you,” Valery said while pointing her forefinger towards Jaehyun. “You have shown me that not only you’re a beast outside, but also inside. I condemn you to eternal loneliness; your only family turning into lifeless statues, they can’t converse, eat, and sleep, a curse that shall remain for a lifetime if not broken within a span of 51 years, a curse that shall be broken only if a maiden chooses to fall for you despite your beastly nature.” And in a blink of an eye, she disappeared.

Jaehyun felt numb, his limbs paralyzing as he propped to the ground, seeing his brothers’ bodies turning into stones. Taeyong’s eyes glistened with tears, as it rolled down his cheeks, Jaehyun wondered if he would ever be able to free them from the wrath that befell them only because of him.   

[goldenraeofsun]

Symmetria

A 15x18 fix-it, set post-series

Also available on AO3

Dean doesn’t make an immediate trip to the Empty when all’s said and done with Chuck. He takes his time getting used to his new gig as capital D Death. Billie, of course, did not see fit to leave him a training manual. Instead Dean gets a squad of whiny angels (reapers, but still) to manage and a bajillion books to read, so he does his best to channel his inner Cas and get the job done. 

It’s nothing like that day old Death brought him along on Take Your Human to Work Day. For one, Dean's been to Heaven, so he’s not as torn up about reaping kids and good people. He can tell them with complete honesty, You’re gonna be in a better place. Heaven's awesome. No cryptic bullshit when Dean’s holding the scythe. 

For another, he’s also been to Hell, and Rowena herself set him straight on her plans for the place. Sending dead scumbags and murderers down to her is the highlight of his day. 

It’s still exhausting work, and he gets why Billie thought it would be a better punishment than killing him outright. He can never rest, never find peace, since there’s always a job to do. Death and taxes, and all that. 

Not that Dean wanted to kick the bucket before his little brother. But now Sam’s capital G God, so they’ll both be hanging around for a while longer. When Dean reaps him, Dean’ll give one of his lackeys the scythe, and they’ll both party it up in the Empty. 

Oh, and he’ll reap Jack too, since Dean can’t reap God without the Darkness. Balance, as those damn books keep telling him. 

“Hey.” Dean stomps his snowy feet on the welcome mat. He hikes his take out bags higher in his arms. 

Eileen signs hello. “How are things?”

Dean grins as they make their way to Sam and Jack in the kitchen. “Sent a Wall Street embezzler down to Rowena before I got here.” He knocks hard on the table with his knuckles to get Sam and Jack’s attention. 

Jack looks up from the textbook they both had been pour over, beaming. “Dean’s here.”

“Already?” Sam’s gaze darts to the clock above the oven. 

Dean drops the food on the table. “It’s Sunday dinner! I wouldn’t miss it since you’d probably starve without me.” He pulls out a chair and flips the book to his side of the table. He scans it with mild interest. “What’re you working on?”

“History!” Jack says brightly. “I’m learning about ancient Rome.”

Dean turns to Sam. “You know, you could just take him to see Caesar, right? Or I could. Rowena gave us an all-access pass.”

Sam bitchfaces at him. “That’s not the point, Dean.”

“The point is to learn critical thinking and rhetorical skills without supernatural assistance,” Jack says, and obviously those aren’t his words judging by the proud look on Sam’s face.

Eileen shakes her head, signing emphatically, “I don’t know if that counts if God is helping with your homework.”

“I’m just supervising!” Sam protests.

Dean snorts. "Uh huh."

Jack peers at the takeout bags with interest. “What did you bring for dinner, Dean?”

“Russian,” Dean says with a grin as Jack pulls out a container of pierogies. “Borscht, stuffed cabbage, and stroganoff. Plus some vegetable thing. I don’t know - it was all in Russian.”

Sam rolls his eyes since a little thing like a language barrier isn’t really a problem for them anymore. They’re all fluent in ASL from a snap of Sam’s fingers. He had first offered to restore Eileen’s hearing, but she politely declined. Being Deaf is part of her identity, apparently, just like keeping his stupid Jesus hair is Sam’s.

“This looks delicious,” Eileen signs as she gets to her feet to grab plates. Jack hops up too, making a bee-line for the cutlery drawer.

Sam tosses Jack’s homework on the empty seat at the table. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine,” Dean says. He pulls the stroganoff closer for first dibs.

Sam narrows his eyes as he accepts a plate from Eileen. “You sure?”

“What?” Dean makes a face. “It’s true.”

“I think you can aim a little higher than fine,” Sam says exasperatedly. “You’re a universal constant who has Sunday dinner with two cosmic beings. Plus Eileen.”

“I do only come here for Eileen,” Dean acknowledges solemnly.

Eileen winks at him as she sits back down. Jack laughs.

“There’s gotta be something else you want out of this,” Sam says, gesturing around them.

The one thing I want, is something I know I can’t have.

Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and dumps stroganoff on his plate. He deliberately does not look at the empty chair to his right, currently occupied by Jack’s homework. 

“It’s too soon,” he grunts.

“Is it?” Sam asks, eyebrows raised. “You’ve got your reapers under control. I’ve created enough new angels to run Heaven without blackouts. Jack’s got a handle on his Darkness powers and settled in at school. There’s literally been no better time.”

Dean sighs. “What if something happens?” He looks at each of them in turn. “We’ve finally got something good going for us.”

Jack makes a face like he killed yet another plant without meaning to. “But is it really good without Cas?”

* * *

Dean has lost count of the number of times he’s replayed Cas’s final moments on Earth in his head. He has also lost count of his regrets. There were so many times he could have said something, done something. Been the loving man Cas talked about in his goodbye.

But he isn’t.

He can’t love Cas. If Dean did, he would have caught on a hell of a lot sooner. Wouldn’t have waited or held back. Wouldn’t have, for the first time in that moment, questioned whether Cas could feel something as human as that. For him, of all the mud monkeys on planet Earth.

Instead, he just stood there like a jackass and let Cas get taken away by black goo again.

Love is sacrifice. Cas hammered that point home like no demon deal, no trials, no soul bomb ever has.

But Dean’s a Winchester, and if their family is known for anything, it’s throwing sacrifices back in each other’s faces - spitefully, lovingly.

Sam and Eileen hit the books. Jack writes down all he remembers about his time in the Empty.

It takes two weeks to come up with a spell to take out the Empty, or, at least, temporarily cut it off at the knees.

Dean, Sam, and Jack head back to the Bunker. Technically, Dean still lives there, but he’s usually all over the country, carrying out his Deathly duties. He hasn’t spent the night since they took out Chuck. After the adrenaline crash, he just sat back with his brother-turned-God at the war table and wondered if this’ll be the rest of their supernaturally long lives. Neither of them said much.

They prep the spells in the kitchen before heading down to the dungeon - the most secure room in the Bunker. Dean, tense as a coiled spring, tries to keep up with the laughs and jokes, but Sam keeps shooting him knowing looks.

“You good?” Sam asks as they get ready for the last seps. 

Dean, his mouth dry, can only nod.

They prop up the bowl of ingredients on an old filing cabinet, and Jack stands by with Empty bombs (based on Kevin’s demon bombs). Sam bleeds into the bowl and reads out the Enochian.

The whole Bunker rumbles ominously, before the overhead lights pop out, one by one.

Dean almost laughs - or cries. Hard to tell in the dark.

Shadows bubble up from the middle of the floor, blacker than anything else in the room. Dean adjusts his grip on his scythe, waiting with bated breath as the tarry, otherworldly substance takes a humanoid shape.

It settles on a body and a face, and Dean sees red. He stabs it straight in its trenchcoated chest, right where its heart would be.

The Empty stares down at the blade, its expression turning to wry amusement. “I believe the saying is ‘deja vu’?”

“Shut up,” Dean hisses. He yanks his scythe back as, behind him, Sam snaps his fingers. A few of the lights repair themselves. To the Empty, Dean growls, “Wear someone else’s face.”

The Empty bristles like it’s almost offended. “No?”

Sam pulls Dean behind him before Dean can stab it again. “Hi,” he says loudly over Dean’s angry spluttering, “I know we got off on the wrong foot last time, but-”

“Wrong foot?” the Empty interrupts, head tilting.

Dean’s fingers tighten around his scythe. How dare that thing wear Cas’s face, do Cas’s thing, talk like Cas. Only Sam’s arm in front of his chest stops Dean from surging forward and finishing what he started. 

“Yeah,” Sam says with a warning look at Dean. “In Death’s library - well, old Death. Dean uses a hard drive to store all his books of fate now. Look, you’re probably still pissed I woke you up, but all we need is one thing, and then we won’t bother you again.”

“Oh,” the Empty says. Its forehead furrows in a way Dean had seen on Cas too many times. The burning ache of regret flares with a new heat, and Dean glares murderously at the Empty as it says, “That wasn’t me.”

Sam’s mouth opens and closes. “What?”

The Empty clears its throat. “You met the old Empty. Billie and I killed it before she died.”

“The Empty can die?” Dean asks roughly.

It nods, its attention turning to Dean almost hungrily. “It was weakened from Jack’s explosion. Billie didn’t want to help me, naturally. But if the last Empty was still in charge, Billie’s final rest would have been far from peaceful.” It smiles. “I could also guarantee she would never have to see any of us ever again.”

“And who’re you?” Dean demands.

The smile drops off the Empty’s face. “You don’t know? After all this time?”

Dean swallows, a terrible, wonderful hope struggling to breathe in his chest. He tries, his voice almost a whisper. “Cas?” 

The Empty nods, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns to Sam for verification because there’s no fucking way Dean trusts himself anymore when it comes to Cas. But Sam’s face reads nothing but mingled relief and joy, so -

Dean lets the scythe drop with a clatter and strides forward on shaky legs. Cas tenses like he’s bracing for impact. “It’s alright,” Dean tells him in a low voice as he squeezes tight. Cas is real, alive (or alive as any of them are at this point), and back in the Bunker where he belongs. “I got you, Cas.”

Cas sighs, an exhale of bone-deep weariness. He buries his face deeper in the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean holds on even though it’s been way too long for a normal hug. But hell, Cas fucking loves him. Cas can deal with a little extra hug time.

Sam coughs pointedly as he steps up for his own hug. “It’s good to have you back, man.”

Cas smiles as he accepts a few manly back slaps from Sam. 

Jack rushes forward for his turn. 

“Jack,” Cas says reverently as he wraps his arms around him. “You’ve done so well.”

“Thank you,” Jack says, his voice cracking. “I missed you, Cas.”

Cas just shakes his head, overcome with emotion. “I’m very happy to see you.” He mutters a few words, too low for any of them to hear, as he disentangles himself from Jack’s arms. He looks around at the three of them. “I’d say you all are doing very well for yourselves.”

Grinning, Dean picks up his scythe and gives it a little spin. “Gee, what gave it away?” He sobers as Cas doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with an unreadable expression on his face. “But you already knew that,” Dean surmises.

“Chuck told me.”

Sam's eyes go wide. “Chuck?” 

“When he died, he was sent to the Empty,” Cas says shortly. “To me.”

Sam grimaces. “Sorry.”

Cas’s lips press together in a thin line. “It took forever for him to shut up. I suppose I should have expected it.” He sighs. “Chuck always did pride himself on being a storyteller.”

“And a dick,” Sam adds. 

 “Chuck told me about how you defeated him - his ‘greatest creations’,” Cas quotes sourly, “and about the cosmic consequences, which included a changing of the guard - God, the Darkness, Death,” he shakes his head, adding, “the Empty.”

“This was his plan?” Dean growls, his voice a mixture of anger and surprise. But his rage dies as Cas slowly shakes his head. 

“Not exactly, but he said he could appreciate the symmetry.”

“Of course he could.” Dean runs a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ, please tell me that’s the end of him.”

“I have complete control over the Empty,” Cas assures, “He isn’t waking up any time soon.”

“Oh,” Dean says awkwardly, “good. That’s good.”

Reluctantly, Cas tears his gaze away from Dean. He straightens, his mouth set determinedly, and asks Sam, “There was something you wanted?”

Sam shakes his head, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not anymore.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “If you need anything from the Empty, I can give it to you.” He glances at each of them in turn. “As I told you once, I am always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“No,” Dean chokes out before Sam or Jack can get a word in, “No goddamn bleeding - of any kind. Just, no.”

Cas’s frown deepens.

Sam grins. “We were gonna ask the Empty to wake you up. So I guess… we’re good.”

Cas blinks a few times in confusion. “You wanted… me?”

Jack throws him an incredulous look. “You’re a part of us, Cas. Of course we wanted you here.”

* * *

Dean makes burgers for dinner. Even though none of them need to eat, they’re far too used to it to stop. By the stove, he listens with half an ear as Jack peppers Cas with updates on the new world order and high school. Every once in a while, Sam’s voice comes through with a few modifiers and anecdotes.

Jack turns in first, complaining about leftover homework.

Sam takes off next, saying he promised to buy bread and eggs on the way home to Eileen. He leaves Dean and Cas alone in the Bunker’s kitchen.

Neither of them say anything as Sam’s footsteps fade up the stairs to the exit. Dean steadily keeps his eyes trained on the half-empty beer bottle spinning around in his hands. Cas sits next to him at the table, happy as a fucking clam to sit in silence, staring at Dean like he’s a goddamn miracle.

It’s too much.

This is why Dean didn’t jump to bring Cas back to the land of the living. It tore him apart inside, like metaphorical hellhound claws digging into his gut. Sure, Cas deserved to be topside. Cas deserved to have his happy ever after like the rest of Team Free Will 2.0. What Cas didn’t deserve, was a man with his head so far up his own ass he couldn’t muster up three measly words when they mattered most. And Dean had no idea how to tell Cas any of that.

“Dean,” Cas breaks the silence first because for all he said in his big goodbye speech, Dean’s a fucking coward. “I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” he clears his throat, “so I didn’t anticipate the position I would put you in by showing up. I apologize.”

Dean turns to him, alarmed. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my - I should have - you were - son of a bitch.” He presses his lips together so he doesn’t go blurting something stupid like you were so wrong about me; it fucked me up for a while.

“It’s okay,” Cas says gently. “I’ve seen Jack and you and Sam. That’s all I wanted since I left. Truly.”

Dean sucks in a breath, his pulse spiking with fear. “That sounds like another goodbye. I don’t - I don’t think I can take another one of those from you.”

Cas blinks. “You want me to stay?”

Dean’s mouth works furiously before he demands, “You don’t want to?”

“No,” Cas draws out slowly like he’s concerned for Dean’s sanity, “but if my presence-”

“Stop,” Dean holds up a hand, “just ‘cause I don’t know what to say to you -” liar “- doesn’t mean you have to get exiled from the whole planet. You saved the world, the same as us. The very least you get is free rent for eternity.” 

“If you say so,” Cas says doubtfully.

“Jack would be real upset if you fucked back off to the Empty for the rest of time,” Dean adds. “He’s studying the Roman Empire and could use some help from someone who was there.” He takes a sip of beer, and fuck cosmic tolerances. He could drink a whole liquor store and not feel anything. 

The corners of Cas’s mouth twitch. “I was actually stationed in China during that time. I would be a minor help at best.”

“Then make it up,” Dean says with a grin. “It’s not like Jack will know the difference. And if his teachers call him out on it, Sam can wave his magic wand and make it true anyway. All hail President Clinton.”

Cas snorts. “That would be one way to help, I suppose.”

Dean drains his beer, a purely instinctual response, before he starts, “You’ve levelled up. Got a power upgrade as the Empty.” At Cas’s tentative nod, he goes on, “You could’ve said something, dude. Given us some sign. I - we all thought you died. For good.”

“I cannot come to Earth without being summoned,” Cas says heavily.

Dean makes a face. “Rules like that never stopped any of us before.”

“You could have performed the summoning ritual at any time - all the cards were in your hands.” Cas’s gaze drops to the table. “I thought you didn’t want to see me.”

Dean shakes his head vehemently. “That wasn’t the case at all.”

“But you said you don’t know how to talk to me,” Cas points out.

Dean swallows. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you around. I didn’t know how to talk to you when you were cuckoo for cocoa puffs, when you had fucking amnesia. Hell, it was even weird when you were human. But things are… better with you here. No matter what.”

“Really?” Cas asks, the doubt clear in his voice.

“Of course,” Dean says gruffly. “You gotta know that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean says as he gets up for another drink - old habits, “now you do.”

“Do you still believe this?” Cas presses.

“Never doubted it for a second,” Dean promises as he sits back down.

“Even after you sent me away?” Cas asks quietly.

“Hey,” Dean says sharply, “You made that choice to walk out that door.” But that old anger doesn’t survive long in the wake of the look on Cas’s face. Dean smiles humorlessly as he twists the cap off. It clatters to the table, the sound echoing around the empty kitchen. “But, yeah, that was me being angry over a bunch of shit that was out of our control. Not you. You just happened to be in my line of fire.” Dean takes a long pull from the bottle. “What a guy to fall for, huh? Blames you for everything that goes wrong and makes you think you’re better off gone.”

Cas freezes. “So we’re talking about it?”

Dean raises his eyebrows, half in surprise at himself. “Guess so.”

“Nothing has to change,” Cas assures him. “The only difference is you know about my feelings for you.”

“How long have you had them?” Dean asks with a casual air that’s one-hundred percent, Grade-A bullshit. 

Cas presses his lips together as he thinks. “Since you took me to that brothel.”

Dean chokes on his drink. “Seriously?”

Cas ducks his head, a surprisingly human gesture of embarrassment. “I didn’t know it then,” he says in a low voice, “all I knew was that I wanted to impress you. I had never felt that way about anyone before, except God.”

“Gross, man.”

Cas purses his lips. “Not like that.” He sighs. “But I suppose it happened the year I made that deal with Crowley.” He reaches for his own beer bottle, long emptied sometime in the middle of dinner. He spins it between his fingers contemplatively. “I told myself I made the deal to make the world safer for you, so you could live out your retirement in peace. But it was just a convenient ploy to keep myself busy. You didn’t need me for the first time since Hell.” He presses his lips together. “My love for you made me reckless and blind, as approximately 231,600 love songs could have told me, if I had bothered to listen to any of them.”

Dean chuckles. “It probably would have been better if you just had an emo phase.” At Cas’s frown of confusion, Dean waves it off, “Forget it. It’s water under the bridge anyway.” He sips his beer. “Since the Purgatory deal? That’s a long time.”

“Not for an angel,” Cas counters. “I’m extremely old.”

Dean snorts a laugh. “Touché.”

“You’re not going to ask why I never told you before?”

Dean shakes his head. “You made that pretty clear in your little goodbye speech. ‘The one thing I want, is something I know I can’t have’,” he rattles off the phrase that had been bouncing around his skull for the past month and a half.

Cas bites his lip, a shade of hurt lurking behind his eyes at hearing his words parroted back to him. “I had always known my feelings were fruitless. Telling you was more of an act for myself than for you,” he says to the table, “but I didn’t think I would be around to know what that meant for us.”

“I get that,” Dean says haltingly, “but they’re not.”

“They’re not what?”

Dean forcibly lets go of his empty beer bottle because he’s going to shatter it if he says this next bit with glass between his hands. “Your feelings. They’re not fruitless. They’re, uh, pretty fucking fruity.”

Cas’s mouth opens and closes, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Is that a dated and offensive reference to homosexuality?”

“What?” Dean yelps, “No!”

Cas sits there, nonplussed.

“Your feelings,” Dean says through gritted teeth. “What you want. You can have it.”

Cas makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” Dean mutters. “Even with all of history crammed in your noggin, you don’t get it. Fine.” He shifts in his seat so he can face Cas fully. “Let me clear things up for you. Just… smite me if I cross a line.”

“Dean,” Cas protests, “As the Empty, I can’t smite any-”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss.

As far as first kisses go, it’s passable. Cas clearly has some experience - he doesn’t go straight for the tongue, but he’s frozen for so long, Dean almost pulls away to check if he drastically miscalculated. But Cas exhales, tentative hands wrap around Dean’s forearms, and he pulls Dean in closer. Dean smiles against his mouth, small puffs of laughter escaping as Cas’s nose bumps against his. He cups Cas’s jaw in one hand, and Cas lets out a little sigh, melting the last few layers of Dean’s reservations about this whole business.

It’s the promise in the kiss that makes it awesome. This isn’t their end. For once, the world isn’t on fire, and they’re not playing catch up with an apocalypse.

It’s just them, Death and the Empty.

The Endgame for every human, angel, and demon on Earth.

Suck it, Chuck. That’s fucking symmetry.

[five-rivers]

Exile

Prompt by @halfaqueen. My goodness, this took forever to write. I have no idea how it got so long.

.

.

.

Danny hadn't realized that exile was still a thing, but when he and Jazz had gotten expelled, and their parents had been banned or barred from basically all public places, and all of them had gotten restraining orders of one sort or another, and dozens of lawsuits had been filed against Fentonworks... Well... Officially, it wasn't exile, but that was what Amity Park was clearly aiming for with this harassment campaign.

He watched his city, his haunt, disappear over the horizon from the back window of the GAV. It was all he could do not to cry out aloud. Leaving like this felt like tearing part of himself away.

"Don't worry, Danno!" said Jack, leaning over the back seat. He wasn't driving, as he had lost his license early on in the city's war against them. "Just give it a few weeks! They'll be begging for us to come back, what with all the ghost that'll attack!"

This did not make Danny feel better.

"Jack," said Maddie, drawing out her husband's name. As clear as day, her tone said, Don't get their hopes up.

"You betcha! Because nobody can catch a ghost better than the Fentons, that's for sure!"

Jack Fenton hadn't ever been good at reading things as abstract as tones.

"They think they can stop the ghosts by closing the portal? Please! If it was as easy as that, we'd have closed it ages ago!"

Danny cringed, and sunk lower in his seat. No. None of that made Danny feel better.

Amity Park had hired other ghost hunters, blatantly replacing the Fentons, but Danny didn't know how good they were. He didn't know how good he should hope they were, either. On one hand, he wanted them to be bad, so that Amity Park would drop the restraining orders and he could go home. On the other, he wanted them to be good, so that Amity Park would be safe, so that everyone would be safe and no one would be hurt. But, then, if they were good, and everything was fine, that meant that Amity Park didn't need him any more, that he wasn't helpful, and, even though it was selfish, part of him wanted to be needed.

But, worse, what if they were good enough to defeat the more common ghosts, but then someone powerful come through, someone big, and they couldn't handle it? What if the new hunters worked for the GIW and would send the ghosts they caught off to be experimented on?

Danny had warned away as many ghosts as he could about what was happening before they left, but it didn't seem to be enough. And what if that warning got to someone who would see it as an invitation? As an opportunity to strike, now that he, Phantom, was gone.

He'd been so worried, stressed, and paranoid that he'd made himself sick. He was probably going to make himself sick again before the day was out.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he mumbled.

"Didn't we tell you?" asked Maddie. Danny shrugged. "We're visiting some relatives of Jack's. They have an interest in the supernatural, and they offered to let us stay with them while we look for a more permanent solution."

"Yep!" said Jack. "My favorite cousin, Cory! She's not quite a ghost hunter, but she has that Fenton blood for sure!"

"Cordelia Nightingale," said Maddie. "I don't think that her branch of the family has been Fentons since the sixteen-hundreds."

Danny swallowed. He was not a fan of the name 'Nightingale,' all things considered. It reminded him too much of pain and Sam pushed up against a wooden stake.

He decided this, on top of everything else, was a bad omen. He bet that 'cousin Cordelia' was going to turn out to be a ghost or, somehow, something worse. Like a witch. Or she had something like Freakshows staff. Or she grew blood blossoms for fun. Or she was part of a cult.

Ugh, why did that sound like something that might happen? What was his life?

Half gone, that's what.

Jazz patted him on the knee. "Maybe it'll be nice?" she said, hopefully.

"Maybe," said Danny.

He didn't have high hopes.

.

Sam probably would have liked the house. Danny didn't. The Gothic architecture only accentuated his fears. He frowned up at the spikes on the railing and the darkly painted boards. No. He didn't like this house at all.

He wanted to go home.

But, at his mother's prodding, he bent and picked up his suitcase. Most of his things were still at home and, if this lasted longer than a week, would then be put into a storage locker along with the rest of the family's belongings, to await a time when they once again had a house of their own to live in.

Jack bounced up the steps and pressed the doorbell with his thumb. Almost at once, a thin woman with graying brown hair opened the door. She wore a black turtleneck and a dark, straight skirt that ended at her ankles. Somehow, she made the outfit look practically Victorian.

"Cory!" exclaimed Jack, giving her a trademark Jack Fenton hug.

Both Jazz and Danny cringed slightly. That felt a bit too familiar for someone who he hadn't seen for literally their entire lives. Danny just hoped this wouldn't be Vlad all over again.

But, to his surprise, Cordelia gave Jack a thin smile and hugged him back. She extracted herself and stepped away from the door, into the house.

"Please," she said, "come in. You must all be tired. Amity Park is hours away."

One by one, the Fentons passed through the door, Danny bringing up the suspicious and paranoid rear.

"You must be Jasmine and Daniel," said Cordelia, closing the door. It wasn't quite dark inside the house, but it did feel rather dim. It smelled sweet, but dusty. Like flowers. Old, dry flowers.

"Jazz and Danny, please, Ms. Nightingale," said Jazz.

"Call me Cordelia. We're family, after all."

Was that ominous, or was Danny just paranoid? Well, it wasn't paranoia if people really were out to get you, right?

His breath went cold in his mouth, and something moved out of the corner of his eye. He whirled, trying to trace it.

He couldn't see anything. His ghost sense hadn't gone off.

"Danny?" said Maddie. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably my cat," said Cordelia, calmly. "She's a shy little thing, but curious. Don't be surprised if you don't see her again."

"Right," said Danny, doubtful, but not wanting to press the point.

"Now, I've cleaned out rooms for you upstairs," she gestured, and began to lead the way.

Danny started to follow, but another shadow moved at the edge of his sight, this one distinctly humanoid. He turned again, trying to find what cast it. There was nothing. He hurried to catch up with the others.

"Do you live here all alone?" he asked as they climbed the stairs.

"Oh, no," said Cordelia. "This place is much too large for one person. I let out rooms to some nice young ladies who work in town. None of them are here right now, of course, but I'll introduce all of you at dinner."

Well, there went that theory. He glanced back down the stairs. There was definitely a chill in this house.

"You didn't have to give us this much space," said Maddie, snapping Danny's attention back to the conversation. "We should pay you."

"Nonsense. You're family, and those rooms weren't being used anyway. Here, this one has a king mattress, so you two will want this one, even if it is a bit tight, and Daniel, Jasmine, you two take the ones on either side."

Danny and Jazz shared a look. It was a lot easier for Jazz to cover for Danny, or for Danny to sneak into her room for help, when they were next to each other. But there was nothing to be done. They shrugged.

It didn't matter who took which room. Jazz went left. Danny went right.

The room was a lot like the rest of the house. Old-fashioned and dark. It was also meticulously clean and decorated like something out of an old movie. It looked like a set piece. It really did.

Then again, Cordelia did say she had just cleaned the rooms. It wasn't anything to get nervous about, even if it did make Danny feel like he was the main character in a horror film.

He put down his suitcase.

"The bathroom is just down at the end of the hall. The schedule is posted next to it, make sure you write down when you want to shower, so you don't disrupt anyone," said Cordelia, still talking to Jack and Maddie in the hall. "The kitchen is downstairs and in the back. If you take the last of something from the refrigerator, write it down on the shopping list. Otherwise, go ahead and make yourselves at home. Freshen up, take a nap. Dinner is at six."

"Do you want any help with that?" asked Maddie. "You're cooking for an awful lot of people."

"No, no, I'm more than used to it."

"Alright. Did you catch all that, kids?"

"Yes," said Jazz.

"Yeah," said Danny. He wanted to look for whatever was giving him this chill. He didn't like the idea of something supernatural sneaking up on him or his family while he slept.

.

He couldn't find it, and it was driving him crazy.

There was something in this house, even if Danny couldn't see it as anything but a shadow in his peripheral vision. Jazz couldn't see it at all, but she believed him after that whole thing with Youngblood.

Even if they couldn't find the thing, however, they found lots of other... things. Creepy things. Dead-eyed porcelain dolls. Dusty portraits. Bundles of dried herbs. Weird sculpture things. Light fixtures that should have been updated before Danny was born. A stuffed cat. A closet full of brooms.

"You know what I haven't seen?" asked Danny, as it turned five o'clock.

"No," said Jazz. "What? Ghosts?"

"A litter box," said Danny.

"That doesn't really mean anything," said Jazz. "It could be in one of the bedrooms, or there's a cat door and the cat goes outside."

"Maybe," said Danny. "Let's check out the yard."

This far from the nearest town, the yard was big and cut into a forest that loomed darkly over them even in the bright sunlight. The yard itself was full of flowering plants, but...

"I think these are all poisonous," he said. "At least, a lot of them are."

"Isn't that normal for decorative plants?" asked Jazz. "They weren't bred to eat."

"Yeah, I guess," said Danny, frowning. "But would you necessarily want a cat out here with all this?"

"Cats are carnivores. They wouldn't eat the plants. Can you see the neighbors?"

"No. Too many trees."

"How far away are we, I wonder?"

"It can't be that far," said Danny. "Not if her boarders commute to town."

"That's true. We're not in the wilderness." Jazz scanned up and down the height of the trees. "Not really."

"Maybe a little bit," said Danny. He could imagine some of those trees being hundreds of years old. The ground might not have been untrod by human feet, but... "Does everything here just sort of feel... off? Or is that just me?"

"I don't know," said Jazz.

Gravel crunched in the driveway, audible even from the other side of the house. Jazz and Danny walked to the corner of the house so that they could see around the corner and watch what was happening.

A small white car was pulling into the driveway. It stopped next to the GAV. As they watched, three young women stepped out. One of them had long, dark hair and wore a red sweater and skirt, reminiscent of Cordelia's. The second had pale blond, almost white, hair and wore a deep brown shirt and skirt. The third had red hair, and wore white. All of them had wicked looking boots and matching leather purses.

"Okay," whispered Jazz, pulling Danny back around the corner. "I... Maybe they just like to match?"

"I hate this so much," said Danny. "I want to go home."

"Maybe whatever is going on here is friendly?"

"We are literally never that lucky," said Danny. "I hope it's just a ghost. I can deal with ghosts. It's probably a ghost."

"Really?"

"No. Let's go in. We're going to have to meet them eventually."

.

"This is Sofia," said Cordelia, indicating the dark haired woman. "This is Alison." She put her hand on the blonde's shoulder. "And this is Morgan." She nodded at the redhead. "Girls, these are my cousins, Jack, Maddie, Jazz, and Danny."

Three sets of eyes moved sequentially from Jack, to Maddie, to Jazz, to Danny. They stayed on Danny.

"It's nice to meet you," said Sofia, still looking at Danny.

He tried to hide his discomfort. Could they tell he was half-ghost? He hoped not. That was his trump card if everything turned out as badly as he feared and he had to get his family out in a hurry.

What he wouldn't give for a piece of concrete evidence right now. Without it, his parents would never listen to him. They hadn't with Vlad.

They were still looking at him. Jazz slipped in front of him.

"So!" she said, brightly. "Dinner?"

Danny pushed back in front of Jazz. "Yeah! It's six, right?"

"Well, it sounds like the kids have inherited that good old Fenton appetite! Huh, Cory?" added Jack

"Yes, yes, come along. Girls, why don't you go ahead and get the table started. No, Maddie, the girls know how I like it, I'll show you later. You just sit down and relax." Cordelia disappeared into the kitchen.

The three younger women moved smoothly around the room, pulling plates and silverware- real silver silverware- from a china cabinet. They set the long table in the middle of the room with rigorous formality. There were more kinds of forks at each place setting than Danny had seen even when having dinner at Sam's. They topped it off with two candelabras.

Cordelia emerged with a casserole dish. Whatever was in it was thick, roughly cylindrical, and covered with a thick red sauce.

"Wow! Is that a roast?" asked Jack.

"Yes," said Cordelia. "I always make this when new guests arrive. The girls have all had it."

The 'girls' nodded as one, and retreated to the opposite side of the table. They almost moved in sync with one another.

Cordelia put the roast on the table, and went back to get side dishes. This gave the three women more time to stare at Danny.

On occasion, Danny did want attention, acknowledgement, what have you, but this scrutiny would have been a bit much even when he was at the height of his 'look at me' phase. He kept a tight hold on his core to keep himself from flickering invisible.

Cordelia came back with two serving dishes full of green... things. Possibly vegetables, but Danny didn't recognize them. She then started to, with excruciating slowness, carve the roast.

The slow exposure of the meat under all that sauce was enough to make Danny vaguely ill. It was too... wet. Too vibrant and too gray all at once. He swallowed against the smell.

"Wow!" said Jack, as Cordelia dropped a slab of meat on his plate. "This looks great, Cory! What kind of meat is it?" He was already sawing away at the flesh. It was all Danny could do to keep himself from slapping it away from him.

"Beef," said Cordelia, smiling at him as she carved. "Locally grown and harvested. It's an old family recipe, from before our branches split and we were all Nightingales."

"You mean Fentons!" said Jack around a mouthful of meat.

Cordelia's smile turned brittle. "However you would like to put it, Jack." She went around the table, serving herself last.

Danny made no move to pick up his utensils. The women on the other side of the table ate while watching him, barely looking at their food. Jazz was the only one who seemed to notice, and when Danny caught her eye and shook his head, she put down the bite of meat she had picked up, turning her focus to the vegetables.

"So," Jazz said, "what do you three do?"

Sofia's eyes flicked briefly to Jazz. "Graphic design," she said.

"That must be interesting."

"It's a job."

Danny didn't eat that night.

.

"I have some granola bars," said Jazz, grabbing his arm before he entered his guest room. Not that he intended to sleep there. Or anywhere.

"You keep them," he said. "I'm fine. You didn't eat much, either."

"You didn't eat anything," said Jazz.

"I'll be okay." Danny flared his eyes. "I've got an extra reserve, remember?"

"If you say so," said Jazz. She was frowning. "Danny... Let's share a room tonight."

"What?"

"I don't like how those three were looking at you," she said. "I can't believe Mom and Dad didn't notice..."

"They don't notice anything," said Danny. He pulled Jazz into the dubious safety of his room. He didn't want to have this conversation out in the hallway. "Wait," he said, eyes flicking over the room. "Where's my suitcase?"

Jazz shrugged. "Kind of reminds me," she said, not quite whispering. "I was thinking about barricading the door."

Danny hissed through his teeth. "I put my thermos up here when we went to eat. It's gone, too."

"If this were a horror movie, this would be when we yelled at the screen for the characters to leave."

"Think we can convince Mom and Dad?"

"Maybe together?"

Danny shrugged. "Let's give it a try."

They left the bedroom, and knocked on their parents' door. There was no answer.

Jazz frowned. "Maybe they have their earplugs in already," she said. "Can you, you know." She made a gesture where her arms crossed each other.

"Let's see," he said, going back to the bedroom. He waited until Jazz shut the door to turn invisible and phase through the wall.

Passing through the wall felt... odd. Like walking through layers of cobwebs. He shook his head as if to clear it and surveyed the room. Jack and Maddie were already in bed. He made a face and stepped back into the other room, becoming visible and tangible for Jazz.

"They're asleep," he said, shaking his head.

"First thing tomorrow morning, then," Jazz said, wringing her hands. "Maybe- Do you think we should sleep in the GAV? Put up the ghost shield?"

"I'm not even sure that this is a ghost," said Danny. He walked around the bed, part of him still looking for his missing suitcase. "But you have a point, I just..." He glanced at the wall his room shared with his parents'. If he and Jazz slept in the GAV, Jazz would be very safe, but their parents would be vulnerable. If he stayed here, and Jazz slept in the GAV, she'd be safer than sleeping alone in the house, and his parents would be safer, but if something happened to her, he wouldn't be able to react to it, he wouldn't be able to protect her. "I don't know."

"Let's at least go down and look. Maybe you left your suitcase in there, after all?"

"I don't think so," said Danny.

"We can get the weapons locker."

Danny blinked. "I almost forgot about that. Yeah. Let's go."

They were halfway down the stairs when Jazz grabbed his shoulder. "What?" whispered Danny.

"I can't hear anything."

"Huh?"

"This house is old. These stairs creaked when we were walking on it before. Why isn't it now?"

Danny bit his lip. "Let's keep going." He put his hand on Jazz's and made them both invisible.

"I can't see my feet," said Jazz.

"Just be careful," said Danny, continuing down the stairs. "I'm going to phase us through the front door, okay?"

"Fine."

It was still twilight when they stepped outside, the first stars just beginning to show. It wasn't hard for them to navigate, slipping around the white car, but when they did, and finally got a good look at the GAV, they froze.

Jazz said something very un-Jazz-like. Danny let his invisibility fade.

"What happened?" asked Jazz, in shock.

"It looks like someone beat it with a crowbar," said Danny, almost reverently, touching the crumpled metal. "A really big, really fast crowbar."

"Danny, this glass is supposed to be bulletproof."

"And ghost-proof," agreed Danny. "Let's go barricade your room. Think it can get through a dresser?"

.

The thing about being under high levels of stress for long periods of time was that it was tiring. Exhausting, even. So, even though Danny didn't intend to sleep, he did.

He woke up unable to move, something heavy weighing down his chest. His eyes fluttered open. Something huge and dark, the shadow he'd only glimpsed before, loomed over him, pressed down on him. He could see Jazz's bright hair hanging off of the bed above him. He tried to call out, to warn her, to get her to run, but he couldn't speak.

He couldn't breathe-

.

When his eyes opened again, light was weakly streaming through the thick glass of the windows, making the dust in the room sparkle gold. He sat straight up, breathing hard. He was still in Jazz's room, the dresser pulled across the doorway. Why do that and then leave him here? It didn't make sense.

"What's wrong?" asked Jazz, voice deep and crackled with sleep. She yawned.

Danny told her.

"That sounds like sleep paralysis."

"Like what now?"

"Sleep paralysis," said Jazz. She yawned again. "Some people get it. They wake up, but they're still asleep and they can't move. And also they hallucinate."

"That sounds fake."

"You sound fake."

"You know what? That's fair. That's actually fair. This whole situation sounds fake, so why not add sleep paralysis to the whole thing? It's better than an actual literal demon." He took a deep breath. "What do we do now?"

Jazz licked her lips and ran a hand through her hair.

"We tell them that the GAV has been trashed, that those women were staring at you like they wanted to eat you all dinner, and that your clothes were stolen. And then I'll spell it out for them, if I have to."

"What, that this place is probably haunted or possessed and Dad's cousin is a witch?"

"No," said Jazz, making a face. "That'll probably only make them want to stay even more. That those three are probably pedophiles who stole your clothing and wrecked the GAV so we couldn't leave, and that neither of us felt safe sleeping alone. Sorry. Then we'll make them call a cab."

"No, no, that's fine. That's a better explanation than I could come up with. Let's do that. I would honestly rather stay at Vlad's than here."

"Yeah," Jazz dragged her hand through her hair again, and grimaced. "Let me get dressed, first. Do you see my brush over there?"

"No," said Danny.

Jazz looked around the room. "Actually... Where is my suitcase?"

"It was-" Danny stopped. "It was in that corner when we came in, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," said Jazz. "Okay, forget getting dressed. We're talking to Mom and Dad now." She swung out of bed and made her way to the door.

Danny phased through her, so he would reach the dresser first and easily pushed it out of the way. He stuck his head out the door, looking both ways for Cordelia and the borders.

The door to the room next to Jazz's, their parent's room, was open.

"Shoot," said Danny. He walked over. "They're not here."

"Downstairs? Maybe they went to get breakfast." Jazz emerged from the room crossing her arms over her chest.

"Maybe," said Danny. He had a bad feeling about this.

Cautiously, they made their way down the stairs and peered into the kitchen. No one was there.

"Hello, children," said Cordelia, directly behind them.

They jumped, both trying to get away and spin at the same time. Jazz clipped her elbow on the doorway and almost fell. Danny caught her and pulled her back up.

"If you are looking for your parents, you just missed them."

"What do you mean?" asked Jazz, a little more sharply than she usually would.

"I mean, they just left," said Cordelia mildly. "They took that vehicle of yours to town to go shopping. Something about not eating me out of my house. It was very kind of them."

"But the GAV was wrecked..." said Jazz, even as Danny gave a tug on her arm.

"Was it?" asked Cordelia, smiling. "It seemed fine when they left. You should get dressed, though, Jasmine, and, Daniel, are those the clothes you were wearing yesterday?"

"Our clothes are gone," said Jazz.

"You left them in your car? Well, no wonder you're looking for your parents. I think I might have some old clothes that will fit you. Come along, now." She turned.

Possibilities tumbled through Danny's head. A large part of him wanted to just grab Jazz and fly away to find their parents in town, but he estimated that there was a pretty good chance that they weren't in town, but trapped here somewhere. Jazz had apparently made that same calculation, because she was giving him the 'don't you dare use your powers' head shake.

Fine. Okay. Play along it was, then.

Cordelia lead them into a dusty ground floor room full of chests. She opened one, knocking free a number of cobwebs. "These are a little old fashioned, I'm afraid, Daniel, but it has been a while since a boy your age lived here." She handed him a small, neat stack of clothing. "And these are for you, Jasmine. I wore them when I was about your age. I grew a few inches, after that."

"Right," said Jazz, already backing away. "We'll just go... change... then. Right Danny?"

"Yeah," said Danny.

Jazz didn't speak to him until they were back upstairs. "What now?"

"Now," said Danny, "I go ghost and see if Mom and Dad are trapped in a dungeon under the house or something. If not, I take you and get the heck out of here. If they are, I rescue them, we get the heck out of here. We'll steal Cordelia's car or something."

"Not much of a plan."

"Don't kid yourself. We never have a plan. Do you want to get dressed, first, or...?"

"Pass."

"I'll have to bring you with me. I don't want to leave you alone up here while I'm searching," warned Danny.

"I know. I don't want to be alone here, either."

Danny took a breath and-

Did not go ghost. He doubled over, gasping for breath, transformation rings flickering to nothing around him as the shadows pressed inward, suffocating him. The huge fingers around his chest- The almost-human silhouette-

"Danny?" asked Jazz, alarmed, shaking his shoulder. "What's wrong? What's happening?"

"Not," wheezed Danny, "sleep paralysis."

The shadows crept up over his eyes and everything went dark.

.

When he woke up, he was wearing different clothes. Very different clothes. They were all white and loose. He wasn't sure if he should call them robes, but they had that kind of feeling. His shoes were gone. He was in his guest room, on the bed. Jazz was nowhere to be seen.

Danny should have taken his family and run as soon as he saw that not-ghost shadow. He swallowed, shaking, and clenched his fists. It was still here, watching him. He could feel it, even if he couldn't see it.

Okay. First step, get out of here.

He swung his feet off the bed. As soon as they touched the floor, something twined around his ankle and rapidly climbed up his leg. He gasped and yanked himself back, trying to free his knee from the shadow twisted around it. It held fast, firmly squeezing his thigh.

Danny growled. This wasn't the first shadow he had fought. He gathered ectoplasm in his hand and poured energy into it until it burned brighter than magnesium. The shadow retreated, and Danny scrambled to stand on the middle of the bed, ectoblast still in his fist.

"Now, now, no need for any of that."

Cordelia stood in the doorway, not the least bit surprised to see Danny wielding supernatural powers.

"Where's my family?" demanded Danny.

"Safe," said Cordelia, neutrally, "and they will continue to remain so."

Danny shifted, and the bed springs squealed. "What do you want?" he asked.

"My heritage. Come along. I will explain as we go." She turned in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. "Our shadow will not trouble you, should you follow now."

Danny clenched his jaw at the threat but gingerly climbed down from the bed and followed Cordelia across the frigid floor.

"Our last common ancestor was Elizabeth Nightingale," said Cordelia. "She was married to James Fenton. They had two children, John Fenton-Nightingale and Mary Fenton-Nightingale." She paused. "Elizabeth was knowledgeable in what would have been called witchcraft, and she was very, very good at it."

They climbed down the stairs to the first floor. All of the lights were off.

"But, as these things happen, she died. A mistake with a summoning." Cordelia turned into a long hallway Danny had missed in his earlier explorations of the house. "John and Mary were divided on how to handle her legacy. John," the name was said with anger, "decided that Elizabeth's craft, her knowledge, was evil, and decided to destroy it. He burned generations of Nightingale knowledge in a single night. When Mary tried to stop him, to salvage her mother's legacy, he tried to burn her, too. He denounced her as a witch."

"I'm sorry about that," said Danny. "I really am." After all, he knew exactly what that felt like. "But I don't see what that has to do with us. That was hundreds of years ago. A bit late for revenge, don't you think?" A sufficiently disturbed ghost wouldn't, but Cordelia was, as far as Danny could tell, human.

"This isn't about revenge," said Cordelia. "Besides, it has everything to do with you. Of the two of us, you are the one who met the man, Phantom."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's no need for you to play coy with me, young man," said Cordelia. "Why else do you think I put so much time and effort into getting you here? The magics to turn your town against your parents weren't child's play, after all." She bent and seized the corner of a rug, pulling it up and back to reveal a trap door. "Neither was calling the shadow to keep you bound." She lifted the ring handle on the trap door, pulling it open. "After you."

Danny stared down the dark hole below. There was a metal ladder, but he couldn't tell where it ended. A very faint light from somewhere to the right reflected off of some of the rungs.

"Is this where you reveal you're a cannibal?" asked Danny, unimpressed. "Is that what horror movie this is?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Hardly. Although you and Jasmine refusing to eat with us last night made everything harder than it had to be."

That definitely wasn't Danny's stomach growling at the reminder that he hadn't eaten since lunchtime yesterday. "Drugged, was it?"

They stared at each other over the trap door.

"If you refuse to cooperate, we can always use Jack. Or Jasmine."

Danny's lips twitched as he held back a snarl. "Fine," he snapped, angrily climbing down, into the hole.

It turned out that the ladder wasn't terribly long after all. It descended into a basement of normal height.

That was, however, the only normal thing about the space. Far from simply being unfinished, the floor of the basement seemed to be stone. So were what little he could see of the walls. It was like the basement had been carved from one huge piece of bedrock, but that couldn't be possible. Danny didn't know, well, anything about geology, but he was pretty sure houses usually weren't built on stuff like this.

To the right, there was a small table with a single burning candle on it and two chairs, one on each side. Beyond that, Danny could make out a circle on the ground marked with chalk.

The cold feeling that had been plaguing Danny since yesterday was a hundred times stronger in this room. His core was alert, but the relief that his ghost sense usually brought just never came.

The strain was beginning to ache.

"Sit down," said Cordelia, indicating the chair closest to the chalk circle.

Danny complied, tense, and Cordelia moved the candle to one side, taking out a book and setting it on the table. The book was old and singed, the edges of the leather cover and several of the pages burnt and curled. Cordelia stroked it, reverently.

"This is all that Mary managed to salvage from the flames," she said. "Just this one book, out of so many. All that knowledge lost. Elizabeth was the last one to have it."

Danny heard movement in the dark corners of the room and turned his head to Sofia, Alison, and Morgan emerging, all of them in robes similar to his own, but in their own colors. They came close, and grabbed the back and arms of his chair.

"You asked me what I wanted. I want Elizabeth Nightingale."

A surprised laugh, almost a scoff, forced its way between Danny's lips. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't exactly have her in my back pocket. Do these pants even have pockets?"

"You might not have her," said Cordelia, annoyance creeping into her otherwise level tone, "but you can get her. Bring her back from beyond."

"Uh, not sure what's in your book, but, contrary to popular belief, not all dead people know each other. She might not even be a ghost. She might have moved on."

"She hasn't," said Cordelia, almost smiling. "Not with the summoning she was doing. We are going to send you to her, and you are going to bring her back." She tilted her head to one side. "We could do this with any blood relative. The original plan was to use Jack, but your condition makes you so much more open to this kind of thing. Your chances of success are much higher."

Danny crossed his arms. "And if I don't succeed, you'll make Dad and Jazz try."

"That's right."

"Why don't you do it?" asked Danny. "You're a blood relative, aren't you?"

"Sadly, the ritual requires four people."

"Yeah, that's the only reason, huh?" said Danny, because he liked to antagonize people he couldn't strike back against in other ways, and also because he was an idiot.

"As I said, we can always use one of the others if you do not cooperate."

"And you'll let us all go if I do?"

"If you bring back Elizabeth, yes."

"Fine," said Danny. "What do I need to do?"

"Very little," said Cordelia. "Give me your hand. Your right hand."

Reluctantly, Danny held out his hand. Cordelia took it and wrapped a thin, white cord around it.

"That will lead you to her."

"I thought you were sending me to her," said Danny.

"You won't be in exactly the same spot," said Cordelia.

Then she whipped a knife out from under the table and sliced deeply into Danny's hand. He pushed back, away, holding his bleeding hand close to his chest. The only reason the chair didn't tip back was because the other three witches were holding on to it.

"Go stand in the circle," ordered Cordelia.

In a fit of pique, Danny phased backwards through the three women holding the chair, not bothering to wait for them to move away to let him go. The shadow pushed uncomfortably against his shoulders, but did not otherwise protest.

The circle was simple, no runes or symbols, just a single line of white chalk on the dark stone. Danny stared at it for a long moment, before stepping over it and standing at the center, his elbow dripping blood as it ran down his arm from his hand.

"Alright, girls, you know what we need to do," said Cordelia.

.

Danny stood in a field of washed-out red grass. Overhead, the sky billowed with rolling, boiling gray clouds. They seemed too close. The air smelled of smoke. The horizon was blurred and warped, as if Danny were looking at it through thick, wavy glass, or as if in a dream.

This wasn't the Ghost Zone.

He took a deep breath, the smoke washing through him. Okay. He was here. Now he needed to find Elizabeth Nightingale.

He looked down at his hand. The white cord had been turned red with his blood, and it had grown longer, reaching back over his shoulder.

"Eat your hear out, Ariadne," muttered Danny. He looked over his shoulder.

A forest was on fire.

The tall, straight, slender trees burned from their tops, like candles. Their trunks were bare, entirely free of leaves, needles, or branches. Danny should have felt the heat, even at this distance. He didn't.

The bloody cord led between the trees.

"Right," muttered Danny, "because nothing can be easy."

Resigned, he started walking towards the trees and discovered that the 'grass' on the ground actually consisted of thin-walled ceramic-like tubes. Fragile ceramic tubes. The ones he stepped on shattered and cut into his bare feet. He hissed, resisting the urge to hop around and get even more shards stuck into him. The bottoms of his feet felt wet and hot. He tried to phase the shards out and couldn't.

"Is this hell?" asked Danny, aloud. "This has to be hell. Ancients."

He couldn't feel the shadow near him anymore, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. Despite the 'grass,' he hesitated to try and go ghost to fly over it. He didn't want to pass out onto the tubes and break them even more. He didn't want those shards in his face or hands.

The squelching of his blood as he shifted his weight decided it for him. He couldn't walk over all of this.

He sent one last look around him for the shadow and summoned his rings. He was relieved when they flowed smoothly over him, transforming him into a ghost, into Phantom.

His normal hazmat suit did not appear, however. Instead, the white robes he had been dressed in turned black. Danny frowned at this. He was not a fan. He wanted his hazmat back.

Whatever. There were more important things to focus on. For example, both his blood and the cord had turned a lurid, ectoplasmic green. Much easier to see against the red-hued backdrop of this world.

He lifted up off the ground and flew on, occasionally pausing to pull shards out of his feet. His accelerated healing made the wounds scab over quickly. The cut on his hand, however, continued to bleed freely. This was beginning to concern him. He didn't have an infinite supply of blood. Or ectoplasm. Whatever.

As he approached the burning forest, he expected to start feeling heat, but even when he was right at the treeline, hovering midway up the impossibly tall, thin tree trunks, he couldn't feel anything. It wasn't hot. It wasn't cold. The smoke didn't smell any stronger.

Even so, he knew fire didn't have to be hot to burn. Fire was a chemical reaction, and Danny had no intention of being one of the reactants.

That was, if this place obeyed anything like normal physical laws. Since the trees hadn't actually burned down at all, the fire staying at the same height, he had to conclude that they didn't.

Still. He was going to stay away from the fire. Briefly, he considered flying over the forest, but the cord angled ever so slightly down, and he didn't know how the cord would fare trailing through the fire. Nothing the witches had said made him think it was indestructible.

He flew under the fires. It was bright underneath the trees, in a sort of inverse of a real forest. Bright, dry, and somehow brittle. Danny flew cautiously. This might nor be the Ghost Zone, but he didn't trust it not to have carnivorous landscape features, and even Earthly forests had their dangers. Lions and tigers and bears.

Oh my.

The angle on the cord began to point down more sharply. Danny was getting closer. The forest was also becoming stranger. The tree trunks bled, and glowing eight-legged flies licked at the ichor. Flowers of sickly fire bloomed from the ground in intricate geometric patterns.

Then, amid the burning brightness, Danny saw a house. A big house. A castle, even, its sides built into the burning trees, its pennants alight with flame, smaller fires moving, no, patrolling the battlements.

Danny quickly went invisible. He had a horrible suspicion that Elizabeth would be in the dungeons of that castle. The cord was going to make him hilariously easy to see, not to mention that he was still dripping blood. This was going to suck so much.

But as Danny approached, the fire creatures did not appear to have noticed the cord at all. Some of them even passed through it without slowing down.

Okay. So, as shocking as it was, Danny had actually caught a break.

Slowly, relying on the fire creatures to open the doors, Danny made his way through the castle and down. Down. Down.

The walls down here glowed, as if with heat, but it was a dull, old, tired glow. A rosy cherry color that burned Danny's eyes and made his head pound. Doors in the walls were made of wood that burned from the inside, veins of embers streaking their surface. The bars set in them glowed white-orange.

The green cord snaked across the floor and wove in between the bars of one of these doors.

Danny stopped. He was quite sure Elizabeth was behind that door. But...

Was freeing her the right thing to do? He had gotten the impression that she was dangerous. At least as dangerous as those witches. Even to save his family, should he set someone like that loose on the world?

But Danny had made this decision and all decisions like it the moment he died in the portal. That was the essence of an Obsession.

Besides. Elizabeth was family, too.

He held out his hands, letting frost form on his fingers and palms and pressed them against the door. Once again, he wondered why he couldn't feel any heat. He should. His ice should at least be registering the pressure, the power drain, of something trying to melt it. It didn't.

Ice spread over the door, extinguishing the light and making the metal creak. Feathery tendrils wound up the bars and encased the hinges. The wood began to fall into ash, as if the fire had been the only thing holding it together, and the bars clattered to the ground.

The inside of the cell was incandescent white. The only dark spot was a huddled, burnt black figure in the corner. The cord let straight to it.

Danny, very emphatically, did not want to go into that room. He hovered at the threshold.

"Elizabeth Nightingale?" he called, softly. If the falling bars hadn't alerted the fire creatures to his presence, he wasn't going to ruin that luck by speaking too loud. "Elizabeth?"

The figure abruptly lurched sideways and fell. Danny flinched. Bit by bit, the figure clawed their way towards the door, dragging itself onward.

Danny could hardly bring himself to watch. Part of him wanted to help. Part of him wanted to run far, far away and never come back.

But, at last, the ruined and horrible body made it to the threshold. It reached up with a claw-like hand and grasped Danny's ankle. He cringed at the feeling of the flaking burnt flesh, but didn't try to shake off the hand. He bent slightly, unsure if he should try to help the figure up.

"You," rasped the figure, ash falling from its jaw, "not from here."

"Um," said Danny. "No. I'm not."

The figure began to pull itself up. As it did so, it sort of began to piece itself back together. Danny had seen similar things before, with ghosts returning to their base form, healing, after an unusually devastating attack. Usually, though, it was slower and usually-

Danny abruptly pulled away. Usually ghosts who were doing that were draining his energy to do it. He glared.

"One of mine?" asked the figure, that was now decidedly feminine. It finally drew itself to its knees. Her knees. "One of my," she coughed, "grandchildren?"

"I'm a descendant of yours, I guess," said Danny, cautiously. He wasn't quite pressed up against the far wall, but he was close.

"You came for me," she said. Her voice was still too rough and dry for Danny to detect any emotion in it.

"I was sent," said Danny, flatly. "If I pick you up, are you going to start draining me again?"

She didn't respond for a long time. "No," she said, finally.

"Great," said Danny. "Let's go."

Elizabeth wasn't hard to carry. She wasn't much larger than Jazz, and he flew her around all the time. The problem was, he couldn't seem to extend his invisibility to her. Any power he sent to cover her was simply absorbed.

"Okay," he said, finally. "We'll just have to be fast, then." Mentally, he began to map out the path he would have to take, and how many doors he would have to blow down. It made for a discouraging picture.

"They can't harm you," croaked Elizabeth.

"What?"

"Pure soul. They can't harm you." She reached up to trace his chin and cheek with her still-charred fingers. "You don't feel the heat. You can't. You can't be harmed."

"Uh. Yeah. I don't think that's how it works. I stepped on some sharp stuff when I first got here, and, let me tell you, it hurt."

"The fires can't burn you. Sending you was clever." Elizabeth seemed to have exhausted herself at that; her hand fell back into her lap.

Right. Well. Whatever. The fires hadn't burnt him yet, but he had stayed well away from them. He was going to continue to do so.

He took a deep breath and flew out of the dungeons as quickly as he could. As expected, the fire creatures spotted him quickly, and they began to shout and shriek in a language Danny couldn't even begin to understand.

They also threw fireballs. And fire spears. And fire chains. Just, a lot of things made out of fire.

It was a good thing Danny had ice powers. Otherwise he would have had a hard time combating all this. A few fireballs passed far too close to his head for comfort. His ice also seemed to be unusually effective on doors.

Finally, Danny was able to get above ground, and, no longer constrained to follow the cord around his wrist, he escaped through a window. He spiraled up, almost high enough to hit the underside of the flames licking at the trees, and then dove away.

"So," he said, "what now?"

"You don't know?" Elizabeth looked a lot better now. Almost human.

"I wasn't given a whole lot of information when they coerced me into doing this. They just said to follow the cord to you, and I did that." Speaking of which, what had happened to the cord? It had just vanished, without Danny even noticing. "I was half-expecting to just get zapped back the moment I found you."

"Coerced?"

"They said they'd make my dad or my sister do this, if I didn't, and they can't fly."

"They're alive."

"Yeah."

There was something like a frown on Elizabeth's face. "They shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah. You don't have to tell me that." More shrieks were approaching from the direction of the castle. "They did this with one of your books. Please tell me you know how to get out of here."

Elizabeth licked her lips. Her tongue was pink. "We go out where you came in," she said.

Danny looked at the trees around him. He only knew where the castle was because of the noises coming from that direction. Otherwise, everything looked the same in every direction. He was pretty sure that even if he went back to the castle, he wouldn't be able to tell which direction he had approached it from, and after that...

They were screwed.

"Follow the blood," said Elizabeth.

It was better than nothing, Danny supposed. His green blood did stand out against the red, but he's been high in the air when he shed it. Following that trail was going to suck, and it still required going back to the castle and avoiding all the fire creatures.

Some of this must have shown on his face, because Elizabeth said, "Not like that, boy, look." She pointed to the small puddle of ectoplasm that had dripped from his hand while they had been talking.

Flowers and vines were growing from it. Ghostly green and blue flowers and vines. As he watched, the vines grew longer, the flowers opened wider.

"Oh," Danny said. "I guess that makes things easier."

.

Easier was, of course, a relative term. Was following the trail left by ghostly plants growing out of Danny's blood easier than stumbling blindly around the burning forest? Yes. Was it easy? No. No it was not. Especially not with the fire creatures hunting them through the trees and how far apart the blood spatters could be.

Still. Danny was able to follow the trail for an hour before the fire creatures caught up to him.

When they did, they seemed almost, confused. They didn't attack. It was like they were waiting for something.

Danny would have run, but he was worried that he'd lose the trail if he tried to do that, and he didn't think he'd be able to find it again. He and the fire creatures stared each other down. Every few seconds, one of them would make a noise and another would answer.

Rapidly, Danny was becoming surrounded. He would have to make his move soon. He really didn't want to lose the trail, but he didn't think he could win this fight.

Too many enemies. Too much fire. Maybe if he flew straight up, he-

The fire creatures attacked. Danny ducked, wove, and conjured shields of ice and ectoenergy, but there was a limit to what he could do against this many attackers, especially while carrying Elizabeth.

He saw a ball of fire coming that he couldn't dodge and instinctively twisted to spare Elizabeth.

It splashed against him harmlessly.

Everything stopped. The fire creatures froze, even their flames going still, as though they were videos that had been paused. One began to wail, and then they all fled, disappearing into the brightness of the forest.

"A pure soul," said Elizabeth again. She patted his shoulder. Her skin was a burnt red, now. Her eyes were as blue as his were when he was human. Her frown was deeper, more obvious. "It was clever to send you... but they shouldn't have."

"Sure," said Danny, a little surprised. He scanned the trees, trying to see if any of the fire creatures were waiting in ambush. Seeing none, he continued.

.

They reached the field of tubes, and Danny followed his blood trail back to where he had lacerated his feet.

"Now what," he said.

"Land," said Elizabeth.

Danny grimaced, remembering what had happened to his feet the last time he had tried to walk here. He landed carefully on what looked like the thickest part of the vine growing from his blood-

-and was abruptly back in the chalk circle in Cordelia's basement.

The shadow pounced on him. Unprepared, Danny dropped Elizabeth and fell. Pain sparkled along his limbs as the shadow pulled at his ghost form. It was too much. The lack of sleep, the hunger, the stress, the energy he had spent finding Elizabeth and bringing her back, the blood loss and pain from the wound in his hand, his inability to protect his family, and now this attack. He curled up, trying to protect his head and hand, and abandoned his ghost form.

"Stop this at once!"

"Grandmother, I-"

"Call off this shadow."

A beat. "Very well." The shadow stopped its assault, and Danny stumbled up and out of the circle, scuffing the lines beyond all recognition. Cordelia and Elizabeth were the only women standing. The boarders were all kneeling, faces hidden.

"Grandmother, many times great grandmother, I greet you. I am Cordelia, the last descendant of your daughter, Mary, and I have labored long to bring you back to this world, so that your works will not be lost."

Elizabeth, Danny noted, was standing very straight, her skin sunburn-pink in all but a few places, her arms crossed over the burnt rags of what might have once been a shirt. She did not look pleased.

"So my works won't be lost," repeated Elizabeth.

"Your son betrayed you," said Cordelia. "He burned all your books, all your magics. This is all that survived." Cordelia held up the singed book.

Elizabeth pressed her eyelids together briefly. "And so, you forced your cousin, a child, into that place after me, rather than coming on your own?"

"There was no choice-"

"There is always a choice," said Elizabeth, cutting her off with a sharp gesture. "Better that book should have burned as well, and I was imprisoned forever. You were lucky in my captors. Others would have delighted in taking a pure soul as an ornament for their court, even if they couldn't have harmed him."

"You can't mean that-"

"I do. Is it true you have imprisoned the other members of this boy's family?"

"He would never have agreed, otherwise. Please, this is all we have left of our heritage. We need you. This was all necessary. I beg of you, teach us."

Danny began to back away, to the ladder. Maybe if he got out fast enough, he could trap them in the basement and look for Jazz and his parents.

"Do you know how I wound up there? In that place?" asked Elizabeth. "I went too far, and I ignored the rules. What's your name?"

"Cordelia."

"Cordelia. Cordelia Nightingale-Fenton?"

"Just Nightingale."

"I begin to see," said Elizabeth.

Danny was almost to the ladder. Maybe he could tap into his ghost powers a little bit and float up, quietly.

"If you had come to get me yourself, if you had even asked him-" Elizabeth gestured to where Danny had been. Both women did a double-take, and then their eyes traced up to where Danny currently was.

"What are you doing?" hissed Cordelia. This was the first time Danny had seen her visibly angry.

"Stop," said Elizabeth, grabbing Cordelia's shoulder. "What is your name, boy?"

"It's Daniel Fenton," said Cordelia, when Danny didn't answer.

Elizabeth considered Danny for a moment. "Go to your family, Daniel. Whatever curses or enchantments Cordelia cast on them should be lifted. Including that hate curse." She ran her fingers down Cordelia's arm. "Why on earth did you cast that?" Her eyes flicked back up. "Expect to receive my correspondence, Daniel Fenton."

.

Danny found Jazz and his parents in the attic. Their luggage was there, too, and Danny and Jazz's missing clothing. Maddie's cell phone was going off. Danny ignored it. He started shaking them. Slowly, they came awake.

"Danny?" said Jazz. She scrubbed at her eyes. "Ugh, what's that sound?"

"Mom's phone is going off."

"What?" said Maddie, groggily. "My phone?" She fumbled at her pocket. "Yes, what is it? Yes, this is Doctor Fenton. What? Well," this last word was a bit snide. "It's about time. We'll be there before the end of the day." She snapped the phone closed. "Jack, sweetheart, wake up, we're going back home. All the charges against us have been dropped, and they want us to look into a ghost attack. Apparently, Phantom didn't show up. As we knew he wouldn't."

"Huh? Ghost? Where?"

"In Amity Park, Jack."

"In Amity Park! Alright!" said Jack, jumping to his feet, and grabbing most of the luggage. "I knew they wouldn't last two days without us! Let's go, kids!"

He ran down the stairs. Maddie took a moment to look around, pursing her lips. "How did we get up here?" she asked. She shook her head, dismissing the question. "Do either of you kids know where Cordelia is?"

"She went out," said Danny. "To town. She won't be back 'til later."

"We'll have to leave a note, then. You two should get dressed before we go, or you'll have to try and do it in the GAV bathroom."

"So what really happened?" asked Jazz, after Maddie went down the stairs.

"Long story," said Danny, throwing on a pair of jeans, "and we really do need to leave. Fast." He took his luggage and rushed down the stairs.

.

Danny watched Cordelia's house shrink in the rear-view mirror of the GAV, right up until it shimmered out of existence like a mirage. He clenched his teeth. He had seen worse.

He turned in his seat and put his hands in his pockets, intending to brood over what had happened, but his hand encountered a stiff piece of paper that had definitely, absolutely, not been there before. Well. Elizabeth had said to expect her correspondence.

He pulled a crisp white envelope out of his pocket. On the front, in spidery cursive, was his name. He turned it over. On the back flap was written the name Elizabeth NF.

She was family. Distantly. He put his thumb under the back flap, and began to open the letter.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

ONE HUNDRED EIGHT - ALIVE

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 2,200ish

Summary: Tony is found alive. Bailey’s body gives out. (Apologizes because Endgame is very gif heavy.)

About two and a half weeks later, Carol had left to go search for Tony, Peter, and Dr. Strange, to see if any of them had survived, since I had yet to see them in my visions. I hadn’t talked since the day Carol showed up, but I was moving around a bit more. Only around my room, but it was an improvement. Pepper basically lived in my room with me and when Steve wasn’t trying to put the pieces of the world back together, he was in there as well. I was laying in bed when the compound began rattling. I got up and went over to the windows to see a glowing dot underneath a ship. I noticed Steve, who had obviously recently shaved, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce, Nat, and Rocket exiting the compound and walk across the grass. I quickly rushed out behind them, making sure to go unnoticed. As the ship came closer, I realized that Carol was carrying the space ship. Literally carrying. I watched, frozen in my spot, as Pepper and Steve stepped in front of everyone as Carol set down the ship. Carol nodded to Cap as the stairs lowered, causing me to cry at the sight it revealed. 

He was extremely skinny and sickly looking and was being helped by a blue robotic looking lady. But it was definitely him. My father, Tony Stark, was alive. Barely. Steve quickly ran up when he noticed Tony was struggling to kept himself up as the blue lady helped him down.  

“I couldn’t stop him,” Tony grimly stated as he gripped onto Steve for support. 

“Neither could I,” Steve replied. 

“I lost the kid.” 

The kid. Peter. He was gone. My tears came much faster. The boy I felt was my brother turned to dust. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye.

“Tony, we lost.” 

“Is umm—“ 

“Oh my gosh!” Pepper exclaimed as she rushed up and wrapped her arms around him, the initial shock of seeing him finally wearing off. 

“Pep… It’s okay,” Tony reassured. 

They kissed each other’s cheeks and held each other close for a bit. Pepper then moved to his right and Steve took hold of his left and began to bring him towards the compound.

“Wher—“ Tony swallowed, looking at Pepper. “Where’s our daughter? Where’s Bailey?” Panic began to run through Tony. I could feel it.

“She’s in—“ Pepper started before I cut her off.

“Dad,” I sobbed. Everyone turned to me, no one had noticed me yet and were all shocked and happy to see me out of my room. “You’re alive.” 

I ran towards him and wrapped him up in my arms. His body was not the body I was used to wrapping my arms around, but it was still him. He was in my arms. Alive and safe. I cried into his chest.

“Oh honey,” he gently kissed my head. “I’m here. I’m right here, kid… I’m so sorry.”

“Bailey,” Bruce interrupted after a moment. “We need to get him inside.”

I nodded as I slowly let go and took Steve’s place at my father’s side. We got him into the Med-Bay where Bruce was quick to get started on helping Tony get his strength back. He was lying down in a hospital bed with Pepper and I sitting on one side, Bruce working on the other, and the others outside watching. As Bruce put an IV in Tony’s arm, I began to feel light headed. For some reason, moving so much made it harder for me to control all the overwhelming emotions that I was being bombarded with. I leaned forward, setting my head in my hands, and began rocking back and forth.

“Bailey,” Pepper quietly said as she set a hand on my back. She didn’t want Tony to hear and worry. “What can I do to help you?”

“Nothing,” I shook my head. “Just give me a minute…”

“You need to get some food in you. It will help. I can send one of the others—“

“Mom,” I called a bit louder. “I’m—“

“What’s going on?” Tony wondered, interrupting me, as he turned his head to face us.

“Nothing,” I insisted as I stood up. “I just need some fresh air.” I leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried out of the room, passed the crowd of heroes, and outside the doors to the courtyard. While making my way outside, I tried my hardest to keep my balance. My head started to spin and I was afraid that I was going to pass out in front of everyone. I began to realize that I needed to work harder at learning to work through and control my powers. I stood with my back to the door, one arm across my chest, and the other arm up, holding my head in its hand. 

“Pull yourself together, Bailey,” I whispered to myself. “He’s back. He’s alive… Things are going to work out… You can block it all out… Feel it all out…”

“Bailey?” Steve’s voice came from behind me. 

“Steve,” I practically whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut to try to gain control of what I was feeling.

“What is it?” He quickly made his way in front of me. “What’s wro— Bailey, your nose is bleeding!” I opened my eyes while putting my hand up to my nose. I looked down at my hand to see blood. Steve reached out to hold onto me.

“Don’t!” I exclaimed. “We don’t know what could happen.”

“We have to get you inside. Have Bruce look at you.”

“Okay,” I slowly nodded. I moved to turn around but became too dizzy and started to sway. “Steve, I—“ But I cut off as soon as I passed out and hit the ground.

“Bailey!” Steve shouted as he rushed to my side. He scooped me up in his arms and hurried inside. “Bruce! Anyone! I need help.” Rocket and Rhodey were the first to respond.

“What the hell happened to her?” Rocket asked. “And why is she bleeding?”

“We need to get her to Bruce,” Rhodey said, ushering Steve towards the room that Bruce was in with Tony and Pepper. As they were coming up to the room, Tony was the first to notice.

“Bailey!” He shouted, as loud as his tired voice would let him, from inside the room. Pepper quickly looked up and Bruce turned to look at Steve carrying unconscious me in his arms. Bruce rushed out of the room.

“Set her down here,” he directed as he pointed to the couch. “What happened?”

“I really don’t know,” Steve responded as he set me down. “I was just checking on her. She kept swaying and it seemed like she could have been in pain. I told her when she had started bleeding and I urged her to get inside, but she wouldn’t let me touch her. Then she just passed out.”

Bruce felt my pulse. “Her heart rate’s erratic. We need to get an IV in her now.”

“Already on it,” Nat said as she entered the room with the necessary medical supplies.

“Bruce?” Tony shouted from inside the room he was in. Pepper was doing her best to keep him in bed. “Somebody tell me what’s going on! That’s my kid you’re working on!”

Rhodey and Pepper shared a look. Rhodey nodded to her for comfort before Pepper repositioned Tony’s hand in hers and looked at the struggling man. She knew that he needed to know what I had been doing to myself.

“Tony,” she kindly said. “You should probably know what’s been going on with Bailey since you left.”

She then began to tell Tony about what had happened after he left with Peter on the space ship. That Bruce brought me back to the compound and that I had locked myself up. Pepper told him that I went to Wakanda with them to fight and that I had seen glimpses of what was happening to him. It really hurt him when he heard that I was seeing glimpses of what was happening to him on Titan as I was fighting. That I had to see that.

“After…” Pepper took a deep breath before she continued. “After the fight was over and people had disappeared, she began to feel the emotions of everyone who had survived.”

“Like everyone on the team? Everyone in the world?” Pepper didn’t answer and just sadly looked down at their intertwined hands. “How many people are we talking here Pep?”

“The universe.” Tony took a harsh breath in. “She couldn’t handle it. She passed out. She basically became catatonic for four days, until Carol showed up. Then she only moved around her room. Today’s the first time she’s been out of there since then.

“She hasn’t really been eating, has she?” 

Pepper shook her head. “Steve and I could coaxed her into taking little bites here and there.”

“Steve?”

“Hasn’t willingly left her side since they came back. I don’t know where they stand relationship wise though… I haven’t exactly been able to ask her.”

Tony’s jaw clenched. “And her powers?”

“From what we could tell, she’s been overpowered by them. It was all too much. The whole universe, at least who’s left, she could feel them all.”

While the two were talking, Bruce was working on me. Making sure my IV was giving me everything I had been lacking for the past 3 weeks. Steve and Rhodey were standing a few feet a way, arms crossed, watching Bruce carefully work on me. Nat was on the couch with me, cradling my head in her lap. 

“He’s home,” Rhodey said, breaking the silence. “That’s what did it.”

“Just like you said,” Nat responded.

“Between the lack of proper nutrition and, what I think is, the overwhelming emotions that she’s feeling, I’m surprised she’s still breathing,” Bruce informed everyone in the room. “Physically, though, she’ll be okay. Her healing is beginning to work faster now that the IV is giving her what she’s been lacking.”

“What was with the bleeding?” Rocket asked. 

“It was almost supernatural,” Nat stated.

“I can’t tell,” Bruce answered. “Probably just other way her body is struggling to handle everything."

Steve sighed and looked into the room Tony and Pepper were currently in. “Someone should talk to them.” He wanted to be the one to, but he knew that Tony wasn’t ready to talk to him just yet.

“I’ve got it,” Rhodey said as he made his way into the room my parents were in. 

Nat began stroking my hair out of my face. As she did that, she touched my forehead and I accidentally sent a memory to her. One of the visions I had seen of Tony fighting off Thanos. She watched Tony get stabbed. She gasped loudly as she quickly pulled her hand back.

“What? What is it?” Steve quickly asked.

“She…” Nat hesitated, “She saw what happened to Tony. I-I just saw a part of it too.” Nat looked up at Steve with sad eyes. “She shouldn’t have to be forced into seeing things like that… She watched her father get stabbed…” Nat turned and looked at Tony. “I watched him get stabbed.” She said a bit quieter, finally realizing just how much Tony had been through in space. She turned to Steve and watched as he nervously kept his eyes on me. “You need to try harder to be there for her.”

Steve looked down and sighed. “Like what? I’ve tried to be there for her but I never know with her. Sometimes she wants my help and other times she refuses it.”

“Maybe instead of talking, or even being in the same room as her, you could leave notes or food or even a change of clothes? Like how you used to?”

“Maybe…”

“I know things aren’t what they once were. But we’re all going to need a sense of normal once again. Maybe this could be what helps you both."

Before Steve could reply, Rhodey walked out of the other room. “He wants to see her,” he told everyone. 

“Steve, go get another hospital bed and roll it in here,” Bruce instructed. 

Steve nodded and left quickly. Once he was back with the bed, him and Nat carefully set me on it. They rolled me into the other room, right next to Tony. Tony forced his weak body to turn on its side to look at me.

“Oh, sweetie…” he whispered as he reached for my hand. 

Once he touched my hand, I got into his head. I saw everything that had happened, through his eyes. Watching Peter turn to dust was the worst of it. As well as the three weeks he and the blue lady, Nebula, were stuck on the ship before Carol rescued them. 

After they had finished playing in my head, I realized that my physical body was still too weak to wake up but I wanted to talk to him. I needed to talk to him. I fully jumped into his head, causing him to pass out as well. 

next >

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 35: Disquisition

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Thirty-Five: Disquisition

Note: This was such a fun chapter to write. It feels good to be back in the swing of things. Sorry for the extended hiatus. I had a lot going on with my emotions and my computer. Life is just… life, you know? Anyway, thank you so much for all of the support while I was gone! I was worried I wouldn’t have anyone to come back to if I took too much longer! But onto the new chapter! And sorry it was so late! I slept until 7:40pm somehow… 

(-~-)

Most of the Ludwig manor was quiet, a serene landscape of lengthy halls, winding stairs, and large windows covered in thick curtains that blocked out most of the ambient light from outside. The only indication that there were people living here was the occasional passing by of a servant going about their daily tasks, and that was exceedingly infrequent by design. But even so, the library was a bastion of contemplation and peace, the only notable sounds being that of the turning of pages and the soft click of boots as the group navigated the vast array of books at their disposal. It was almost as if the room absorbed any and all outside noise to help facilitate a better reading environment. Truthfully, no one would be surprised if that was the case. There was a litany of supernatural energy in this house, more than any of them had an explanation for.

Dante sat at the other end of the long table that spanned the center of the room, flipping through some sort of book that had pictures in it. It seemed to be an encyclopedia of some sort that contained droves of information about demons and just about everything associated with them on a species level. Maybe it was more of a bestiary than anything else, but it was one of the few tomes that the youngest Son of Sparda had been able to locate that was actually in english. Okay, maybe not quite, but it was close.

“So what brought you here in the first place, Vergil? I feel like I'm missing a joke.” He said casually, flipping through the hand-illustrated novel to try and locate what he was looking for. In truth, he didn’t have anything in particular in mind, but he was still doing his best to try and help. Books like these were more Vergil’s jam than his, maybe even Nero’s to an extent. And V was a given. Dante was somewhat sure that his older nephew’s blood was actually ink at this point with how much he liked to read taken into account.

Vergil was flipping through an even larger less approachable book with such nonchalant ease that Dante was almost certain that his older twin was doing so just to make him feel more inferior than he already felt at the moment. When had Vergil learned to read this kind of stuff? Had he picked some of it up as a kid from all the time that he has spent with their father before his untimely disappearance? That seemed to be the most likely answer. Regardless, he was able to read it, and had been up until Dante had asked him that question, seemingly interrupting the flow of his train of thought. He clasped the book gently and laid it flat on the table, looking over out of the corner of his eye at his younger twin. It seemed that Dante was onto something.

Vergil casually gestured towards a bookcase on the other side of the room that was behind a locked metal door. None of them had even noticed the room until now, the other bookcases concealing it relatively well. Bars stretched from floor to ceiling, allowing the books to still be visible, but not accessible. The bookcase on the other side contained about a hundred thick books that seemed to be exceedingly old, and they were each locked inside of individualized cages with only their spines exposed. A chain attached to each book and the bookcase on the other end ensured that you wouldn’t be walking off with one.

“You are, Dante. I came here in search of a book in my youth. I… encountered more than I bargained for.” He said, seemingly almost embarrassed. He broke eye contact and returned to the book, not at all willing to elaborate.

Magnolia snickered slightly, taking a sip from the tray of tea that had been brought to them a short while ago. Normally people were not permitted to eat in the library, but they were all adults and could be trusted to not eat and then rub their hands all over everything without cleaning them off first. There was literally a washroom twenty feet from them, but the dining room was on the other side of the house and down a flight of stairs. No one felt like going that far just to drink a few sips of tea and enjoy a macaroon or an eclair. 

“What your twin brother is trying to say is that he absolutely tried to lift a book from our private collection while we were asleep one night, and he was caught. We have his assurances that he would have returned it, but I do believe he was smart enough to realize that he might have been in over his head.” She giggled a bit harder then, covering her hand in a polite attempt to not die laughing at something that only she and Vergil truly understood, given the circumstances and the context. Plus, they were in a library, after all. Best to keep it down. “He got more than he bargained for, indeed.”

Nero was not intrigued by what was going on, peeping over at them from a bookcase a few feet away. He seemed to consider yelling his question over to them before it occurred to him that he was in a library. He flinched, knowing that idea wouldn’t go over well before walking over to them with the book he had been examining and leaning over the table. Something told him that this was a story that might actually keep his interest for a moment, at least better than the book that he was trying to read that he barely understood. He was going to have to ask for an assist on this one. Time to go get V and pick his brain. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read it so much as he didn't understand the knowledge that was being imparted upon him. “Okay, so now you’ve got my attention. What did you do to him, Magnolia? I know it has to be something you did. You're barely holding it together.”

At that, she gave up and actually laughed, holding her hands over her face in order to try and stifle her laughter. There was no holding it back, but she could at least try to block the sound a little. The eldest Son of Sparda shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as Magnolia tried to collect herself. It seemed that they were at two different ends of the spectrum in regards to the context of this memory. Now Dante was intrigued as well, waiting to hear the answer elaborated on.

“See, what Vergil forgot to say was that I snuck up on him, caught him, and used a relocation spell to drop him head first from the ceiling! He had no time to even try to react. He just hit the floor like a brick.” She pointed to the ceiling and shook her head, clearing her throat as she attempted to put herself back together. Her hair had fallen into her face, and she battled it out of the way, unwilling to allow it to stay there. “It was easily the most uncoordinated thing I've ever seen him do, and just recalling the totally flabbergasted look on his face is enough to make me choke. He lost a fight to a little fourteen year old girl, and he’s the one who brought a sword.”

Everyone looked over at Vergil in various states of disbelief. Surely Magnolia has to be exaggerating just a little bit? The mental image of the Darkslayer plummeting head first from the easily forty foot ceiling was just too improbable to believe. And the idea that he had been snuck up on? Vergil practically had radar built into his brain, at least from what they could tell. But the look on his face was all that it took to come to the conclusion that she wasn’t telling a tall tale. This had actually happened.

“Pardon my interruption, but did you say the ceiling?” A familiar voice inquired from above them on the balcony. It was V. He and Lucia had approached the edge of the railing, holding books from different ends of the bookcase that they had both been examining. The young summoner seemed more than a little bit amused by this turn of events. How on earth had she managed to drop Vergil from that kind of high head first and not kill him? Were his father’s bones made of titanium?

“Unfortunately, she did. Every word of that exceedingly unpleasant tale is factual. My neck and head still hurt just recalling it.” Vergil said grumpily, attempting to conceal the fact there was actually a part of him that was impressed by her aptitude at such a young age. It was slightly astounding to him that she had even managed to sneak up on him, even if he had been in a dark, unfamiliar space and his sole focus had been on the task at hand. It was a learning experience, to be sure. Never again would he drop his guard like that.” I suppose I am lucky to be able to heal at the rate that I do, as I am certain that I cracked my skull and, at the bare minimum, dislocated a vertebrae in my neck. If I’m being honest, I probably broke it.”

“I was trying to use a compressing spell to hold him in place, but I panicked when I saw Yamato, and the first thing that came to mind was a relocation hex. I tried to eject him from the property, but unfortunately for him my powers were unable to draw from a location that I couldn’t currently see, and I didn’t know how to make him pass through a solid object yet, so he just fell three stories from the ceiling.” Magnolia laughed nervously, clearly horrified by the fact that she “My parents were impressed, nonetheless, and I was rewarded for my “quick thinking” even though I was sure I had just killed another child. Those were high times.” She allowed a wistful smile to spread across her face, the warmth from the distant memory spreading through every extremity she possessed. Yes, that had been a fun occasion.

Lucia chuckled lightly under her breath. The history of Dante’s family was fascinating, if not tumultuous and filled with problems. But it seemed that their frankly ridiculous durability made from some extremely interesting situations at times. She was just glad that they always seemed to recover and no permanent damage was done. She had come to like Vergil during their short time together, and to say she was fond of Dante would be a bit of an understatement. He had always been a wonderful friend to her, and she wanted nothing more than the best for him, perhaps even a bit more.

As if he had sensed her thoughts, V pulled himself away from the scene below for a moment to look over at her, hoping that he had yet to give away his intentions in regards to speaking with her. He just had to get the nerve up to explain what he couldn’t quite put into words, but he had noticed that of the two of them, he was not the only one who seemed to possess this issue. He saw the quiet little moments that she spent thinking, normally looking over at Dante. At times she became flustered around him for no apparent reason, much as he did around ehr. He couldn’t help but wonder if she too was longing for something or someone that she knew she couldn’t have.

He wished her luck in that regard, realizing that this was something that had probably been in the works long before he had come into the picture. Had Dante noticed the way that she looked at him? Had Lucia noticed the way that V looked at her? It was hard to say, and he knew that at some point he would have to simply ask her what it was that she was after. Whatever answer she gave him, he would fully respect and accept, even if it wasn’t the one that he was hoping for. That was what a responsible adult did. But leave it to him to suddenly realize that perhase the only person he had ever felt remotely attracted to was interested in another member of his family. There had to be a certain irony in that. He just hoped that if that was what she wanted, her affections would be returned. 

Dante seemed to be the sort that was perpetually single by choice, never indulging in any of the impulses or desires that he might possess. Perhaps he felt that he was protecting those that he cared about by not becoming entangled with them? It was all that he could imagine. Dante was likeable enough and, at least to him, he seemed lonely. It wasn’t so much something that his uncle did as it was just a way that he was. He could see a little bit of himself in him at times in ways that he didn’t expect or wish, hoping to spare everyone that he knew and cared about the majority of the feelings that he kept bottled up and pushed back so deep within himself. But these were things that had been set in stone long before his arrival. He was simply witnessing the aftermath.

But maybe it didn’t have to be that way? After all, something was only set in stone when someone accepted that and didn’t choose to alter it. Even the hardest stone could be chiseled with the right tools. That was the nature of such things. Maybe there was something that he could do… 

Griffon cackled slightly from behind him, manifesting and landing on the railing between him and Lucia. The wiley bird shook his head for a moment before looking over at V, then looking down at Vergil from above. “Ya know, I make alotta jokes about Dante having brain damage, but maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe it runs in the family. A fall from a room this high? Yea, that’s gonna bruise your brain a little.”

While the rest of the inhabitants of the lower level of the library giggled, Vergil shot the demonic bird a hard to read look. She seemed to be considering saying something, but decided against it. V could only wonder what his father thought of Griffon and Shadow, considering the history he had with them and the nature of their creation. There had to be some hard feelings on his end, even if there didn’t seem to be any from theirs. Dante had some prior with their previous iterations it seemed, too. But unlike Vergil, he didn’t seem to care much about that. One could only imagine that his experience with them had either been shorter or less tragic than his father’s, and considering how little he knew about that experience aside from what he’d gleaned from Griffon, he knew that he wasn’t in a position to say literally anything about such matters. But he did hope that one day he would be able to make some sort of peace between them.

Just as was about to turn and head back over towards the balcony with the book that he had been holding, he looked over and noticed that Lucia wasn’t where she had been a moment earlier. Intrigued, he walked down several rows until he located her. She was leafing through some sort of book, a curious look on her face. She seemed to be having some sort of eureka moment, and he had no intention of interrupting, but he had to know if he could be of assistance.

“You seem preoccupied. Is something the matter?” He asked quietly, wanting to make his presence known, but having no desire to destroy her train of thought. She looked up, seemingly slightly startled, but making no physical indication of this knowin. It seemed that she had simply been so deep in thought that she hadn’t been able to sense his presence when he had approached.

“... Have you… is there a card sorting section in this library?” She asked, glancing between him and the book in her hand. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she looked almost concerned, and that in of itself was somewhat startling to him. He stepped back and turned to face the railing with her close behind him before taking the opportunity to turn towards the desk near the entrance. V gestured towards it before watching as she nodded politely and headed down towards it. Wondering what was going on, he took a moment to gently place the book back where it belonged before heading down to meet her, noticing that she was flipping through the cards on the table.

By the time he reached her, it became apparent that she had not located what she had been looking for. Her somewhat hurried and slightly alarmed minor threw him off as he contemplated if he should ask. She clearly noticed this, shaking her head slowly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Forgive me. I found something troubling in this book, and it makes reference to a certain section “X” in this library that contains a book with the requisite information in it. But I don’t know where that section is, and I don’t see it anywhere in this guide.”

“That’s because no one goes in there, darling. Those texts are dangerous.”

Everyone in the room turned around, clearly alarmed by the presence of another individual that they had not noticed. Standing before them was a tall woman in a trailing black and silver dress with a gray hooded shawl over her head. Her face was exposed a moment later when she lowered the hood, revealing her to look very much like Magnolia and Luta. She was soaking wet, and none of them could find any indication that she particularly cared. A certain darkness almost seemed to radiate from her, making them all uneasy in different ways, specially Magnolia and Vergil, the pair seemingly recognizing her but alarmed by the state that she was in. Was something wrong with her aside from what was obvious to them? Because that was the only thing they could place.

Looking over at the two of them, the woman nodded for a moment before turning towards the stairs. She didn’t have to say that she would return. They could just feel it. And before long she vanished up the stairs, more than likely to change into something less saturated. V and Lucia both looked over Magnolia, clearly desiring an explanation as to who this absurdly unnerving woman was. Nero seemed to concur, slowly making his way over to the table and sitting down. He suddenly didn’t want to read anymore.

So… Who the hell is that?” He asked, his voice little more than a faint whisper. He didn’t seem scared so much as he was concerned, wanting to know if they were in any sort of danger. He had no idea what anyone in the Ludwig family was capable of, or if they were all on the same side. There had to be at least one outlier, didn't there?

Vergil and Magnolia shared a glance between one another as she nodded in response to her longtime friend’s unspoken question. Vergil almost seemed to pale slightly before leaning quietly on his elbow, thinking. But before any of them could inquire as to what was going on, Magnolia spoke. His voice was slightly shaky as she spoke.

“Section X is forbidden. It contains dark texts that you dare not view without the requisite knowledge. But if you must view them, that might be facilitated. And luckily for you, the only person with a key to it has just returned. Though she has changed significantly since I saw her last… ”

Making himself known for the first time in the better part of an hour, Sirrus came from behind a nearby bookcase and walked over to them before speaking quietly. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost, his normally pale complexion drained of all evidence that it had once contained blood or melanin. Magnolia’s youngest sister. Aluta. My father’s ex wife.”

(-~-)

I literally stopped to order macarons when I wrote the part about them and the eclairs. Something about it just triggered my sugar tooth. I’ve literally never eaten a macaroon in my entire life. But they are just so pretty! So anyway… 

I hope you all had a great week! See you all in the comments, and on Wednesday with a new chapter! Gosh, it feels so great to say that again! I’ve missed you all! Things are about to get very interesting, and I can’t wait for you to be able to read them. I haven’t been this excited about the start of an arc since the flashback sequence!

[medea10]

My Review of To Heart

How did I get into this anime? I have been curious about this anime for a straight-up decade now and the randomizer decided to bless me with something not incest. Thank you Arceus!

Since she was young, Akari Kamigishi has been best friends with Hiroyuki Fujita. Because of kind acts he did for her as a child, Akari has stayed by Hiroyuki’s side. Now that they’re both in high school, something has changed in Akari and it feels more like she’s falling for her childhood friend. Will Akari find happiness with her best friend or will she end up friend-zoned?

And because this is a harem, there are quite a few girls hanging around Hiroyuki throughout the two seasons. Just to name a few, we have the brash friend, Shiho. Then there’s the tomboy type, Aoi. The very silent type, Serika! And then there’s the robotic maid, Multi. Yes, you read right. A robot! This is Japan after all! Oh yeah, there’s also the class rep, an actual American girl, and a quiet girl with supernatural powers.

Akari, girl, you need to step up your game if you’re up against all these chicks!

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: Before I discuss all that, let’s go down the ugly story about To Heart for fans in the U.S. The first season (and only the first season) was dubbed by RightStuf (at least I’m certain about that). Everything else wound up undubbed and even unlicensed. To Heart was kind of left in the dust due to what happened when the first season was supposed to release in the U.S. A lot of damaged material was the culprit and this came during the time when animation was transitioning from animating using cells to going digital. So to sum that up, the anime debuted in Japan around 1999, Rightstuf licensed To Heart in 2004 with a release in 2005, and the actual release was delayed to 2007. And in back-in-those-days times, that’s pretty fucking long. I can see why they didn’t want to bother with this series after it took all that trouble to remaster a series many were calling only “OKAY”.

Now then, on with the good stuff! I went in thinking that this was a Geneon reject, but was blown out of my ass to hear voices from New York! Lisa Ortiz, Jessica Calvello, Veronica Taylor, Wayne Grayson, and my personal favorite (not who you’re thinking), Carol Jacobanis! Yeah, surprisingly I didn’t hear Ted Lewis here. But Jacobanis is my second favorite in the NYAV group. I am in nostalgia heaven! Yes folks, these were the same people to give life to many characters from Pokemon, Yu-Gi-Oh, Berserk, His and Her Circumstances, Bakuman, Gravitation…OH, gambled and lost! Well, you get my meaning! Thankfully this dub wasn’t as horrific as Gravitation (despite Hiroyuki’s voice actor is well-known for something from that particular anime). Here’s what you might recognize these folks from!

JAPANESE CAST: *Akari is played by Ayako Kawasumi (known for Ursula on Pokemon DP, Saber on Fate/Zero, Izumi on Beyond the Boundary, Aoki on Bakuman, Laura on Index, Yoshida on Shakugan no Shana, and Nodame on Nodame Cantabile)

*Hiroyuki is played by Kazuya Ichijo (known for Hoteye on Fairy Tail and Zafila on Nanoha)

*Shiho is played by Chieko Higuchi (known for Tomo on Azumanga Daioh)

*Multi is played by Yui Horie (known for Hanekawa on Monogatari, Tohru on Fruits Basket, Hanyuu on Higurashi, Minorin on Toradora, Charla on Fairy Tail, Chie on Persona 4, Maria on Umineko, and Riki on Little Busters)

ENGLISH CAST: *Akari is played by Debora Rabbai (known for Mika from Gravitation, Rika on His and Her Circumstances, Leina on Queen’s Blade, and Boogiepop [original])

*Hiroyuki is played by Rich McNanna (known for Jack Walker on Pokemon Movie 9 and Shuuichi on Gravitation)

*Shiho is played by Jessica Calvello (known for Prima on Pokemon, Hange on Attack on Titan, Excel on Excel Saga, Kanako on Maria Holic, Tsukino on His and Her Circumstances, and Aika on Aria the Animation)

*Multi is played by Tara Sands (known for Richie on Pokemon, Soujirou on Rurouni Kenshin, Mokuba on YGO, Badiane on Sailor Moon SuperS movie, Tori on Pokemon Movie ~ Deoxys, and Filia on Slayers Try)

SHIPPING: So remind me what genre this anime is!

HAREM!

We’re watching a harem! But it’s more slice of life than anything romantic. There are a lot of love interests for Hiroyuki throughout the series. It’s just that it doesn’t develop as much as one might think (except for maybe Akari) in season one.

And it’s so easy to think that Hiroyuki is the object of every one of these ladies’ desire. Serika waits for him to come to the club room. Aoi finds him helpful, as does Tomoko and Lemmy. Multi got attached to Hiroyuki’s headpats. As for Akari, she’s got quite the teddy bear collection because of Hiroyuki. After watching all of season one where Hiroyuki is hanging with all of these ladies individually, I thought there would be a moment of jealousy from one or more of these girls. Much to my surprise, that was not the case. It didn’t go down any of those bad-end routes you’d see with things like Kanon, Clannad, or God-forbid, School Days!

But then season two happened…

Ooh boy! First of all, Hiroyuki ended up getting his first confession of love from the most unlikely person ever. Kotone wasn’t even a contender in the first season as she had other issues. In fact, didn’t she have feelings for Masashi in season one? But halfway in the season, she gets ballsy and confesses to Hiroyuki. He rejects her and thankfully it didn’t get ugly (except Akari heard it and got jealous). Lemmy, I also thought wasn’t in play, but here we are! She was apparently childhood friends with Hiroyuki and brought it up when confessing her feelings. That unfortunately came at a bad time as he’s in a quarrel with Akari so he dismisses her.

And then there’s Akari! She’s been able to put on a smile and kind of be a wall-flower whenever Hiroyuki is doing something with one of the other girls. And most of the season, we see him mostly with Aoi and Multi. Thankfully, Aoi never showed romantic interests in Hiroyuki. I much prefer Aoi x Kotone if you want to know the truth. But halfway into season two, jealousy came in like a drunkard in a bar. Akari was definitely pissed when she saw Kotone confess to Hiroyuki and would get jealous seeing Hiroyuki and Multi together so much.

Oh yeah, good old Multi! Yes Multi loves Hiroyuki. Now does Hiroyuki love Multi back? It’s complicated! Because of Multi, Hiroyuki ends up pursuing a career in robotics and as a result spends quite a bit of time with her (pissing Akari off in the process). But because Multi is kind of a malfunctioning robot, who the hell knows if she’ll even remember being with Hiroyuki.

Now are there other boys interested in any of these other girls? The only other boy that has any prominent screen time is Masashi. It’s just that after season one, he’s only seen every so often because he’s busy with soccer. But in season one, it almost felt like Kotone was admiring him from the distance. Don’t get excited because that was just a one-and-done sort of thing before Kotone set eyes on Hiroyuki. Actually, Masashi does reveal his fondness for Akari (at literally the worst possible time). But it seems like Masashi ends up with Shiho in the end. So…whatever!

Hiroyuki DOES end up with someone. Just go down to the end of season two to get that answer.

ENDING TO SEASON ONE: The last two episodes of this season consist around Shiho deciding that she wants to throw a Christmas party at an old hangout from her middle school days! But this isn’t the only nostalgic kick she feels. Shiho ends up remembering the first day she met Hiroyuki and after he took care of a wound she got, Shiho starts seeing Hiroyuki in a new light. Yeah, up until this point, Shiho and Hiroyuki’s relationship could be summed up by saying they both give each other shit every day. Then you have Akari, who is also feeling a little nostalgic with trying to see if Hiroyuki is able to remember things from their past. During the finale however, Akari does develop a cold and has to bail on the party planning.

When Shiho came to visit Akari, it kinda comes out that both girls do care for Hiroyuki. But because this isn’t one of those kinds of romance animes, it really doesn’t get ugly. It’s more of an “I acknowledge your feelings for the boy I like and good luck to you”. Shiho really didn’t do any confessing and we get a cute moment with Hiroyuki and Akari out in the snow.

Let’s see how Season Two holds up!

OMAKE: Nozomi Entertainment also released the six Omake specials that came with releases of the first season. Not dubbed! Just a couple of minute-long specials that range from cute to wildly absurd.

There were also Omake specials in season two that mostly consisted of all the girls fighting each other in almost a Street Fighter or Dragon Ball style.

REMEMBER MY MEMORIES: Five years after the first season aired, To Heart returns with a bit of a time-leap from where we left off last and some slightly improved(?) animation. And if you’re wondering why this season isn’t called “To Heart 2”, there is a series named that already. To Heart 2 is a spin-off of To Heart. It’s just that none of the characters from To Heart are in To Heart 2. ANYWAYS…

It has been a year or so from where we left off. Hiroyuki, Akari and the others are now in their senior year of high school and a lot has changed. Minor character, Kotone who mostly kept to herself in the first season, has found another role in hanging out with Aoi (the chick who’s into martial arts). Serika is still silent, but that blue hue to her hair is definitely not silent. What the hell is with this new animation? And finally, Multi apparently left a year ago and came back in the first episode of season two. Only now Multi has amnesia. A lot has changed since season one, especially when it comes to romance. Buckle up!

ENDING TO REMEMBER MY MEMORIES: Yeah, this season layed on the melodrama really thick compared to the previous season. All the ladies love Hiroyuki and at least half of them expressed those feelings to him. Akari had some conflicted feelings when it came to Hiroyuki. She loves him, but feels like he doesn’t return the feeling due to him hanging around a lot of other girls (especially Aoi and Multi).

Speaking of Multi, this girl has had such the rotunda of computer issues. My stroked-out Dell PC from 2005 had more working power than this girl! For starters, her memories are in danger of being wiped away at several points of the series. We even begin season two where Multi returns after over a year with full-blown amnesia. And since then, Multi had some sort of malfunction issue arise every other episode. This was showcased in the finale, where Multi gets so upset and runs away to the amusement park!

So, Hiroyuki and all of his friends come together to look for Multi. They thankfully found her at the amusement park (during closed hours) and broke into the main-frame to the Ferris wheel. And did I mention these people almost committed assault on police officers? Yeah, these kids are about to have a rap sheet the size of Texas by the end of the episode. Anyways, Hiroyuki, Akari, and Multi ride the ferris wheel and have a nice talk before Multi falls asleep for…

…Let’s say a long time…

Fast-forward to high school graduation! Hiroyuki and Akari seem to be doing a lot better. They’re both going to attend the same college and are pretty much on better terms than when Akari was having a jealousy, bitch-fit. At graduation, they both decided to give each other the Christmas gifts they never gave each other. Because Multi was having another malfunction, they never got to give the gifts. Hiroyuki got a hand-knit sweater. And Akari got a ring!

Hiroyuki wanted it and so he put a ring on it!

During the ED credits, we see the characters we’ve seen throughout these two seasons and what they ended up doing after high school. Lemmy is back in San Francisco. Aoi and Kotone are still doing the fighting matches. Rio is a primary school teacher. Serica is still into the occult. Tomoko is working for her father’s business. Masashi is becoming a big soccer star with Shiho working on journalism (and I think Shiho ends up romantically involved with Masashi).

And we close with Hiroyuki and Akari working with the HMX robots and surprise, surprise, Multi wakes up.

And before you ask, I did NOT watch To Heart 2. And I don’t intend to…at least not yet. I’m saving it for another day and putting it back on the randomizer list.

This anime was…just okay. Yeah, a lot of things were predictable, especially when it came to who the main male lead was going to end up with. Come on, we all know Akari was going to end up with Hiroyuki in the end. If this were the visual novel, I’m sure there were infinite numbers of routes Hiroyuki could take and there’d be a good end to all of the girls. But I’m mostly anime only here! In terms of recommendations, ehh…I feel like there were other better harems you could watch.

Only season one of To Heart got an official release in the U.S., but you might have to search around for any DVD copies as I’m pretty sure it’s currently out of print. Anything else from the series, you’ll have to do some heavy searching to watch all the way through.

Okay, next licensed limbo/unlicensed classics!

What’s that one play everyone and their mother has seen, but you haven’t?

*sighs* Hamilton.

No, the other one.

Les Miserable? Wait, this never got licensed?!

Okay! I guess I’m watching that. I hope I can do well at this review considering I never watched the play, read the book, or watched that film where Russell Crowe can’t sing.

[prairiedust]

Purgatory Revisited Part One

We’re going to Wally World!!!! I’m laughing so hard like going after a leviathan blossom lolololkhfhfdshfkh;aharihfndwhat the ever lovin hell with this show does it come with a ramekin of Blossom Sauce TM?

So back to Purgatory. This is fine.

no it’s not fine asdfh;jkhgifgrhhg so the reason I’m keysmashing is this: I have wanted another “descent into the underworld” plotline (plot, not incidence) since Cas made his deal with the Empty, because that is just a truckload of unfinished business. And I thought that we’d gotten “all” of the underworld allusion in The Rupture and Golden Time, and that the next textual underworld journey we could expect would have something to do with the Empty! (Although it really is starting to feel like that has been dropped completely, esp in light of the Shadow and Billie both waking up Jack and appearing to be allies. Unless that is another “gotcha” waiting to hatch unexpectedly...) So circling back around to Purgatory when there’s other loose ends to tie up is a surprise.

When I think about it, Sam’s underworld journey was allegorically bringing back Eileen, Cas’ would (supposedly) be settling his score with the Shadow, and so Purgatory 2: Return to Purgatory would be Dean’s. But Cas is allegedly coming with Dean… this is interesting. Hey look, kids, there’s Big Ben, and there’s Parliament, and there’s Big Ben, and there’s Parliament!

Why am I excited about a “descent into the underworld”? Why, when our heroes jump back and forth between different realms like they’re walking in a park? Why was I not yelling about this when Castiel and Jack jumped into the Hellmouth? (psst it was partly because he was going with someone else, yet here we are.) And how many times have our heroes been dead? I mean, Dean was dead just as recently as Advanced Thanatology! And all three of them just now held onto a magic bowl and were Bedknobs and Broomsticked into Hell in the midseason finale, it wasn’t even that hard??? What’s the big deal and why is Purgatory 2: Return to Purgatory any different than any other trip to one of Spn’s many otherworlds?

This is the first of at least two, and possibly three, and four is not entirely out of the question, hot-mess posts over the course of the hiatus and is just over 4k. I’ve rewritten this so many times and I still don’t know what the point of posting it would be, but here, try to enjoy some rambling about mythology and heroes’ descents into the underworld.

Many mythologies and works of literature have stories about descents into the underworld. The descent of a hero into the underworld is called “katabasis.” Actually almost any descent into the underground in myth and literature is called a katabasis/catabasis, but I’m talking about a typical “hero goes to hell” kind of story. In Greek mythology, Hercules goes to the underworld to complete one of his twelve labors-- as his final task he has to capture Cerberus, the guardian of the gates to the underworld, so down he goes, has some adventures in the netherworld-- and as half-divine, he gets back out-- and then goes back down to give Cerberus back to Hades, and gets back from his second journey okay too. Odin journeys to Hel in order to find out what happened to his son Baldur, who it turns out was in Hel. The Japanese god Izanagi journeys to Yomi, the underworld, to try to get his wife Izanami back (but similar to other legends about otherworlds and underworlds, Izanami has consumed food and can never leave.) In literature, Dante Alighieri wrote one of the alleged masterworks of Western literature about an imaginary descent into Christian Hell in The Inferno, where Dante and Virgil descend into the famous nine circles and he basically spills the tea on most of his contemporaries and passive-aggressively doles out everyone’s just desserts and then witnesses the morningstar’s icy torment, and climbs back out through the center of the Earth and out Mount Purgatory. In Michael Chricton’s Jurassic Park-- just kidding. Ha ha no, I’m not. There’s a powerful catabasis at the end of that book that leads to a revelation about the dinosaurs. Think about how many movies and books there are that feature a descent underground, a descent into a netherworld, or even just a trip to an otherworld. Tom Sawyer. Hellboy. Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. The Empire Strikes Back. The Last Jedi. It’s a powerful tale type. 

So @drsilverfish and I have talked a bit about one of the most famous “descent into the underworld” stories, Orpheus and Eurydice, as it features in season 15. Orpheus and Eurydice were deeply in love-- however, on their wedding day, Eurydice was bitten by a viper and died. Orpheus, the most skilled poet and musician in the world, was unable to go on without her, and played a song so sad that every creature in the cosmos wept with him and eventually he journeyed to Hades’ kingdom in order to plead to Hades for Eurydice’s return. Orpheus sang so compellingly that Persephone, Hades’ part-time wife (herself able to move between these two worlds on a technicality,) was moved to tears and convinced Hades to let Eurydice and Orpheus go. However, Hades has one requirement: Orpheus is NOT to turn around to see Eurydice’s shade until the sunlight touches her. We all know, however, that as soon as the sun touched him he turned around. It was too soon, Eurydice had not crossed into the upper world, and she disappeared back into the underworld forever.

Stories about descents or attempted descents into the underworld often ask us to reflect on the cyclical nature of time, as in the story of Persephone, loss as in the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, the finality and inevitability of death, as in the Epic of Gilgamesh, or themes of vulnerability, justice, and cosmic/karmic balance as feature in both the story of Inanna and the sister-stories of Odysseus and Aeneid. Supernatural has dealt with those themes, as well.

What makes descents into the underworld different from other journey-into-otherworld stories is that usually there is no way out of the land of the dead, and the ability of our hero or heroine to cross that boundary both ways sets them apart as truly exceptional. So there is also an element of liminality to descent stories-- while not necessarily liminal places in and of themselves, there is usually a border, gate, doorway, wall, or membrane of some sort that has to be navigated, and these gates are supposed to only work one way-- into the netherworld. Yet our heroes cross and sometimes re-cross. But we already know that about Sam and Dean and Cas, they’ve died multiple times, came right back, visited Hell, came right back, went to Purgatory, made it back, so what’s my deal?...

Well, getting into this allusion, tne thing that makes the story of Orpheus so unsatisfying is because the contract of the story is not fulfilled, the thing we’re rooting for does not happen-- in many descent into the underworld stories, the hero takes on the journey voluntarily, has an objective, and ascends successfully with that objective or having fulfilled it (this is a tentative thesis afaik, because other stories are considered to be katabasis stories that don’t necessarily fit these requirements. But for Spn, this seems to be what is coming up based on the template from The Rupture, Last Call, and especially Golden Time. And I really wanted to find something to back this up but goddamn is the internet (and even databases like JSTOR) a freaking mess nowadays.) 

Golden Hour was a clear allusion-- almost a retelling-- of the Orpheus and Eurydice story. There was the “descent” into the land of the dead-- Rowena’s hexed apartment-- and then the only living person who could enter it without dying was Sam, marking him as exceptional. Therein he found a spell, authored by someone who has become the queen of the dead, to bring Eileen back to life. While doing the spell, he kept his back to her during her journey back to life-- on the surface level reading, it was (maybe!) because he knew her ghost-clothes wouldn’t come back with her, but on the allegorical level it was because Sam, as Orpheus, passed the test and didn’t look back until he knew that the sun shone on her. When an underworld quest fails, it is often because there is some lesson that the hero has to learn about death and life and grief; the lesson for Orpheus is that of the peril of thresholds, the permanence of loss, and patience-- those are not lessons that Sam necessarily needs to learn.

In the allusion we got to the Orpheus and Eurydice story, we also got a terrible wrong righted-- as it was unjust that Eurydice died on her wedding day and it wasn’t fair that Orpheus didn’t follow the rules, Eileen had been dragged off to Hell when the Hellhound killed her, and by Chuck’s rules could not get into Heaven, and so bringing her back into the “sunlit lands” was a rectification of that injustice. In the myth, when Orpheus loses Eurydice at the end, it’s just so goddamn sad, and is an unfulfilled expectation. Glynn fixed that. 

Golden Time was a beautiful subversion of a famously tragic ending. There are some ways in which subversion of stories are fulfilling-- when Glynn altered and subverted the Orpheus and Eurydice trope, it satisfied a lot of viewers and gave the myth a happier ending. But sometimes, subversion of a story just leaves us wanting…

I thought fleetingly that the Orpheus trope might apply to Cas in the Empty in season 13, but again it didn’t fit well, and ultimately he wasn’t rescued from the Empty like Eurydice from the underworld. Man did I want that, though, I really wanted someone to fight for Cas to get back. What we got was terrific, for a variety of reasons. Cas’ “perma-death” and The Empty plotline was a partial Gilgamesh and Enkidu reference from The Epic of Gilgamesh for Dean’s side of the story, if you squint-- Gilgamesh’s best most perfect companion Enkidu (a wild man who was literally made by the gods specifically to be his partner in adventure, which has interesting connotations for deancas subtext in light of how heavy a hand Chuck has had in the Winchesters’ lives) dies, and Gilgamesh prays to the gods to allow him to join Enkidu in the afterlife. In season 13 we get Dean praying for Castiel’s return, as opposed to an underworld reunion, but God does not grant his prayer; Dean then actually kills himself in Advanced Thanatology but is sent back by Billie. This is a bit like the Gilgamesh and Enkidu story, but ultimately the allusion was subverted in that Castiel gets to fight his own way back to the sunlit world-- he becomes a partial underworld hero in his own right, which was a fantastic arc for him (this trip to the Empty doesn’t completely “fit the bill” because Castiel was killed, he didn’t mean to go there, and he did not necessarily have an objective, although he discovered his will to return to the sunlit lands.) There was further obfuscation because Mary was missing in the AU at the same time, so it wasn’t “pure.”

Another reason why Gilgamesh and Enkidu only worked to a certain extent was because on Castiel’s side, his “journey to the underworld” can be likened more to that of Inanna, the widely worshipped Mesopotamian goddess. Inanna desired to visit her sister Erishkegal, who was queen of the dead, but her sister was not happy to see her, and made Inanna remove an article of clothing at each of the seven gates of the underworld until she was naked (and symbolically humbled,) but nonetheless Inanna dared to sit on her sister’s throne; the seven judges of the afterlife saw this and killed her for it. Her devoted servant Ninshubur in the upper realm prayed to Enki, Inanna’s father, who created two beings who could rescue her from the underworld and bring her back to life-- however, Inanna is hounded after this by the demons of the underworld because the cosmos is unbalanced by her rescue, and someone must take her place in the underworld. Themes from this, if not a well-fitting allusion, at least crop up in both Cas’ meeting with the Empty Shadow, who humbles him over the course of their interlocution and then bizarrely gives him new clothes, hello subverted motif, while they are in a necropolis of sorts where Castiel’s brothers and sisters lay sleeping, and in the way in which Inanna can be conceptualized as a “sleeping beauty” while a corpse in the underworld, much like Cas had to be awakened from an eternal slumber, and then later on we see the theme of cosmic imbalance needing to be restored in the deal he makes with the Shadow to trade his life for Jack’s in Byzantium, which is still a swinging pendulum of doom.

I side-eyed Cas’ and Belphegor’s free-fall into Hell, but they were journeying together, and there are not a lot of mythological katabases (that I could find) that feature two or more journeyers. When you get into the realm of literature-- and we are dealing with the concept of the “written word” there are too many to deal with-- it’s almost everyone’s favorite trope, you can even argue that there is an underworld episode in Sean of the Dead-- so I’m keeping the focus narrow.

I’m also basing all of this on the pattern we’ve seen in-universe. We can see that Sam and Eileen have been heavily paralleled to Dean and Castiel in Our Father-- where Sam and Eileen have long and soulful conversations with just their eyes, Dean and Cas can hardly look at each other, and where Sam and Eileen have held hands, there was a big glowy gap between Dean’s hand and Cas’ when Cas healed Dean. So taking Sam’s underworld adventure (that he made with Eileen) as a template for Dean’s (who is going with Castiel) is fair. But, then again, the next episode is called The Trap....

Going back to what I’ve said about each “hero” in TFW getting a katabasis, setting Purgatory 2 aside as “Dean’s” descent story satisfies most of the criteria for a full-blown Descent into the Underworld: 

On Dean’s part, finding out that Chuck has been yanking them around their whole lives has robbed him of his worldview as an epic hero-- if nothing he’s ever done is real, the only thing that set him apart as exceptional was Chuck’s obsession with him, which has been called “pervy.” Pervy has a sexual connotation, true, but in the purest sense means turned away from the natural course. Dean’s descents into the underworld have not been “natural,” they have not always followed the outline of “voluntary descent, attainment of objective, and ascent out of the underworld.”  They’ve been engineered. His first encounter with the underworld almost-but-not-quite fits the catabasis requirements-- it was done only reluctantly (yes, he made the crossroads deal but in the end he very much did not want to go;) he digs his way out of the grave, which is a very powerful “ascent” image, but he also had no goal in the underworld; he was not going to receive enlightenment, visit an old pal, or retrieve an item or person or whatever. In fact, he experienced possibly his most catastrophic failure there by breaking, torturing damned souls, and starting the first Apocalypse. His second descent, into Purgatory, was also involuntary, as he was yanked into it by the vacuum created when he and Castiel ganked Dick, recognized an objective only once he was in Purgatory; in contrast to his rescue from Hell he does fight his way out of this underworld and achieves “anabasis,” or heroic ascent into the upper world, but the other two criteria were not met. After Metatron killed him, he became a demon, an underworld being, and so was not a “hero” if and when he visited Hell (and all signs indicate he spent his demon days topside iirc.) In Advanced Thanatology, he undertakes a voluntary journey into death order to stop the evil ghost in the haunted house, but ends up in Death’s Library, which is an otherworld or at least only underworld-adjacent, and he is sent back up by Billie possibly against his wishes, hence no heroic ascent, even though this does deal with the themes of cosmic balance and righting injustices (sending the trapped souls to their true afterlife, for instance, and stopping the implosion of the universe, for another.)

Finding out that some or all of the “big” events of his life were actually orchestrated by Chuck has stolen Dean’s identity. Last Call went a good way to restoring his faith in himself, but he definitely has reconceptualized Dean Winchester as someone who “looks after the little guys,” not a hero involved in epic stories of good and evil and right and wrong where the fate of the world is on the line. Which is fine, but we need our epic hero back in order to defeat Chuck. Purgatory 2, should it prove to not be another one of Chuck’s plots, will go far as an underworld descent that Dean undertakes more-or-less voluntarily, which has an objective (retrieve the Leviathan Blossom,) and it is presumed he will return under his own steam back through Michael’s Gate. (We know it will not be that easy, but that’s the template.)

We assume he’s not going alone. Catabasis usually involves a separation/individuation of some sort. In the story of Inanna, she leaves behind her companion Ninshubur, who waits in the upper realm for three days before mounting a rescue. In the stories of Odysseus and Aeneas, they leave their crew and their new city respectively, and after going to the underworld they each meet different shades who also have differing values to bring to the theme of separation. Gilgamesh and Enkidu are separated by death and deliberately kept apart by the gods. Izanagi seeks a reunion with his wife. In Orpheus and Eurydice, well, separation is the overarching theme of the story. So, other underworld stories that we might see referenced this time are the twin journeys of Odysseus and Aeneas, since we have two characters going to Purgatory. Odysseus goes to Hades’ realm, and encounters three shades, (one of whom is a fallen comrade, echoes of Benny LaFitte) and receives prophecy about what he would be in for during the rest of his travels. In the Roman sister-story (fanfic rewrite) to the Odyssey, the Aeneid, Aeneas also visits the underworld with the sybil, meets some ghosts, and receives prophecy about the future of Rome. (And BY THE WAY who in this show just appeared in an underworld and believes in prophecy and just told Dean and Cas to fix their “tiff” right before they were sent to Purgatory...) 

In Purgatory 1, separation was also a big deal, as Cas wanders off to have adventures in the woods while Dean and his underworld companion search for him, and then Cas ultimately decides to stay, making his separation from Dean almost permanent. In each of the Winchester’s deaths, we have separation of brothers. In a tiny little in-universe reference, the Winchesters found the Seal of Solomon, or the key to the AU, in an episode that featured lovers/mates separated by a rift, that had a tiny little “descent into the underworld” shot of Dean going into the RI Chapterhouse.

But interestingly, we *just* got a subverted Orpheus and Eurydice story, where all three bells were rung, and wherein in the “lovers” were allowed to remain together. Additionally, in Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven we see two entities-- Adam and Michael-- remain together after ascending from the underworld, although both are now free to go about their separate ways, which is very different from what we were expecting. BUT in the main arc, Dean and Sam have just been separated by Chuck’s trap. It’s all very... interesting.

So now I have to decide. Do I see Dean and Cas’ journey to Purgatory as a descent into the underworld, or as the retelling of an in-universe myth? Or as both? Or will it be something completely novel? That partly depends on how Purgatory works in the upcoming half of the season, and I’ll be talking about Purgatory as a possible liminal setting in another post. Right now it’s not necessarily shaping up to be one, but there are hints...

Since there is a strong possibility that this will be a retelling of old Supernatural story, much like Last Call can be seen as a retelling of Nihilism, the idea of retelling and revising stories is an even larger theme this season than last-- an “anabasis,” or rising emphasis, so much so that it has in part become text. We can say, maybe, that Purgatory 1 and all of it’s baggage is now myth, and hope that what we’re getting is “new story.” If we get Purgatory 2 as a retelling of that myth, though, we might hope for new character development or a different outcome, the way Last Call retold the story of Nihilism with different themes and devices.

My last thought about descent stories is that, well, there are more than a few that feature romantic partners. These stories almost always involve those three criteria and the theme of separation that I set up as expectations: the lovers are separated by death or abduction, the mission is undertaken voluntarily-- the hero is going to find their lover in the afterlife-- there is an objective-- find the dead person!-- and there is a successful ascent-- at least by the hero-- to the upper world. I already mentioned the stories of Izanagi and Orpheus, both of which feature lovers separated by death, a journey to the underworld in hopes of reuniting with them, and a “successful” return to the sunlit lands (in that our heroes themselves return, at least.) The Shasta people of the Pacific Northwest have a story of a pair of woodpeckers; the wife falls into their fire and dies, so her husband chases her spirit into the afterlife (where she is incarnated as a human being) and to join her he has to go back to his abode and die himself in order to be reborn also as a human. Ninshubur may have been described at times as one of Inanna’s lovers, and to a modern reader the subtext is definitely there, as it is between Gilgamesh and Enkidu. That’s not to say there are a majority of underworld stories that are romantic, because I can’t possibly read them all, but it is a notable trend, and one almost explicitly evoked in-show. I’ve tried to stay away from deancas subtext lately because I personally am not an endgame-positive viewer, but is there something romantic about Dean and Castiel going to the underworld together? There certainly seemed to be in Purgatory 1: Journey Through Purgatory. P2 following so quickly after what Sam and Eileen undertook together, it’s almost like it was foreshadowed. The deancas subtext at this point in the season isn’t “oh there was a beer sign in the background” (although that’s some of my favorite kind of subtext ngl) it’s now “Sam and Eileen have been giving each other soulful looks and holding hands while Dean and Cas won’t even look at each other and see how they almost held hands but didn’t” and so it isn’t hard to reach. It has been accessible for a while now. But are we still in a place where textually Sam is getting the “romantic” plotline and Dean is getting the “platonic” one, a la season 8? The mirroring is too perfect, and the writing room was even playing on the word “mirror” by adding the connotation of “opposite.”. I will say that If subtext is all that can be written about a deancas narrative in season 15, well, to paraphrase Dean Winchester they sure are putting as much sub into that text as they can.

So going through the midseason hiatus, I will be thinking a lot about “old” Purgatory, underworlds, borderlands, and otherlands, liminal settings and liminal experiences, the peril of the threshold (besides the infamous “letting go” scene from Purgatory 1, the gateway will only exist for twelve hours!) and who knows what else. This has gotten long enough. On to liminality! I think. No, maybe I’ll do old Purgatory first. Anyway I’m cutting this off here.

Hallelujah, holy shit, where’s the tylenol?

(I’m linking to the Shasta myth because it’s a little hard to find and I want to be able to come back to it, as it has given me some ideas about resurrection/reincarnation and becoming human….

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shasta_traditional_narratives got me to:

Voegelin, E. (1947). Three Shasta Myths, including "Orpheus". The Journal of American Folklore, 60(235), 52-58.)

[skybiome]

knock me off my high horse

this got much darker than i expected it to

fic for @mine-sara-sp‘s shadow people au

this is a continuation of cavalier

warnings: non-physical torture, forced sleep deprivation, non-graphic mentions of injuries, brief mentions of dislocated bones, puzzler commits literal war crimes

if there's anything else i should add to the warnings, please tell me

The first thing Wels notices is how much pain he’s in. His ribs feel like they’re on fire and his thoughts are cloudy, like he’s having to fight through a layer of thick cotton to even perceive his surroundings.

Not that there’s much to perceive in the first place. The room is incredibly small and Wels is distantly glad that he’s not claustrophobic. All four walls are made of stone bricks. The floor is as well, but it must be made of slabs set on the bottom half of the block, as there’s a gap between the floor and the walls. At the top of the 3 by 3 room, there’s a single block gap that reveals the sky above that’s led up to by inverted stairs. 

Wels manages to pull himself into a sitting position despite the protests from his ribs. 

“Hello?” The knight’s voice echoed up and out of the chamber. After a moment, he heard someone moving near the opening. Cavalier’s head peeked over the edge of the gap and Wels suddenly remembered why he’s in this pit. Well, he didn’t know why but he knew how. 

Cavalier had attacked him at his own base and killed him. Before Wels had a chance to know what had happened, Cavalier had attacked him again at the foot of Wels’s bed and knocked him out. 

The knight had woken up several on the journey to wherever Cavalier was taking him and every time Wels had escaped the clutches of his shadow, he was quickly overpowered and knocked out again. The only time Wels really remember waking up was when the Convex’s shadows had tried to fight Cavalier.

Keloid and Avarice had only lost because they kept mistaking Cavalier for Paladin. And Wels knows that they would never hurt their treasure if at all possible.

The summoner squints up at their shadow. Cavalier looks away from Wels for a moment to glance at something in the distance. The shadow looks back at Wels for a moment before dropping something into the room and disappearing from view. 

The knight watches the item land on the stone brick floor and carefully scoots over to it. It’s a golden carrot. Wels takes the gilded vegetable and hides it in his inventory, purposely ignoring the way his stomach growls at the sight of it. Eating it won’t fill his hunger enough to let him heal. It’s best to keep it until he gets a chance to heal.

There’re more footsteps from above and Puzzler’s face and wings cover the sky above. Wels has never met the shadow personally, but he’s heard tales of him. Wels forces himself to sit up straighter. He ignores the protests of his ribs.

The winged shadow smiles at the sight of Wels being trapped and turns to look at someone beside him, presumably Cavalier.

“Congratulations. You finished your first mission.” Puzzler glances back at Wels for a moment. “He’s a bit more roughed up than I would have liked, but he’s still usable.” Wels watches the shadow’s head move up and down, giving Cavalier a once over.

“You’re a bit banged up yourself.”

“There were some. . .  complications. . . while I was transporting Wels. I was attacked by two shadows. I don’t know whose they were, but they were neon blue instead of yellow and they almost seemed mutated, or something. I dispatch them though.”

Wels watches Puzzler’s eyes go wide. And a moment later, a smile creeps onto his face.

“Well well well,” The shadow turns to look at Wels. “things are going even better than planned. The vex and Paladin are gone. That means no one is going to come looking for you. So let’s make a deal, Wels. Your allegiance for power. This is a one time deal.”

Wels is not an idiot, and he knows a one-sided supernatural deal when he sees one. He glares up at the shadow.

“What do you think I am? A fool?”

Puzzler tuts at Wels. “Well, now you’re just making things more difficult. I didn’t want to have to do this, but the deal’s changed. Now, it’s your allegiance for your freedom.” He doesn’t seem upset about changing his offer in the slightest.

The shadow looks in a different direction than when he was speaking to Cavalier. 

“Tripwire, turn it on.”

The knight hears a lever being flipped and the stone brick walls around him and the floor beneath him begin moving. 

After a moment, he realizes the purpose of it all. Even without a pickaxe, Wels could break his way out of a normal prison eventually, but with the moving walls and floor, the knight truly was entirely trapped

Over the din, Wels barely hears Puzzler say, “Let’s see if you’ve changed your mind by tomorrow.”

He watches Puzzler fly away through the small gap. Once he’s certain that the shadow is gone, Wels pulls out the golden carrot and gnaws on the end of it, trying to make it last as long as possible. He’s going to be waiting a while.

He watches the sun pass over the top of his trap. As a sunbeam illuminates the shifting stone floor, Wels remembers where he’s seen a trap like this before. 

Xisuma had built one identical to it for the To Kill A Tango competition. The admin had only trapped Tango for around ten minutes before releasing his friend. 

Wels had gotten sick of the noise of pistons firing hours ago. He slowly watches the square of sunlight crawl across the floor and up the wall, eventually disappearing as the sky above turns from blue to lilac to navy to speckled black.

The knight carefully moves away from the wall to sit directly below the opening. He looks at the stars above and settles in for a long night of staring at nothing. 

---

The next morning, the machine is turned off and Puzzler lands on the lip of Wels prison. He stares down at the knight. 

“Well, are you going to take me up on my generous offer yet?” 

Wels swears that he sees one of the eyes on the shadow’s wings blink at him.

“Never in a thousand years.” 

Puzzler almost looks disappointed.

“That’s too bad. We’ll just have to try again later.” 

The shadow sounds like Wels is a puppy that hasn’t learned to roll over yet. The shadow takes off again, leaving Wels trapped and alone again.

---

The day seems to move even slower. It’s overcast, so Wels can’t even track the time by watching the sun. He’s avoided moving too much in an attempt to keep his injuries from getting worse. He’s too hungry and injured to do anything, so he watches the gray clouds wander across the sky.

That night it rains. Wels is soaked to the bone and shivering. But it’s something to drink. 

He resorts to taking his dented helmet off and supporting it between his feet to use as a makeshift rain catcher. It’s the only thing he’s had in days and it tastes like heaven. 

---

Puzzler doesn’t show up in the morning.

---

He does show up the next day, though. The shadow looks into the trap and sees Wels’s sorry state. 

His hair is matted and dirt after so many days without cleaning, and the pain in his ribs keeps him from even running his hands through it to try and fix it a little. Wels thinks the cuts may have gotten infected after he had been soaked from the rain. He’s starving and his vision his foggy from lack of sleep. The noise from his cage has prevented him from dozing for any more than the time between piston fires. 

His helmet is discarded in the corner of the room. The floor is covered in shreds of its red plume and its visor is sitting broken beside it. Wels had taken the front part of it on and off so many times that he had broken the part that connected it to the rest of the helmet. After that, Wels had torn apart his plume, simply because he had nothing else to do.

As soon as Puzzler deactivates the pistons, Wels sighs with relief and the noise stops and he falls asleep.

He quickly wakes up again as the walls and floor begin to move again. Wels blinks through the fog in his mind as he tries to remember where he is. A shape drops through the ceiling and lands at the knight’s feet. Feathered wings fill the remaining space in the room as Puzzler deigns to enter Wels’s cage.

The shadow leans forwards and tilts up Wels’s head so that the knight’s glazed eyes look into his. 

“Are you ready to make a deal yet?”

Wels doesn’t reply. He may be awake, but that doesn’t mean that he is there mentally.

Puzzler tuts and releases Wels’s jaw. He backs up as far as the small room will allow him and pulls three golden carrots out of his inventory. 

Golden carrots don’t smell like much, but after days without food, Wels’s nose is looking for anything that smells remotely edible. The light returns to the knight’s eyes as he realizes that a meal is at stake. 

Puzzler shakes the golden carrots. 

“Are you ready to make a deal yet?”

Wels gives Puzzler his answer by gritting his teeth and kicking at the shadow’s leg. He hisses as the motion pulls at his ribs.

Puzzler sighs. “You’re incorrigible. Let’s see if you’ll be more agreeable after three more days.”

Wels summons up the only noise he can think to make and growls at the shadow. Puzzler laughs and launches himself out of the trap, leaving Wels alone once again. 

---

That day it rains. He collects the water in his broken helmet again. It tastes like the nectar of the gods and gives him stomach something to do besides growl endlessly, though it still does that.

The water does sooth his throat and the chill wakes him up slightly. He can’t think. It takes too much effort, but he has to do something. He does the only thing he can think of. 

Deep breaths shift his ribs too much, so he hums with shallow, often breaths. The humming turns into a tune Wels recognizes. He starts mumbling the words until they eventually come to him.

He has to take a deep breath after nearly every line.

“Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

Are you still there inside my chest?

I've been so worried, you've been so still

Barely beating at all.”

The rain is still falling through the perfect square opening, but night must-have set. It’s much darker than it was before.

“Oh, oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while

Oh, oh, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you”

It’s thundering overhead. Wels has already song through the song several times. He stops singing and starts yelling. He has to take several breaths between each line, but it’s the only thing he can do.

“Hello, my old heart

It's been so long

Since I've given you away

And every day, I add another stone

To the walls I built around you

To keep you safe”

Between the piston fires, he can just barely hear the sounds of phantoms screeching. He distantly wonders if one of them could manage to fit through the hole into the prison.

“Oh, oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while

Oh, oh, I don't wanna be alone

I wanna find a home

And I wanna share it with you”

His hopes are dashed as phantoms scream in pain overhead. 

"Hello, my old heart

How have you been?

How is it being locked away?

Don't you worry, in there, you're safe

And it's true, you'll never beat

But you'll never break"

Wels’s throat gives out after hours of making noise for the first time in days.

But someone continues the song overhead. When Wels first cuts out, their volume drops and they sound hesitant.

“Nothing lasts forever

Some things aren't meant to be

But you'll never find the answers

Until you set your old heart free

Until you set your old heart free”

But as the song comes to a conclusion, they sing the final lines with wavering confidence.

“Hello, my old heart

Hello, my old heart

Hello, my old heart

Hello, my old heart”

It takes Wels clouded mind a long time to recognize the voice. It’s his own.

“Cavalier?”

His voice had broken halfway through the word.

There is a moment of silence before the shadow breaks it.

“Yes?”

“Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Puzzler instructed me to keep an eye on you.”

“While he tortures me?

“While we give you an ultimatum.”

Wels closes his eyes. He knows it won’t change anything. Not looking at the moving walls won't make them go away.

“You haven’t done anything.”

A pause.

“But I’m aiding and abetting.”

“You are. Why?”

“. . . What?”

Wels registers that Cavalier sounds confused.

“Why are you listening to him?”

“Because… I’m a knight. And my job is to serve the Empire.”

Wels chuckles weakly.

“A knight’s job is to serve the people, not the empire.”

“I am serving the people.”

Cavalier sounds certain.

“Really? Who are your people? Are you serving people, or are you serving Puzzler?”

Wels puts as much acid as he can gather into the shadow’s name. 

When Cavalier doesn’t answer, Wels laughs. It hurts his throat and ribs and everything. But to his sleep-deprived mind, it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“You aren’t a knight. You’re a drone! The moment he finds someone more useful, you’re going to be knocked down the totem pole!”

Wels collapses into a pile of painful giggles.

Eventually, he settles and regrets his fit of laughter. His dislocated ribs burned in his chest. The rain had stopped and Wels looks through the hole in the floor at the stars overhead.

“Why are you listening to him, Cavalier?”

The shadow doesn’t answer as quickly this time.

“Because he gave me something to fight for.”

“You don’t fight for a reason. You fight because you don’t know what else to do.”

“What do you fight for?”

“My friends, justice, my beliefs. Right now, I’m fighting for myself. Because if I lose this fight, I’ll lose myself as well.”

Cavalier was quiet for a moment. Wels then heard soft footsteps moving away from the opening to his prison. The pistons stop firing.

The last thing he thinks is that he did something right. Then he’s asleep.

---

Cavalier takes his hand off the lever and hopes that he won’t regret this. 

All of the redstone of the machine is exposed, so Cavalier carefully breaks through an unmoving wall of the piston tape and retrieves his summoner. Wels doesn’t make a noise as Cavalier picks him up in a bridal carry. 

The shadow sets off at a slow pace away from Wels’s prison. He has at least three days to find another hermit.

He’s not deflecting. Of course he’s not. He’s a loyal knight of the empire. He’s the knight of the empire. He has to protect his people.

But he also has to protect people.

---

The first shadow he finds is Killjoy. Cavalier refuses to give Killjoy a moment to speak. It’s night time on day 3 and he has until the sun rises to do something. The knight in his arms had slept the entire journey.

He carefully sets Wels down in the tall grass and sprints to the shadow. “I don’t have time to talk. Wels is hurt and you need to take care of him. I also need you to kill me.”

Killjoy’s golden eyes go wide. He pushes past the shadow and kneels beside the knight on the ground, taking in Wels’s injuries and the circles around his eyes. Cavalier sees Killjoy’s eyes get even wider, and then narrow.

“Who did this?” 

The shadow is bristling and speaking through clenched teeth.

When the shadow doesn’t speak up, Killjoy fronts on him. 

“Did you do this?”

Cavalier’s eyes are wide and fearful, but he answers truthfully.“Yes.”

Killjoy draws his sword.

“You better have had a good fucking reason.”

The shadow is shaking his rage.

Cavalier answers truthfully.

“I didn’t.”

Killjoy swings.

*Welsknight’s shadow was killed.