#and while I do feel a sense of dread any time Val is on screen
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I just wanna go on record and say that I don't hate Valentino as a character. I don't love him or anything, but he does his job in the story well, he's funny and he doesn't annoy me at all, so I don't hate him. Just thought I should make my oppinion known because the WAY I talk about him probably makes it seem like I hate him, but I just. Don't feel strongly about him at all. I honestly view him as more of a plot device then anything else, at least at this point in the series- I feel strongly about his RELATIONSHIPS and his ACTIONS, just not him as a character. Because hating a fictional character for doing morally bad things is pointless because they are not real people.
Also only vaguely related but hot take: if Alastor(or any of the overlords tbh but I'm singling out Alastor because he's the most popular) is your favorite character, you aren't allowed to make moral judgements on people who like Valentino. Like, no hate to any of y'all, Al is a good character and I honestly really like him, but he's also a fucking TERRIBLE PERSON who's treatment of Husk has been equated to Val's treatment of Angel SEVERAL times. As long as they aren't actively hurting people, you should just let Val fans do their thing.
#I talk about the Vees a LOT so I think its important that ppl know my feelings on this#I only hate characters who ANNOY me#and while I do feel a sense of dread any time Val is on screen#that's not because he's annoying#it's more like that build up you feel when you're bracing yourself cause you KNOW something bad is going to happen#and that's literally what you're SUPPOSED to feel when he's on screen. So. Yeah no I don't hate him with a burning passion-#fictional characters are not real ppl and Im sick of judging them as if they are#hazbin hotel#hazbin valentino#hazbin hotel valentino#valentino hazbin hotel
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Send 💞 + any dirty questions on anon and my muses will have to answer honestly || Accepting !
💞 + Vox, what's your dirtiest fantasy?
His dirtiest fantasy?
Vox absent-mindedly taps a claw against the bottom edge of his screen, lips pursed in a pensive frown. That's not an easy answer to figure out, especially since the adjective "dirty" can mean multiple things in that context. Depending on the person and on what they truly want to hear, to know.
Sexiest, naughtiest, most secret, taboo, inconfessable, most embarrassing, most dreaded, most desired.
His processors work fast, many intense scenarios flashing before his eyes. Some of them aren't even sex-related, not really, even if he finds them arousing. Most of them involved the same specific individual too, which isn't a surprise, but it's still beyond frustrating.
"Let's start this off with a small confession. I don't really watch Val's movies. The guy himself is amazing in bed, but...most of the stuff he makes sounds a little too fake to keep my attention. Between you and me? Most of those just bore the suit out of me, so they aren't usually worth my time."
He fucking hopes that Valentino won't hear him saying this, because otherwise he'll find himself having to sweet talk the other into forgiving him and then pampering him for a week non-stop.
"That's the general rule, but there are a few exceptions. Some of his earlier flicks are...quite captivating."
Less staged, more honest, less clichéd, more real. He remembers them almost with fondness, in a way, also because they date back to the days when their shared business was just starting to take off. Oh, the thrill of the first successes.
"I remember one in particular...It stuck with me because of how my hellish form is, pun not intended, wired."
He takes a sip from his mug, humming around the hot mouthful of coffee.
"When I first got down here, getting used to being like this," he gestures at his own body, "took a while. I had the potential to spread my 'sense' much further than any human ever could, and that potential grew more and more with the progress of technology. I eventually got the handle of it, but there were some moments when it became overwhelming. To the point that it took over my systems for hours."
The very first time had happened back when he and Alastor were still friends. He will never confess having spent half a day hooked onto the Radio Demon's signal just to keep himself grounded. And he wouldn't be caught double dead admitting how addictive the experience had been.
"Anyway, the point is...there's this one movie where the main guy is forced into this sort of sensory deprivation tank for a good while and then, while he's still in it, his tormentors force a series of different stimuli on him. All too intense for him to bear, all too sudden, to the point that ecstasy and agony felt the same. A short-circuit that was at the same time the most horrible death and the highest peak of bliss."
A digitalised hum leaves his speakers and he drums his fingers against the armrest, claws scrapping against it a little too hard for the gesture to be casual. Thinking about it is sending small sparks of literal electricity running along his wires, filling his guts with a pleasant buzzing.
"I could get high on that kind of control. Make someone go through what I've gone through, but knowing that I could reshape the way they perceive the world around them. They'd know only what I want you to know, and feel only what I want them to feel..."
His voice trails off, red liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth, making shi unhinged smirk look even more deranged. Oh, the things he could do to someone, given the chance, and the highs he himself could ride.
However, the darkest, most dangerous ideas that twirl in the back of his mind? Those will always remain his and only his to know.
#[ ic :: Vox ]#[ headcanons :: Vox ]#[ ooc :: mun's headcanons ]#suggestive tw#nsft tw#[[ Vox went back and forth among a few scenarios ]]#[[ there were a few others much freakier ]]#[[ where he was in a vulnerable position but ]]#[[ you won't catch him dead voicing THOSE xD ]]#[[ but yikes Vox you FUCKING PSYCHO ]]
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Dani visits the human world and notices some things that have changed since the last time she was there.
Phic Phight Prompt by @idiot-cheesehead-archenemy
Summary: What is there to say?
Dani slipped through the Fenton portal into the world of the living, and was immediately greeted by the feeling of cool air on her skin. She took a deep breath, hovering invisibly in the middle of the lab and slowly cherishing the sensation of fresh, living air filling her lungs.
The lab was… quiet. She frowned and spun on the spot, confirming that she was the only person there. The monitors lining the benches were dull, and there were no typical flashing lights or whirring electronics. The only illumination came from the portal. Dani didn’t know a lot about other people’s labs, but Vlad’s had always been full of soft noise, as machines hummed and blipped little tunes that had always soothed her back to sleep.
She pushed the memory away. Maybe the Fentons’ lab was just quiet when nobody was there? After all, it wasn’t like there were growing life forms that needed constant support and monitoring.
Still. It didn’t quite seem to fit the glimpses of this place that she’d had in the past, no matter how fleeting they’d been.
She phased through the ceiling, and the darkness was replaced by soft natural light that streamed through open windows. The glimpse of sunlight struck her with unexpected surprise, and Dani hissed in a sharp breath as her core hummed deep within her centre. She suddenly wanted nothing more than to fly out into the open sky, feeling the wind in her hair and the sun soaking into her skin for the first time in… wait, how long had it actually been?
She frowned, scrunching her face as she tried to track how long she’d been in the Ghost Zone. Surely it hadn’t been more than a few months, right?
Shaking her head to clear it, she glanced around the living room. Unease prickled down her spine, dampening her good mood, but Dani couldn’t quite place what was wrong. There was that same old couch and rug, a TV against one wall, and framed photos lining the mantelpiece.
She was surprised that Danny hadn’t appeared yet. Shouldn’t she have set off his ghost sense by now?
Dani’s heart pounded against her ribcage as she floated up again, phasing through the floor of Danny’s bedroom…
This was Danny’s room, right? No, she must have misjudged the layout of the home. It appeared to be a guest room, with a plain mattress devoid of blankets or sheets on the bed frame, and empty shelves lining the walls with a clear desk tucked in the corner. The curtains were drawn, but they were so threadbare that there was no problem seeing in the bright daylight that shone right through.
She phased through the wall, and ended up in a room with a decidedly teal colour scheme. The curtains were closed in here too but enough light filtered through to make out the details anyway. It was as neat as one of those pictures of perfect homes in magazines, and the framed high school diploma above the study alcove suggested that the room belonged to Jazz. Or… it had? The air felt stale and dusty, like nobody had been in here in a while. Dani drifted over to the dresser and ran her finger across the top, coming away with a fine layer of dust.
She pinched her lower lip between her teeth. Jazz had been pretty close to graduation when Dani had gone into the Ghost Zone, so maybe she was at university now?
Yeah. That made sense.
Unease settled more densely over her, and Dani phased through the wall again. She passed through the linen cupboard and a bathroom in desperate need of a good clean, and then found herself in what was obviously Danny’s parents’ room. This one finally appeared to be lived in, with the duvet crumpled and left unmade, and glasses of water on bedside tables. The curtains were open in here, and the air felt fresher and less dead.
Dani didn’t really want to poke around through Maddie and Jack’s stuff, so she phased back out into the hallway. She tilted her head, scowling as she counted the doors in the hallway.
There were exactly five — one for each bedroom, and one for the bathroom and the linen cupboard.
Dread dropped into her gut, like she’d suddenly swallowed a bowling ball, and Dani crept back into the first room. She pulled back the curtains, and dust motes swirled in the beams of sunlight as the room was fully illuminated. She stood in the middle of the carpet, turning in a slow circle and reaching out tentatively with her core.
There were slightly darker rectangles on the wall where there used to be posters of star charts and band tours, and when she tilted her head back, Dani could just make out the tiny silhouettes where glow in the dark stars had once been stuck to the ceiling and the white paint had faded around them.
She couldn’t sense any other ghosts beside herself. There wasn’t so much as a glimmer of residual spectral activity aside from the steady hum of the portal two floors beneath her.
“Where are you?” she whispered into the still emptiness.
Maybe… maybe she’d been gone longer than she’d thought. Maybe Danny had graduated and gone to college too. She didn’t think he’d have abandoned Amity Park, but maybe he’d moved out with Tucker, or finally gotten together with Sam or Valerie and was living with them? She didn’t really know much about his friends, but that seemed like the kind of thing they’d do, especially if Danny’s parents didn’t know his secret yet. He was probably just too far across town for her to sense.
Dani shot up through the ceiling and broke into the open air. The sunlight enveloped her with sudden life, and despite everything she smiled and gave a deep sigh. The Ghost Zone had been interesting, and it certainly helped to keep her core stable, but her human half delighted in the chance to soak in the energy of the mortal world once more.
Making sure that she stayed invisible, Dani floated above the town in a huge, lazy loop, feeling for any sign of Danny. There was a gentle breeze, and she revelled in the way it stirred her hair and brushed against her exposed skin.
By the time she’d returned to Fentonworks, the contentment of being in the human world had once again been overrun by anxiety.
Dani debated dropping by Valerie’s house, before realising that she didn’t actually know where it was. She scowled, but after a moment of thought began to fly across the town again, this time with a clear destination in mind.
She touched down in the parking lot behind the library, using invisibility to mask herself as she changed into her human form before walking through the front doors just like any normal kid. Nobody even glanced her way, and Dani sidled over to the row of thick computer screens that buzzed almost imperceptibly and played screensavers of what looked like photos of community events. She picked the screen furthest from the library desk, as far away from prying eyes as possible but when she nudged the mouse the screensaver was replaced with a screen prompting her to log in.
Dani frowned and looked toward the desk. She didn’t have a card, but she didn’t really want to sign up for one either. Didn’t you need ID for that kind of thing?
An older man sat down at a vacant computer close to hers, and Dani slid out of her seat and casually strolled to the bookshelf behind him. She pretended to be scanning the titles while he slowly used pointed index fingers to tap out his login details, and Dani carefully repeated the details in her mind as she grabbed a random book and headed back to her seat. Her screen had jumped back to the screensaver, and she doubted that she could log in while the man was already suing his account, so she surreptitiously turned to the back of her book and used a glowing fingertip to etch the man’s username and password into the bottom corner of the final page. She flipped back to the front cover again and raised an eyebrow at the yellow smiley face and the large self-help title in raised gold block letters.
Oh, well. Whatever.
Dani thumbed through her book, skimming through some of the tips in the organisational section while surreptitiously stealing glances at the man on the nearby computer. Her fingers almost itched with anticipation but she held herself steady.
It didn’t take him long to leave, and Dani could only hope that he hadn’t used up all of the allotted time on his account for the day. She flipped back to the details and typed them in, relief pulling a sigh from deep within her as the computer opened up to its main desktop page. The little timer in the top corner indicated that the account still had twenty minutes, so she pushed the book aside and opened the web browser straight away.
It only took a few seconds to log into Facebook, and Dani felt a twinge of guilt at the sheer amount of notifications. She was tempted to check them now, but the steady timer in the corner reminded her to focus and she clicked into the messenger webpage instead.
There were only two conversations — one from Danny, and the other from Valerie. Val’s were bolded and unread, but Danny’s…
Dani chewed her lip and brushed overlong bangs out of her face, trying to fight through the sudden heart-wrenching betrayal of abandonment.
Danny’s last message to her had been over a year ago, the day she left for the Ghost Zone.
She quickly opened the conversation, double checking that yes, he hadn’t messaged her since she’d left. It didn’t make sense. This was their only form of communication when she wasn’t in town! Did he really think so little of her, that he wouldn’t message her so that she’d have something to come back to? Was she really just a clone to him after all?
That last thought stopped her anger in its tracks. Danny would never think that.
She took a deep, grounding breath, and opened the unread messages from Valerie.
There wasn’t much there, but what Danielle did see turned her blood to ice.
How could I have known when neither of you ever told me?!
I’m sorry
Please, Danielle, I’m sorry!
I didn’t mean it
You have to know I didn’t mean it
I never would have done it if I’d just KNOWN!
I’m sorry
Dani swallowed, hard. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard but for a long moment she just stared at the screen.
She clicked back into her conversation with Danny. The last time he’d messaged her was only a few days before that frantic barrage from Valerie.
Just make sure you stay away from Skulker!
Frostbite will help you if you need it
Or Pandora
At the time, she was amused by his overprotectiveness. Yeah I know. See you later!
He’d responded cheerfully, but then had never messaged her again.
Okay
Stay safe!
I hope you have a blast
She read it again, and panic crept into her core. “No,” she breathed, and clicked back to Facebook’s main page, searching up Danny’s account.
The latest posts were birthday wishes from two months ago.
Dani scrolled down, numb horror cocooning her thoughts. The posts made by his friends and family all blurred together into a collage of soft wishes of peace and somber murmurs of sadness. Below his birthday wishes were a collection of posts from four months ago, and Dani’s hands trembled as she read every single one.
Sixteen months.
The ambient sounds of the library faded into static as she realised that Danny Fenton had been dead and buried for sixteen months.
She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat, and it was like fighting past hands that were clenched around her neck. Dani’s eyes burned and she dragged in a shallow breath, sharp with the strain of fighting back tears.
They slipped down her cheeks anyway, and she sniffed and took another strained breath, clicking into her messages once more.
She didn’t know what to say, but Dani knew she had to say something. It wasn’t right, to just leave him hanging like that.
Her hands clenched in her lap, and Dani rubbed the water off her face only to have more tears fall straight away. A sob clawed its way out of her throat and she pressed her fist over her mouth, muffling it as much as she could.
People were looking at her now, and she ducked her head and tried to hold everything in.
This wasn’t fair. How could she have let this happen? How could she have left him?
How could he have left her?
She clenched her teeth together. As tempting as it was to post on his page, she didn’t want to be public about it. What right did she have anyway, to freshly grieve him when he’d already been gone for so long? What right did she have to message his friends, who she barely knew, or his family, who she had never even met?! How could she drag them into her existence when it’d just dredge up the rawness all over again?!
Dani realised that she’d tensed her body so much that she was trembling with the effort and had forgotten to breathe. She took a shaky breath, and her tight muscles snapped into a loud, hiccupping cry.
Gritting her teeth again, tears streaming down her cheeks and dripping into her mouth and off her chin, Dani typed three words into the private message chat box.
I’m so sorry.
She closed the browser, and the screen went black and flicked back to the login screen as the timer hit zero.
Grief crashed into her with the force of a tsunami and Dani pressed her palms over her eyes and wept. Huge, gasping sobs tore from her chest, making her gut ache as her pulse roared in her ears.
“Miss? Are you okay?”
It was probably the stupidest question she’d ever heard, and Dani shook her head mutely, keeping her hands over her eyes as the tears continued to flood through her fingers and snot began to drip from her nose.
Someone nudged her shoulder. “Here,” the same voice offered, and Dani peeked through her fingers to see a tissue box. She squinted up at the librarian, and the tears kept flowing like a tap that had been left running.
Dani pressed her lips together and nodded once, grabbing a handful of tissues and immediately burying her face in them as she was hit by a fresh wave of grief. She knew that eventually she’d have to move, she’d have to stop crying and take the next step, but for now all that mattered was the way her head throbbed with every sob and how her eyes burned hotter and hotter the more she cried. She couldn’t breathe deeper than short, shallow gasps, and every time she tried to think, all she could picture was Danny’s face and her world came crashing down again.
It took her a long time to stop crying, but when she did she was left staring at the pile of soaking tissues next to the keyboard as the bright halogen lights made her eyes sting.
She had no clue what to do now.
He was dead, and she didn’t even get to say goodbye.
#Danny Phantom#Phic Phight 2021#Phic Phight#idiot-cheesehead-archenemy#lexiepiper#I should probably tag this as angst so yeah#angst#This fic was an emotional journey to write and maybe I'm being a bit transparent but I hope you enjoy it
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Episode 6 - Open Eyes TRANSCRIPT
[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.]
AUTOMATED VOICE
Please state your message.
[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]
VAL
Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.
[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]
[PHONE BEEP.]
[EXT. OUTSIDE OF THE BOOKSTORE.]
[THERE ARE FAINT WIND NOISES IN THE BACKGROUND.]
IRENE
[MUTTERS] I hope this recording still sounds okay.
Other than the cracked screen, I haven’t run into any issues with my phone since I dropped it due to a…mishap, in my search. I can probably try to get the screen replaced at some point, but Aiden was right about backing up my recordings.
I’m not sure how I would react if I lost all of them. I mean, do I even need to keep them? I don’t usually go back and listen to them, but…I mean, I guess I have an emotional attachment to them.
It’s fine for now. I’ll look into saving them when I get home. Right now, I’m at the Open Eyes Bookstore. I know I’ve mentioned coming here before, but this is the first time I’m actually here.
I’m hoping there might be something here about the thing I saw in the woods. I have sort of a theory going right now—and okay, sure, I don’t have much evidence, but here me out.
Bernard Kelly Valencia, the guy who used to live in my house, hung out with the previous owner of this shop a lot. They always seemed dedicated to some sort of mysterious research, right? I think they might have known more about this creature than I do, and while Dorothy Wood passed away, her bookstore is still standing. There might be something in there that explains all of this.
I’m looking through the window right now. There’s nobody in there but a young girl with a cane. To be fair, I think they’re about to close. I came here a bit late.
Well, guess there’s nothing left but to go in.
[A BELL CHIMES AS IRENE OPENS THE SHOP DOOR. “I DO” BY ROSEMARY ROMANO IS FAINTLY PLAYING FROM A RADIO OR SPEAKER IN THE BACKGROUND.]
PHOEBE
[FROM A SLIGHT DISTANCE] Oh, hello! Welcome.
IRENE
Hey there.
[THE DOOR CLOSES. THERE’S FOOTSTEPS, ACCOMPANIED BY THE TAP OF A CANE, AS PHOEBE WALKS OVER.]
PHOEBE
[IN RANGE] Welcome, um, welcome to Open Eyes! I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?
IRENE
Nope, I’m new in town.
PHOEBE
Oh, um, neat! That’s neat. Um, let me know if you need help?
IRENE
Got it. [A BEAT.] Dorothy Wood used to own this shop, right?
PHOEBE
[SHE SWALLOWS.] Yes. I’m, uh, actually her granddaughter.
I’m Phoebe Wood.
IRENE
[TAKEN ABACK] Oh, that’s cool. Uh, hi. I’m Irene. It’s nice to meet you.
PHOEBE
Oh, the pleasure’s mine. [A BEAT.] I mean, uh, nice to meet you, too. [AWKWARDLY] Yeah.
If you’re here for Dorothy, then I’m really sorry, but she’s not alive anymore. I’ve taken over the shop since, though, so if you need to talk to the owner, that’s—uh—that’s me!
IRENE
I knew that, don’t worry. You’ve been running this shop by yourself, though?
PHOEBE
[SHE GIVES A SHAKY BREATH.] For the most part, yes. It’s, um, it’s been fun! I think. [beat] I mean, really, really stressful, because I haven’t hired anyone else yet because I don’t even know how to run a— [SHE STOPS HERSELF.] It’s fine. It’s fun!
IRENE
It sounds like a lot, though.
PHOEBE
I’m okay! It’s okay, I promise. Sorry.
IRENE
It’s really nice in here, though. It’s cozy, I guess in the best word?
PHOEBE
[SINCERE] Thank you. Lots of the decor is left behind by my grandma. People, er, they came here a lot before she died because she made it feel like a home.
[REASSURING] Business is still good, though, don’t worry. Still, I try my best to take care of the plants she left behind; Make sure the shop still feels like a home. I mean, for me, it is a home—I live in her old apartment on the second story. [GROWING DISTANT] I want to start to incorporate more things I like, but…it feels too soon, I guess.
[COMING BACK TO HERSELF] Sorry, I’m so sorry. [MUTTERS] Jeez, I was rambling.
What can I help you find today?
IRENE
I’m… [HESITANT] Okay, this is going to sound really weird, but do you have any books about…monsters?
[A PAUSE.]
PHOEBE
[CONFUSED] You mean, mythology? Or, horror books?
IRENE
No, not that.
[A FEAR LINGERS UNDER HER VOICE.] I saw something in the forest. It was big, and it came up from the ground, and it saw me without any eyes. I know you might not know what I’m talking about. If you decide to just kick me out of your store, that’s fine. [DESPARATE] I need to know what I saw, though.
…do you think you have any books to help with that?
PHOEBE
[QUIET] Oh.
[SHE REALIZES, THEN, IN SURPRISE] Oh! Right. You, uh—
[MUMBLING TO HERSELF] Well, heh, she said that—I don’t know if —
IRENE
[OVERLAPPING, CONCERNED] Hey, if you want me to leave, I can—
PHOEBE
[CUTTING IRENE OFF] Follow me.
IRENE
...okay?
PHOEBE
I— [SHE FORCES A NERVOUS CHUCKLE.] I think there’s something in the backroom you should see.
IRENE
Oh. Okay, sure.
[THERE’S FOOTSTEPS, ALONG WITH PHOEBE’S CANE, AS THEY GO TO THE BACKROOM. PHOEBE OPENS THE DOOR. SHE FLICKS THE LIGHT SWITCH SEVERAL TIMES.]
PHOEBE
Come inside.
[THEY ENTER THE ROOM. PHOEBE CLOSES THE DOOR, AND THE BACKGROUND SONG FADES TO A STOP.]
IRENE
[ASTOUNDED] What is all this?
PHOEBE
My grandma’s research.
[PHOEBE WALKS FURTHER INTO THE ROOM TO BEGIN SEARCHING.]
IRENE
There’s so much of it, though. That’s a hell of a lot of reading material.
PHOEBE
[ALMOST BITTER] Well, it would be if all of it actually meant something!
IRENE
What do you mean?
PHOEBE
[GUILTY] Oh, sorry. It’s just that most of this doesn’t make any sense.
When my grandma died, she left me a letter where she pretty much left me the shop. She said that this room right here was the most important room—that all of the information here was vital, and needed protecting, and that I should only let very specific people see it.
You’re uh—heh—you’re actually the very first person I’ve brought back here.
IRENE
I guess that makes me special?
PHOEBE
[DREADFUL] Please don’t say or do anything to make me regret this. I’m still not even sure if it’s a good idea to be showing you—or, or anyone—all of this.
IRENE
Sorry. [A BEAT.] What did she research?
PHOEBE
I’m not quite sure.
She was always so secretive about all of it. I mean, I saw her working on it for my whole life, but I never even saw this room until after she died.
Don’t get me wrong, I tried asking about it, especially when I was a kid and I was living with her. She told me it would put me in danger if I knew about it, though.
[UPSET] Now, she actually wants me to know about it, but she’s not even here to explain it to me.
[SHE IS HEARD FLIPPING THROUGH SOME PAPERS.]
PHOEBE
Most of this stuff is blank, or it’s written in a way I can’t understand. I think she wrote some of it in secret codes?
IRENE
[CONFUSED] That’s…odd.
PHOEBE
I’m able to read some of it, though. She wrote some things in the format of actual books, so it’s easier to read. Even then, though, none of the things she’s talking about make any sense to me. I mean, it’s all almost like some fantastical story.
[WORRIED] I’ve tried to find some sort of starting point, like a “how-to” guide. Between running the shop and everything else in my life, though, I can hardly sort through the surface level things, let alone process any of the information.
IRENE
Sounds like quite the situation.
PHOEBE
[SHE SNORTS.] That’s one way to put it.
I’m sorry. I think there’s got to be something in here about forest creatures, though.
[SHE GRUNTS IN PAIN AS SHE SITS ON THE FLOOR TO BEGIN SORTING THROUGH A BOX.]
PHOEBE
Could you please look through that stack of books over there?
IRENE
Sure.
[IRENE WALKS OVER AND BEGINS LOOKING THROUGH A STACK OF JOURNALS. SHE IS HEARD TURNING PAGES AS SHE SPEAKS.]
IRENE
Let’s see…The Feast? [VAGUELY UNCOMFORTABLE] Mm, no. I’m not sure what’s going on there, actually.
Um…? [THEN, TO PHOEBE] This one is just called Folk.
PHOEBE
Oh, um, trying looking through it? That might be one of the ones with pictures.
[IRENE LOOKS THROUGH THE BOOK.]
IRENE
I think…wait, yeah, this looks right. I think this might have something.
PHOEBE
Oh, that’s good! Does it, I mean, does it have the thing you saw?
IRENE
Hmm, well, it has lots of illustrations of the forest [SLIGHTLY GROSSED OUT] and also one of a dead rabbit. For whatever reason. It’s a starting place.
[IRENE CLOSES THE BOOK.]
PHOEBE
Oh, okay! Feel free to take it. I, um, I mean, please return it. I can’t charge you for it because technically it’s not part of the store, but just make sure you give it back when you’re done. I don’t want to lose any of my grandma’s research.
IRENE
You have my word. Thank you, er, Phoebe, was it?
PHOEBE
Yup! Thank you for remembering, and just, please promise not to tell anyone.
[SHE PAUSES, THEN, MUMBLES IN REGRET] Hnng, I, uh, shouldn’t have sat on the floor.
IRENE
Do you need help?
PHOEBE
Please.
[THE FLOORBOARDS CREAK AS IRENE HELPS BRING PHOEBE TO HER FEET.]
IRENE
And here’s your cane.
PHOEBE
[GRATEFUL] Thank you so much. I have to go close up shop for now, but, let me know what you think of the book! Hopefully at least some of it makes sense to you.
IRENE
[TWINGED WITH DOUBT] Let’s hope.
[PHONE BEEP.]
[RECORDING ENDS.]
[INT. IN IRENE’S CAR, OUTSIDE OF THE STORE.]
[IRENE CLEARS HER THROAT BEFORE READING ALOUD.]
IRENE
The Forest Folk cannot bring harm, because they are made of harm. Without pain, without suffering, without death, they would not exist. They know that pain lives everywhere. In the streams, the trees, the sky, the earth. They know the natural cycle of pain as it comes and goes.
Because of this, they know no need to harm others, as nature will run its course without the assistance. No, the Folk do not bring harm—they collect it. They absorb all of that pain, gathering it all into one final resting place beneath the ground.
The Folk know nothing, but they know everything, and more than anything, they understand. They cannot give you answers, as they do not speak, but ask them about what it is you seek and you shall soon find it.
They will not ever ask you to join them, but it is advised you never do.
[SHE SIGHS DEEPLY AS SHE FINISHES READING.]
IRENE
And that’s pretty much one of the only coherent passages.
[SHE FANS THROUGH THE BOOK.]
IRENE
There’s illustrations, and blank pages, and special code, like Phoebe mentioned. The stuff I do understand seems to go back to pain and death a lot, but the “Folk” it’s describing seem to be peaceful.
[A LONG PAUSE.]
IRENE
[BAFFLED, TINGED WITH AN ANGER OF SORTS] What the fuck?
[PHONE BEEP.]
[RECORDING ENDS.]
AUTOMATED VOICE
Today’s quote is: “You are not wrong who deem / That my days have been a dream; / Yet if hope has flown away / In a night, or in a day, / In a vision, or in none, / Is it therefore the less gone? / All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream.”
Edgar Allan Poe in “A Dream Within A Dream,” 1849.
[THE AUTOMATED VOICE STARTS TO SLOW DOWN, BECOMING SLIGHTLY DISTORTED. THE PAUSES GROW BETWEEN EACH WORD AS IT BECOMES SLOWER AND SLOWER.]
AUTOMATED VOICE
She is listening.
We are sorry.
[THEME MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]
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Slice of Life
Author's Note: This fic is inspired by @altruistic-skittles and their Slice of Life Sanders Sides AU, which can be found here. All worldbuilding credit goes to them, I only stitched the ideas together in writing.
Author's Note #2: Due to Tumblr restrictions, the story was split into three chapters. Next chapter will be posted on Sunday.
Honorary mentions: Keep your eyes peeled for @themicrosoftnerd and @crofters-jam , who make an appearance in this chapter!
Shoutout to Toby, who is part of the AU but sadly doesn't get a mention in the story.
This work will also be posted to Ao3 in the near future.
Link to my Ao3 profile will be at the end! Tag list will be in the replies! Enjoy!
Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3
***
"Virgil~"
It's barely above a whisper, but he groans anyway and sinks into the pillow like dead weight. He swears he hears someone giggle just above him and he feels warmth through his chest.
"Virgil, honey," he feels a hand on his shoulder that gives it more of a gentle nudge than a shake, "get up. You'll miss breakfast."
The prospect of waking up just makes him settle down even deeper under the comfy blankets.
Truth be told his brain had probably kicked into gear a good while ago, but once the dreaded feeling of expectation that his alarm would be blaring into his ears any minute had passed without coming to fruition, he hadn't questioned any of it and simply gone back to sleep.
He doesn't know if he's actually gotten any rest since, but the fact that his mind is a foggy blank space probably alludes to a yes.
The mattress dips beside him and the hand on his shoulder resumes its shaking—definitely a shake this time.
"Viiirgiiil~" they say, stretching the word like it's a song lyric, and he can hear the smile in their voice even through his sleep clouded mind. "Wakey wakey, sleepyhead~"
He groans again—though it comes out more like a whine—and tries to wiggle out of the hand's reach. There's another giggle, and this time he grudgingly opens his eyes just enough to muster a glare, but even that's half-hearted and reduced useless when the offending figure leans down and plants a kiss on the tip of his nose.
He laughs softly, reaches up to rub at his eyes, and the steady warmth in his chest flares when the source of said warmth laughs back, beautiful and genuine and music to his ears even after nearly two decades of hearing it every day.
"Five more minutes?" he tries, raspy with morning voice, but even as he's saying it he's already sitting up and stretching his stiff muscles.
His answer is a peck on the cheek this time, and he can see Patton's entire face break into a smile out the corner of his eye when he leans into the touch.
That reminds him, their anniversary's coming up. He makes a mental note to get something ready in advance, even if that won't be for a few months now.
"What time is it...?" he mumbles and reaches for his phone, effectively draping himself across the bed.
"Kids are already up and about." Patton offers as he rises from the bed and goes to open the curtains.
"Wow, I outlasted Roman's beauty sleep? That's a first." he squints through the sudden flood of light and gapes at his phone screen until he's sure his eyes might roll out of their sockets. "Breakfast?? Pat, it's nearly noon."
Patton gives him a sheepish look, though his smile doesn't falter. "Brunch then? We've all had breakfast except for you and Ro—Lolo and I already had pancakes. Roman thought I batter go wake you before you turned into Sleeping Beauty—"
He snorts, both at the pun and the implication; sounds like his eldest alright.
"—and he wanted to make his own breakfast. I'll go get some leftovers ready for you, yeah?"
"If there are any leftovers..." he mumbles under his breath, before it's silenced by another kiss.
"You know Roman is too worried about his physique for that and Logan doesn't approve of pancakes in the morning. I barely got him to eat his share." Patton smiles, and it's crooked and beautiful and the sunlight beaming through the windows brings out his freckles and Virgil gets this inexplicable urge to kiss every single one of them. "Take your time getting ready, you haven't been sleeping much for the past week and I don't want you falling asleep at the table again."
He chuckles, standing up and stretching some more; he can hear the birds chirping downstairs when Patton opens the door on his way out.
Someone that sounds suspiciously like his son is talking more loudly than is necessary on the phone and he swears it's a habit he only picked up after they moved; he must've stayed up late and gotten friendly with that Remy kid at some point, because Virgil knows his 'beauty sleep' is more of an excuse to sleep in rather than an actual concern with beauty.
On second thought, knowing Roman, it's probably both.
"Oh! I almost forgot," he hears his husband, who sounds like he's halfway down the stairs, "Thomas told me yesterday that his car broke down!"
Again? He should probably ask Emile for some lucky crystals or whatever he's into these days, their soft-hearted neighbour could sure use it. That man has such a knack for trouble that sometimes Virgil finds himself wondering how he hasn't burned down his house yet.
Would be a shame too, apparently it's been in the family for generations.
"Do you mind if I drive them to the theatre today? Ro agreed to extra practice hours and his whole group of friends wants to come see how the big play's coming along!!"
Of course he did, and of course they do.
"Nah, I'll do it." he says, even though that's the last thing he wants to do today. Not that his other options are much more exciting; he mostly just feels like sleeping the whole day through. "I've got a shift in about three hours anyway, might as well waste a bit of gas."
"You're working? I thought you had weekends free??"
He pulls out some sweats and a simple black T and heads to the bathroom to turn on the shower. His work clothes are already laid out for once, look at him being productive.
"It's just a small shift, Pat, I took it up so I could have less overtime, it's a compromise."
He can hear the underlying tone beneath the innocent question, the silent implication that if his boss is screwing him over Patton can and will physically fight them, because for all his fun loving self he's also dreadfully overprotective.
He knows Patton's not convinced, but he's also learned that Patton still puts a lot more trust in him than he ever expects to receive, and just like that Virgil suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of belonging.
He loves this kind, beautiful, incredible, perfect man that he shares his life with so much he vaguely wonders if he's legally, ethically and morally allowed to marry him again.
Patton laughs again, and so does Virgil when he realizes he's spoken out loud.
How did he ever get so lucky?
***
Patton walks in on the sight of his eldest son pacing a hole into the kitchen floor, a piece of toast in one hand and a bunch of disorderly papers in the other, with his phone squished between his shoulder and his ear.
"Right?! I would make for a brilliant prince!!" he tries to get out between a mouthful of toast and jam, flailing the papers around like they were the ones who didn't give him the part. "Thomas is totally underestimating my incredible acting skills, the audition I gave was practically flawless!!"
"Or perhaps your ego has finally rendered all your other brain functions useless and you are living under the misguided assumption that you are better than anyone at everything you do."
"Nobody asked you to speak, Microsoft Nerd!"
Logan doesn't even lift his eyes from the book he's reading. As a matter of fact he flips the page over, looking utterly and purposefully disinterested in the tantrum of his older brother, who is currently at risk of choking on his food if the fact that his entire face looks like it's gotten sunburn is any indication.
"No, but you are yelling rather loudly and I am trying to enioy a quiet morning lecture." he adds, manoeuvring his cup from its place on the table to take a sip of tea without breaking the narrative he's currently engrossed in. "Not that anyone ever gets any peace and quiet in this household when you're home."
"I beg your pardon?!"
"Play nice, kiddos." Patton chides as he walks in, opening the fridge to take out a rather large stack of pancakes and some orange juice. "And Roman, quit talking with your mouth full."
Roman quietly mutters something like 'gimme a sec Val' before dropping the papers—which Patton assumes are pages of his current script if the neon highlighter marks he catches a glimpse of are anything to go by—into a messy pile on the counter, a tactful distance from the sink.
He even makes a show of swallowing to prove that he's not in any life threatening situation before propping the phone right back to his ear.
"Sorry, my dumb brother interrupted me—"
"I'm not the one actively trying to fail math after the semester's hardly begun." there's suddenly a definite edge to Logan's tone and he's giving his brother a stare so cold it's a wonder his head doesn't turn into a block of ice.
Patton knows that tone; if there's anything his little Lolo is insecure about it's his intelligence, no matter how many times he or Virgil assure him that he's not only the smartest one in the family but also one of the smartest in his school. A work friend of Virgil's they invited over once even called him a prodigy, and that must mean something coming from a therapist.
Unfortunately, Roman's impulse of speaking with absolutely no filter is just as immovable, which means their children have raised the term of sibling rivalry to a whole new level.
Patton decides to stop the argument before it's begun.
"Boys." they clamp their mouths shut immediately, as he knew they would, but he places his hands on his hips just for a little more authority. "What did I just say?"
'Play nice?' Roman more asks than answers at the same time that Logan lets out a tight 'Play nice.'
"Now, what's the right thing to do?"
They sigh in tandem and speak together. "Sorry dad." When he gives them a pointed look they share a glance and give in, both their shoulders dropping the tension simultaneously.
"I'm sorry I called you dumb, I didn't actually mean it..." there's genuine emotion in most of his eldest's apologies, because most of the time he really does blurt out his first thought without considering it and realizes it when his head's in the clear.
"I didn't mean to undermine your creative skills or make you feel inadequate in any way." his youngest is not the most in touch with emotions, but he is smart enough to know when an apology is in order and to differ between a sincere and insincere one.
He gives them a nod of approval and goes back to putting together a late breakfast, plopping the pancakes into the microwave and reaching into a cupboard for a clean glass. Logan likewise resumes his reading as if nothing had happened; Roman is the only one who settles down, picking up his conversation at a more acceptable volume.
As the pancakes are heating up he opens another cupboard door and frowns.
"Have any of you seen the honey?"
"Mhm?" Roman glances over as he chews around another mouthful of toast with too much jam on it. "Oh, it's over there."
Patton turns to the area he'd vaguely gestured to and spots the bee shaped bottle peeking out from behind a very familiar jar of jelly, both items that have long become staples in the kitchen due to Logan's surprising demands. The cap of the jar is undone, and as he swiftly puts it back on his dad reflexes kick in before he can think better of it.
"Who left the jar open?"
The microwave decides to beep at the same moment that Roman abruptly freezes, sticky fingers in his mouth, and he immediately turns to his brother. Logan puts it together in a matter of nanoseconds and practically leaps out of his seat, book tumbling off his lap.
"Is that my Crofter's?!?"
Seeing that not even his acting skills can provide an escape, Roman spreads his arms in a shrug. "Uh, do you own the company?"
It's difficult to get Logan truly riled up, but Roman does have a habit of biting off more than he can chew. Literally this time.
"You know it's family owned—that's not the point, Roman, it's my food!!"
"Oh come on, you have like fifty jars, you can share."
"You didn't even ask me if I'm willing to share!!"
"I was hungry!!!"
"Dad!!!"
Patton manages to suppress a sigh, but only just. He shoves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his nose for the briefest moments.
Honestly, he loves his children unconditionally, but sometimes, on occasion—and he would never in a million years ever admit this to anyone except maybe Virgil—sometimes he loves them a lot more when they're in separate rooms.
On separate floors.
With their doors closed.
***
My Ao3 profile.
#my_writing#sanders sides#virgil sanders#patton sanders#logan sanders#roman sanders#anxiety sanders#morality sanders#logic sanders#creativity sanders#deceit sanders#remy sanders#moxiety#romantic moxiety#platonic lamp#familial lamp#slice of life au#emile picani
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Both Worlds
Title: Both Worlds
Pairing: Mermaid!Reader x Mermaid!Dean
Word Count: 5,338
Warnings: Angst, sea monsters, my interpretation of the mermaid world
Summary: Dean finally tells Y/N to leave, which leads to some major discoveries.
A/N: This is part six of the Back to the Start series. Please let me know what you think, and enjoy! Also, this contains another ship at the end, so I’ll put that in the tags instead of the warnings so it’s not spoiled.
x
Back to the Start Masterlist
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_______________
Dean had been pacing his bedroom for the full hour that Y/N had been in the bathroom. He’d paced the whole time she was in the shower, the whole time she’d brushed her teeth and hair, and the whole time that she’d sang songs and danced around the tiny bathroom. The floor practically had a groove in it by the time she opened the door and stepped out, a smile on her face.
“Morning, Dean,” she said, pushing up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Are you gonna shower now that I’m out? I can wait to go on my swim if you wanted to go down to the beach with me.”
He shook his head and gave her a tight smile. “I’ll probably shower tonight. I’m gonna work on the house today.”
“Oh, okay,” Y/N replied. Her smile faltered for a second before returning in full force. “Did you want to talk about last night? We can wait till later if you want, it doesn’t matter to me.”
Hesitant, Dean nodded. Putting this off wouldn’t do any good.
Y/N’s smile faded slightly when she realized he was dreading this conversation, but he didn’t blame her. After all, he was about to chase her off. He’d decided sometime between one in the morning and when she woke up that he couldn’t tell Y/N who he was. Not only would it make her angry that he’d lied to her, but then she’d expect him to go back home with her. He couldn’t go back—everything in her world would be a constant reminder of the family that he’d lost. Plus, the other mermaids would expect him to be some kind of strong, mythical leader, when in reality, he just wanted to be left alone. The only person he’d ever want to spend time with was Y/N, but surely she had responsibilities and friends of her own. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to hole away with him for the rest of her life.
“What’s going on, Dean?” Y/N asked. She perched on the edge of his bed and looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. “You’re not sick or something, are you? We’ve watched a lot of movies with sick people lately.”
“I’m not sick. Listen, Y/N,” Dean began, running a hand through his hair. “You can’t stay here with me anymore.”
She didn’t respond for a moment, but she stopped him when he opened his mouth to further explain. “Dean, you know that I love you, right?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips. Dean nodded in response. “And I love you, which is why I’m telling you this: You have a terrible sense of humor.”
Sighing, Dean paced for a second, avoiding meeting Y/N’s eyes all the while. After a few moments, he stopped and faced her. “Y/N, I’m not kidding. You really can’t stay here. This isn’t some kind of joke. It’s just… It’s better if you leave.”
“Are you— Are you really kicking me out? You really don’t want me here? You just said you loved me! And you keep telling me I can stay however long I want and that you want me to stay!”
Dean cringed. He didn’t realize how poorly this was going to go until now. All the late-night thinking in the world couldn’t have prepared him for this.
“No, that’s not what I meant, Y/N. I—“
“You didn’t mean it when you said you loved me? You didn’t mean it when you asked me to stay?” she asked. Her voice cracked and when Dean looked down at her, Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears. “But I really thought that…”
He sighed and rubbed his face, trying to think of how he could get Y/N to leave without hurting her even more. He hated feeling like he was breaking her heart. He really did love her, which was exactly why he needed to let her go.
Slowly, Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, ignoring how Y/N scooted away from him so their legs wouldn’t touch. “I love you more than anything, Y/N. That’s why I need you to leave,” he explained.
“You want me to leave because you love me,” Y/N repeated. She looked shocked and confused, maybe even a little angry, and Dean swallowed thickly. There was no way that this conversation could get any worse. “Dean, that doesn’t even make sense. You’re not making any sense. Let’s go downstairs and get something to eat, okay? We can talk about this later when you’re feeling better. I just… I don’t think you’re thinking straight right now.”
Not bothering to acknowledge what she’d just said, Dean blurted out, “I’m leaving, Y/N.” It was a complete lie, of course, but in the moment, Dean couldn’t think of anything else that would convince her to leave. “I’m moving away from the ocean and I’m not coming back. It’s time for you to go back to your family and your friends.”
“I’ll go with you, Dean! I can’t imagine living without you, and we can figure out a way for me to live without the saltwater. I’m sure that if we pour a bunch of salt in the bathtub it’ll be similar. I can drink saltwater, too! Where are you moving to? When are you moving?”
“It doesn’t matter where or when I’m moving or how many ways you can get saltwater there, Y/N! You can’t go with me,” Dean growled, standing suddenly. “I’m not taking you away from the ocean and your life, and that’s the end of this discussion!”
Y/N flinched, fear written all over her face. He hadn’t meant to yell, but it had clearly done the trick. Still, Dean could’ve sworn that his heart had snapped in two when she’d wrenched away from him.
“Fine,” Y/N whispered. Her voice wobbled and Dean felt his heart break even more, if that was even possible. “If that’s how you really feel, then I’ll go. I’m sorry for whatever I did to upset you.” She stood quietly, then left the room without another word.
Dean stood motionless in the room for several minutes, trying to ignore his regret. He didn’t know what to do next, at least until the sound of the screen door slamming jolted him into action. He couldn’t let Y/N leave without warning her that the sea demon may be waiting for her. If Dean knew anything about the monster he’d faced years ago, it was that it would wait long and hard for its prey to come back. The least he could do was help her find another way around it, or maybe take her out to deeper waters in the rickety boat he’d had since he moved in.
Now filled with worry, Dean sprinted down the stairs and out the front door, stopping only for a split-second on the porch to look around for Y/N. She was already at the foot of the stairs that led to the beach, but when Dean opened his mouth to call after her, no sound came out. He was just about to try again when he saw a flash of black in the waters near the shore. His heart leapt into his throat and his stomach churned.
It’s out there. She can’t go. She’ll die trying to fight that off on her own, he thought.
“Y/N! Stop! Wait!”
Y/N didn’t turn around as she halted near the edge of the waves and peeled off her clothes, then waded into the water until her tail appeared and she could swim.
There was no other option. As he ran down the stairs and onto the beach, Dean pushed down the cold tendrils of fear that wrapped around his heart and filled his mind, telling him to stop and that Y/N would be even angrier with him for hiding this from her.
She won’t let you save her. She’ll be so angry she won’t even let you help her.
Shaking his head, Dean frantically shed his pajamas and dashed into the waves. The water splashed around his legs, soaking into his bare skin as he waded deeper and deeper. Y/N had disappeared from sight, but as soon as he was deep enough and his tail formed, Dean ducked under the water and saw her only a few yards ahead of him.
He hadn’t been in the ocean for years, and the strong currents took him by surprise. His tail wasn’t strong enough either, and suddenly Dean found himself swimming in the opposite direction that he needed to go. Frustrated, he mumbled a curse and pumped his tail harder, frantically redirecting himself.
Up ahead, Y/N was swimming as hard as she could towards the drop-off. Dean could see the dark tentacles of the demon in the distance, but he knew that it could move quickly, quicker than any mermaid ever could. It was only a matter of time before Y/N was within its reach. So, he pushed harder. The only think he could think about was catching up with Y/N.
“Y/N! Y/N, wait!”
The sound of his voice coming to her so clearly through the water must have shocked her, because Y/N stopped and looked up at the water’s surface.
She’s searching for a boat, Dean thought. He grimaced when Y/N’s gaze finally fixated on him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, knowing well enough that she’d hear him just fine. She stayed motionless, barely even blinking as she stared at him from up ahead. Dean didn’t know what to think. “I know what you’re thinking, but—”
“Do you, Dean?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. “Do you really? Because all this time I thought I knew exactly what you were thinking, but you just got through telling me that I was wrong about everything.”
Dean swallowed thickly and glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were still far enough away from the monster to be safe. “Y/N, I didn’t…” He trailed off, closing his eyes and taking a shuddery breath. “I hate being in the ocean. I hate being in open water like this. I never wanted you to find out about me because I didn’t want to come back here.”
“Why? Why do you hate it, Dean? Why didn’t you want to come back? Because clearly you were made to be here,” Y/N snapped.
When Dean opened his eyes, her arms were crossed over her chest. She was pissed, but he knew she had a good reason to be.
“Because my family died out here. They died because of that thing,” Dean nodded at the monster, “which is exactly why I came back. You can’t make it past that thing. You’ll die trying.”
Y/N had turned to look at the monster when Dean had indicated it was there, and she was still staring at it when Dean had finished talking. When she faced Dean again, her eyes were wide with fear. She was pale as a sheet, and he realized that she was remembering the last time she’d seen the demon.
“I’ve faced it too, Y/N. That’s what my family and I were up against when they…” He swallowed his next words, not wanting to even think them.
“You’re Dean Winchester,” Y/N murmured, her fearful expression now tinged with amazement. “All this time… You didn’t want to tell me this? Even though you knew I’d heard all the stories?”
“Of course I wanted to tell you, but it was better if you thought I was just a story,” Dean replied. “That way you wouldn’t try and convince me to come back. I thought it was safer that way, but when I realized what you’d been running from when you ended up on my beach, and then when I realized it was probably still out here… I couldn’t let you face it alone. I tried to chase you away because I didn’t know how you’d react if you found out I was lying, but I love you too much to keep up the lie.”
A small smile formed on Y/N’s lips. “So you do love me.”
Dean nodded, smiling a little himself. “I do.”
“Well, then let’s get rid of this thing and then you can go home. I’ll still go back home afterwards if you want me to, as long as you promise I can come visit you whenever,” Y/N added.
“Deal,” Dean answered, smiling wider when she reached out with her tail and flicked his fins. “You have a beautiful tail, by the way.”
Y/N blushed. “As do you, Dean,” she grinned. “And the golden armbands are a nice touch. I always just thought that you had a thing for those gold rings you always wore, but now I get it.”
Dean was about to reply and tell her that he’d often thought about getting rid of the rings—he hadn’t wanted anything to do with his privileged status as a mermaid, let alone as a human—but he was cut off when he realized that the sea demon had grown closer ever since he and Y/N had begun talking. His heart was pounding in his chest as he floated closer to her, pushing her behind him in an act of protectiveness he was sure to regret.
“Y/N, have you ever fought a sea demon?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off the monster.
“No. Have you?”
“Briefly. It didn’t end well for me the first time, but maybe we’ll have more luck today. I think it still holds a grudge from when I stabbed it in the eye, though,” Dean whispered.
The demon was slinking closer, its one good eye fixated on Dean. The other was completely black, as were the tentacles that helped it slither across the sand. From where he stood, Dean heard the demon let out a low growl. It almost sounded as if it were speaking another language, rather than growling, and Dean bared his teeth at it.
“You killed my family,” he spat. “And now I’m gonna kill you.”
Another growl came from the monster as it reached out one long tentacle. The limb moved faster than Dean expected, but he was able to push Y/N out of the way and then duck so it wouldn’t hit him. After righting himself, Dean glanced around, hoping to find something that he could use as a weapon. He had no such luck.
“Dean!”
Dean turned to see why Y/N was calling his name, only to be hit in the face by another thick tentacle. He groaned and fell backwards, landing with his tail curled underneath him at an awkward angle.
Y/N was at his side in moments, helping him up as she shot a fierce look at the demon, who was still encroaching on them. “You can’t do this by yourself, you idiot,” she told him. “I’m gonna help you.”
“Y/N, you don’t know anything about this thing! I followed my dad around for years searching for this demon and training to fight it!”
“Don’t act as if I’m useless. You’re the one who hasn’t been down here in years,” she said, ignoring when his jaw clenched in frustration. “Now come on, we have to get this thing away from shore before anyone sees it.”
That, Dean decided, was the smartest idea he’d heard all day. He nodded in agreement and swam off after Y/N, consequently leading the demon towards a set of dark caves that were just off the mainland.
“Why are we going this way?” Dean asked after a few minutes of swimming. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the demon was still following them. It was.
“Before I washed up on your beach, I found something here you might find useful,” she called over her shoulder.
Another quick glance told him that the monster was gaining speed as they swam into deeper waters, and Dean felt an adrenaline rush as he recognized the caves. Smiling, Dean tucked his arms against himself and dove into the deepest one. It was too dark to see anything, so he held his hands out and groped until he felt the cold, smooth metal he’d been searching for. Once he got a good grip on it, he found its mate, then felt his way out of the cave and swam back up to Y/N.
She was watching the monster with a worried look on her face when he finally emerged.
“I could kiss you!” Dean shouted, holding up his old sword for her to see. It was still polished to a shine, as if only a day had passed since he’d last used it.
She turned to face him, then grinned in response. “Maybe after, Winchester. You get something for me?”
Dean nodded and tossed his short, golden knife her way.
Y/N caught it with ease, weighing it in her hands. “I’ve never fought with one of these, but it’s better than nothing,” she told him, still smiling. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, sweetheart,” Dean replied.
With that, he charged the demon with Y/N at his side.
It’s good to be back, he thought, a smirk tugging at his lips when he saw a flicker of fear in the monster’s eye as he came it with the sword. No doubt it remembered the golden glow of the blade, and Dean couldn’t help but grin as he took his first swipe.
The demon would regret ever hurting Y/N and his family.
_______________
“Who is he?”
“Is that…”
“It’s just a story, that can’t really be him.”
“Dean? Dean, wake up.”
He knew that voice, the last one.
“Dean, sweetheart, wake up. Open your eyes, please.”
Y/N. That’s Y/N.
Slowly, Dean opened his eyes, ignoring the gritty feeling of sand stuck in his eyelashes. His entire body hurt, but he smiled when he saw Y/N above him.
Relief flooded her eyes as she cupped his cheek in her hand. “Hey, baby. Remember me?” she asked.
“How could I not?” Dean replied, closing his eyes for a brief moment. His voice was gravelly and his throat hurt. Clearly, he hadn’t spoken in a while. “I’d kiss you, but it hurts to breathe.”
Y/N frowned and gently touched his gills, then carefully brushed the sand off them.
“You should sit up. That will help,” she said, sliding a hand into the sand under his back so she could help him up into a sitting position. Before he could even reply, Y/N was pushing him and Dean had no choice but to follow her silent instructions.
Once he was sitting up, Dean took a deep breath, relaxing when he realized that he could, in fact, breathe better now. It wasn’t until then that he realized the small crowd circled around him and Y/N.
Quietly, he asked her, “What’s going on? Where are we?”
Y/N swallowed and glanced up at the other merfolk. “Dean, this is my pod. My family.”
Dean stayed silent for a minute before forcing a tired smile. “Meeting the folks so soon?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood. Nobody laughed and his shoulders sagged.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, her eyes sad as she gently touched his cheek. He flinched, feeling the still-tender bruise on his cheekbone.
“Sorry for what?”
“I know you’d rather go home, but after you finished off the demon… I don’t know. You just… passed out from exhaustion. I dragged you all the way here.”
“And where exactly is here?” Dean asked, looking around. Past the people, he could see a stone wall dotted with caves, each of them glowing from the inside.
Y/N turned and followed his gaze, then replied, “The Caves of Silvermerrow. It’s my home, just like it’ll be yours, if you want.”
The other mermaids and mermen murmured amongst each other and Dean glanced up at them, frowning.
An older merman moved forward from the crowd and approached the two of them, his tail swishing anxiously as he asked, “Y/N, who is this? Many of us have seen him on shore when we venture close, but now he’s like one of us. What have you done?”
“He’s always been one of us,” Y/N replied, swimming up from the sand so she was level with the elder. “This is Dean Winchester, son of Mary and John Winchester, brother of Sam Winchester.”
A gasp came from the gathered crowd, followed by a wave of murmuring. They began to move in closer and Dean swam up to Y/N, grabbing her arm.
“Y/N, is there someplace we can go that’s away from all these people?” he hissed, his tail brushing against hers as he tried to get as far away from the other merfolk as possible.
Glancing at him, Y/N nodded. “Elder Carver, I promise I will return and explain everything, but right now I need to find someplace Dean can rest. He fought long and hard to save us.”
The elder dipped his head in acknowledgement, then turned and bowed slightly deeper towards Dean. “You are most welcome here, Dean. If you choose to stay, I promise to help you find your place among us, be it in leadership or in service,” he said, his voice deep and warm.
Dean relaxed slightly, bowing in respect. “Thank you, Elder. I don’t expect to stay long. I hate the sea, but I thank you for your generosity.”
Before anyone could say anything else, Y/N was tugging Dean away from the crowd and towards the caves. She led him to a cave with a deep golden glow. Neither she nor Dean spoke the entire way there.
“We can stay here,” Y/N finally told him as she pulled a woven curtain over the cave’s entrance. It was woven of seaweed, and Dean noticed that Y/N quickly fixed a stray piece before she turned back to him.
“Is this where you live?” he asked, looking around. She nodded in response and settled down on a low, flat rock. “It’s pretty bare.”
“I don’t spend much time here. It’s lonely,” she replied.
Dean glanced over at her. “Lonely?”
Y/N nodded. “I spend most of my time with my family or my friends, but I’ve been on my own for a while. That’s why I was so eager to be with you, Dean. You were the first person I’d ever wanted to share my home with. I love you.”
“I love you too.” The words came instinctively, almost like breathing, and he felt a little lighter when she smiled. Dean sat beside her, not bothering to move his tail when it rested against hers. She didn’t move either, he noticed.
Much different than this morning when she moved away…
“You’re still welcome to come back and visit me,” Dean said after a moment, breaking the short silence.
She smiled over at him, then reached over and took his hand. “I would like that, but it’s a far swim. I can’t live two different lives, Dean. I can’t live in both worlds,” she murmured.
Chewing on his lip, Dean looked down at their tails. The flowing, thin parts of their fins moved with the drafty currents moving from one end of the cave to the other, and he smiled a little at the sight. Being underwater again had been strange at first, but now that he’d been down for a while, Dean felt as if he’d never left. And, as reluctant as he was to admit it, he was meant to be underwater.
“You okay?” Y/N asked, her voice soft.
Dean nodded. “Yeah. I’m alright, sweetheart. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About how I’d been expecting to feel like a fish out of water down here,” Y/N chuckled at that, “but I don’t. Being here feels natural. Being here with you feels natural,” Dean added.
Y/N blushed and squeezed his hand, then swam away from the bench. She moved over to a crevice in the stone wall and pulled out both Dean’s sword and the knife he’d loaned her.
“I can’t believe those were still there,” Dean chuckled, swimming over and taking them from her. “It’s been years since I’ve seen them.”
“And it shows. You could use some practice, old man,” Y/N teased. Dean raised an eyebrows at her, causing her to grin wider. “I’ll show you where the other men practice tomorrow, how’s that?”
He nodded and kissed her cheek. When he pulled away, he saw that she was blushing. Pride welled up inside of him; he could still make Y/N blush even though things had changed significantly between them ever since he’d revealed his identity.
“Can I ask you a question?” Dean nodded and leaned against the wall, watching her expectantly. “Will you stay here for awhile? With me?”
Dean didn’t think he could’ve smiled any wider if he’d wanted to. “Can you promise that I won’t have to deal with ton of people all the time?” he asked.
“Do you consider me a lot of people?” Dean shook his head. “Then yes, I can promise that.”
“Then you’ve got a deal, Y/N. Now come on, show me where I can sleep.”
Smiling, Y/N took his hand and led him to the back of the cave, where a comfortable bed of underwater plants was half-hidden by large, golden crystals coming out of the floor. The two of them settled down together, their noses only inches away from each other, then decided it would be more comfortable for Y/N to nestle in his arms.
Sleeping with a tail again would be difficult, Dean knew, but he had a good feeling that the familiar weight of Y/N laying against him would help. He smiled as he closed his eyes, finally feeling at home.
“Dean?” Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Dean, are you awake?”
He hummed in response, keeping his eyes closed as he pressed his nose against the bare skin of her neck.
“Thank you for staying. I would’ve missed you.”
Without a word, Dean pulled Y/N tighter against himself, then searched for her hand. Once he found it, he laced their fingers together and pressed another kiss against her neck. Y/N sighed and settled down once more, happy and safe in his arms.
_______________
Word travelled fast in Silvermerrow. Within hours of Y/N dragging Dean to the edge of the pod’s territory, everyone within a quick swim’s distance had heard of his arrival. The whole pod was buzzing with excitement and wonder. After all, it wasn’t every day that a myth was found out to be true.
One person, however, was more excited than the rest of the mermaids and mermen in the pod.
“Wesson? Are you home?”
Wesson pushed away from the shelves of ancient sea scrolls he’d been looking through, smiling when he saw his petite wife floating in the doorway of their home.
“Of course I’m here, Meg. Where else would I be?” he asked.
She shrugged, then smiled from ear to ear. Excitement filled her eyes and he could help but laugh as she darted across the room to grab his hands. She was pulling him towards the door before he could stop her.
“Whoa, whoa! Wait a second!” he laughed, gently prying his hands from her iron grip. “What’s got you so excited?”
“Haven’t you heard? It’s all true, Wesson! And if this one’s true, then who knows how many more could be!” Meg cried, reaching for his hands again.
Wesson, ever the cautious one in their relationship, moved his hands out of her reach. “Meg, explain! What exactly is true?”
“The myth about the Winchesters!”
Wesson froze, his tail going still as he watched Meg’s excited expression fall.
“Wesson? Why aren’t you excited? Dean Winchester is here! That’s the most exciting thing that’s ever happened in this place! Plus, you like stories, and I figured if we found where he was, you could ask him questions!” Meg grinned. “Maybe he could help me brush up on my fighting skills, too! In the story he’s supposed to be this great warrior, which means he probably has lots of dirty tricks he can teach me. What do you think?”
Shaking his head, Wesson turned and swam back into the little cave that he and Meg shared. She followed close behind.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Do you not want me to train with him or something?” Her mood was beginning to turn sour, Wesson could tell, and he quickly racked his brain for an excuse for his unusual behavior.
“No, that’s not it, Meg. I just have a lot of work to do. You training with him isn’t a problem. In fact, why don’t you go find him and invite him over to have a meal here in our cave? It would give him a chance to meet us without everyone else around,” he suggested.
Meg nodded excitedly and swam off, leaving Wesson alone once more. Once he was sure she wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon, he pushed a heavy rock in front of the cave’s entrance and swam to the bedroom tucked away in the back of their cave.
It was easy to find where he’d hidden the golden armbands he’d worn as a child, and as soon as he slipped them on, they grew to accommodate the large, hard-earned muscles on his arms. The feeling of the metal against his skin was odd; he hadn’t so much as touched the bands ever since his parents died, and he can’t imagine having to wear them every day like he had when he was younger. Of course, maybe he would have kept wearing them if he’d known that Dean was alive, too.
“He didn’t even come looking for me,” Wesson murmured.
After a long moment, he pulled the bands off and jammed them back into the box made of carved shell. He locked it and shoved it back in its place under his and Meg’s bed, then rose and went over to the mirror. Reluctantly, Wesson let his eyes travel down his long, multi-colored tail, all the way down to his fin. Though he typically avoided all memories of the attack, Wesson couldn’t help but cringe when he remembered the pain of his fin ripping in two.
You’re lucky that your tail wasn’t damaged, Wesson scolded himself, shaking his head as he watched the thin, shredded portion of his fin float in a thousand different directions. After all, Dean might have been hurt worse than you. Mom and Dad definitely were.
Hot, angry tears filled Wesson’s eyes at the thought of his parents’ deaths, and he wiped them away before he could see them in the mirror. Now wasn’t the time to cry. Now was the time to figure out what to do next. He could run, leaving Meg and the pod he called his home, or he could face Dean and hope that his brother wouldn’t be angry for not searching for him. Then again, Dean hadn’t looked for him either. They were both to blame.
Taking a deep breath, Wesson headed back out into the main room, then pushed the rock away from the entrance. Meg would be back before nightfall, as always, so he had until then to come up with an explanation. She’d surely want one as soon as she learned that Wesson had been hiding his true identity from her from the moment they’d met. Would she still want to be with him? Or would she only want Wesson, the quiet, common merman she’d eagerly married over three years before?
Either way, Wesson had a lot of explaining to do.
_______________
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