#it was a HUGE labor of love I cannot believe I pulled off

[bookwyrminspiration]

Shattered Upside Down

A kotlc wings au: masterpost here

Chapter 45: Epilogue (One Year Later)

word count: 10.6k

chapter summary: After freeing Olivia from Phoenix's clutches and (mostly) successfully defeating them and the Neverseen, what have the winged kotlcrew been up to in the past year?

warnings: death (non-violent, not mc)

taglist: @axels-corner @cadence-talle @ahecktonoffandomsinoneblog @loverofallthingssmart @cowboypossume @shellyseashell @imaramennoodle @dragonwinnie-kotlc @solreefs @fintan-pyren @jazzanddaydreams @xanadaus @valentinerose529

-> ao3 link here or read below one last time :)

The light had begun to turn a warm honey orange by the time Sophie Foster glitched into the grass fields of New Havenfield. All her friends should be inside by now, ready to enjoy the feast her parents had promised to prepare--partly in celebration of one year free, partly for personal reasons.

And this time they truly were free.

No more secret defeats or enemies crawling to the shadows to regroup. They’d actually done it this time--well, as far as they knew. If there turned out to be another resurgence they had to defeat again…Sophie was going to have some choice words with whoever was in charge of the universe.

Sophie’s wings buzzed lightly at her back as she surveyed the pastures, her vigilance a new habit she’d never break.

Grass shifted ever so slightly beneath the meandering air, and everywhere she looked she saw evidence of life bouncing back.

The gates had been reattached to their fences, new trees planted where they’d been torn that fateful day what felt like a lifetime ago. All the disturbed earth and rubble had been smoothed away, leaving clear paths to the house and pastures.

And there were animals in them.

Not as many as there’d once been, but anything at all was a huge improvement from the complete desolation that’d lasted months. Until, in a burst of inspiration, Sophie had dragged a dragon here.

It’d moved out long before Grady and Edaline had moved back in--it’d taken a while to rebuild the house, after all. Their faces had been grim when she’d first brought them for a brief visit and they’d seen the damage for the first time--the destroyed stairs, crumbling walls, the empty fields that’d once been teeming with life.

But even so, determination had steadily broken through.

Edaline’d even said she’d wanted to replace the stairs for years, but hadn’t had a good enough reason.

Sophie’d wanted to strangle her with a hug right then and there, but had settled for squeezing her hand as they’d continued along.

Sophie was mostly useless when it came to construction, and she had so many other new responsibilities to learn to balance, but she’d tried to check in on the house’s progress as much as she could.

Even though she didn’t have a bedroom there anymore.

It’d stung at first, even though it’d been her idea; and it wasn’t like there wasn’t space for her to visit--she still stayed over all the time.

It’d been bittersweet, a finality to all the rapid changes in her life. One more chapter of it closed.

Because as much as she loved her parents, it didn’t feel the same; something in her itched to keep moving, her mind desperate for the thoughts and colors and sounds it’d grown used to in the forest.

The monsters.

Even before their mission-gone-awry, Sophie’d already known what it was like to be different--and not in the way people liked. So now that she’d--mostly--gotten past her fears, she couldn’t help sympathizing with the things.

That didn’t mean there weren’t occasionally close calls, but they’d become fewer and farther between since Sophie had started working closer with Echo. Ever since the glitching not-cat had trusted her enough to show her the different pockets of monsters and things living in a sort-of-truce, she’d been spending more and more of her time with them, just like she used to wander the pastures at Havenfield.

Her parents weren’t necessarily happy about that--and a few of her friends had some reservations, even as far as they’d all come. But she had to. She couldn’t explain the feeling--plenty of her friends were successfully not spending ridiculous amounts of time around wild, potentially dangerous animals as they all worked to right the world. And yet.

Grass swished as Sophie started up the path towards the house, hoisting her spoils beneath her arm to get a better grip.

She’d known she had incredibly talented friends, but they’d somehow risen above and beyond even that in the past year.

Wylie and Fitz had formed a duo of sorts, Tam occasionally a third member, serving as valiant ambassadors between the surface and the Underground. The elves couldn’t stay down there forever, afterall--the dwarves’ patience could only tolerate so much.

But they also couldn’t jump right back into their old lives, even with the Neverseen and Phoenix gone--at least as gone as they could be. There were still…complications, of course.

Several elven houses had actually survived the apocalypse intact, given how isolated they’d been--and the fact they weren’t animal preserves. That really hadn’t worked in the Ruewen’s favor.

Biana and Maruca were helping coordinate moving those who still had houses back into them--their charming personalities were a huge help when dealing with so many haughty elves, but both of their abilities to detect and understand monsters made them invaluable when scouting out the surrounding areas to determine if they actually were safe to live in again.

Of course there were still thousands of displaced elves--those who had lived in Atlantis, or who hadn’t been so lucky with their homes--who needed a place to live. Last she’d heard of that, Dex had been deep in conversation with some dwarves, goblins, and council members about the logistics behind building temporary housing. Their plan sounded a lot like what she’d known as apartments back when she’d lived with humans.

She was sure people would have a lot to say about the smaller quarters and having to live near each other--but they’d also been doing that for over a year already, and underground at that. They’d be ridiculous not to recognize just how much of an improvement it would be to actually get some sunshine again. She was no physician, but everyone’s vitamin D levels had to be seriously hurting.

She could ask Elwin the next time she saw him. He’d probably tease her, again, about when she’d first come back.

~

“You know, it’s a miracle this flimsy piece of crystal was enough of a defense to keep this place safe,” Fitz observed, screwing the thing back in place after everyone had filed inside. He had one leg hooked over a new, stronger ladder--Sophie had broken the original--and the shiny new prototype of his knee brace clanked against the metal.

“I think Ro mentioned a couple times that she rigged it up with some bacteria, so anything that tried to get close learned the hard way that that was a bad idea,” Sophie offered as Olivia slipped her hand back into hers--they’d had to let go for the brief climb.

The little girl’s other arm was resolutely wrapped around Bee, holding the black and blue stuffed bumblebee tight to her chest; when she’d seen Sophie’s house last night after the campfire, she’d gasped so loud Sophie’d feared something had broken in, but she’d just rushed to the bed and grabbed the thing from where it’d been left next to Ella.

And Sophie suddenly remembered a note in the back of a diary and the hasty doodle next to it--a doodle Olivia had drawn. Of a little bee.

“Is that yours?” she’d asked, but the way she’d held it tight and trembling was all the answer she needed; maybe it was only a small toy in the grand scheme of things, but with what Olivia had been through? Any comfort was monumental.

She hadn’t set it down since, not even as they got ready to visit the Underground--all of them. And no one had said a thing about it.

Her friends, so far, had mostly been leaving Olivia to her. They weren’t ignoring her, but what were you supposed to do when someone added a very traumatized 8 or 9-ish year old to the group who had spent the last several months of her life witnessing and perpetuating horrific violence and mind games? And who had just witnessed two very influential people in her life die right in front of her--after watching her parents die not even a year before that?

Keefe kept making jokes and Fitz kept smiling encouragingly, and Linh was always so gentle, but some things just needed time.

She didn’t know why Olivia had chosen to stick to her side over everyone else’s, but she was going to do everything she could to be supportive and helpful…whatever that actually meant.

For now, it meant holding her hand as they climbed down the stairs into the Underground full of so many eagerly waiting people Sophie thought her brain might explode trying to list them all, even with her photographic memory.

All the parents who hadn’t seen their monstrous kids since they’d run away desperate to get their hands on them, bodyguards, Black Swan members, and maybe more; Sophie fell to the back of the group with Olivia so that when they finally crested the bottom, they wouldn’t be in the center of the chaos.

Just because she’d said she’d come didn’t mean she was ready for something as emotionally intense as this--especially with strangers. Sophie was barely more than a stranger herself.

“Dex!” Juline cried as she could only assume he reached the bottom, followed by what sounded a lot like him getting tackled.

She could hear Alden sobbing as he held tight to Fitz and Biana, and Tiergan’s soft voice as he spoke with Wylie under his breath--he was trying to keep it between the two of them, but unfortunately for him, all ten of them could hear it.

“Sophie?” Edaline’s voice called, nervous. Sophie still hadn’t shown her face; she and Olivia were a spiral up.

Tam reassured her mom. “Don’t worry, she’s here. She just…needs a minute.”

“Why?” Grady asked, and she smiled as she imagined the furrow in his brow.

Sophie looked down at Olivia. “Are you ready? I promise everyone will be very nice.” Well, Ro might make some stupid jokes, but we can deal with that when we get to it.

“Miss Foster truly has a knack for suspense,” Mr. Forkle said, a voice she hadn’t heard in so long she couldn’t help the way her eyes widened as she glanced toward the edge.

When she looked back at Olivia, something inscrutable had changed in her face. “Okay.”

Sophie took a breath and led the way down the stairs.

~

“You’d think erasing them would be the hardest part, not giving them back,” Fitz groaned from where he lay sprawled on the ground. There were plenty of chairs he could’ve chosen, but apparently the siren call of the hard earth was irresistible.

Elwin had chosen a chair, and now rubbed at his temples with his eyes firmly shut.

Adjusting to the influx of memories they’d poured back into his head.

Well, they’d already been in his head, just wildly out of place. They’d put everything back properly--and while some of the memories had found their place on their own, several had wandered aimless.

Meaning Sophie and Fitz had had to manually find where they went.

It’d be too soon if she never had to do anything so meticulous ever again.

“That’s the consequence of improper washing technique,” Tiergan told them, but his stern demeanor had been unusually softened since they’d come back--she suspected Wylie and the twins had something to do with that.

Sophie made a noise from where she’d collapsed in another chair, Olivia crossed legged on the floor beside her. “I’ll make sure to consult you next time we run away and need to hide our location from you and the Council.”

“Better idea,” Grady jumped in. “What if you don’t run away at all?”

Even though they were in one of the biggest rooms in the Underground, it still didn’t feel like nearly enough space for the number of people crammed into it.

All of her friends, all of their parents, Mr. Forkle, plus Sandor, Grizel, and Ro, Livvy to check up on Elwin, and Elwin himself. And there was little Olivia in the corner, but she was making herself so small she might as well not have counted.

Everyone had been incredibly nice to her, just as Sophie had promised, but it was still a lot of people.

And there had been a lot of confusion.

~

“Soph--oh?” Edaline had paused midway to her, head tilting to the side as her mouth dropped open. But she shook herself off as Sophie kept moving forward.

Edaline carefully closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around her.

“Hi, Mom,” she whispered into her ear, wrapping her free arm around her tight in response. She felt Grady’s join a moment later.

“It sounds like you have quite the story to tell us,” her mom said with a meaningful look as she pulled back, hands resting on Sophie’s shoulders.

Olivia’s face went carefully blank and tense, aware they were talking about her.

“Are you going to introduce us?” Grady asked, and Sophie realized it was more than just her parents Olivia was worried about. The whole room had gone silent, waiting in anticipation as they caught sight of her fiery red hair. Of someone new.

“Everyone, this is Olivia,” she said. “Olivia, this is everyone. She was…well, it’s a long story, but let’s just say she needed some better role models.”

Mr. Forkle raised a brow at that. “I do hope you plan to tell it, Miss Foster.” He watched Olivia with curiosity, a far-away look creeping around the edges like he was remembering something long past.

“Hang on, are you saying you think you all are role models?” Ro snorted, shaking her head and making the vivid purple of her pigtails sway.

“Hey, we may not be perfect--well, most of us, since I clearly am--but we’re definitely better than Murad and his creepy half-elf Phoenix people,” Keefe shot back.

Did you have to use every single buzzword possible? Sophie asked him, sighing as questions broke out; overlapping each other and rising in volume, she couldn’t even make out one question from another.

What? he asked, grinning and totally aware of what he was doing. It’s easier this way! Now everything’s out there.

Now I can’t even hear myself think, Tam put in, reaching up to tug on his bangs where he leaned against a wall near Linh, Wylie, and Tiergan, who was pinching the bridge of his nose and contributing to the noise.

“Don’t worry,” Sophie told Olivia, who had drawn back even further. “They do this all the time. It’s normal--and no one’s mad, I promise. And definitely not mad at you,” she said, guessing at where her reaction came from. “They’re just really confused…we kind of ran away from home a while ago, and everything has been chaos ever since. If they’re mad at anyone, it’s as us.” She gestured to herself and her friends. “We do stupid things a lot, and they’re kind of fed up with it.”

“Are you alright?” Edaline asked Olivia, brow crinkled. “I know you don’t know me, but we can fix that. I’m Edaline--Sophie’s mom. And if Sophie likes you, I’m sure I’m going to, too. She has great taste--don’t you agree, Grady?” she elbowed her husband lightly, drawing his attention away from the insistent inquisition her friends were undergoing.

Mostly it was them being asked any number of questions and going “you should ask Sophie about that” and “you’ll understand once Sophie tells the story” and “Sophie will explain.” Great. Really supportive of them.

“Hmm? Well, she does have some good friends, but there is that b--hey!” Edaline had elbowed him harder, and he seemed to actually be paying attention this time. And to realize there was a very overwhelmed little girl right in front of him. “Oh. Oh. Yes--Olivia, was it, kiddo? I like your little bee friend; it looks very soft. How’d you get wrapped up in all this mess?”

Olivia looked wide eyed between Grady and Sophie, and she wasn’t sure where this was heading or what she should do about it when Olivia opened her mouth.

The room had quieted by then, the adults getting nowhere with their questions and resorting to hugging their children again.

They’d overheard Grady’s question, however, and now watched with curious anticipation.

Olivia hesitated for a moment, then said. “You should ask Sophie about that, she’ll explain.”

Keefe cracked up.

~

“I think they’re going to explode if you make them wait any longer for that story,” Elwin said as he slipped his spectacles on and picked up her wrists. The leftover salve back at the village had helped some, but not enough. “So how about I take care of these while you start talking.”

Sure enough, when Sophie glanced back, it was to a room full of very tense, very expectant faces.

They’d sat patiently through Fitz and Sophie returning Elwin’s memories--and she couldn’t explain just how profoundly the relief had washed over her when she’d first seen him. Standing, full of color, wearing a ridiculous shirt covered in unicorns. Just himself.

She knew Livvy was good, but she hadn’t really believed he was okay until she’d seen the grin that’d split his face and he’d said, “There’s my thief!”, wrapping her up in an enormous hug.

But they’d stalled as long as they could.

Olivia was still curled up beside the chair, intensely aware of the attention she’d drawn as she nibbled on a puffed dessert. Kesler had offered it, promising there was nothing slipped into it to turn her green or anything--though she didn’t really understand the joke.

“Fine--but can you guys promise not to interrupt us with a million questions? We’ll be up all night if we do that.”

“I seem to recall you kids made a similar promise once--and were terrible at it.” Mr. Forkle smiled, silently settling into a nearby chair anyway.

“Hang on--us?” Keefe cut in. “You’re making us help, too?”

“Well obviously. Did you really think that ‘let’s make Sophie do all the talking’ thing was gonna fly?”

“Well…” Dex said, with a pointed look at her wings.

They buzzed under the intention--and from the tickle of Elwin’s fingers as he spread something over her burns. “That’s not what I--maybe I will tell the whole story myself then, if you’re all going to be so ridiculous.”

“I can help,” Linh offered, raising her hand ever so slightly.

“I told you, this is why she’s my favorite of you two,” Sophie directed at Tam, who only rolled his eyes.

“I’m beginning to wonder how we ever accomplished anything,” Tiergan rubbed at his temples.

“Simple. We’re the best!” Biana chimed in, appearing next to Sophie and startling her so hard she shrieked.

“You are,” Della agreed with a smile, but she continued. “Now about that story? Grady and Edaline already shared what you, Linh, and Sophie told them on your earlier visit. But it seems there’s been…some developments?”

Olivia sat very still as several people glanced at her again.

Fortunately for her, Fitz chose that moment to fluff his wings, knocking a glass off the table behind him with a loud clatter--he jumped at the sound as all eyes turned to him, but she could’ve sworn a hint of satisfaction flashed through the mindbubble as Olivia blinked.

“If everyone’s done, I’d be happy to tell you what’s going on--it’s great news,” she saw a few shoulders relax--even though everyone had seemed to pick up on their light, playful moods already. “But if you’d rather mess around…”

Biana appeared at her brother’s side to clamp a hand over his mouth as he opened it to protest, smiling sweetly.

“Alright,” she said as the room fell silent, expectant. “You already know some of the story, but there’s a lot we haven’t shared. Do you remember how Dex found that tag on the mushroom that broke into the Underground forever ago? The one that had a broken chain on it?”

~

“There has got to be a better way to carry that,” Maruca shook her head, re-securing her locs back as she watched Keefe stumble by.

Sophie followed her line of sight, a snort-like laugh bursting painfully from her nose as she saw what Maruca was talking about.

Keefe had a beanbag chair in his arms, but had apparently decided that the best way to hold it was to pile it atop himself in such a way his head was nearly completely covered, holding desperately tight for purchase as he walked unsteadily onward. She was seriously concerned he’d walk right out of the village and plummet to his death, even with the new railings.

Strung with vine-braided rope and peppered with flower buds waiting to bloom, they were a recent restoration project. There’d been railings when the village had first been built, evidenced by Olivia’s account and the leftover remnants they could sometimes find around the place.

But with time, storms, and tragedy they’d almost all fallen apart. None of her friends had bothered making railings when they’d started restringing some bridges and clearing out rubble, but that was because none of them needed them. If they fell--though it would take an idiot to fall in the first place--they could just fly back up.

That wasn’t true for everyone here anymore, though.

There was Olivia to think of, who had chosen to temporarily stay in the village with them because she couldn’t bear to be underground again--and because her monster wouldn’t be able to come underground with her.

Their parents hadn’t been thrilled at the thought of leaving several impulsive teenagers in charge of a young child, so they hadn’t.

On top of Olivia’s safety, their parents were frequent visitors; Grady and Edaline had already been to the surface before, and apparently so had Della and Mr. Forkle, so they were adamant that they should come over as often as they could to…she wasn’t actually sure.

Just to be there and start making up for the several months they’d been torn apart.

“AAH!” Keefe shouted, cutting her musings short as he nearly lost his balance on one of the rope bridges.

“You have telekinesis!” Fitz admonished from somewhere far in the distance--so far Sophie couldn’t even see where he was. “Use it, you idiot!”

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER HOW AWESOMELY THIS IS WORKING!” Keefe called back, though it was muffled since half of his face was pressed into the beanbag as he continued his stagger.

“What are you even doing?” Sophie called after him, barely containing her laughter, broom in her hand long forgotten.

“OLIVIA NEEDS SOMEPLACE COMFY TO READ HER NERD BOOKS!” he called back, and she realized that was, in fact, the direction he was heading.

With Olivia in the village--frequently visited by much more qualified role models than the ten of them--she’d chosen her own house.

She’d picked one nearby Sophie’s, though she hadn’t explained why. She couldn’t help suspecting it didn’t actually have anything to do with her; sure, Sophie had been the one to promise to get her out, but they’d all helped with that.

And they’d only spoken briefly when she’d been kidnapped, not long enough for them to form a strong connection. At first Sophie had just been the most familiar face, that was all.

Living in the village for the past month, she’d inevitably gotten to know the rest of Sophie’s friends, too. She’d taken a shining to Linh, both for the Hydrokinetic’s kindness and her dragons. Olivia had also started spending more and more time with Maruca, though she wasn’t sure what drew the two of them together.

Maruca sighed as they watched Keefe go, turning back around to get back to work; they were all having another cleaning day--and this time there wasn’t any horrible news burning the back of Sophie’s throat ready to throw it all to a halt.

They actually had even more help this time.

“Is he trying to fall?” Grady asked, returning from his trip to get more rope from the storage shed. He was helping Maruca with that--and originally Sophie had been part of it, but after a few too many close-calls, they decided she should sweep instead to preserve her fingers.

“AW, I THINK GRADY-O’S ACTUALLY WORRIED ABOUT ME!” Keefe yelled, even louder since he was further away and had a death wish.

Grady ruffled Sophie hair as he stood beside her, shaking his head. “Are you sure you don’t want to leave him in that creepy abandoned facility?”

None of them were willing to bring anyone else to the facility, since they didn’t know how it would respond to someone non-monstrous, but they’d told them all about it. And Keefe and Dex had been going back multiple times a week after Marella had showed them how to get there. They claimed it was because the Black Swan wanted to know what other valuable intel was hidden there--Dex’s first visit had been brief and under significant stress, after all--but Sophie was certain Keefe would’ve been there just as often even without the excuse. Dex was just covering for him.

Just because their families knew they had wings and some…interesting side effects from their first mission gone wrong didn’t mean they knew the whole story yet.

Even with minimal interruptions and half of the story already told, Sophie had spent practically the whole day recounting the last few months when they’d all gone back. Her friends had, of course, helped; they hadn’t really meant to make her do it all, but there still were some parts of the story only she could tell.

Like how she’d been kidnapped, and what she’d found in different monster’s minds.

There were other parts of the story only others’ could tell, but that didn’t mean they did.

Keefe had chosen not to tell anyone about what the being was to him, and none of the rest of them were quite sure either.

Biana hadn’t talked about the colors she saw with anyone but the ten of them--eleven if Olivia overhearing counted.

Maruca hadn’t mentioned what she’d done to keep them all safe.

Marella hadn’t talked about how she’d met her dragons.

Linh, however, was more than happy to share details about her own.

They’d been relegated to the forest floor when they had visitors--Elwin may have been fine getting jumped by a baby dragon, but they were starting to get bigger, and she didn’t think many others would take it as well as he did.

Even though Grady and Edaline used to work with animals. And even though they were slowly getting Olivia to open up more about her monster, Goldie.

They were taking it much better than she would’ve expected, given what had happened at Havenfield when the apocalypse first started and everything since.

She didn’t know if it was a testament to the strength of their natural courage, or if the need to comfort a traumatized little kid was enough to overpower any reservations they may have had, but she was grateful either way.

“You still with me, kiddo?”

Sophie shook herself off and smiled. “Always.”

~

Standing before Havenfield’s new door of crystalline wood, she hesitated before raising her hand to knock.

The gesture made her feel ridiculous and hope no one was watching, but she didn’t live here anymore. It didn’t seem right to just barge on in, even if she visited all the time.

Her knuckles were still against the wood when the door swung open and Tam’s face peeked out.

“Took your sweet time getting here.” He stepped back to let her pass, eyes reflecting the waning light. “I should’ve guessed,” he snorted as he saw what she carried.

“Am I the last one?” she asked, though she already knew the answer was yes.

“Sophie? Is that you?” Edaline’s voice called from the dining room, raising it to be heard over the lively chatter from dozens of people all in one space.

Sophie trailed behind Tam as she joined the group. “Sorry I’m late, Mom.” She used her free arm to wrap it around her mother, who had rushed her the moment she’d seen her to press her close; her wings gave a fond buzz.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming at all! What kept you?” Edaline pulled back, brushing a stray strand of hair off Sophie’s forehead; it was constantly sticking out every which way since she’d cut it, but it was infinitely better than all the tangles she’d dealt with from flying. Now she didn’t even have to think about tying it back before taking off, and she’d gotten all that weight off her neck.

“Is that for me?” Olivia asked, appearing beside them and pointing to Sophie’s arms.

“Sophie!” Fitz admonished from across the table where he sat between Keefe and Alden, wings relaxed and draping to the floor. “I thought we agreed stealing was wrong!”

“Stealing is great, actually, Golden Boy,” Marella answered for her, leaning back in her chair at a dangerous tilt that had Wylie frowning next to her.

“You’ve never even stolen anything before!” Tam protested, re-taking his seat between Linh and Maruca.

Sophie turned away from the debate that broke out to refocus on Olivia, who still looked expectantly at her with those wide bright eyes, arms folded over her chest. Her hair had been braided back, though a few curls were escaping and frazzled, matching the dirt stains on the knees of her overalls. She must’ve spent the day running through Havenfields pastures--maybe chasing Goldie.

“Yes, these are for you,” she answered her earlier question, and handed over her spoils.

A DVD of Labyrinth and a chapter book she’d swiped on a quick visit to the Forbidden Cities.

When she wasn’t with Goldie, Olivia liked to spend her down time reading or obsessively rewatching the same human movies over and over again, listening to the languages of her childhood.

Labyrinth had been one of Sophie’s childhood staples, and when she’d seen it she couldn’t help grabbing it to pass the classic on.

“You’re going to run out of space to keep all those at this rate,” Grady teased as he emerged from the adjoined kitchen with platters of pastries in each hand. His apron said “KISS THE COOK”, which Sophie had grabbed for him on a different Forbidden Cities run; it was becoming quite the habit of hers.

“I’ll keep them in your office when that happens,” Olivia decided, darting off with her goods; footsteps pounded up the stairs as she raced to her room to deposit them.

A bittersweet pang coursed through Sophie.

She’d worried about leaving her parents alone when she’d decided she preferred to stay in the village; she couldn’t bear to be so far from Echo and all the creatures, and visits weren’t enough.

Even going back every single day, the distance grew as she stayed at Havenfield to help with the rebuilding efforts. Even though the most she could do was carry things sometimes. Construction really wasn’t her thing.

But they weren’t the same people she’d moved in with who were lost and grieving and needed someone to guide them back to living, and they weren’t the same parents she’d left in the Underground who needed reassurance she was still alive.

Grady’d definitely shed a few tears, but all his arguments had been half-hearted when she’d told them.

And she wasn’t leaving them alone.

There was Olivia now.

Sophie didn’t have a bedroom here anymore, but Olivia did.

There wasn’t a single moment she could pinpoint where Olivia had started melding into the family. No one had meant for it to happen; it’d simply been the result of a series of decisions trying to make the best out of a bad situation.

Grady and Edaline weren’t the only ones who had been kind to Olivia, who had visited the village and brought her gifts and been willing to put in the time to get past the thick shell Murad had put around her.

Not that that could be resolved in just a year--or ever; she’d bear the scars for the rest of her life, but they’d made significant progress in earning her trust.

But even with so many people offering her a peace she’d nearly forgotten, Sophie’s own parents had stood out above the rest.

Olivia trusted Goldie, her giant gold-threaded midnight bear, more than she trusted herself.

And Grady and Edaline had a way with animals.

As soon as they’d earned Goldie’s trust, it was like this arrangement was inevitable.

Of course she’d stay with the elves who literally worked an animal preserve; of course they’d look after an experimental little girl thrust into a new world without any family left to remember her--they already had experience with that, after all.

The only blip in the process had been the rest of the half-elves.

There was no simple solution to what to do about or with them, and they still didn’t have everything worked out.

With the help of information Dex had retrieved from the abandoned facility, the bits of intel recoverable from the burnt husk of the main facility, and the scraps of knowledge Olivia had from experience, they’d started searching for survivors of the facility fire.

And, with time, they’d found some.

There was no way to anticipate how any one person would react.

Some of them vehemently believed in Murad’s cause and had been indoctrinated by his revenge since birth, spewing vitriol against anyone who came near.

Some hadn’t even been a part of the experiments and plots, they’d just lived there because there was nowhere else in the world they could find a population of people like themselves. They’d been born into it and didn’t know anything else.

Some didn’t know what to think when Sophie found them and asked to talk.

And neither did the elves.

Originally the councillors had wanted to keep this knowledge to themselves, but there was no way Sophie was going to let them stay quiet about it; she’d understood why they’d kept quiet about Lady Vespera’s Nightfall--but she wasn’t going to sit by a second time.

They must’ve seen something in her expression that made them realize there was no keeping this quiet, so they’d elected to spread the news gradually themselves, and their world had never been the same.

Especially not after the Council had asked to meet with any half-elves willing.

The burden of arranging that meeting had fallen to Sophie and her friends, since they were the ones actually going out to find former Phoenix members.

It’d taken months, but with their combined efforts they got a dozen of the half-elves they’d found to agree to represent their people before the Council.

That wasn’t to say everyone was happy with the arrangement--the half-elves they’d found had only been the tip of the iceberg, hundreds more having survived, escaped, and reconvened around the globe.

And they were just as divided about the issue as the elven world.

Their main advantage had been surprise, as virtually no-one had been aware of their existence--not even the few elves who’d been alive when the banishing decree had been issued. It was too long ago; their ancient minds hadn’t held onto the memories, especially with the washers deployed throughout the Lost Cities and the rewritten history books replacing the gaps.

But now they’d been discovered, and they were far fewer in number and power than the rest of the Lost Cities.

So despite intense debate, they agreed to the meeting.

A meeting that had grown to include all the intelligent species.

When the meeting had started, there were only six intelligent species.

When it ended, there were seven.

Of course Sophie’s attendance had been requested to represent her friends, given just how wrapped up they were in the whole mess--because describing it as anything less than was just wishful thinking.

There’d been arguments both ways--saying that half-elves should fall under the designation of elves and didn’t need their own classifications (of course with some arguments they should be classified with humans instead). Others that they were too different from both species to be anything but their own category.

Regardless of what everyone else thought of them, the half-elves refused to align themselves with the elves given their history. And with that solemn reminder, the Council voted in favor of their own classification and broke the tie.

It was the least they could do, a first step, though they were a long way from making up for the mistakes of the past. If they ever could be.

The other species had left that meeting concerned that if half-elf/half-humans--who referred to themselves with which word depended on the person--could be considered an intelligent species, what did that mean for humans? Was it the elven-half that made them eligible? Or if the title was something that they could hand out based on a vote, whose to say humans weren’t intelligent after all? The thought had darkened and perplexed many faces, but it wasn’t what had screwed up Sophie’s--she already knew humans deserved to be considered intelligent, she just also knew that battle would be a long one, and wasn’t quite ready to take it on.

She was more worried about Olivia.

If the half-elves were establishing themselves again, would Olivia want to go back to them? She’d lived her entire live with them, after all. Spoken their languages, participated in their traditions; their faces were far more familiar than Sophie and her friends’.

Would they want her back?

Surely they knew about her--she’d been Murad’s favorite project.

But they hadn’t asked about her at all. Not until she’d broached the subject herself, the worry unbearable until she ripped off the bandaid.

They’d gone still.

��She’s alive?”

One of the half-elves from the meeting had pulled her aside, grip tight on her arm and desperately searching her face, brown eyes meeting brown. “Olivia’s alive?”

She’d stammered out some sort of affirmative, too caught off guard by their intensity to do anything else.

“Take me to her, please.”

It had taken a few days for security purposes, but when she’d brought them--Saya, she’d learned--back to New Havenfield, she’d never seen anyone so nervous.

Saya kept pushing back their dark curls, fiddling with the edges in anxiety, so different from the collected calm they’d displayed in the meetings as they waited in the pastures.

And then Grady, Edaline, and Sandor had walked out with Olivia behind them, and the unease on their face turned to bittersweet heartache at her small gasp.

Saya hadn’t said a word as they’d dropped to their knees, arms holding Olivia tight as she crashed into them and gripped them tight.

They switched to a human language Sophie didn’t recognize but still understood, and her eyes burned badly enough she had to look away--so did her parents, even though they couldn’t understand what they said.

But the love in the words was unmistakable.

“You’re alright? They’ve treated you well? When I heard--”

Olivia nodded. “They’ve--they’re nice. Where did you go?”

“I never went anywhere, honey. But when you left, I never thought I’d see you again. I thought something horrible had happened. But you promise you’re okay?”

“It’s better now since…since…” she trailed off, glancing at Sophie. “You’re not going to leave again, right?”

“Never again. I promised your parents I’d look after you, remember? I’m so sorry it’s taken me this long to find you. I had no idea where to start looking--but now I’ve found you, and I intend to keep my promise.” Saya tucked a curl behind Olivia’s ear, searching her eyes before pulling her close again.

They steeled themself then, remembering they had an audience, and switched back to the Enlightened Language.

“Sophie tells me you’ve been looking after her. Thank you,” they said, carefully even.

Edaline blinked. “Of course--Saya, right?” Saya nodded. “It’s the least we can do; no one deserves what she’s been through.”

“How do you know Olivia?” Grady asked, tightening his hold on Edaline.

Saya stayed on the ground, eyes on Olivia as they spoke. “Her parents and I were close, though they were far more involved than I was.” They didn’t say with what, but they didn’t need to. Involved with Murad and his experiments. “I promised I’d look after her if anything happened to them--though I didn’t know until recently--” they inclined their head to Sophie “--that she was still alive. I thought she’d died with Murad and Fintan in the fire.”

Olivia flinched at the names--nearly imperceptible, but there; Sophie swore she could hear a growl from a distant pasture.

“What are your intentions now?” Sandor squeaked out, squinting suspiciously at Saya. He’d taken to guarding Olivia instead of Sophie, and seemed glad to have someone to protect again.

Saya’s expression hardened, and they stood, a hand on Olivia’s shoulder; she looked anxiously up between the two of them.

“I intend to keep my promise.”

“How?” Sophie cut in, acutely aware of the rising tension.

“Thank you for looking out for her, but she belongs with her people. How would you like to come home with me?” they asked, looking down at Olivia and softening their tone.

Olivia stayed quiet, frozen--and this time there was no mistaking Goldie’s agitation as the growl sounded again, heavy footsteps approaching.

Sophie tried again. “Where are you staying?”

Saya glanced at her, debating with themself for a moment before answering; they’d worked alongside Sophie long enough not to immediately write her off. Saya had been the first to agree to the meeting, after all. And they’d stayed near Sophie throughout the whole ordeal.

“Murad established a number of unmapped bunkers in the event something went seriously wrong.”

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself tight and Goldie’s thundering form crested around a corner with all its hair on end.

“Underground?” Olivia asked faintly.

“Hey, kiddo, remember the breathing exercises we went over?” Grady said before Saya had a chance to answer. “Slow and steady, that’s it. You’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut tight as she listened, body lightly swaying with the rhythm.

They stayed quiet as she regulated herself, only broken by Grady and Saya’s gentle encouragement.

Goldie stalked up beside Sophie, fur laying smooth over its body--but eyes fixed intently on Olivia.

Sophie reached a hand out to brush against it; she hoped the soft strokes would travel through whatever mental link the two shared and help calm Olivia down.

When Olivia opened her eyes again, it was to Saya crouched in front of her, seeing her with new eyes.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you, honey? A lot I don’t know about. Yes, the bunkers are underground. Would that be a problem?”

Olivia didn’t answer, but turned anxious eyes towards Goldie, who stared back.

“She doesn’t like being underground,” Sophie explained quietly, wings buzzing. “It reminds her of…everything. Since your facilities were underground.”

Saya stayed quiet for a few moments, brow furrowed. “Well, that’s a problem.”

They looked around then, surveying the pastures and the peaceful animals they’d been slowly accumulating, Goldie at Sophie’s side, her parents and Sandor tensely watching over the exchange, the new house of crystal and wood.

“Do you like it here?” Saya asked, switching away from the Enlightened language; Edaline, Grady, and Sandor’s expressions pinched.

Slowly, Olivia nodded. “Everyone’s very nice, and Goldie likes it here. There’s lots of space for it. And I have my own room--I even have some of the movies we used to watch!” She pushed up a little in a bounce of excitement. “We could--we could watch them together.”

Saya smiled. “I’d love to watch a movie with you. Do you like the people?”

Olivia wasn’t blind to what was happening. “I miss you. It’s…scary, sometimes, meeting so many new people. But Sophie promised me they’d all be nice, and that I didn’t have to meet anyone I don’t want to. And she keeps her promises.” Goldie shifted. “You could…you could stay here with me.”

Sandor’s face screwed up with impatience as Sophie’s eyebrows lifted.

“I wish I could, honey. And before we watch that movie, I have a very important question for you.” They waited for Olivia to nod. “Do you want to stay here? I know I don’t have a place for us aboveground, but just say the word and I’ll figure something out.”

Olivia took a moment, looking around at the new Havenfield just like Saya had, really considering her answer. She met Goldie’s eye, looked and Grady and Edaline, at Sandor, at the fields she’d started to play in and help with. “I like it here.”

“But do you want to stay? I promise I won’t be upset if you do, I just want to know what you think, okay?”

Something loosened in Olivia’s face and she nodded. “I like it here. Are you sure you can’t stay with me?” Her voice was near pleading, holding tight to Saya.

Saya’s face softened, and they pressed a kiss to Olivia’s forehead. “I can’t, honey. But I promise I’ll visit as much as I can. Every single day, even.”

They switched back to the Enlightened language. “You understood all that, I presume?” That part was directed at Sophie, and she nodded.

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Edaline asked--polite, but strained.

“If Olive doesn’t want to be underground, I don’t have anywhere I can take her right now. And with what she’s been through…I’m not going to force her to leave.” Saya appraised Grady, Edaline, and Sandor as though they’d never seen them before. “She likes you, and she likes it here. If she’s finally found some stability, I won’t take it from her.”

“But you’re not going, right?” Olivia cut in, even though Saya had already promised to visit.

“I told you I’d be here as much as possible, didn’t I?” they said, squeezing her shoulder. They turned back to Grady and Edaline. “And in that case, I believe a proper introduction is in order, since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other--assuming you have no problem with that?” They raised a brow expectantly, almost in a challenge.

A smile broke across Grady’s face. “Of course not--if that’s what Olivia wants, we have no problem with it. Grady, Grady Ruewen,” he said, stepping forward to offer Saya his hand for a firm shake.

Edaline bent over to wrap Olivia in a tight hug, whispering, “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. I promise, Saya can stay over as much as they want, okay? Whatever you want. And if one day you want to leave and stay with them instead, that’s okay too. We just hope you’ll visit sometimes.”

Olivia’s answering smile could’ve lit the world on fire.

~

“Was that all you grabbed?” Saya asked from their seat in the corner; they sat alone. Just because they were at Havenfield even more than Sophie these days didn’t mean they knew or liked everyone the Ruewen’s had invited. Sophie wasn’t sure they’d even met Alden before.

“Almost everything,” Sophie shook her head, reaching into her pocket to pull out a pack of mints and tossing them to Saya, who caught it with ease.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite elf,” they grinned, tearing off the plastic and popping one into their mouth.

Marella made a noise of protest, and Fitz opened his mouth to respond to Marella, but Biana kicked both of them under the table. “We are not having this debate again! Not at the table at least! Go fight it out outside if you need to, you animals.”

Tam had to cover his mouth with his hand to smother his laughter, and he wasn’t the only one.

“If you’re handing out presents, please tell me you got something for the rest of us,” Keefe begged, making puppy-dog eyes at her. Even though he knew the answer. It’d become a small tradition for her to bring Olivia a little something back whenever she visited the Forbidden Cities, and occasionally she grabbed something for Saya, too.

But the three of their’s connection to the Forbidden Cities--raised by humans and half-humans--was something they mostly kept between the three of them.

That wouldn’t stop Keefe from asking for treats and favors, though.

“Unbelievable. You save the world and this is the thanks you get?” Keefe complained with a small smile, because he knew he was about to start even more debate and arguments.

Sure enough, Maruca snorted, “You saved the world? Were the rest of us on vacation or something?”

Sophie tuned them out as Olivia came racing back down the stairs, giving Sophie a quick nod before she skirted around the chairs and mingling bodies to find Saya.

They smiled at her, running a fond hand over her head and fingering the braids Grady had done that morning.

“Saya’s taken the news well,” Edaline murmured next to Sophie, and she realized they’d both been watching them.

“Well, they said they were more ambivalent about Murad and his revenge dreams. Some of the others are probably taking it harder.”

Even after all the months spent working together, re-establishing the elven and half-elven worlds--sitting through meetings, traveling the world, and learning more about construction coordination than she ever thought possible--and even after all the progress they’d made, there was still one detail that bothered her.

A desperate, scared, lonely boy with eyes that couldn’t decide if they wanted to be blue or green standing alone in an evacuating village as his elven mother turned from him, never to return.

The defining moment of Murad’s life, the one that had sparked him to form Phoenix and shaped his vitriol against elves into what it had been.

But why?

Why had she walked away?

Murad had raved about how she’d chosen elves over him, but…she’d looked so devastated in that memory.

Sophie had so many responsibilities to balance, but the image of Murad’s mother’s bracing face burned against her eyelids every time she closed them, and she couldn’t stop asking why why why why why?

So she’d found herself before Councillors Bronte and Oralie, asking if they had any idea where to start looking for a vanishing elf.

Because there wasn’t any record of her in the Registry Files; Sophie’d thought that if she’d renounced her half-elven son and human lover, she’d have rejoined polite elven society and there’d be something to find.

But it was like she’d never existed.

Bronte and Oralie couldn’t say much to help--but they reminded her that elves don’t die, at least not naturally.

The elves from that time were still alive, even if their memories had been altered.

And so on the side, Sophie’d began the long and tedious process of identifying the few Ancients who were ancient enough to remember, of visiting them, getting permission to search for their washed memories--some were more willing than others.

There were those who didn’t want anyone rooting around in their head ever again, even if it meant they never got their old memories back--they’d been fine this long without them, after all, so what did it matter?

There were those nervous and distrustful about the process--especially if she kept her wings out for the meeting, so she’d taken to keeping them under a cape during her visits just to make it easier to talk to them.

And then there were those who were her favorite to work with: the ones eager to have their memories returned, who practically begged the Moonlark to find what had been stolen and set things right. They were few and far between.

All that didn’t even take into account how temperamental Ancients could be with how old and crowded their minds had become, nor how isolated they generally liked to stay. The majority of Ancients old enough to remember never responded to her initial contact.

Suffice to say, she’d had her work cut out for her--though Fitz had been sweet enough to help as much as he possibly could, and given the wide range of reactions to their varying levels of success, she was immensely grateful she didn’t have to suffer it alone.

Especially when, against all odds, they’d actually found something.

She’d been nearly ready to call the search off that day; she’d been here before, the infinite darkness in the outskirts of a mind that meant whatever memories there’d once been had been swallowed and lost.

The few flickers of ancient, ancient memories they’d already found were better than the complete emptiness they found in most minds.

But this particular ancient seemed so eager--desperate--to find something, that she nearly couldn’t bear the thought of telling them there wasn’t anything left.

She’d opened her eyes and looked into their imploringly blue eyes, that she found herself transmitting to Fitz, One more try.

The tug of exhaustion pulled at his mind, but he didn’t complain. Just rallied the little energy he had left to pool between them and squeezed her hand tight.

“One more try,” she repeated out loud for their benefit, and they nodded and closed their eyes, bracing themself in the chair. Their fingers dug so deeply into the wood she worried it’d crack.

With a final shove, they sliced through the fudgy edges of their consciousness as they shouted MURAD again, and Sophie sent a tiny bit of the power stored beneath her ribs in an attempt to get something to happen.

Maybe they aimed in the right place. Maybe it was her stored power. Maybe it just finally clicked into place.

Whatever it was, Fitz whispered, Oh fuck, before his mind immediately recoiled from its own vulgarity as a crackled memory surged forward. It buoyed them out of the recesses of this ancient’s subconscious with a startling instancy as they watched.

Even through the distortion Sophie could make out her face, pretty dark curls to her waist and deep blue elven eyes, dark skin, and a pinched expression overflowing with tears.

~

She burst into the room, not bothering to knock and sending them jumping to their feet.

“Nai--” they started, but she wasn’t listening.

“They won’t listen. They can’t see reason--they’re too afraid, and I don’t know what else to do,” she whispered, gripping her hair tight and frazzling it as she paced the living room.

“Slow down--what are you talking about?”

Murad’s mother stopped, turning to face them. “The council. Y--said they’d talk to them to appeal the decision, but he couldn’t make it. He messaged me, begging me to take his place. Because someone has to make them see how--how--how stupid this is. They can’t erase them, I’m not letting them take my family from me.”

“You met with the council?”

“If you can even call it that. He told me I had to go immediately, since they were already preparing to wipe their barbaric decision from their memories! Can you believe it?” she whirled to face them. “They know, they know it’s wrong--that’s why they erased it. Because they’re a bunch of cowards who can’t face the fact they’re doing this because they’re afraid--ruining thousands of lives over it.”

They struggled to keep up with her, heart pounding as they watched her pace back and forth and back and forth.

“I showed up and half of them didn’t even know what I was talking about!” she burst out, hands curling into fists. “I left Murad in--” she cut out, tension riddling her body as horror flashed across her face.

They stilled. “With Hati?”

Murad’s mother whirled, punching the wall and sending photos crashing to the floor. “I’m an idiot. How could I--I need to go back. I left him alone because I thought--what was I thinking!”

“You left him alone?” They could only helplessly repeat back what she said, could only try and understand bits and pieces of this whirlwind.

She darted back to the door, still ajar from when she’d burst in; she fumbled a starstone from her pocket and held it up to the light, not even bothering to look.

Instead her eyes were on the ground, but far far away and furious as she held a hand to her mouth and tried to brush away the tears.

They’d never forget the terrified sorrow on her face as the light started to pull her away.

Or the soft, “No,” she breathed as she faded from sight, muscles going limp and eyes wide as she realized all too late her carelessness.

And all they could do was reach towards their sister and watch her disappear.

~

Sophie opened her eyes to tears streaming down their ancient face, and as she opened her mouth to say something--anything--she tasted salt on her own lips, too.

“I’m so sorry,” Fitz said, hollow and automatic as their hands dropped from their temples.

They’d seemed too stunned to say anything in response for a long minute, and then they turned away.

Their bright blue eyes fogged over, and they hugged their arms close.

“I have always felt,” they began, pressing a palm to their chest over their heart, “that I was missing something. When I still spoke to my old companions, they told me it was the product of an old mind. Things slip through the cracks. It’s only natural. And I tried to believe them, that this space in my life was nothing more than an Ancient mind collapsing on itself. But some part of me never did, and when I heard that the two of you were searching the minds of those willing, I couldn’t resist. I had to know.”

They paused and took a breath. “And now I do.”

Sophie blinked hard. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage. What else could she possibly say?

They continued like she hadn’t spoken. “I remember now…she was so passionate. If anyone could’ve convinced the council to revoke their decision it would’ve been her. That must’ve been why she risked it.” Their eyes fixed on her. “The general population doesn’t know the specifics of what our world went through, and us recluses even less so. But we all heard of the meetings between the species, and that there were half-elves there. Murad…I know it’s unlikely, but did you ever learn anything of him?”

Sophie’s breath caught, and Fitz’s wings ruffled behind them in surprise.

Their brow furrowed, anxiously looking between them and reading their reaction.

“You have?”

She couldn’t get her mouth to work, couldn’t figure out how to tell them that Murad had been responsible for their world falling apart, couldn’t figure out how to soften the blow.

Fitz beat her to it. “We did. He…he didn’t make it out.”

Their minds still held hands from their probe, and she felt his thoughts racing frantically past as he tried to school his expression and give this Ancient any peace he could.

They closed their bright blue eyes, as though they’d been expecting it. “Thank you; now leave me, please.”

They’d complied, numb. Fitz’s hand tight in hers as she drew them through the void and back to the village.

Neither of them moved or even said a word, simply standing there, until Wylie crossed their paths.

One look at them and he was calling a family meeting and gently pushing them into chairs beside the campfire; their fingers were still intertwined.

It’d taken a little bit to gather everyone, as busy as they all were with their different projects these days. Linh’s dragon had finally woken, and she’d been helping re-acclimate it to being awake and taking care of its no-longer-so-little ones. Marella had moved hers out of Havenfield, though Sophie wasn’t up to date on where it was now. It took Tam some time to get away from wherever it was he kept slipping off to--she saw him with Fitz a lot, and heard them say something about “knocking some sense into everyone.”.

But everyone trickled in, one by one, until the ten of them were silent around faux purple, yellow, white, and black flames and the questions became more and more worried.

When they’d mentioned calling Elwin, Sophie and Fitz had sent the memory through the mindbubble and watched it ripple into their heads, whispers falling silent as they watched.

Wylie and Biana, their resident experts on light, confirmed what they’d already suspected.

Murad’s mother, who’s name they hadn’t fully caught, had been too distraught and distracted as she’d held up the starstone.

They couldn’t see the specifics of the light, but Wylie and Biana said there was an impassive hunger to it, visible in the patterns it pulled her body apart in.

Never to reform.

She’d faded.

Murad had been wrong. She hadn’t abandoned him in that village to choose pure-bred elves over her family, her son.

She’d left desperate to keep him, and had died trying to get back to him.

His hurt, his motivation, his entire cause was built on something that wasn’t even true.

Millennium of work in retribution, months of chaos and torment, and this entire time she had chosen him.

Chosen him so entirely that it had torn her apart.

~

None of them had known what to do with the information, so Sophie’d told Saya the next time they crossed paths at Havenfield; it hadn’t taken long, they both visited as often as they could.

They’d gone quiet, then sought out Olivia to hug her close and apologize because they couldn’t stay.

Amidst Olivia’s disappointment, they silently pulled a starstone from their pocket and faded into the light; Sophie couldn’t help a pang of worry, remembering Murad’s mother being pulled so gracefully, so silently into its eternal light.

Edaline and Grady had come out then, just in time to watch them twinkle away.

They’d looked at Sophie in confusion. Did something happen? We thought they were staying the night.

So Sophie had silently pulled them inside to tell them what she and Fitz had found; something that changed everything and nothing at all.

That had been a little under a week ago, and she hadn’t seen Saya since.

But they’d shown up today, grinning at Olivia and exchanging polite conversation with all the guests they didn’t know.

Edaline and Grady had decided it’d been entirely too long since everyone had gotten together, and they all deserved an evening of fun and relaxation with how hard they were all working. For months Sophie’s days had been so crammed she could barely tell them apart. Between all the meetings the council wanted her sitting in on, helping Echo manage the forests and creatures, her Murad project, the reconstruction efforts, visiting Havenfield, and helping her friends with their equally busy schedules, she wasn’t sure she’d been this busy when the Neverseen and Phoenix had been at large.

And, another reason to celebrate, it’d been almost an entire year since they’d finally won.

But she set all of that from her mind, wings buzzing with excitement in their loose tailored shirts as she slipped into a seat beside Dex, nudging him affectionately with her shoulder.

He grinned back at her from his animated conversation with Elwin about something she didn’t understand, passing her one of the pastries Grady had baked.

As she bit into it, a small Brrr echoed through the room.

When she looked down, she found herself staring directly into Echo’s eyes as it perched in her lap.

She swore she could hear Tam muttering something that sounded a lot like weirdo as she pet it, trying not to sprinkle powdered sugar over it.

Linh flicked water at her brother, giving Echo a longing look from across the table.

Tam grumbled under his breath, and Keefe laughed at him with wings flashing white. They ruffled, bumping into Fitz, who’s own wings shot out and hit Biana.

She shrieked in indignation, laughing as she pushed out of her chair--Maruca reaching out to pull her back down as Wylie shook his head. Sophie saw Dex’s hand slip into his pocket, and she feared what he’d pull out of it--but that wasn’t nearly as wicked as Marella’s expression; she only ever looked like that when she knew something good was about to go down.

“Everything alright over there?” Grady called from where he’d returned to the kitchen, and Sophie couldn’t help grinning as she finished off her pastry, watching her family. Her ridiculous, weirdo family.

“Never been better.”

[sokovianheadtilt]

Arrival

Bucky Barnes x black!reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/N prepare for the arrival of their babies

Warnings: Childbirth, inaccurate medical proceedings (it’s 4 am i don’t feel like researching my bad) 

A/N: The Barnes family is GROWING, i love this au so much omg. anything for domestic Bucky Barnes <3

Word Count: 1.2k

SERIES MASTERLIST

With Y/N being almost 9 months pregnant and knowing that twins never come on their actual due date, Bucky was freaking out a bit. He spent every day checking to ensure every bag was packed, the car was ready, and that you were comfortable. But when you shook him awake, telling him that your water broke, he was panicking. He quickly jumped out of bed, pulling on a shirt and sweatpants before taking you to the car. He ran back inside to grab Logan who cutely asked “Baby sisters are coming?” 

Bucky couldn’t believe he was going to be a dad again. Yes, again. Just because he became Logan’s father when the boy was 5, doesn’t mean he’s going to see the birth of the twins as his first time being a father. Just because his little girls were biologically his doesn’t mean his little boy isn’t his. He did his best to reassure Logan that nothing would change between them when the girls arrived, that’d he would love him just the same. He dropped Logan off at Steve’s house before taking you both to the hospital. The nurses got you situated and now you had to play the waiting game. 

Hour 3 - 4 centimeters dilated 

Y/N was laying in her bed as Bucky sat next to her bed, holding her hand “How long were you in labor with Logan for?” he asked “6 hours. I walked my way to the hospital and just slid out of me after that” you told him. Every year you told Logan about the day he was born, leaving out the part where Brock basically forced you to go by yourself (a/n my mom does this for me every year and i love it). Bucky’s eyes widened at that information “You walked to the hospital?! God I hate that prick, wanna fucking choke him out” he muttered as you giggled “It’s fine baby. I clearly got him out right? Now we have an adorable 6-year-old running around” Bucky smiled softly at the mention of his son “Yeah we do” he kissed the back of your hand.

Hour 6 - 6 centimeters dilated

Y/N groaned and threw her head back against the hospital before looking down at her belly “It cannot be that comfortable in there. I know you want to meet us. Do you know how you can do that? By getting out of me” she huffed as Bucky held back a laugh “They’ll be here soon doll. We can’t force them out” he reasoned with you as you whined “I know but they make me huge and I’m tired of them using my bladder as a kickball” you pouted with Bucky standing up to kiss your head “Just a little longer”

Hour 10 - 7 centimeters dilated 

The nurse suggested walking around the hospital floor to help speed up the process a bit and you would do anything to get these girls out of you. Bucky held your hand as he walked beside you. “Babe help me get my mind off this, talk to me about something” you suggested as Bucky thought for a moment “What’s your dream wedding?” he asked and you looked at him with a small smile “Well, when I was younger I always thought I would make everything pink” she giggled “It seemed perfect in my head, but now…I don’t know. My last wedding wasn’t anything special. Just a ride to the courthouse because Brock didn’t want to pay for a wedding. Got a little white dress from target and made the biggest mistake of my life. The only good thing that man gave me was Logan and he’s barely getting any credit for that. I’m not sure what I would want my dream wedding to be yet, but when I figure it out I’ll let you know” you looked up at him as Bucky kissed your cheek “Whatever you want, it’s yours” he smiled softly, a fond look overtaking his eyes 

“I love you so much Buck”

“I love you too”

Hour 15 - 9 centimeters dilated 

You were about to cry you were so frustrated. You were almost at the finish line but it felt so far away and you were losing hope that your twins were coming anytime soon. Bucky did his best to keep your spirits up with his words of encouragement. “It’s okay pretty girl, we’ll meet them soon. They just like being this close with their mama” he told you. “But I wanna hold them” you cried “I want them out of me and in my arms. Oh- what if they have your eyes? Or my eyes? Aw they’re gonna be beautiful” Bucky chuckled “Of course they will darling” he caressed your cheek “Just a little longer, you got this, my strong girl” 

Hour 18 - 10 centimeters dilated 

When the doctor confirmed that you were fully dilated and ready to push, you started to panic a bit. You’ve given birth before but to twins? What if something goes wrong? What if they take even longer to come out? You looked over at Bucky and whimpered a bit “I’m scared” you admitted to him and he went to cup your face in his hands “You can do this. They’re finally ready to come. And all of this is going to be so worth it when we’re looking at our little princesses right?” he told you as you nodded and took a deep breath and started to push when you were told.

Hour 20 

  After pushing for what felt like forever, you finally gave birth to Aurora and Arabella Barnes. You’ve always wanted to do the stereotypical twins have the same first letter with their names and plus you found the names pretty adorable. You were holding Aurora and Bucky was holding Arabella. They were fast asleep and swaddled in their blankets with little baby hats on their head and they were the most perfect little things you’ve ever seen, along with their brother of course. 

They haven’t opened their eyes yet and you knew they would barely be able to see anything but you wanted to see what their eyes would look like. They had Bucky’s nose, your lips, little chin dimples, they were perfect. You looked up at Bucky and saw that he was crying “Aw babe…” you smiled at him and he looked over at you “I just..oh my god” he sniffled a bit “Look at ‘em. They’re our babies” you giggled “Yeah they are honey”

You looked back down at Aurora and saw she opened her eyes and gasped at what you saw “Bucky, Bucky! Look at her eyes” you grinned and teared up as you saw that she had one blue eye…and one brown eye. “Oh my god” he whispered “Whoa…” “I know!” you giggled and leaned down to kiss her nose “Hi pretty girl, I’m your mama. I’m so glad you and your sister are finally here” you said to her, watching Aurora as she squirmed a little. 

Your full attention was on her you almost didn’t hear Bucky’s gasp. “Doll, guess who just opened their eyes?” your eyes widened as he brought Arabella closer to you and saw that her eyes were the same as her sisters. “Our baby girls” you looked up at him and leaned up to kiss him, happy that you both walked in as a family of three, leaving as a family of five.

[tidbit-fanfic]

okay so I’m severely confused about Sebastian’s contract with Marvel right now…

I was aware that basically he has a set number of movies to go through before he is released. And although I love him tons, this caused a lot of questions raised about Bucky as a character, aka is Bucky going to die, retire, etc.

The last I knew he had three movies on his contract, not counting his cameo in Wakanda Forever.

So how does that work with What If?…

If each season equals one movie, then technically season 3 is it for Seb’s contract, or does it not count?

I mean I have no doubt that Seb will stay with Bucky for as long as he can, seeing as how the character is his literally baby and has been a huge part of his career, but the panic that we could end up with Bucky dying in Thunderbolts is real.

SO I offer alternatives to killing Bucky off:

1. Get him and Alpine and have him retire.

So I am aware of Seb’s cat allergy, but I’m pretty sure he can still be around dogs…get an all white Husky, name it Alpine and boom. Not only will that prevent an allergy attack, but it also kinda plays on the ‘white wolf’ term, and I find it hilarious. Bonus points if Bucky meets Alpine through Sam, making Alpine a military service dog, who is trained to help Buck through his PTSD attacks, as well with simple daily things he could struggle with. As for retiring…I really don’t see Bucky ever truly retiring, but it would be nice to see him take a step back and possibly train the next generation of SHEILD agents maybe? I don’t really know, but Bucky definitely gives the whole ‘Im gonna work until I die’ vibes. Maybe even work as a mechanic or some sort of labor job? I think it would be a waste of the assassin skills to not have him train the next gen, but I’ll take what I can get.

Actually, that’s the only idea I have, but I do have notes about what NOT to do.

Don’t have him and Sharon end up together. (Please don’t.)

Don’t send him back in time. (I feel like this is self explanatory)

Don’t kill him please.

As for the Sharon thing because I do believe I need to explain:

Even though they’ve had zero on-screen tension, I could see Marvel Studios pulling that relationship out of their ass. And that’s just. No.

I really don’t see Bucky as a character who could easily fall into a relationship and have kids. With all of his trauma and issues, I just cannot see him ending up in a long-term relationship, especially with someone like Sharon. It’s just too close to essentially being a Steve prt.2 And him ending up with Sarah also seems to be a bit out there.

Bucky just doesn’t seem like the type to settle down, and if he does, it’s probably not going to be on-screen, and definitely not with someone who’s life is entirely put together. (I’m a sucker for the we can fix each other type relationships)

I mean, this man could also return to Wakanda and I dunno, figure something out.

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK…imma crawl back under a rock now.

[i-had-a-dream-that]

I am a married very large man worked at a pearl farm and despite his large hands, was very very deft at his job. I constantly worked 3 times as fast as everyone with the least damage to the meat of the oyster for reuse and was truly in love with the woman I called my wife, despite having spoken no vows. I- He even had other women, second wives and such but for some reason they did not marry – but they had kids. The other wives mocked the woman for her flat chest, while they are all more… heavily endowed than she and mock her to her face.

One night, the husband was told he had to work the next morning's shift and due to his extreme labor he is near his breaking point. His wife approaches and she hugs him gently as their 14 year old son approaches and talks to the boss. The boss is unpleasant to the child (due to being born out of wedlock) and he says “oh, youre the kid who pays for your father?” and the son responds “yes, because you’re the one who demands we pay before we earn our work.” The father retreats to his room where he huddles down in the corner away from his wife’s raised bed and his hands shake heavily.

His wife, having been told by him to lay down, now laying down, tells him that all will be well and a noise calls him outside. He goes and a man in a draping lace hat greets him and asks what he needs done “for the sake of his pearl.” The man asks to flood the channel where he works, not expecting him to do it. But we watch as the man goes inside to rest and the covered man leaves. The woman leaves her bed to get a drink or use the restroom idk, and leaves her bed empty. 

 We then watch the covered man float to the open ocean where the channel has giant complex structures at the inlet and he raises his arms up and back and a giant wall of waves goes over it and causes the beds to be damaged. Back to the man’s house, one of the second wives wakes up the emperor’s concubine and tells her the master wants her in his room and the concubine (who had somehow come to stay with them for the night) who had come to love the man for a long time believes it was for him to lay with her. The concubine enters and lays on the empty raised bed, which she assumed was meant for her and his activities and was very shy so she lay off to one side.  

The man, now laying next to it cannot see her and asks her to move closer, she does. It cuts back to the channel, where the second shift is starting and it is revealed that the Chinese are taking this day’s batch and they have already been packed up in pentagon shaped wooden boxes. The shift lead is very angry. But the other guy is solid when he says the Chinese are taking over the day’s load as they assess the damage to the bed and how everyone must go home for the day. The shift lead looks to the boxes and thinks to himself the huge waste that those make up and how the company is making a huge waste for sending the oysters to the Chinese district for processing. Back in the man’s room he asks “will you not let me touch you?” the concubine brings her one finger down and he grasps it gently, the man is imagining his wife’s embarrassed blushing face yelling “no!” as she did in her youth. It makes him blush and smile. 

 He starts to rise and the concubine starts to speak all fumble from nerves and calls him her rose and how she’s always loved him and how she is so happy he feels the same. He reaches to her hair and finds it a bit wavier than before and says so, but assumes it is due to the heavy blowing winds lately and he reaches for her shoulder, but in the dark touches her chest instead and feels what his wife does not have, boobs. Cut to hands reaching under a roll of cloth and pulling out a tiny scroll, seeing a few visible under the easily female hand and the one in hand is unscrolled, now back to the man. He demands to know who she is and why she is in he and his wife’s chambers.

The wife returns and sees the scene with greater pain but knows nothing happened due to the anger on her husband’s face while it shows the second wife who awoke the concubine unscrolls the secret confession letter after confession letter written to the man from the concubine's property. He drags her out to the room where all of his second wives are sleeping alongside the concubines bed (as their home was getting repaired after the wave or something) and they are waking up by the many due to the usually silent man’s yelling and his mother awakens too and demands to know.  

The second wife brings one of the letters to her and the mother reads it and yells “WHAT IS THIS?! WE BROUGHT YOU INTO OUR HOME AND WE EVEN BROUGHT YOU INTO THE IMPERIAL PALACE AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US. YOU HATEFUL CHILD! CALL THE EMPEROR'S GUARDS.” It is revealed that she is the man's cousin and was given to the emperor as a political boon by the man's grandfather and uncle who were government officials before something happened and the family lost its wealth and status and resorted to have the man work in an oyster farm. Nobles only in name. Now, she was simply an unloved forgotten concubine who had not even had her first night with the young emperor yet, and she dare try this? The grandmother calls for the emperor’s guards and that was the end. 

It all felt so real.

[dakotacrisis]

Deal’s End

Marinette is working on an occult design for Juleka when a stray dodgeball hits her in the face. She bleeds all over her design and through this accidentally summons the demon whose sigil she had been sketching. The demon now cannot leave until a deal has been struck. Unfortunately for both of them Marinette isn’t ready to give up her soul that easily.

I have no self control! Got this idea after seeing a one-time-i-dreamt post about accidentally summoning a demon by drawing pentagrams. There are going to be more chapters of this. Nothing too long, right now I have it plotted out at about twelve so it should go by pretty quickly. Also there are no kwamis or powers in this Felinette AU. Happy reading!

(Read on AO3)

---

There are some deals that should never be struck. No matter how tempting they sound. It can only end up hurting you. There was a saying, if it sounds too good to be true then it is. It was this frame of mind that Marinette held. She would admit she was an optimist but she never once pretended that her dreams could come true with a single wish. Anything in this life, she would have to work for and earn.

Marinette’s dream was to one day grow up to be a famous fashion designer. At fifteen though it was still only a dream but she worked to build her skills and name as much as she could. Taking on commissions and such were just one way hone her abilities. And hopefully one day she would see the fruits of her labor.

At the moment Marinette sat off to the side of the open courtyard where her classmates were playing dodgeball. She was sitting out due to a twisted ankle she incurred running to get to class on time after sleeping in. While she did like a good game she was more than content to sit off to the side and work on a commission for her friend Juleka.

Juleka had always been a more gothic personality and Marinette had known it was only a matter of time until she came to her for something occult-ish. The design was nothing major. A couple patches that Juleka could put on her bag with satanic looking sigils and pentagrams and stuff on them. Personally Marinette steered clear of occult stuff. She liked the aesthetic but the actual practice gave her the heebie jeebies. Oh you’re going to this abandoned asylum and where a bunch of people died and playing with a ouija board? Hard pass!

Right now Marinette was trying to sketch the sigil Juleka gave her in her notebook. Different demons had different sigils and Juleka wanted one that wasn’t hugely known like Lucifer or Leviathan. It was either smart thinking or ‘I liked this demon before you’ flexing.

And done! The sigil kinda looked like an abstract butterfly now that Marinette finalized it. Now she just had to work this design onto a patch and--

“Marinette!” Someone shouted.

Marinette looked up just in time to see that bright red rubber ball flying straight at her. She can only blink before it smacks her right in the face with a resounding P’TANG! Or maybe that’s what the noise was. All Marinette could hear was the ringing in her ears as her brain tried to catch up with the hit it just took.

“Holy crap! Marinette, are you alright?” Her friend Alya ran over to check on her. “Kim! What the hell was that?”

“Sorry! I was aiming at Alix but it missed and...oh shit, your nose is bleeding.”

“It is?” Marinette touched her nose and winced. A little smear of blood rubbed off on her hand. She stared down at her notebook and groaned when she saw the splattering of blood on the page. “Perfect.” She ripped the ruined page out and used it stunt the flow of blood.

“Do you need to go to the nurse?” Alya asked, helping Marinette to her feet.

“No, I think I just need to clean up.” Marinette started limping towards the bathroom. “If I see it bruising I’ll head to the nurse.”

The bell for the next class rung and Marinette told Alya to let Ms. Bustier know she was going to be late.

With that Marinette walked into the bathroom and dropped the paper in the trash. She grabbed a couple paper towels to wipe the blood off. The bleeding had been short lived but god did her face hurt. She would probably end up down at the nurse for an ice pack if nothing else. First her ankle now her nose, what else could she hurt before fourth period?

She bent closer to the sink to wash the last of the blood away. When she came back up to dry her face she noticed someone in the mirror behind her. She gave a started yelp and turned around to see who was there.

At first her brain tried to say it was Adrien but the boy standing behind her but the sharp red suit told her different. “Uh hi?” Marinette grabbed a paper towel to wipe her face, “You’re in the girl’s restroom.”

“So it seems.” the boy nodded. The guy was the definition of well-groomed. Perfectly styled blonde hair, not a crease in his clothes, clear skin, and polished shoes. He looked around her age, maybe a little older it was hard to tell. He had one of those faces. And currently is was fixed in a bored expression as he calmly regarded the alarmed girl in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” Marinette asked.

“You summoned me.” Red suit boy replied.

“No. I didn’t ask for anyone.” Marinette started to inch towards the door. “And if I was going to ask for help I would have gotten one of my friends, not...whoever you are.”

“Let me be more clear.” Red suit boy pulled out a wad of paper that Marinette hadn’t seen him holding before. He unfurled it to show the paper Marinette had ripped out of her sketch book and now covered in her blood. “You see this mark you drew here? That’s my mark. See the blood washed all over it? That’s your blood. Ergo, you summoned me.”

The pieces started to fit together but Marinette wasn’t liking the picture. “Are you trying to tell me that you are some kind of demon that I summoned by having a nosebleed on my sketch book?”

“Yes. Exactly that.”

“Nope.” She shook her head, “I think I have a concussion. Yes. That blow to the head created you and I should be getting to the nurse.”

Marinette quickly rushed out of the restroom and started making her way to the nurse. She was down the hall towards the nurse’s station when she saw red suit demon boy in front of her again. “But--” she pointed back towards the restroom, “But you were--how did--?”

“I would really like if you would stop trying to rationalize me away and accept what you have done.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Obviously,” he gestured to himself, “you did. Or else I wouldn’t be here.”

“I am in too much pain to be dealing with this.” Marinette turned to go back to class. She needed an ice pack but she didn’t want to get closer to the literal demon at the other end of the hall. “Go away and leave me alone!”

He spawned right in front of her again causing her to quickly back up to avoid running into him. That same bored expression lingered on his face. “I’m not leaving.”

“Why not? I didn’t mean to summon you. I cannot believe that something like this is even happening. So please, go back to whatever hellhole you crawled out of and leave me alone.”

“Would if I could but I unfortunately cannot.” Demon boy started walking next to her as she ascended the stairs back to class. “You summoned me and so I am bound to you until I have fulfilled my duty.”

“And what duty is that?”

“To strike a deal.”

“Too bad I’m not in the habit of making deals with demons.”

“Not many people are. You’d be surprised how little demons are called upon nowadays. Back in the olden times there wasn’t a single weekend where I could--”

“That all sounds like a lovely history lesson but I have literature class to get back to. Bye.” Marinette strolled into the classroom and firmly closed the door behind her. She sat down at her desk and let out a sigh of relief.

“You alright? Did you go to the nurse?” Alya whispered.

“I’m fine.” Marinette pulled out her notes. “I’m having a long day is all.”

She looked up to see where they were in the lesson and nearly fell out of her chair when she saw demon boy sitting on the teacher’s desk. He was staring directly at her. Marinette gazed around the room but no one else seemed to notice he was there.

“Are you sure you don’t need to go home early? You seem really spaced.” Alya asked, worried.

“It’s going to be a long day.” Marinette muttered, glaring at the unbothered demon.

Marinette’s gaze never left the demon during the entire class. She tried to focus on Ms. Bustier but her attention kept being drawn back to him. He would walk around the room peering at the other students and messing with the lights so they flickered incessantly. She shot him a dirty look which made him stop and he instead started pestering her by talking over Ms. Bustier’s lesson. When class was finally over Marinette told her friends to head on to lunch without her. She needed to have a word with her unwanted guest.

“That was so boring.” The demon boy sighed, “How can you cope with that every day?”

“Why won’t you leave?” Marinette snapped.

“I told you before. I can’t leave until we make a deal. All of which I would have explained from the beginning if you hadn’t insisted on trying to get away from me.”

“You’re a demon! Of course I was trying to get away from you!” Marinette seethed, “Also, am I correct in assuming that no one else can see you but me?”

“Yes. Why? Didn’t like me attending class with you?”

“No. Oddly enough I didn’t.” Marinette sat back down at her desk. It was a good thing no one was here or else she would look insane talking to thin air. “Okay, you’re a demon and you’re bound to me to make a deal. What exactly does that mean?”

“Oh, you’re actually going to let me explain are you?”

“Talk now or else I’ll get a spray bottle full of holy water to spritz you with.”

“Someone’s touchy.” The demon boy shrugged. “I’ll forego all the theatrics and pretty words since I would like to get out of here myself. I am bound to strike a deal with you and I cannot leave until one has been made. Think of it as a wish. Whatever your heart desires I will provide in return for a certain price.”

“Am I right in assuming this price is my eternal soul?”

“I mean depending on what you ask for, yes. Not all deals are equivalent to your soul. Most are but those are usually just the popular ones. Fame, wealth, revenge, etcetera. So tell me, what is it you want most...Magdalene?”

“Marinette.”

“Right. What would you like?”

“I’m not going to make a deal with you.”

“Yes you are. Or else I’ll never leave. So tell me, what do you want?”

“I told you I am not going to make a deal with you! I am not giving up my soul or anything else for what you’re offering.”

“Can we please skip this bit?” He rolled his eyes, “I’ve seen enough people try to hold out from making deals to know that you’re going to end up caving anyway. Now tell me what it is your selfish little heart desires.”

“No!”

“Come on!” he groaned, “I said please. Stop trying to think you can wiggle your way out of this by being stubborn.”

“I’m not making a deal!” Marinette huffed and strode out of the room. “And you can go back to hell!”

He fell into step beside her as she limped her way up to the cafeteria. “How many times do I have to say that I’m not leaving until you get it?”

“I really don’t like you.” She grumbled.

“And here I thought we were getting along so well.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, “Come on love, there has to be something you want. An impossible dream you want to achieve? Revenge on someone who did you wrong? The love of someone far from your reach? Do you not have any goals in life?”

“I have dreams and goals and people I like that don’t like me back but I am not about to cheat to get any of them.” she pushed his arm off of her. “Whatever I get in this life I will earn honestly in my own way in my own time.”

“Satan give me strength, you’re one of those people?” The demon sighed loudly. “You know that all this hard work you’re putting in will most likely go nowhere right? Those dreams that you think are so easy to achieve if you just put in enough elbow grease and strive forward with a can do attitude will crash and burn. Then you end up in the position you are right now. Looking for an easy route to everything you want.”

He stopped her, tickling a finger under her chin. She hadn’t noticed it before but his eyes were grey. Unnaturally so. They almost looked like sparkling silver in the fluorescent light. He grinned with teeth that seemed a tad too sharp to be human. “All you have to do is ask for it and I can make it so.”

“Not today.” she spat, “Not ever.” She walked around him and continued on with her head held high.

The rest of the day her demon lurked in the corner. He wasn’t causing mischief but his eyes never left her the entire time. She could feel them on her and it sent a shiver up her spine to think about.

When the day finally ended she booked it back to her house and locked herself in her room. Her gaze swept the room but he was nowhere to be seen. Hours passed and still she had seen neither hide nor hair of the demon that had been plaguing her. Perhaps it was all just a stress induced hallucination. It seemed that the second she got home and took some medicine for her aching face he ceased to be. It felt safe to deem this whole thing a weird experience and lay it to rest.

Relieved that the ordeal was over she started getting ready for bed. After today she felt like she deserved a little pampering and ran a hot bubble bath complete with some scented candles and her favorite face mask.

She sunk down into the water with a happy sigh. Her eyes sliding closed as she relished in the warmth. Yeah, she needed this.

Then she felt it. A shiver down her spine. She opened her eyes and had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. Her demon was sitting on her toilet staring at her with that same bored expression. “What the hell--!”

“Thought you got rid of me?” he smirked, “I wanted to see how you acted when you thought I wasn’t here. It’s a nice set up you got here, what are the candles? Honey blossom?”

“Get out!”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m in the bath!” she curled into herself thankful that the bubbles held cover her modesty.

“So?”

“What do you mean, so? I’m naked!”

“And what? You think it is anything special? Do you have any idea how old I am? You are certainly not the first naked body I’ve seen and I doubt you’ll be the last.”

“I don’t care! Get out!”

That little grin on his face grew wider and he slid off the toilet to sit at the edge of the tub. “You know, if you really want me to leave you could always make a deal with me. Then I would have to go.”

“I already told you my answer. I will not make a deal with a perverted demon like you!”

“Oh please, I’ve met Asmodeus. Trust me when I say I am nowhere near the most perverted demon out there. That being said,” He stared more closely at the bubbles around her and with a snap of his fingers they all popped, “Doesn’t mean I can’t still watch you squirm.”

Marinette quickly reached for her towel and wrapped it around herself. She didn’t care if she was sitting buck naked in tepid water with a glob of pink clay on her face. She was not going to give him the satisfaction. She’d wait until the water turned ice cold if that’s what it took.

She can only wait as the minutes tick by and the demon plays his jokes to try and annoy her into making a deal with him. Still she remains steadfast until he eventually gets bored and leaves. Quickly she rinses the mask off and crawls out of the bath and throws on her robe.

She peers around her room to make sure he isn’t lurking in the shadows before getting dressed. Even then she did as much as she could with her robe still on so he couldn’t pop in while she was putting on her panties.

The thought that the demon is still nearby waiting and possibly watching her kept her up late into the night until her eyes couldn’t stay open anymore and she drifted off to sleep. Whoever this demon was he did not have a single idea who he was dealing with. If he thought some juvenile pranks and an invasion of her privacy was enough to get her to bend then he was sorely mistaken. Marinette was nothing if not stubborn and this demon was about to learn exactly that.

---

(2)

[theseerasures]

Conspicuous Media Consumption, 2020

it’s that time of year again! *saddest toot from the party horn*

for those of you just joining us: it’s a “consume a different content every week for 48 weeks of the year” challenge. for a longer explanation, check out last year’s write-up here, and as always, feel free to pop in and ask questions about any and all of this content.

(same disclaimer as last year too: content for this project ONLY here, and not certain...*looks at my billion Sad Cop Lady posts*...hyperfixations.)

(man remember when i was big into X-Men comics earlier this year? better times than these, if only because no one's discoursing about Emma Frost’s woobie/war criminal ratio anymore--her w/w, if you will)

(...i swear at one point i didn’t exclusively like platinum blondes but alas)

Bitter Root (comic, 1 issue finished 1/1/2020): still very cool on a basic concept level, but runs into the Image Comics problem of just not having enough content to keep my interest beyond that. part of that is on me, for picking it up again BEFORE the second arc rolled out, but the first five issues didn’t really follow (or resolve) any cohesive story either, so...meh.

Immortal Hulk (comic, 3 trades finished 1/17/2020): still not gonna be something i care deeply about (maybe one of Bruce’s Hulksonas dyed his hair???), but i do want to give kudos to Al Ewing for sheer consistency in terms of sustaining this level of quality storytelling month by month for more than two years now. working with the dense archive of the Hulk mythos and managing to make it interesting and thoughtful is impressive even if i personally would not expend the same effort.

Disco Elysium (game, finished 1/18/2020): honestly i should have twigged onto what this year was gonna be like when the third thing i drew from the barrel was pure uncut Eastern European flavored depression. i faintly recall people ragging on it for being pretentiously cynical, but i actually thought its core slid more towards idealism than people give it credit for. also gratified that i haven’t heard anything about Robert Kurvitz using slave labor to finish it, which is a thing we have to say about our video games now!!! fun.

Watchmen (TV, 7 episodes finished 1/27/2020): i am a fool who wants to believe in Damon Lindelof and I WAS RIGHT!!! honestly still cannot believe that he pulled off this highwire act with such deft aplomb. might be my favorite TV this year, which is a pretty high bar given how much TV i ended up watching.

On a Sunbeam (comic, finished 2/1/2020): Tillie Walden rightly deserves all the praise for inventive queer storytelling, but i will say that on reread--since i first read this as a webcomic--there ARE some issues with pacing here that clearly come from the foibles of its original intended medium. still just excellent, even if after some plot significant haircuts i was having trouble telling a few folks apart.

Lazarus (comic, 1 trade finished 2/8/2020): it’s so good and i want moooooorrrreee--though obviously Rucka and Lark have the right to take all the time they need. the newer longer issues work really well with the epic prestige drama vibes of the story! i’m into it.

The Good Place (TV, 4 seasons finished 2/18/2020): i’m gonna be super honest: i actually wasn’t a big fan of the finale, nor the last season as a whole. it felt like all of Eleanor’s flaws vanished for a majority of the season, and the Chidi-centric episode where they tried to give a legible justification for why he’s Like This was...i didn’t care for it. still, it’s so good and unique on the WHOLE that we’ll literally never get anything like this ever again, and that counts for a lot.

The Old Republic (game, finished 2/21/2020): it’s an MMO so it will never actually Be Finished so long as the servers aren’t shut down, but i caught up on the content i’d missed in the intervening months. Onslaught thus far has mostly been...kinda bland tbh; going back to Imps vs. Rebs after all the shakeups in the previous expansions feels like a waste.

High Road (album, finished 2/22/2020): someone should tell Kesha not to say that word!! otherwise i was very happy with this album, and happy FOR her even though we don’t know each other. being able to find joy again in the same genre of music you made while you were being horrifically exploited is very cool.

Young Justice (TV, 13 episodes finished 2/28/2020): given how much the middle stuff dragged--STOP KILLING YOUR HIJABI CHARACTER IN HORRIFIC WAYS--i was...actually kinda mad by how the end managed to stick the landing anyway. the day being saved by Vic’s self-acceptance and Violet’s sublime compassion was A+, and even the Brion/Tara switchup was a pleasant surprise, though it relied on me caring about Brion MUCH MORE than i actually did.

Manic (album, finished 2/29/2020): do people still care for/about Halsey? i feel like even That One Song that was on every tumblr gifset ever has kinda faded into obscurity at this point. this album was...okay. i feel like people give Halsey a pass for extremely obvious lyrical turns that they wouldn’t for other folks because of her subject material--which is fine. not really my cup of tea, but i also listened to lots of Relient K this year, so that’s probably a good thing.

Jade Empire (game, 3/10/2020): the only 3D-era Bioware game that didn’t franchise out, and for good fucking reason!!! the Orientalism and appropriation really haven’t aged well, and even beyond that the story was...standard Bioware faire. even my usual “my wife’s a bitch i love her” Bioware type didn’t do it for me, and i just ended up romancing no one. it did make me think a lot about what level of cultural borrowing is accepted nowadays, and why: people still look fondly at Avatar and talk about how ~accurate and respectful it was, for example, despite it being staffed almost entirely by white folks, and the Orientalism ALL OVER the monk class in DND is still fine for some reason.

Alif the Unseen (book, finished 3/31/2020): interesting to have read this AFTER reading The Bird King last year, because it highlights how the intervening years have shifted G. Willow Wilson’s thematic interest and improved her craft. i’m actually quite fond of how her characterization work is rougher here--Alif is extremely flawed to the point of being insufferable, but it makes his development by the end more satisfying. Dina is also just good and i love her

Baldur’s Gate (2 games, finished 5/31/2020): well, having finally finished the series i’m happy to say that it...still doesn’t really do it for me, sorry. any awesome story moments were overshadowed by the EXCRUCIATING inventory management system and the combat (i still don’t know what a THAC0 is and at this point i’m afraid to find out). these games crucially lack the Home Base that later Bioware games were so good about, and that (coupled with the huge cast of characters you can drop off and never see again) really hurts the intimacy for me. by the time we finally did get one it was the Hell Dimension in Throne of Bhaal, and i was just...trying to get through it. (yes, i did just say that about one of the most beloved expansions ever to one of the most beloved games ever.) THIS particular iteration of “my wife’s a bitch i love her” was very good, but the game wouldn’t let me romance her :(

The Underground Railroad (book, finished 6/19/2020): honestly what is there even left to say at this point! it was exactly as good as every critic on the planet said it was, even with my usual aversion to hype. draining and horrifying in turns but still insistent upon a future for Black folks.

Steven Universe (6 seasons and a mooooooviiieeee, finished 7/11/2020): yes, i DID finish the show and almost immediately begin a rewatch. this series is now one of my top five most formative things, and the amount of love and respect i have for it is incalculable. that said: i once again did not love how the central conflict of Future was resolved (just the resolution--i loved the finale just fine). for all of Steven’s breakdown was built up, resolving it with “EVERYONE HUG HIM UNTIL HE CRIES” felt...cheap, especially since up until this point the show had been so good about treating trauma and mental illness with the respect and nuance it deserves. it made me wish some of the earlier, less substantial episodes had been cut so we could spend more time at the end.

What It Is (comic, finished 8/19/2020): y’all i love Lynda Barry SO MUCH. for the longest time i was worried that One Hundred Demons was more a lightning in a bottle situation but every book of hers i pick up makes me feel obscure emotions i didn’t even realize existed. the compassionate way she’s able to describe her child self and how weird and fucked up she was (and still is) is honestly aspirational.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (TV, 5 seasons finished 9/26/2020): so here’s a reversal of what i’ve been complaining about with other shows: i was mostly lukewarm-to-warm about She-Ra, but the later seasons and the finale made me much more into it as a whole. more shows should improve in stakes and overall quality as they age tbh!! i still don’t actively love Catradora (my sole quibble with season 5 actually has to do with the way Adora kept backsliding as a character to make certain Plot/Relationship things happen), but i’m very happy for them nonetheless. i can certainly appreciate a show that will go for High Feeling over tight plot. dark horse standout moments: trees growing everywhere proving that Perfuma Was Right, and Hordak and Adora seeing each other--that weirdly intimate moment of recognition.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters (album, finished 10/7/2020): again i find myself not having much to say that no one else has said. it’s good! once again love it when an artist reclaims something they’d attached with negative affect (anxiety, depression, disordered eating) for better and brighter things.

Solutions and Other Problems (comic, finished 10/25/2020): i was very into Allie Brosh’s ambition with this book, which feels weird to say but i stand by it. it’s cool to see an artist try to make a new medium work for them instead of just sticking to what already works. not all the experimentation was 100% effective, but it was still delightful and occasionally devastating to read, so.

Legend of Zelda (3 games: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Link Between Worlds, finished 11/1/2020): this was the third time i’d played Ocarina of Time, which made it the nice, comforting groove i settled into before Majora’s Mask blatted me in the face. i’m not usually a completionist Zelda person because...the gameplay in Zelda is bad, do not at me it just is, but i really felt like i HAD to be one for Majora’s Mask since the whole point is to get attached to the banalities of the town. i’m sure nobody’s surprised that i loved it, even if it gave me an existential crisis about how life goes on in the game for NPCs when you’re not there to save them from it, and there’s not enough time to save them all all the time (also not a surprise to anyone: Romani and Cremia gave Personal Feelings). Link Between Worlds...bad. not like in a “this is a bad story by every measurable gauge” way, but i was already struggling with the 2D playstyle shift enough that for the whole story to end with some “yes it’s v sad that Lorule is Like This but trying to steal Hyrule’s privilege is Even Worse Actually” noblesse oblige bullshit left a VERY poor taste in my mouth, this year of all years. i did audibly gasp when Ravio took off his mask, though. i’m currently playing Breath of the Wild in cautious increments; it’s the first time i’ve enjoyed early Zelda gameplay, but if they wanted fully voiced cutscenes i wish they got voice actors who...knew what words sound like.

folklore (album, finished 11/6/2020): my belief that Taylor Swift is Just Fine continues, i’m afraid. i LIKED this album, don’t get me wrong, and respect her constant drive to innovate, but i didn’t love it substantially more or less than any other Taylor Swift album. mostly i’m just tickled by how she thinks leaning into the indie aesthetic means borrowing Vita Sackville-West’s entire wardrobe, though i will admit to feeling Something when she swore in a song. i think it was like. savage vindication?? you go ahead and swear, Taylor Swift. you deserve it.

Shore (album, finished 11/19/2020): do people still care about the Fleet Foxes? i think there was some Drama with Josh Tillman a while back but i don’t remember where the discourse landed with who was being more problematic. it was nostalgic for me to listen to their new album--made me remember being an undergrad who exclusively listened to men who mumbled and played acoustic guitar all over again.

Star Wars (3 movies: original trilogy, finished 11/27/2020): there is So Much bad Star Wars these days that every time i rewatch the original trilogy i’m afraid that they will suddenly be bad, but guess what! they’re not. i love these children and their hot mess stories, i love that Lando doesn’t know how to say his best friend’s name. what stood out to me this time was the way Obi-Wan described the Force in A New Hope, which strongly implied that ANYONE can be Force Sensitive; that obviously faded with each subsequent movie, but part of me does wish they’d kept it.

X of Swords (comics, 22 issues finished 12/5/2020): i am enjoying Hickman’s X-lines!!! not so much here for the Grand Conspiracy or whatever, but the character work and highkey weirdness is fabulous--they FEEL like X-Men, despite all the shakeups in-universe. this crossover is a nice microcosm of all that: grandiloquently all over the place, but still full of cool standout moments and genuine hilarity. ILLYANA DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO SPELL MAGIC.

Fire Emblem (4 games: Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn, Awakening, finished 12/14/2020): this was the thing that i was closest to giving up early on, but i ended up hyperfixating on it instead. that’s a credit to what the gameplay does to my lizard brain more than anything else, because the story and character writing is...insipid. it was very bizarre to witness this franchise blunder around with its animal-people racism allegory around the same time i was getting back into RWBY, and ITS animal-people racism allegory blunders. Awakening was the first time i felt anything for the franchise beyond “teehee red units disappear make exp bar go up and brain go ding,” so i’m excited for more mature storytelling in subsequent games (they MUST get better. they MUST). the child husbandry thing is...very bad tho, and Apotheosis being “challenging” entirely through the game changing all the rules is also bad.

once again no vidya games that came out this year--i’ll probably pick up Spiritfarer or Hades after the New Year, though (or maybe TLOU II! but probably not. sry Laura and Ashley). more TV and franchises this year, which made me feel In Touch with the Children but was also kinda exhausting. nothing was so egregiously terrible i dropped it without finishing! in a year like this that feels almost like an accomplishment

[whereistheonepiece]

So @lesbian-space-ranger​ and I accidentally created a new Zosan AU that we’ve been talking about since last night. A note: half of this is me summarizing, half of it is pulled directly from Discord because Cas (lesbian-space-ranger) has such great ideas.

This is a long post. I don’t feel like putting it under a read more. So. Enjoy. Or keep scrolling. Either works.

So this post happened

These roles just came to me. Didn’t need to give it much thought because Sanji has the appearance and demeanor of a lead singer and I like the idea of him using his skilled hands to play piano at the same time.

I also watched the movie Rocketman earlier in the week. You know, that Elton John biopic. I adored it and it’s been heavy on my mind lately and I liked the idea of Sanji giving a high energy performance from the piano. (Sir Elton John’s music comes into play later.)

And as for Zoro, I find the bass and/or the beat the sexiest part of the music in a song and, naturally, I can see him rocking at either.

So I asked Cas if she had any other headcanons for this AU and this thing is too good to not share.

Yeah, so Zoro and Sanji are in a boy band with Usopp and Luffy. Luffy started the band. Luffy does guitar, Zoro is on bass, Usopp is on drums, and Sanji is on keyboard and vocals.

Nami is their manager. She works them hard and has taken a 40% cut of the profits because of the guys’ naivete and inexperience. But she’s why they took off. She booked their gigs at every venue she could manage, no matter how small.

They got their big break when Nami met Vivi, who’s a talent scout for the record label Baroque Works. Nami insisted that Vivi had to see the boys perform because they’re something else and Vivi’s heard that a thousand times, but she agreed because Nami is cute. Nami and Vivi are dating. Also, re Baroque Works: Crocodile looks like a sleazy music producer, doesn’t he? So does Doflamingo.

So Sanji is the pretty one, Luffy is the funny one, Zoro is the quiet/broody one, and Usopp is the smart one.

Zoro has a lot of deals with fitness brands, but secretly finds the famous life unfulfilling. This comes back later, so keep that in your back pocket.

Robin runs their social media. She’s so good at her job, running all of their accounts and tweeting simultaneously, you’d swear she had four sets of hands. Wink.

Franky does pyrotechnics/lighting.

Brook is their stylist.

Chopper was their first real fan. He and Zoro grew up in the same neighborhood and Chopper just always idolized him. He followed them before anyone knew their names. He was their hype man, saying encouraging things like "I know you guys are gonna be great!" He believed in them even when they didn't believe in themselves.

Usopp set up their recordings before they got signed because he’s savvy. And then Chopper would sell their crappy CDs. At these tiny gigs. Like coffeehouses and stuff.

Sanji can play keyboard because his parents forced him to play piano as a kid. They had this idea that classical music would teach him discipline and make him smarter. This is how he meets Zeff. Zeff’s your typical stern instructor, but he’s the first adult to ask Sanji what he actually wants and likes. Zeff sees Sanji’s not into it so he asks him what music he likes and Sanji tells him he likes pop, so Zeff gives Sanji a more rounded education. This includes Elton John because I say so. It did inspire me to put Sanji on keyboard, after all.

But other than being Sanji’s piano instructor, Zeff becomes the one positive adult figure in young Sanji’s life and he becomes something of a mentor figure for him. Zeff has a garden and he lets Sanji work in it with him. This garden is how Sanji gets his “little eggplant” nickname. Sanji pulls an eggplant out before it’s ready and it’s so small and pitiful and Zeff won’t let him live it down. Like, Sanji keeps in touch with Zeff even into adulthood and after he makes it big and he still calls Sanji little eggplant.

Zoro and Sanji are always doing that, "Kind of flirting, not really” thing on stage.  Sanji is always like walking up to Zoro on stage and acting like he's going to kiss him but pushing him away at the last moment. And it's this huge mystery whether they're actually an item or not. This comes from Nami. Sanji and Zoro have this natural chemistry with each other that leads to speculation and Nami, knowing how boy band fan bases work, saw dollar signs. But it’s not just pragmatism on her part; she knows that one cannot simply go up to Zoro and Sanji and say “You obviously like each other. You should date.” So she makes money and helps her friends find happiness.

Usopp has speculation going on as well. People are always confused as to who he’s dating. Tabloids keep being like "Usopp dumped Nami and is now dating Luffy!" "Luffy Scorned?" "Luffy ditches Usopp and steals his girl!" And they just think the entire thing is hilarious. They collect headlines. The answer is Usopp is dating Luffy and Nami and Luffy and Nami just become really affectionate with each other after dating Usopp long enough. Also Nami is dating Vivi, like I mentioned, and sometimes Nami brings her on as a plus one. 

Sanji and Zoro keep giving conflicting answers about their relationship status. Like they'll tell one person they hate each other and another person they're gonna get married someday. Sanji has to walk this fine line of being "in love" with all of his female fans and also "in love" with Zoro. Or not. Who knows? Like Sanji enjoys the attention but he really really plays shit up for his fangirls. This makes Sanji even more popular. Just picture pages upon pages of Sanji/Reader and “Zanji” fics on Wattpad. Nami is one smart lady. "I am the smartest, prettiest, most clever person alive."

Zosan getting together really is just a bunch of Fake Dating tropes. At first it really is just to get more press for the band. Nami schemes with Usopp and Robin to push them together. Robin's a social media genius and knows how to craft tweets and Instagram posts that fans will overanalyze. 

Meanwhile eventually Zoro and Sanji admit to each other they have actual feelings and one day Usopp finds Sanji sleeping in Zoro's bed, both of them completely tuckered out. But they don’t know Nami crafted this. They just come clean and hope she won't be mad and she's like, "Yes! Finally!" and they're like "What?" and she's like, "I've been waiting for you two to realize you have actual feelings. Did you really think I'd just use you for profit like that?" and they're both like "Yes" "Of course"

Zoro’s mad at her for meddling. Secretly he’s grateful, but he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction and he’s yelling until Sanji grabs his hand and he just calms down.

And to bring Elton John back into the picture, just picture Sanji doing a cover of “Your Song” and uploading it online and thinking about Zoro. Naturally the comments are abuzz with people speculating that he’s singing about Zoro. And like. Onstage Sanji does his rendition and sends these small glances Zoro’s way, partially because he knows it’ll get the band a lot of attention, partially because that song is sweet and beautiful and it’s such a simple way to explain his feelings. (There is a reason why Moulin Rouge included it!!) I imagine this happens before they come clean to each other. Like, Zoro comes to him and is all “I keep thinking about that song you did...” And they go from there.

And eventually the band comes to its natural end. 

Usopp goes solo and flourishes, working as a songwriter and a producer. He wrote the band’s songs and he’s had a drum kit since he was, like, ten and he can make his own beats. He’s not the singing type (though he is good at it and could reach new heights if he came out of his shell), so he’s the kind of artist who makes the beat and then gets super famous pop singers to feature on his tracks. But he also writes songs for other singers and is so good at it and produces other artists’ tracks. I also like the idea that he’s taught himself to play multiple instruments, but he prefers the drums/percussion. He totally played percussion in school and was in marching band. I was in marching band for one year. I loathed every second of it, but I know he’d be phenomenal in drum corps.

Luffy isn’t much in music anymore, but he keeps himself busy. He’s something of an influencer, the kind of celebrity who gets paid to wear fashion brands’ clothing. He’s also Usopp’s trophy husband, living off the money he made off the band. Usopp grew wise to Nami’s antics and made sure he and Luffy would live comfortably for the rest of their lives, even if Usopp were to retire. Luffy also is secretly a Buzzfeed journalist because it’s fun for him to write these hit articles and people not know it’s him because he’s writing on this super bland pseudonym. 

And then there’s Zosan. They have a falling out after the band splits and go their separate ways.

Sanji quits being a professional singer because he’s tired of the prying into his personal life, but he still mentors and/or teaches. He has a string of girlfriends and finds no fulfillment in those relationships because the women are only interested in his celebrity.

And they aren’t Zoro.

Zoro tried branching off into commercials for fitness, but his heart wasn’t in it. He kind of takes up ranching on a whim and learns that he’s really good at it. He likes the physical labor, the quiet, being away from it all, nobody knowing his name. He doesn’t pursue anyone after Sanji because he feels like if it’s meant to be, someone will appear.

And Sanji does.

Sanji finds out where Zoro is through Luffy. So he makes his way to the ranch and finds Zoro and Sanji is all “Come back. I miss you.”

And there’s just a lot of soft Zosan content during Sanji’s visit. Sanji’s always been afraid of horses, but he’s not afraid when he’s with Zoro, and Zoro teaches him they can be gentle creatures, it’s just that you just have to respect them. (Ha. Get it?) Zoro takes Sanji on a ride and they go out and he takes him up the mountain and shows him how beautiful the view is. Sanji's watching the sunset and he's like, "Damn that's the prettiest thing I've ever seen." And Zoro is looking at Sanji and he says, "It sure is." And Sanji's like, "you're not... even looking." And Zoro's like, "No, I'm looking alright. Prettiest thing I've ever seen for sure."

More soft things like Zoro taking off his cowboy hat and putting it on Sanji. Them sitting by the fire, Zoro playing acoustic while Sanji sings. Whenever people see them they’ll ask them if they’re musicians and they share a knowing smile and say “Yeah. Something like that.”

And Zoro convinces Sanji to move out there with him. The others come to visit. Luffy and Chopper are obsessed with the cows and horses and the chickens. Luffy wants, like, eight pet chickens. Usopp is skeptical. Doesn’t believe Lu can look after a pet.

And it kind of ends there. It was us going back and forth, oftentimes out of chronological order, and so here I am putting it all together because it’s too good not to share. But it was a lot of fun.

[there-and-always-back-again]

Captain’s Biggest Weakness - Levi Ackerman’s Love Story, Part 2

“Where is she?” growled Eren, furiously pacing back and forth. “It’s been all day!”

“She’ll be alright, you shouldn’t worry about her,” comforted him Armin, who was concerned about his friend not eating all day long.

Mikasa was sitting with the others at the table. They were all having a joyful conversation, but her focus was elsewhere.

“Would you two knock it off? She’s a big girl, she can handle herself. Eren, come and have something for dinner, please!” she begged.

Eren gave up looking through the window with the hopes of catching a glance of Vee and sat in front of the huge table, filled with various dishes. They were all prepared in celebration of the first day of the trainees’ program, yet he couldn’t find any of them appetizing. Captain Levi had made Vee do six hundred push-ups which Eren knew were an impossible task for her. She wouldn’t be able to do more than one hundred before she crashed onto the ground. While Eren couldn’t eat a single bite, the captain was peacefully sipping his tea at the other side of the table, not minding anyone’s presence, except his own thoughts.

Suddenly, Eren heard someone calling his name. He almost thought it was inside his own head, but then he noticed that others heard it, too.

###

“Eren! Eren, can you hear me? Could you open the door, please? I don’t think my hands are working,” I yelled from the other side.

I had successfully entered the mansion and I gotta tell you, those huge doors seemed heavier to push than ever. Maybe it was because I had entirely lost the strength of my arms. I felt my muscles burning, yet I could barely move them. It took me more than 6 hours to complete the task. I had taken breaks between them and although I had been training for so long, I knew that six hundred push-ups was something even a well-trained guy would find difficult achieving. And yet, I had done all of them. S-i-x-h-u-n-d-r-e-d.

The door to the kitchen, however, was impossible to push. Not because it was any heavier than the previous ones, it’s just that my hands had given up on me.

I heard Eren’s footsteps. He rushed me inside the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s here. Have you completed the task I gave you?” asked captain Levi. That dark smirk was on his face again.

“Yes, sir,” I responded. My voice was shaking and I could sense Eren’s grip tightening around me. I knew he was getting mad.

I realized captain Levi hadn’t looked me in the eyes since I first met him outside the mansion. He wasn’t even looking at me now! He was blankly staring at his cup of tea with steam coming out of it.

“Hm, good. Sit down, have something to eat,” he said, in a surprisingly calm way.

Eren sat me down next to him.

“Here, let me feed you. Your hands must be shaking,” he said and stuffed a huge spoon with rice inside my mouth. He wasn’t wrong. I really couldn’t move them. 

Although I was finally inside where everything was warm and my arms were resting, I couldn’t help myself but wonder - was I that repulsive to him that he couldn’t even look me in the eyes and acknowledge my existence?

###

“WAKEY, WAKEY, SLEEPY HEADS! TIME TO FIND OUT HOW TO KICK SOME TITAN ASS!” I heard Connie yelling outside in the hallway while knocking on each and every bedroom door.

He was a sweet guy - Connie. I barely knew him since I’d only met him several days ago, but I knew he had a kind heart. However, I wanted to kill him for waking us up so early.

The past week had been terrible. I cannot explain what captain Levi had put me through. While everyone else had been given tasks such as running a mile, doing a hundred sit-ups, carrying weights and fitting gear, the second day I had been made to run all day long, the third I had to carry everyone’s bags (which were even heavier than the weights others were given) and the thing I hated the most - I had to hold a long stick with two buckets filled with sand on each side. 

And on top of that, I had to do it while standing on a lever IN THE MIDDLE OF A LAKE. Of course, I couldn’t do it, I’d fail every time and fall into the lake.

I have no idea why he hated me so much. Was he that petty? Making me do so many unnecessary things just to punish me for one sentence? I hated him, yet I have to admit - I enjoyed looking at him.

Even though he put me through such useless labor just to teach me a lesson, I found myself staring at him every moment possible. The way his hair was occasionally covering his blue eyes, his slim and fit physique with a shirt showing the perfect form of his muscles.

And the mystery - maybe this was the most attractive thing about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking. He’d always look a bit bored, a bit annoyed and that made you want to prove yourself to him.

I could leave the training camp at any moment. Nobody was forcing me to do any of this. Yet, I wanted to prove myself to him. Show the captain that I was worthy.

Many days had passed and most of them repeated themselves - others doing normal tasks, me - doing practically the impossible.

It was the middle of the night and I couldn’t fall asleep. I barely slept at the camp because I was too worried about the following day. I decided to go to the kitchen and make myself some tea.

I was wearing nothing but my night gown, which (to be exact) wasn’t the most appropriate wear, yet I didn’t think much of it, because it was way past everyone’s bedtime. Nobody could possible be awake at this early hour. The following day we would have been trying the vertical maneuvering equipment, so nobody wanted to be tired for that.

As I was making tea, I thought I heard footsteps behind me. I cannot explain how terrified I was of the idea of someone seeing me like this. It could have been Connie, Marco or even Eren. Gosh, I really wished it wasn’t Eren, I would have been so embar-

“What... are you doing?” asked captain Levi completely startled.

I wanted to die. I tried covering myself with my hands, but that did nothing. He was standing several steps away from me, entirely still. He didn’t move a muscle and for the first time ever I could see something other than boredom or annoyance in his eyes. He looked absolutely shocked.

“I’m so sorry, Captain, I never even thought that someone would be awake at this early hour, I-”

Captain Levi took off the jacket he was wearing and threw it at me.

“Please, put this on,” he said. The moment I covered myself his face went back to normal... He was annoyed again. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I don’t usually sleep well. Tea helps!” I said jokingly, trying to cheer both of us up a little. His expression didn’t change. He sat at the table and opened up a book, as if nothing happened.

Suddenly, I got extremely mad. He had been torturing me for weeks, treating me like garbage and now entirely disregarding the situation. He could’ve said that it was at least okay, that I shouldn’t worry.

My anxiety was piling up. I couldn’t contain my tears.

“Captain,” I started sobbing. I hated myself for being so emotional and weak. “Can I ask you... Why do you treat me so badly?”

I felt utterly scared. I couldn’t believe I had asked him this. I was so screwed. I knew he’d kick me out of the camp the following morning.

Yet, for my surprise, he didn’t even look at me. Was I interesting to him only when I wasn’t wearing much clothing?

Anger started building up inside me once again.

“LEVI, AM I THAT DISGUSTING TO YOU? AM I THAT WEAK AND PATHETIC?”

 The captain instantly stood up and started walking towards me. Was he... going to hit me? I expected everything from him. Instead, he pushed me against the wall and hit its bricks as hard as he could right next to my face. He looked fierce.

“Pathetic? Disgusting?” he asked with a cold voice. “Haven’t you learned anything?”

I could feel his breath on my skin. I was shaking. I felt so terrified of him, yet I wanted to... kiss Levi? What was I even thinking, what is wrong with me? He’s a lot older than I am and he’s our future captain, but still I had never felt more drawn to another human being.

His eyes were piercing. He was leaning towards me and our faces were almost touching.

“I’m sorry, I really am,” I sighed. “I never wanted to make you mad.”

“Don’t you understand... Everything I’ve done, I did it to make you stronger... I... I can’t explain it,” he said.

I felt confused. What was he saying?

“The minute I saw you I knew I had to protect you. I had to teach you everything I knew, and my whole life all I’ve known is... pain. I learned from it, it taught me. And it made me stronger.”

He was panting, I could feel the heat coming out of his body.

“But why me? I’m nothing more than anyone else,” I asked quietly.

“I think I feel something for you that I haven’t felt for a long time before.”

My heart started racing. Captain Levi had feelings for me? I was going crazy.

“Kiss me, then.”

I can’t believe I said something like this. Goodbye, training camp.

And yet, he leaned even closer - our lips were almost touching and I could sense the smell of his skin when he suddenly pulled back.

“No,” he responded.

I was absolutely confused and even more embarrassed.

“But, but... Why?” I asked.

“I can’t let myself. I’ve too many enemies that always manage to find my weaknesses. And unfortunately, you’ve become one of them.”

[ddp456]

A Little Lumberjane Christmas - A Gravity Falls Christmas Story/Poem (Re-post)

Hey, all!  @ddp456​ here, and due to the season, I wanted to re-share one of my favorite creations to spread some holiday cheer.  I changed the format a bit, hopefully making it a bit more readable on Tumblr than the original versions here and here.  Again, happy holidays, and please enjoy!

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Written by @ddp456​ Illustrations by @codylabs​ Based on an idea by Wolf90

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It was Christmas Eve and time to deck the halls, in the podunk town called Gravity Falls. Weirdmageddon had pass, its horrors thankfully gone, bringing peace back to the sleepy state of Oregon.

Its natural weirdness seemed to had taken a pause, as the whole town awaited the arrival of ol' Santa Claus. Stockings were hung and trees were dressed really bright. From a distance, the whole town looked like a giant Christmas light.

Families were brought together, and friends would come and unite, proving enough Christmas cheer can make anything right. But one unfortunate soul didn't see things that way. She sat on a rooftop, watching nightfall rise up from the passing day. Who was this person, seemingly unaffected by Christmas joy? Why, it's the Lumberjack Princess, Wendy Corduroy!

Wendy hidden herself away at the top of the Mystery Shack, as the brutal winter winds blew away at her back. She didn't mind the cold, save for the tips of her boot-covered toes, and the feeling of frost nipping away at her stubby little nose. Wendy wanted a safe place to brood and mope and think, as she sipped from a thermos of hot cocoa, her favorite winter drink.

She had gotten out of her dad's apocalypse training by lying about work. She avoided Soos's Mystery Shack staff party by saying it wasn't her quirk. The rest of the town was swept away in the Christmas action, as McGucket threw a huge celebration in what was once the Northwest Mansion. Her friends Tambry, Lee, Nate, and Thompson begged her to come. Wendy refused. "No thanks. It sounds kinda dumb."

Even the Pines twins made their own attempt. An offered trip to Piedmont, California only added to Wendy's contempt. Wendy turned down their invitation, hoping Mabel and Dipper wouldn't shed a tear. "Sorry, guys. Maybe we'll see next year."

All Wendy wanted was to be left alone with her pain. Why did the world make it feel like she was insane? To her loved ones, she didn't want to seem like a grouch, but because of all the lies she told, Wendy couldn't even go back to her own couch.

Wendy's wandering mind instantly came to a halt, as she could hear crushed snow beneath a heavy foot fault. She sprang into action, her ninja-like moves were so slick. Wendy couldn't believe her eyes, "Holy crap! It's St. Nick!"

Santa Claus stood before Wendy in all his glory. The red outfit and fuzzy beard definitely matched the often-heard stories. Despite her older age, Wendy didn't doubt her own eyes. After all, this was Gravity Falls, where the weirdos loved to hide!

Wendy asked, "Santa, no offense, but what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be posing on soda cans with a cute polar bear? Don't you have, like, a zillion presents to give out today? I won't bother you. You can be on your way!"

Santa laughed. "You need not worry. My deeds with get their well due. But tonight, dearest Wendy, I've come to speak with you. It makes Santa sad to see you so blue. Your Christmas spirit I intend to renew. So, come join me this night. Give me a chance to help make things right. By Christmas Morn, I make this promise so true, your outlook on Christmas will gain a new view."

"Thanks for the invite, Santa." Wendy scoffed at the plan so bland. She sat back down in the snow, "But, yeah, a hard pass from me, my man."

With her back turned, Wendy was definitely out of range, to see "Jolly ol' St. Nick" undergo a sudden change. His famous smile faded into a frown turned amiss, as his opened, gloved hands turned into enraged fists.

"Young lady," Santa said without as much as raising his voice. "I'm afraid you don't understand. I'm not giving you a choice."

"WHA – "

Before she knew it, Wendy was tackled to the ground, She punched, scratched, and kicked, but in the end, was helplessly bound. Left in a hogtie, Wendy could only look around, the identity of her attackers made her let out a disgusted sound. "The gnomes from the woods?! This can't be right! Why are you bugging me on Christmas Eve night? And what's the deal with the elf uniforms? What's your beef? I thought you reformed?"

Jeff the gnome stepped up, since the other gnomes weren't very social. "Sorry, kid. It's just business. I swear this isn't personal. We gnomes need extra scratch for these long winter seasons, and the big man likes to outsource. Need there be a better reason?"

"HO HO HO! Well done, my boys!" Santa heaved with huge amounts of joy. "Please place Miss Corduroy in my big sack of toys! For a job well done, expect a little extra in your checks. Consider it a gracious extension of my respect."

The gnomes cheered as they started to drag Wendy away. Their redheaded captive did everything she could to stay. She pulled and tugged and screamed with all of her might, but the ropes holding her were simply way too tight.

"You can't do this to me!" Wendy yelled. "I have rights! What's the matter, Santa? Too scared to fight your own fights? You know against me, you'd have no such luck! For the last time, let me go, ya fat fu – MMPH!"

The angry ginger's potty mouth was hurting the simple gnomes' brains, so they decided to gag her with a candy cane. From her lips, Wendy couldn't get the sticky treat to waver. The only positive in all this was that it was mint-flavored.

They tossed Wendy into the oversized bag, usually filled with cheer. She let out a muffled cry, landing hard on her derriere. The sack's top was then tied off, robbing Wendy of all light, as Santa and prisoner sailed away well into the night.

Hours felt like seconds until the sack's top was undone. Wendy sprang up from the bag. This was her chance to run! Her ropes and candy cane gag had disappeared. The road in front of her had been perfectly cleared. Before Wendy could take one step, a sturdy hand clamped onto her shoulder. She turned to find Santa, about two seconds away from scolding her.

"Welcome, Wendy," he greeted, "to my humble abode. I wouldn't bother fleeing, for there's nowhere to go. We're at the North Pole, far away from civilization. This is my workshop. Call it my own private nation. Your cell phone won't work. All internet access is password-protected. My best advice is for you to do what you're directed. Now, join me, won't you? The next room is pretty fine. I really want you to see my toy assembly line."

Wendy sighed. There wasn't anything she could do. What if Santa's words were absolutely true? The best course of action was to play along with the part, and trick the geezer that she had a change of heart. The two walked down and across a large loading bay while Santa's nine reindeer happily ate their servings of hay.

Santa led Wendy to the toy assembly line, when the annoyed teen let out a whine. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm telling you, I can't stay. Can't you just leave coal in my stocking, and send me on my way?"

"HO-HO-HO!" Santa chuckled. "Why, Wendy, you're such a kidder! You can't lie to Santa. I must insist you reconsider. I know alone in the dead of winter is what you'd prefer. But in this case, I really cannot concur. There are reasons to my seemingly harsh way. I promise you'll reflect fondly on it one day.

Wendy crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. "I really doubt that, you kidnapping pile of cow dung!"

Santa beaded his eyes, as he tried to stay reserved. "Maybe it's time to get what you deserve. With that negative attitude of yours – and your bad behavior. Santa's got the way to curb that. How about some hard labor?!"

With a hard push, Wendy nearly crashed into the conveyor belt. She looked around to see the hand she'd been dealt. An army of elves stood neatly in line, they slaved and worked tirelessly to finish their projects in time. An endless supply of toys, games, and electronics flew by at frenzied rates, to order to reach children in every country, province, and state.

"Whoa!" Wendy noticed. "Those aren't the gnomes. These elves are real!" "Of course they are," Santa prided. "Back home, this job needs the real deal! Who else could deliver such gifts with speed and joy? They pull out all the stops so each child gets a toy. These wondrous folks are able to look past their own wants and needs, to bring Christmas cheer by doing good deeds. Such is the lesson I expect you to learn tonight. So, jump right in and help, and please don't put up a fight!"

Wendy stepped up to the belt, finding that she was way too tall. "Hey, how can I help? These tools were made for someone super small!"

"Hmm…" Santa stroked his beard. "By George, you're right! Why didn't I see it before?" The old man snapped his fingers. "There! Now, you can easily do your chore!"

With a blink of her eye, Wendy had shrunk by half. She was horrified to see that she barely reached Santa's calf. Her lumberjack outfit and thick winter coat, were now a dorky, striped one piece, and curled shoes that looked like boats. Dipper's pine-tree cap became a cute matching hat with bell tips. Her long copper hair turned pigtails made her lose her grip.

"AHH!" Wendy shrieked as she felt her now-pointed ears. "Change me back!" She demanded. "Don't think I can't kick your chunky rear!"

Santa used one hand to hold back the pint-sized, fist-swinging threat. "Oh, give it up, kid. Just look at me! I'm not even breaking a sweat! All this protesting is really getting you nowhere. Help the elves with the toys, and I'll think about changing you back. I swear. Only when your Christmas spirit is revived, will you be allowed to go home. I'll leave you be now. Santa's got better things to do than listen to you drone."

Santa took his leave, when he stopped after a few paces. "I hate to do this to you, but to be honest, I'm really too old for chases." He snapped his fingers once more, the room echoed with a click. Wendy looked down, "What's this? Another one of your tricks?"

A metal tether was placed around her ankle, meant to hold her in place. Wendy couldn't run away or jump. She could barely walk around or pace. "You think you got me, old man?" Wendy bragged. "I'll be outta here super-quick." She reached under her hat, "As soon as I find my lock – "

"Looking for these?"

Santa flashed a grin, displaying Wendy's trusty lockpicks in his hand. "That's right, kiddo. Santa knows all your secrets. That's why he's the man!" Wendy was left speechless as her captor soon disappeared from sight. She pulled on her chain with all her might. The freckled elf tugged and yanked and fought against the shackle, but every escape attempt resulted in a painful ankle tackle.

Now faced with no other choice, Wendy turned around to accept her fate. She grabbed a toy off the assembly line and followed alongside with her elven mates. But after a few minutes, Wendy found the task to be a bore. She elbowed the nearest working elf neighbor, "So, what are you in for?"

The tiny elf stared at Wendy in a confused state. "I don't think you understand. We elves choose our own fate. We each have free will. Santa doesn't force us to stay. All of us volunteer here. We don't even ask for any pay!"

Wendy looked around at the other elves workers walking around scot-free. She was the only one chained down to the heavy machinery.

"Then, I don't get it." Wendy asked. "Why do you do all this?" The elf replied, "Because the end result is truly pure bliss. Seeing the happy, smiling faces of the grateful girls and boys, it's what powers our great quest. It brings us great joy!"

Wendy grew more curious. "But how can you see all of these things? There's too many to see and they're so far away. Are you just pulling my strings?"

"Watch…"

Wendy grew silent as from the assembly wall came something new. From a small crack, some kind of electrical portal grew. The portal shifted from different planes into a whole new world. Before Wendy's emerald eyes, did the elf's story unfurled.

A little girl knelt on the side of her bed, praying to the powers that be to watch over her loved ones' heads.

"That's little Clara," introduced Wendy's new friend. "She volunteers to take care of her grandma, helping around the house to no end. Even though her family has little money for presents, she gives them little grief. For this, we're giving her a special dollie to provide her some well-needed relief."

A new item flew down the conveyor belt at rocket speeds. Dozens of elven hands rushed to give it the details it needs. A blonde, huggable doll was the final result. Its design was truly perfect. There wasn't anything possible to insult. It flew off the line and into Santa's bag in an almost magical way, and soon, into Clara's awaiting arms on Christmas Day.

"I have to admit," Wendy's mood began to lighten. "That was really neat." She no longer felt like fighting.

"Then, why don't you give it a shot," the elf did suggest. "You're part elf now. You can do it. Try your best!"

Wendy began to picture a child in need, someone who was indeed worthy of the elves' creed. She opened her eyes and gasped aloud, as Wendy was soon presented with her very own cloud. The other elves murmured and gathered around, to see what child Wendy's mind had found.

The image became clear, displaying a teenage boy in punk clothing. His hair was blue. His jeans were torn and holey. But man, was his attitude loathing. The teen was with his mother, doing some late holiday shopping. But to Wendy's shock, she could make out some swears dropping. "No, Mom, you moron! What were you thinking? Are you always this dumb, or have you been possibly drinking? I said I wanted Super Linguini Bros. 3, not Part 2! Man, I honestly can't believe I'm related to you!"

As the image in the portal faded away, Wendy's blood boiled, perhaps more than anytime that day. The boy's expected present had appeared before her, half-finished. But her budding Christmas spirit had been quickly diminished. She picked up the video game machine, and threw it over her shoulder. Wendy let out a chuckle as her insight became ever bolder. All of the elves were shocked and frozen in pause, as the now-wrecked toy landed at the feet of Santa Claus.

Wendy spun around in horror. She knew an apology would be way too late. This latest outburst would surely seal her fate.

Instead, he approached Wendy without a sign of anger and rage. Santa rubbed his bearded chin, knowing he had to take from another page. "Maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. We need to go inside to find why you despise Christmas Day."

He stepped up to Wendy, who was still stuck in place, and placed his black glove over her freckled face.

"What are you doing?" She tried to pull away. "Stop being a creep! Get your stinking hand off me! I can't see a peep!"

Santa removed his hand, and Wendy was now filled with a sense of dread. She had been warped to a dark room with a yellow light hanging ahead. "Hello?" Wendy called out, no longer shackled. "Is anyone there?" "Sorry!" A new voice answered. "I'm on my way. I had to finish my hair!"

A purple and pink glow invaded the darkened space. Wendy entered a fighting stance, just in case. The small ball became a pixie, straight out of a fable. "Weird." Wendy noted. "You kinda look like my friend, Mabel."

The brunette fairy gave off a familiar smile, "Hey, there! Welcome! I hope you stay awhile. Beyond this point, lie the doors three. They represent Christmas Past, Present, and Future. Yippee! Each door will take you to a different point in time on Christmas Day. By journey's end, we'll learn the real reason of why you feel this way."

Wendy shrugged, "It isn't like I have any choice." The pixie agreed and waved, "No, not really. Just follow my voice! If you need anything, I'll be your busy bee! All you need to do is shout, "Hey, Christmas Fairy!""

The fairy led Wendy to the door labelled, "Christmas Past." She opened the door, "Come on! This will be a blast!" Wendy was reluctant, but did what the sprite asked. The redhead couldn't believe it! She was now ten years in the past!

They stood in a better version of the Corduroy household, one that hadn't been yet damaged by Manly Dan's tantrums left uncontrolled. In the farthest corner of a somewhat messy kitchen, a super-tall, redheaded woman baked cookies as her pigtailed daughter pitched-in. The child was covered in white flour from head and toe, and her chubby, little fingers were caked in sticky dough. But the deed was finally done. Into the oven, the cookies went in. The mother tightly hugged her baby, looking over her proudly with a grin. "I'm so proud of you, my little one. You perfectly made my recipe: Chocolate-frosted Christmas trees with just a pinch of sesame. One day, you'll be able to do it alone. Maybe to impress some lucky boy, or when you have a family of your own, my dearest Wendy Corduroy."

The little girl held her mother even tighter, her hidden anxiety and social fears became a tad bit lighter.

"Mama…"

The Christmas Fairy watched the heartwarming scene with glee. "How adorable!" She turned around, finding something unexpectedly. Wendy had turned away from the memory, as she hugged her own shoulders. "Can we get out of here, please? This all is getting older and older."

The pixie sighed, as she waved the memory away. "Maybe we can find something even better here in present day." Wendy followed the fairy to the next Christmas door, "Are we almost done? I'm not gonna lie. This is becoming a chore."

The fairy reached the large door, marked with label, "Present," so that Wendy could bear witness to ongoing Christmas events. This time, she was presented with not one window, or two, but three! On her left side, Wendy could make out a familiar, half-broken Christmas tree. The Gift Shop of the Mystery Shack was decorated with green and red. A nearby buffet table held quite an awesome spread!

The new Mr. Mystery, Soos, stood at the counter with elbows resting. His saddened face was downright depressing. Melody, his girlfriend and partner at the Mystery Shack, suddenly snuck behind him and gave him a hug-attack. "Hey, why so glum, big guy?" she wondered. "Gee, Melody." Soos lamented. "This party was nothing but a blunder. Everybody went to that McGucket shindig instead. With the way things are going, maybe I should have stayed in bed. Even Wendy, who works here, couldn't even bother to attend, Let's face it, this idea was nothing but a dead end."

Melody lowered her head against Soos's shoulder fat, "Oh, don't be silly. Just you forget about that! They can have their stupid party. Let them be. We'll have our own little Christmas; just you and me! And don't mind Wendy. You know she doesn't mean to hurt you. Besides, with us alone, we can make our Christmas a bit more "blue.""

The couple's lips met as they shared a Christmas kiss, though Wendy turned her head and quickly dismissed. "Okay! Moving on!" She fled the scene with swift feet, though she secretly thought the moment was sorta sweet.

The middle window allowed Wendy to view the snow-covered woods, as four burly soldiers followed a path, their heads covered in hoods. Wendy easily recognized those running around in the dead of winter making noise, It was her father, Manly Dan, and her brothers, the Corduroy boys!

Marcus, Kevin, and Gus followed along with dear old Dad, "Keep going!" Dan barked. "Onwards, my beefy lads! Those monsters this summer were only the beginning! We'll practice and train day and night to make sure we keep winning!"

The youngest boy, Gus, started to complain, "How'd Wendy get out of this? She's totally to blame! She said she couldn't come because of work? Yeah, right! She's full of it! What a jerk!"

It was then when Manly Dan came to a stop. The boys crashed into his mighty form, and dropped. He stuck a finger in his smallest son's face. "You watch your tongue, boy! Don't be a disgrace!" That girl beat the odds and surprised us all, She helped saved this town from its ultimate downfall. Wendy's proven herself to me. My stone-cold heart she had won, I only wish she was here to show you boys how to get the job done! But my girl's not here, so us four will have to do. We'll work together on this blessed day to show the world that Corduroys rule!"

The boys rallied around their father's battle cry, and Wendy watched them march without batting an eye. "Don't think I'm not touched by Dad's words. I hate to betray his trust. I just wanted to get out of apocalypse training without a fuss. Living through Weirdmageddon was more than enough for me. After that mess, couldn't we relax and let things be?"

Wendy's attention was drawn by the window on the right. Every part of the Northwest Mansion was bathed in glorious light. Its new owner, Fiddleford McGucket, had really turned things around. To properly celebrate, he threw a Christmas party for the whole town! Mingles of classes, both rich and poor, engaged with each other without signs of bore. Gathered at a distant table were a collection of Wendy's chums, Thompson, Tambry, Nate, Lee, and even Robbie V., that gothic bum. They sat bored out of their minds, their attention spans were wearing thin, without their fearless leader to swoop in for the win. The plucky cashier's mischievous mind usually created their favorite dares, games, and pranks, and now without her around, the mellow atmosphere really did stank! Surprisingly enough, Thompson threw his fist down! "Why are we just sitting here? Sure, Wendy's not around, but would she want us to sit around and pout? No way! She'd tell us to get off our butts, no doubt! C'mon, guys. Let's make our Wendy proud! We'll cause a little mayhem and make this party loud! He lifted his half-drank cup of punch into the air, as the rest of the teens joined in with the cheer:

"For Wendy!"

Wendy backed away from the third open portal, "I'm not really sure if I get this moral. Sure, all three present views have people that miss me, but their Christmases seemed to be better if I left things be."

The pixie bobbed her head, "Oh, Wendy. Try looking at this way instead. All of these groups would be better if you were there, but in your absence, they refuse to let their Christmas fall into despair. They celebrate what they have, versus what they have not. Now, with that said, maybe is there something more to Christmas that you thought?"

"Perhaps…" Wendy said, stroking her chin with curiosity. "Great!" The fairy proclaimed. "There's one last thing to see!" However, Wendy's interests soon broke away, as the door called "Christmas Future" made her want to stay. "Hold on!" The sprite cried out. "There's nothing interesting in here, I bet, and I'm not sure if Santa wants you to see that yet."

"It's nice to want things." Wendy opened the door and smirked. "What's Santa hiding now, that big, colossal jerk?" To Wendy's amazement, she was back at Santa's workshop. The lines of elves went on building toys non-stop. The big man himself surveyed his on-going mission, as he stood at the assembly line with his newest addition. Santa patted the shoulder of the pigtailed elf with a familiar, striped uniform. Her frozen, freckled beam was anything but the norm. The elf didn't even so much as breathe or blink, as her hands blindly manufactured new goods with a "clink, clink, clink!"

Wendy covered her mouth, "No! No way! This cannot be! I know that mindless little elf – that's me!"

Wendy's stomach grew nauseous as she stumbled away. Her pixie friend pleaded with her to stay. "Please, Wendy. You don't understand! This possible future is not Santa's ultimate plan!" But Wendy refused to hear her anymore. "Stay away from me! Let me outta this place!" she roared.

The blackened arena shattered like broken glass, Wendy was back in front of Santa and his elven class. The force of the mighty ginger had broken Santa's spell, as her outburst made him land on his jingle bells.

Wendy marched towards him with a nasty glare, until she was pulled back by her ankle snare. "I've had it with you, fat man! You've hit my last nerve! Now, it's about time that I give you what you deserve! You kidnap me and bring me to this awful place, and then you turn me into one of the elven race! You threaten me with child labor? So what? Big deal! Do you know the geezer I work for? He's an even bigger heel! Then, you dare to invade my mindscape and some, and pervert my most private of memories, you scum! You wanna make me your slave? I'd want you to try. Come a few steps closer, and I'll be happy to give you a black eye! I'll give you one last chance to change your mind. I'm too generous, I know. I'm not asking, I'm telling: LET-ME-GO!"

The other elves remained silent as Santa stood upright. His demeanor had changed to that of sorrow, not fright. "My poor Wendy Corduroy. I feel I failed you. For on this night, I was unable to give you Christmas spirit renewed. Your anger and pain is just way too great, I fear this time, ol' St. Nick had arrived too, too late. Your fate has been sealed. I'm sorry it sounds so grim. I have no other choice but to leave you to…him…

With that, Santa and his elves took their leave, leaving Wendy stunned as she couldn't believe. "Where are you all going? What? The truth was too much to bear? Didn't anyone hear me? I said lemme outta here!"

Now, left by herself and trapped in the empty hall, Wendy slumped down into a saddened ball. Her green eyes grew watery, but she refused to cry. To give her captors the satisfaction, the girl would rather die. The worse thing of all no one knew she was stuck here, as they enjoyed their Christmases without worry or care.

"I can't really blame them." Wendy said, with her chin on her knees. "I know I have hang-ups about Christmas. That part's solely on me. Still, I wish that someone could look beyond their bliss, and see that I was missing and things were amiss."

Little did Wendy know, as her mind began to wander, a new portal formed on the assembly wall beyond yonder. She didn't notice the window leading away from this nightmare, until she could make out familiar voices she'd know anywhere.

"Dipper? Dipper? Are you in there? Where are you now? To where did you disappear?"

Wendy climbed on top of the conveyor belt, as the icy feeling in her heart started to melt. Dipper Pines sat on his bed, with a wireless phone in hand, as his twin Mabel charged into the room with a demand. "Dipper, come join the party! What's the matter with you?" He explained to his sister, "Mabel, it's Wendy. I can't get through! All I wanted was to wish her a Merry Christmas, but no one seems to know where she is! I tried the Shack, and Tambry and Nate and the other teens. And no one picks up at her home. The phone just rings and rings! I don't mean to be overprotective, Mabel. I know I have a choice, but I'd feel so much better if I could hear Wendy's voice."

"Oh, Dipper," Mabel sat next to him on his bed. "Quit being such a big worry-head. Wendy's a big girl. She can handle things by her own. The last thing she'd want you to do is make this overblown. It's not a big deal. Christmas isn't Wendy's thing. If she wanted to be here, she would have given us a ring. Remember last summer? Here, I'll give you a clue. You can't force someone to do something they don't wanna do. Now, come on, already! Turn that frown upside-down! Let's get back to the party before anyone notices you're not around!"

And with that, Mabel went back on her way, but in spite of her speech, Dipper still wanted to stay. His parents' party was filled with family friends unknown, and older cousins that rather spend more time on their cell phones. The thirteen-year-old felt like a stranger in his own house, wishing for something that could keep his Christmas spirit from being doused.

He sighed, and lurched forward with a sigh. "Mabel's right, but I couldn't help but try. I know Wendy's busy, but I still wish she would have come. Maybe then, this stupid party wouldn't be so lonely and dumb."

It was then that Dipper made a wish that he hoped would travel far: "I hope you're having a Merry Christmas, Wendy…wherever you are."

A heartbroken Wendy rested her forehead against the portal's seem, when at long last, her eyes started to teem. A line of tears traveled down each cheek as she started to cry. She didn't think of herself, but of her special little guy. "I'm so sorry, Dipper." Wendy sniffled. "I really made things a mess. I wish I could make it right. I should have said "yes.""

"Wendy?" "Dipper?"

"AAH!" The boy screamed as he flew off the bed, convinced at first, he was hearing voices in his head. But sure enough, in a wavy window above his room, contained the image of Wendy, with a sense of doom.

"Wendy?" Dipper asked again. "Is it really you in there?" "Of course it is, dork." She said from the portal in mid-air.

Dipper moved towards the vision of his crush, and upon seeing what was wrong, his voice went in a rush. "Wendy, what's happened? Why aren't you tall? Your hair! Your ears! And what's the deal with that weird hall?"

Wendy wiped her face and started to plead her case. "Dipper, you gotta help me get out of this place! You're not going to believe this! I'm at the North Pole! Santa kidnapped me, and he won't let me go! He's forcing me to make toys and talk to Christmas ghosts. It's like he's trying to find what irritates me the most!"

Dipper immediately sprung to the rescue. "Don't worry, Wendy. I'll find a way to save you!" He examined the portal up and down and side-to-side, But hadn't an idea how to reach his secret love without a guide. After a few minutes, Dipper stood on his bed, as no more plans danced around in his head. "I'm really sorry, Wendy. I haven't a clue. I've never seen anything like this before. I don't know how to help you."

The two teenagers stood on different borders of time and space, as they met for the first time in months face-to-face. Dipper placed a hand against his side of the plane, The shine in his eyes had vanished and drained. "I – I wish you were here with us…with me…" Wendy set her palm against her devotee's. "I do, too, buddy. Trust me. Right now, there's no other place I'd rather be…"

All of a sudden, as though a Christmas blessing, their hands were able to touch through the barrier's meshing! Wendy and Dipper's fingers entwined as they laughed in disbelief, the ability to make physical contact came as such a relief.

Dipper said, "How can this be? I don't understand. Is this really happening? Or is it sleight of hand?" Wendy squeezed harder, "Hey, kiddo? Not at all trying to be rude, but Santa's coming back soon, so please, pull me though, dude!"

With that, Dipper tightened his grip and gave a tug, His noodle arms pulled Wendy into a huge bear hug. Once the slender redhead was more than halfway through, their worries returned with a threat somewhat new.

"What's wrong now?" Dipper strained. "Of all the dumb luck…" "I almost forgot, Dipper." Wendy explained. "I'm stuck! That old fat jerk snapped a cuff on my foot super-tight, to make sure I'd stay in his crummy workshop all night!"

Dipper wouldn't stop trying. "There has to be something I can do. There's no way I'd ever give up on you!" Though the kind words touched Wendy deeply in this situation out of whack, a second later, she could feel something try to pull her back. "No!" Dipper dug his heels deep into the blankets of his bed. "Don' t think this is over! I'd rather drop dead!"

"Dipper! Don't let go!" "I won't!"

Both Dipper and Wendy screamed as they were pulled into the wormhole, They landed back at Santa's workshop back at the North Pole, where Santa awaited with a horrific beast by his side, a ten-foot, horned demon, a so-called protector of yuletide. It was bearded and dressed in tattered clothing, its appearance was terrifying and somewhat loathing. The screams of the damned came from a container on its side. It held a wooden paddle, meant to tan wicked hides. Upon seeing this monster, the partners-in-crime shrieked, holding each other in terror as their knees became weak.

Santa shook his head, "Wendy, I've tried my best to make this right, but I feel there's nothing I can do to have you see the light. There's only one way to curb your attitude so pompous. I introduce to you, the Christmas monster known as the Krampus!

The fanged behemoth unleashed an unearthly roar, that even managed to shake the whole floor. It took a hooved step forwards in its quest, far from trendy, to claim the soul of the wicked child known as Wendy.

"Wait!"

Dipper shielded his still-ensnared sweetheart, He held his arms outwards, ready to do his part. The tiny boy's eyes met with his one-time rival, "Santa…" he greeted, thinking only of Wendy's survival. "Dipper…" Santa replied in the same, sober tone. "So, how goes those "Anti-Santa" traps in your home?" "You already know," Dipper grimaced, "That they're far from okay, but that's not the reason I'm here today. I don't have all the details, but I think I know enough. Please let Wendy go, and we'll be gone without a huff! I know at first, Wendy seems aloof and really tough. But she's so much more than that! Take it from this cream-puff! I get that Christmas spirit is your thing. That's okay and fine. If it's such a big deal, then what about mine? There is nothing I want more than to have Wendy to come home with me, so I ask you kindly, can't we please just let things be? I don't have a leg to stand on. But still, I'll beg this of you today: Please, Santa. Don't take my Wendy away!"

Dipper turned back to see Wendy slightly blushing. He corrected the mistake he made by rushing.

"I mean, "Don't take Wendy away!"

Santa and his pet gave each other a quick look, Their combined decision no more than a split second took:

"NO!"

The Krampus crept by Wendy, as she froze in a trance, as Dipper fought back with a second chance. "All right! You want a bad kid to give your curse? What if I could name someone even worse? A person that definitely deserves your type of misery? Here's a thought. How about you take me?!"

"Dude, don't!" Wendy said. "You really need to shut up now! If you keep going, you'll end up as this thing's Christmas chow!"

But Dipper ignored his crush's protests, and began to list off his sins and confess. "I've lied, cheated, and stole too many times, and that's only the beginning of my crimes! I beat up a gang of gnomes and marked them for dead. I fought living wax statues and cut off Larry King's head! I raised zombies up and left those secret agents to die, and made my sister, Pacifica, and even Wendy cry. I won't fight you, creature. I'll admit I made my own bed. I'll ask you a second time, leave Wendy, and take me instead!"

The Krampus licked his lips with a sense of glee, truly fascinated by Dipper's dirty laundry. He changed course to add Dipper to his collection, as Wendy dashed in front to offer her protection.

"Ain't going to happen, ugly! Not no how, or no way! Lay a claw on that kid, and I swear you're going to pay! If you want Dipper, you'll have to go through me first! So, come on, tough guy! I'm prepared to take your worst! If anyone deserves a decent Christmas, it's Dipper, my boy! And it's gonna happen, or else, my name's not Wendy Corduroy!"

To Wendy and Dipper's surprise, both tormentors began to laugh. Santa and Krampus supported each other so they wouldn't split in half. The elder's smile returned, "See, Wendy? I knew you would come through! Your act of sacrifice shows your Christmas spirit has been truly renewed! Santa's deed has been done. There's no further need for this. You two are free to go and enjoy Christmas bliss!"

Wendy raised an eyebrow, worried if there was another trick to be found. "Seriously?" Santa snapped his fingers a third time, as her shackle opened and fell to the ground. "Seriously."

Dipper and Wendy walked to the portal shining so bright, as Wendy realized something still wasn't quite right. "Santa, my man, I really don't mean to stall, but before we go, can you please make me tall?"

Dipper elbowed his friend, "I dunno. I think I like you better this way." "Please, Dipper, don't give him ideas." Wendy whispered with dismay.

Santa let out another joyful laugh, "Oh, I almost forgot, my dear. When you go home, your natural height will return, so have no fear." He and the Krampus offered a wave as the duo traveled back to California. "Have a Merry Christmas! But if not, you can't say we didn't warn ya!"

Back in Piedmont, Wendy and Dipper landed back in his bedroom, as she discovered she was no longer fitted in elven costume. Wendy's lumberjack clothing and height were rightfully restored, as the portal closely behind them, hopefully forevermore. Relieved, they rushed in for a snuggly embrace, their hearts still racing from escaping such a crazy place.

Dipper looked up at Wendy, "Are you sure you're alright?" "Thanks to you, buddy." She grinned and held him tight. "I don't know what to say, Dipper. Tonight, you really came though." "Oh, it was nothing." He blushed. "If reversed, I'd know I could count on you."

Their touching reunion was suddenly interrupted, as from the doorway, a shrill squeal erupted: "Ohmigosh!" Mabel grabbed her cheeks. "You're really here!" She wrapped around Wendy's waist as the much-taller girl rubbed her brown hair. "I knew I heard your voice! Did you change your mind?" Wendy turned to Dipper as she was caught in another bind. "Actually, Mabel." Dipper started. "Wendy wanted to surprise us. She spent all day and night traveling here on a small bus." Wendy followed along with Dipper's white lie about her stay. "I hope I'm not too late to join you guys on Christmas Day?" "What? No way!" Mabel exclaimed with excitement and great cheer. She flew from the room, "Hey, everybody! You won't believe who's here!"

With the two following along at a safe distance, Wendy gave Dipper a love tap, "Hey, thanks again for the quick assistance." "No biggie." He said with an embarrassed modest. "But if I can ask, are you sure you're ready for all this?" She threw her arm around her favorite little dork. "Of course I am, but now, let's get to work! I have something special to share with you two. Call it an old family recipe: Chocolate-frosted Christmas trees with just a pinch of sesame."

As they rounded the corner, Mabel teased, "Hey, you two! Guess where you're below? You guys are right under the mistletoe – "

"O-kay! That's enough right there!"

Wendy leaned forward on her knees as Dipper remained cross-legged on the colored rug on the floor. They looked up at Soos, dressed in a Santa cap, as he read from a selection of his fanfiction in Stan's recliner.

"Wow…" Dipper rested a heavy head against his fists. "I really didn't believe Soos when he said he made a Christmas story starring us, but there it is…"

"What's the matter?" Soos asked with a disappointed look. "You guys didn't like my Christmas rhymes?"

"No offense, Soos." Wendy threw out an arm in outrage, "But that story was kinda sexist, don't cha think? Why was I the one kidnapped? And Dipper saving me? Isn't that sorta cliché?"

"Well," Dipper held a finger up. "There was that one time at the Dusk2Dawn…"

"Exactly, buster! One time! Check the rescue scorecard, pal! I guarantee I have more saves checked off than you. Bet on it! And you really think Santa can take me on? Let 'im try! I'll punch him in the mistletoe, and break my foot off in his ho-ho – "

*CRASH!*

A thunderous crash could be heard on the Mystery Shack's roof. The sound made all three freeze in their tracks.

"Um," Dipper mumbled. "What was that you were saying, Wendy?"

"I – I," The lumberjane rambled nervously. "Like I was saying, maybe we should take a break, and get some hot cocoa and cookies, and see if there's any wholesome Christmas TV specials on."

"Good idea!"

"Sounds like a plan!"

The boys and Wendy jumped up and left the room, pressed together back-to-back. Their eyes searched every corner, in fear of a possible yuletide attack.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"And from this point here, our story finally concludes. Have a Happy Holiday, my friends. And remember, Santa's always watching you…"

[atc74]

Making Circles - Month Six

Square(s) Filled: Smiting for @heavenandhellbingo

Warnings: Case angst, being fake married to Dean, arguing, smiting, case level violence, emotional pain

Summary:  Dean and Y/N have to pretend to be married for a case. But this isn’t any ordinary case. Married couples have gone missing from Albert Lea, Minnesota, every six months for the last few years but there is almost zero evidence. People don’t just disappear like that do they? With Bobby and Sam’s help, plus an ally in their new town, they have just under six months to figure it out. Chances are they’ll survive the case, but will their friendship survive their fake marriage?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1522

Written for: @heavenandhellbingo

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches, who says the nicest things and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and also keeps me on a straight line. I heart you! And @alleiradayne for letting me bounce ideas off her, like all the time.

A/N: This will be six chapter series, one for each month of the case, plus a bonus epilogue. Loosely based/inspired by the song Making Circles by Christian Kane and I just felt this needed to be written. There will be lyrics dispersed throughout the entire story. I hope you love this as much as I do.

The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

Making Circles master list

Month Six

Y/N sat in the office pouring over old files, crime scene photos and newspaper clippings, hoping something would jump out at her. They had less than a month to wrap this up before two more people went ‘missing’ into a puff of pink dust. With how things were going with her and Dean, and the fact that Cas didn’t think the Rit Zien knew the difference between emotional and physical pain, it very well could be them next.

It was this dance they were stuck in and they were coming up one more graceful, or at least well practiced, spin. The words were the same each time the song played. She and Dean moving around each other, the same words, the same actions. They were trying to keep up the charade, go through the motions, say the words, but it all worked out the same in the end, didn’t it? After they wrapped the case, where would they be? Back to hunting, best friends and partners. Five months can make you see a person in a whole new light and that was where she found herself now.

Clearing her mind, she returned to the clippings when something caught her eye. She checked another clipping. She double and triple checked the information before she called Dean.

“Hi, Honey, what’s up?” he answered casually.

“You need to come home right now. I think I found something. Something huge.”

“Don’t move. I’m on my way.”

The garage was a fifteen minute drive and Dean made it home in less than ten. “Y/N! Honey! Where are you?” She heard his boots echo through the house, hitting the hardwoods as he ran through the first floor.

“Down here!” Y/N called from the bottom of the stairs.

His footfalls pounded heavy down the wooden staircase as he raced to her. “Tell me you have good news.”

“Look at these clippings,” she requested, handing him a magnifying glass. “Tell me what you see.”

Dean examined each of the eight articles and pictures she had laid out over the desk. He went back and forth, inspecting them over and over. “Son of a bitch.”

“You see it too? I’m not crazy. Tell me I’m not crazy,” she pleaded with him.

“You’re not crazy,” Dean confirmed. “You’re a brilliant, badass hunter, Honey. You did it!” He pulled her in and kissed her. The kiss wasn’t rushed like the first one they shared. As soon as her mind recovered from the shock, she threw her arms around him, eagerly kissing him back. This kiss held more passion and promise than the last.

“Dean…” Y/N breathed, pulling back from his embrace. “I know the last five months have been a roller coaster, but it’s been good. It can’t get much better, but it sure can get worse. Either way we turn, it’s gonna hurt.”

“Y/N, we go round and round trying to work it out, and all we get is hell bent and bound. We’re never far from right where we are. You think that we would get enough, I know there’s a possibility that we’re going to fuck it up. But we’re holding on, and we’re sinking down. We go, round and round, making circles.” Dean read her mind, finishing the thought for her.

“Dean, we circle each other, like partners in a dance or fighters in the ring, it depends on the day. Let’s just focus and finish this thing, then maybe...just maybe we can figure out what this is, or what we even want it to be,” she suggested, holding out hope that they actually got the chance to have that talk. “I’m going to grab us a drink, why don’t you call Cas?”

“Yeah, okay. You’re right, we can wait,” Dean conceded and bowed his head. “Cas, we need you, buddy. We got something here and we need your help. So come on down, you’re the next contestant on Name that Douchebag Angel,” Dean opened his eyes, hoping Cas would have appeared in the room with them.

“Hello, Y/N,” Cas rasped from the doorway to the kitchen, startling her.

“Cas! Don’t do that!” Y/N shrieked.

“I’m sorry. Did you not just pray for me?” Castiel tilted his head like a confused puppy.

“No, Dean did. He’s downstairs,” she led the way, waiting for Cas to follow her.

“No, I am pretty sure I heard you loud and clear, Y/N,” Cas repeated.

“No, Castiel. I did not pray for you, despite what you think you heard. Now, forget about it and let’s finish this shit now!” Y/N growled at him as they entered the office.

Dean had not seen this fire in her since the demon hunt. He was relieved he was not the cause of her anger this time. “Whoa, did you piss in her Cherrios?”

“I don’t understand that reference, Dean,” Cas declared and Dean broke out in laughter. “Dean, I hardly think now is the tim-.”

“Focus, Dean!” Y/N chided him, dragging Castiel to the desk to look over the news articles she had been inspecting. “Cas, we think this might be the angel, the Rit Zien. They are in all the photos from the newspaper. These couples didn’t live in the same neighborhood, so it cannot be a coincidence that this person knew all the couples. We think this is it.”

“We won’t know for sure until they show up. I cannot recognize their grace from a grainy photograph,” he explained. “I will need to see the vessel in person to know if this is the Rit Zien.”

“Well, they are drawn to physical or emotional pain, right?” Dean inquired. “I think we’ve got enough of that right here. They’ll come.”

Days and days passed without incident. To say things were tense around the house would would be putting it lightly. Dean and Y/N worked, came home, ate and went to bed. On the fourth night, she couldn’t take it anymore. She broke.

“What do you want from me, Dean? I need to know where I stand with you,” she cried. “I can’t go back to our normal lives knowing how this feels and how badly I want it to be real.”

“This is the closest we’ll ever get to normal. I want to believe that in our lives, our real lives, that a relationship with you is possible. But, what if we can’t? Aren’t you sick and tired of trying with me? We keep fucking this up, running circles around each other. What if we keep fucking it up out there?” Dean challenged her, afraid of what she was really feeling.

“You know what? I can’t do this right now. I thought I could, but no. Nope. And don’t bother coming to bed. You can sleep in your old room for the night. I need some time,” she sniffed, trying to hide the tears and emotion rolling off of her. She ran up the stairs and slammed the door to the room they had been sharing. Until that night.

Dean wasn’t even sure what happened, but he knew he had said the wrong thing. He usually did. He grabbed a beer and went up to shower before bed. It was going to be a long couple of weeks in this house with her if he couldn’t figure out how to fix it.

Dean closed his eyes as the water pounded down on him. The shower was hot but felt good on his tired muscles. Almost six months of manual labor in the garage had been harder than he thought it would be. But he adjusted, he figured it out. His body acclimated to the job, his mind to their new identities and his emotions to this new life. His eyes flew open, struck with the epiphany of how to fix it. He turned off the water and quickly dried himself off when a scream tore through the house. “Y/N!”

Dean took off down the hall to their room, clad in only his towel, and threw open the door. There in the middle of the room was a strange woman with his wife, his pretend wife. Y/N had always held her own in any fight with any monster they had ever encountered, but she was screaming out of terror. Dean had never seen that look on her face before. He couldn’t help but think he was the cause of at least part of it. The woman never even registered his presence in the room.

“Y/N, it doesn’t have to hurt like this. I can make all of that go away,” she cooed, even as Y/N continued to wail. The woman raised her arm to Y/N’s forehead and Y/N started glowing pink.

Dean had never moved so fast in his life. He grabbed the hidden blade and lunged at the angel, plunging the weapon deep within it’s chest. A bright light burst through the room before the angel disappeared, leaving nothing but the vessel and pair of scorched wings on the carpet. “Keep your hands off my wife, bitch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, seriously right?! I’d love to hear your thoughts! 

The Whole Enchilada: @iwantthedean @dolphincliffs @mrswhozeewhatsis @meganwinchester1999 @cherrycokegirls1 @closetspngirl  @roxyspearing @flamencodiva @blacktithe7 @sis-tafics @just-another-busyfangirl @evansrogerskitten @amanda-teaches @hannahindie @wotinspntarnation @winchesterprincessbride @winecatsandpizza @kickingitwithkirk  @wi-deangirl77 @hobby27 @mogaruke @gh0stgurl @paintrider13-blog @hunterscabin @alleiradayne @idreamofplaid

The Dean’s List: @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @dean-winchesters-bacon @maddiepants @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @supernatural-jackles @docharleythegeekqueen @adoptdontshoppets @mtngirlforever

Making Circles: @squirrelnotsam @karikatz12481  @deans-baby-momma​

[synkiller82]

Seeing Things Differently

A while back, I found out the convention I attend was having a writing contest.  With encouragement from my husband, my friends, and Mireille, I decided to take the plunge and write a one-shot fairy tale to enter.  I just received an email yesterday that I had won the contest!  I, honestly, still cannot believe that I was able to conquer my doubts and that I have won the contest.

Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this labor of love.  For some background before you begin, the main character has had her ‘condition’ since birth and wants nothing more than to be like the other children in her small village.  After finding out there was a way to remedy her condition, she sets out to ‘fix herself.’  

Please know that I am not trying to be mean, or pick on, people with disabilities.  I just wanted to challenge myself and I thought by removing the sense we all relay on so heavily, it would force my writing onto another path.  I hope it succeeded.

Here are some of the words I conjured up for the story, with (hopefully) helpful pronunciations, and what they mean:

Corsi (coresee) - a term of endearment for a Grandmother, much like Nonna, Grammie, or Nana Daerae (dayray) - a small fairy creature Nevaegyvar (ne-vayg-var) - The name of the 'demon'

Brea ran home, hands out in front of her to stop her from running into anything or anyone.  Though the gesture did nothing to stop her from stumbling over rocks and holes in her path that she couldn’t find without the aid of her walking stick.  The village bully, Veradisia, had thrown it into the well in the center of town while the other children called her names like ‘Batty’ and ‘Mole-face.’ She heard the creaking of her grandmother’s rocking chair before her feet touched the well-worn boards of the stairs.  Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she collapsed into her grandmother’s lap, sobs wracking her small frame.

Her grandmother gently ran a hand through Brea’s raven hair in an attempt to calm the girl.  “My child, what is the matter?” she asked softly.

Brea sniffled, burying her face further into her Corsi’s lap.  “Why can’t I be like everyone else, Corsi? Why am I so different?  I hate being different!”

“Your differences make you special, Brea.  You are loved for who you are on the inside,” her grandmother said fondly, lifting Brea’s cheeks.  Her heart was heavy as she gazed upon her granddaughter's anguished expression, pale blue eyes staring into the distance.  Sighing, Corsi offered, “If you wish to gain your sight, there is one who can help you.”

“Who, Corsi?  I have to find them,” Brea begged, reaching out to find her grandmother’s face.

“The Daerae has the ability to grant one wish, but no one has seen one in centuries.  Legend has that Nevaegyvar captured one of the Daerae and is holding it deep within the Karask Forest.”

Brea shuddered as the name fell from her grandmother’s lips.  The Karask Forest was a terrible place on the other side of Nim Chasm, past Alus Falls.  No one who had journeyed to the Karask Forest had ever returned. If normal adventurers were no match for the forest and the evil within, what chance did a blind girl have?

Brea tossed and turned all night, thinking about what her grandmother had told her.  She would have the chance to gain her sight, something she had felt deprived of all her life, if only she was brave enough to take the journey.  

By the time the sun rose the next day, she had made her decision.  Quietly, she packed a bag and was about to walk down the front stairs when her corsi’s voice stopped her.

“So, you are going?”

Brea stopped and turned toward her grandmother’s voice.  “I have to, Corsi. I need my sight.”

Brea’s grandmother took her hand and gently placed her walking stick in it, which a neighbor had retrieved from the well.  “Then take this, my child. I hope you find what you need.”

Brea gave her grandmother a tight hug and felt her way toward the familiar trade route that led out of the village, in the direction of the falls.  

The sound of rushing water reached her ears and grew louder as she neared, guiding her to the river and the Alus Falls.  Once there, Brea got on her hands and knees, edging closer to the riverbank to safely put her hand in the water and test how quickly the water was flowing.  She realized there was no way she would be able to traverse the river; the fast current would carry her downstream, leaving her disoriented. She slowly made her way along the path, coming upon what felt like a fallen log.  She remembered hearing the other children speak of such a log they would use to climb out over the river and jump from. She took a moment to place her walking stick in her backpack and gather her courage. Cautiously, she climbed on top of the log and slowly crossed the river on her hands and knees, using the broken branches to guide her way.  One obstacle down , she thought as she reached the other side and continued down the unfamiliar path.  The journey will only get harder from here.  I hope I’m up for the task.

While she couldn’t see the rise and fall of the sun, the warmth it provided helped her know the days from the nights.  The cooling air around her now told Brea that night was falling. She decided to stop and try to find a place to rest. Walking a little ways from the path, her stick struck a solid object and she reached out to find a large tree.  Settling against the tree, she pulled out a small bit of cheese and bread for her supper. The sounds of the owls and crickets surrounded her like a lullaby as she drifted off to sleep.

She dreamed of the race of small fairy-like creatures known as the Daerae.  Their fair skin glistening in the sun as they fluttered on wings like dragonflies, playfully eluding Brea, who chased them through a field of brightly colored wildflowers.  The sound of bell-like laughter echoed in Brea’s ears as she awoke the next day.

The comforting sounds of the woods started to fade the longer she traveled, and she felt the path tilting forward--she was heading down into the valley.  The fierce wind whipped at her cloak and drowned out her footsteps. Fear exploded into her chest when her stick slid off the edge of the path only a few steps in, finding no landing within reach.  Slowly, she traversed the sloping path that led through the Nim Chasm. Clinging to the rock wall, she used her stick to alert her to obstacles in her path.

She breathed a small sigh of relief that she had made it without falling off the path.  Humming a happy tune to herself to calm her shaky nerves, she continued for a short distance before she was unable to sweep her stick and reach both walls, signaling that the path was widening in front of her.  As she searched around, she found four walls in front of her, indicating three different paths. Anxiety gripped her as she considered her situation. If she chose the wrong path, would she be lost forever? How could she choose the right path?

Brea willed herself to calm down.  She had made it this far--she could make it the rest of the way.  She just had to be resourceful and use what she had.  

Stilling her mind, she began to listen for signs to indicate which way the forest lay.  She heard rustling to the left, indicating tree leaves, and decided that is the path she needs to travel.  Soon, she made it to the Karask Forest, the last part of her journey.  

After wandering the forest aimlessly for what felt like days, she fell against a tree.  The sharp bark bit into her back as she slid to the ground. It was useless. How was she supposed to find ‘the huge tree, bark dark as midnight’ if her whole world was dark?   Even if she was able to find the lair, the stories of Nevaegyvar told of a demon taller than a house, with glowing red eyes and an aura of pure evil. Brea couldn’t even stand up to the village bully--how was she supposed to defeat something as powerful as a demon?  She buried her face in her knees and wept until she fell asleep.

“Are you lost, little one?” A soft female voice called out.

Brea lifted her head and turned toward the sound.  “I am,” she cried.

“Listen to your instincts, Brea.  You have all you need to finish the journey.  Believe in yourself.”

Brea woke up as the voice faded.  Had it had been a dream? Standing up, Brea found the strength to continue.  She slowed her breathing and concentrated on her goal. She would find the lair of Nevaegyvar, and she would free the Daerae.

She heard the soft voice whispering to her, as light as a spring breeze.  Turning her head, she noticed the voice was stronger to her right and she headed that direction.  Brea concentrated on the soothing voice, listening for the direction it was strongest to guide her, over streams and roots, deeper into the forest.  

“I’m here,” the same voice whispered.  “You have arrived.”

Confused, Brea reached out to find herself in front of a large tree, its bark chafing her hand as she walked around it.  She found an area that didn’t feel like the rest of the tree-the bark was too smooth, almost fake. The more she ran her hands over the tree, the more unnatural it felt to Brea.  She found a handle, which was nothing more than a curved piece of bark, and realized she was standing in front of a door. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she stepped on the landing inside the entrance, a feeling of foreboding washing over her as she closed the door.

Brea moved as quietly and slowly as possible down the spiral staircase she found within.  Her hand ran along the smooth, worn wooden wall while she kept her stick in front of her to gauge the next step down.  She counted forty steps before she reached the bottom of the staircase. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she continued to move toward the only sound, a flutter that sounded like hummingbird wings.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she heard a sound, a flutter like hummingbird wings.  Turning in its direction, she found a narrow tunnel leading deeper into the bowels of the earth.  As she walked down the path, the fluttering sounded louder and louder.  

She had taken approximately a hundred steps when the narrow path opened to a larger room.  A chill ran down Brea’s spine as a cool wind blew past her. She could feel a source of warmth to her left--the direction the fluttering noise was coming from.

“Hello?” Brea called out timidly.  She knew she was playing with fire, announcing her presence when she didn’t know who or what was in the room, but it was her only way to know.  “Is anyone here?”

“Brea,” the now familiar voice called back.  “You must be swift. He will be back any moment.”

Brea quickly made her way toward the voice, hoping that it was the Daerae she had been searching for.  “Who? Nevaegyvar?”

“Yes, and he is very powerful.  No one has ever survived a confrontation with him.”

Brea’s hands traced the cold iron bars of the small cage and felt around for a way to open it.  Finding the edges of a cutout section, and finally a latch, she jiggled at it, but it was locked.  Thankfully, Brea was adept at picking locks after the many times she got locked out of the house by accident.  Corsi liked to tease her, but now her hard-earned skill was going to come in handy! Brea placed her backpack onto the ground and rummaged through it, finding her lock picks.  She reached up to the lock and felt for the keyhole. Once found, she began to use the tools to feel the inner mechanics, listening for the telltale clicks that would let her know the latch was undone.

A sharp inhale broke Brea’s concentration.  She stopped and listened, hearing the nearing footsteps of something larger than herself.  Brea went back to her work, moving the last two rods into place and releasing the lock. An eerie silence was broken only by the sound of a massive body shifting.  Brea puffed out her chest defiantly while trying not to quiver with the uncertainty of what exactly the demon was doing.  

A loud, snarling voice broke the fragile quiet that surrounded them.  “How dare you come into my domain and take that which is mine!”

“She was never yours!” Brea shouted toward where she thought he stood, her voice wavering a bit.  She could feel the warmth of the Daerae behind her, giving her strength. She had to protect this creature with the sweet voice and dragonfly wings.  “You cannot cage her and you will not have her back!”

“And how are you going to stop me?” Nevaegyvar countered as he moved around the room.  A sly smile came over his face and entered his voice. “You cannot see me, nor anything else.  What will you do, little bat?”

Brea’s confidence wavered, trying to figure out how he knew.  She shook her head. It didn’t matter how he knew, she refused to back down now.  Squaring her shoulders, she turned toward his voice once more. “I am sure I can defeat you, Nevaegyvar.  Let us leave in peace before this ends tragically.”

“You will not leave this place with the Daerae, Little Bat.  Of that, I can assure you.”

Brea felt the air change and knew he was moving again.  Due to his large stature, his movements were almost laughably easy to sense.  She waited for the air to swirl closer to her. She knew from the sounds around her, the air’s movements, that he was about to swing.  At the last moment, she dodged, and swung all of her might. She felt her fist connect with the creature and heard the air rush from his lungs as he hit the wall then slid to the floor.

“I told you, Nevaegyvar,” Brea began as she picked up her stick and held it toward his chest.  “I will not give up the Daerae. She is not yours. I may not be able to see, but I am NOT helpless.  I made it through every obstacle on the way here and released this creature from you. I am not afraid of you and I will destroy you if you try to harm us again.”

Brea wasn’t sure she could actually destroy or even banish Nevaegyvar, but she couldn’t let him continue to torture the innocent Daerae he has captured.  If there was anything Brea could do to give the creature its freedom, she would do it without hesitation.

Suddenly, the warmth behind her overwhelmed her, wrapping her in it.  Brea heard the anguished cries of Nevaegyvar. Confused, she listened for his retreating footsteps, but heard nothing.  

“Daerae?  What’s happening?”  Brea felt a hand on her cheek and the calming presence intensified.

“You did it, Brea!  I knew you could.” The Daerae’s voice exclaimed.  “Your courage and conviction gave me back the power Nevaegyvar stole from me, allowing me to send him back to where he came from.”

Brea softly smiled towards the voice.  “I had to protect you. No one should be caged.”

“True,” the Daerae agreed.  “Yet, if you had found me in the village, you never would have had the courage you have now.  Am I correct?”

Brea opened her mouth to protest, then closed it to think over what the Daerae had said.  Brea thought over all the obstacles, over what she had said to Nevaegyvar. The Daerae was right--she never would have known she had the strength to defeat Nevaegyvar if she hadn’t gone on this journey.

“Now,” the Daerae’s voice broke through Brea’s thoughts.  “As you know, I can grant one wish to you. Are you ready to make that wish, Brea?”

Brea nodded her head.  “I started this journey with only one wish in mind, to gain my sight.  However, that is no longer my wish.” She smiled at the slight hesitation in the wind from the Daerae’s wings.  “As I told the Nevaegyvar, I no longer need to see to be me. However, I have a different wish, though I’m not sure it is possible.”

“Speak, then, and let us see what we can do.”

They both giggled at the Daerae’s joke.  “I wish to see you,” Brea answered, her voice softening as she added.  “Then I will be ready to go home. I’m sure my Corsi misses me, as I miss her dearly.”

Brea gasped as she felt an intense warmth over her eyes.  She blinked, and slowly the world came into focus. She was ensconced in a bright glow, separated from her immediate surroundings.  She looked down at herself, taking in her tawny skin, her dirt-covered feet, and her favorite cotton dress that Corsi told her was light blue.  Her eyes darted to the creature responsible for this miracle, slowly drinking in the sight in front of her.

The Daerae was tiny, only about two inches tall, and dainty.  Pale skin glowed in the warm light surrounding them, and her gossamer wings reflected every color of the rainbow.  Her hair fell to her feet in flowing streams, while her eyes were the color of Brea’s dress. Her dress was a multitude of blues and other colors, shifting as she moved.  In a word, she was gorgeous.

Brea felt tears stream down her face.  She never in her wildest dreams thought she would ever see, let alone behold such a beautiful creature such as the one before her.  She reached out tentatively, and the Daerae fluttered closer to give Brea a cheek nuzzle. Brea cupped the little creature to her face to return the gesture.

“Thank you,” Brea sobbed as she released the Daerae.  “Thank you so much for this. May I ask one more thing?”

“Of course, Brea.”

 “What is your name?”

 The Daerae smiled warmly, reaching out to close Brea’s eyes.  “My name is Shenae. Now rest, dear Brea.”

Brea awoke in her bed.  She sat up and got ready for the day, wondering if it had all been a dream.  As she walked into the living area, she was greeted by the feeling of Corsi’s arms wrapping around her.

“Brea, you’re home!”

She wrapped her arms around her grandmother as she felt tears fall on her head.  “I’m home, Corsi, and I promise to never leave again.”

“Were you successful, my child?  Did you find what you needed?”

“I did, Corsi.”  She gave her grandmother another squeeze before she grabbed a piece of bread and headed out for the day.  “And I don’t need to see to know it’s the start of a beautiful day.”

Nearing the center of town, Brea heard the familiar voices of Veradisia and her little gang of bullies.  Brea briefly thought about going a different way but hearing them picking on someone else lit a dormant fire in Brea.  She strode toward the voices, walking stick hitting the ground with every other step. Her foot bumped into something that moved at her touch, though not before she felt the shaking reverberate through her.

“Leave them alone, Veradisia!” Brea demanded.

“Well, well.  Look who we have here, fellas.  The bat has returned.” Veradisia sneered as she walked around the duo.  “Do you really think we are going to believe that you weren’t hiding in your house, licking your wounds all this time?”

Brea listened to Veradisia’s footsteps, taking note of how close they were.  “Stop, Veradisia. I won’t let you pick on anyone anymore.”

“And what are you going to do about it, Batty?” Veradisia challenged.

“Keep it up and find out,” Brea countered, steadying herself with her stick in front of her.

Veradisia shrieked as she lunged toward Brea.  Brea’s ears rang with the noise, but she held strong, letting the wind tell her when to strike.  Brea swung her stick, connecting with Veradisia’s shoulder as she moved out of the way. She heard Veradisia sobbing and turned to once again toward her opponent.

“Let this be a lesson, Veradisia.  You no longer have power over me or anyone else.  Your days of terror are over.”

The town center rang with cheers as the other children shouted and praised Brea for her bravery.  No child in the village had the nerve to stand up to Veradisia.

Brea stooped down and patted the ground until she came upon what felt like an arm.  She smiled and turned her hand over, holding it in the direction she thought the person was.  “It’s okay, you can get up now. She won’t be bothering you anymore.” She felt a hand gently take hers and she helped the person to their feet.

“It’s Jermine, Brea,” one of the other children provided.

Brea pulled her friend toward her and wrapped her arms around him.  After the brief embrace, Brea felt Jermine take her hand and place it on his cheek while his other hand moved her so she was facing him fully.

Brea smiled at the familiar gesture, knowing that Jermine was as deaf as she was blind.  She ran her other hand through his thick curly hair as she spoke. “It’s over,” she repeated.  “She won’t bother anyone again.”

Brea felt the muscles in his face move, letting her know he was smiling, before he nodded his understanding.  Brea nodded back, knowing that this was the start of a new life for both of them. She felt a new drive to help others realize what she had discovered on her journey--that being yourself is enough.

[artemis-entreri]

[[ Cover reveal for the next book in the Drizzt series, Boundless, featuring Jarlaxle. Scheduled release date: September 10, 2019. 

Excerpt:

The Year of Dwarvenkind Reborn

Dalereckoning 1488

He could hear the labored breathing of his poor pony, but Regis didn’t dare slow. For the shadows within the shadows were not far away, black, misshapen things, lumbering and twisted by evil and unrelenting anger.

Demons. Everywhere in the forest, demons.

The halfling weaved about the trees, urging poor Rumblebelly on. He came down around a stone, the trail bending to the south, and into a clearing. He winced, noting the sheen of sweat on his pinto’s brown and white coat.

At least now he could stop, but only briefly, and only because Showithal Terdidy, one of the leaders of the Grinning Ponies, rode onto the small clearing from the other direction.

“Where is Doregardo?” Regis asked, pulling up alongside his friend.

Showithal nodded back the way he had come. “The wood’s thick with the fiends,” he said. “We’ll not get through.”

“And they’re all heading in the same direction,” Regis added.

Showithal nodded. “Doregardo is convinced that these monsters are guided by a greater purpose, and that they know of Bleeding Vines,” he explained. “The beasts are moving in a wide arc, by all reports coming up and down the line, and will strike the town all at once.”

“Then you’ve got to get there before them,” Regis ordered. “All of you, turn about and ride as if the lives of all in Bleeding Vines depend upon your speed, for surely that is the truth.”

“The farms…the villages…”

Regis shook his head. “You cannot get to them, and even if any of you did, you’d only be leading demons to new victims. The farmers will hear the monsters. They have lived in the wilds for all their lives. They will shelter and hide. You must get to Bleeding Vines. All of you.”

“All of us, Spider Parrafin,” Showithal corrected.

Again, Regis shook his head. “Waterdeep must be told,” Regis explained. It was terribly hard for him to speak those words. He wanted nothing more than to turn about and gallop all the way back to Bleeding Vines, then ride the tram beside his beloved Donnola and his dear Rumblebelly all the way to the safety of Gauntlgrym. But he could not. Not now.

Not in this life.

In his previous life, Regis had been the tag-along, too often making victory more difficult for his beloved Companions of the Hall than helping them to achieve their goals – at least, that’s the way he viewed it. In those long-ago years, Regis had been the least of the heroes. This time, this rebirth, Regis had determined to change that course. He would be no burden. He would live as a hero worthy of the friendship of Drizzt, Bruenor, Catti-brie, and Wulfgar.

Now his path was clear before him. He had to get to Waterdeep, the great City of Splendors, the Crown of the North, the most influential and powerful city in all of Faerun. The Lords of Waterdeep could turn back the demon tide, and Regis had to get to them.

“If you’re on to Waterdeep, then you’re not riding alone,” Showithal insisted, moving his own pony up beside Rumblebelly.

“Go tell the Grinning Ponies to return to Bleeding Vines,” Regis ordered. “That mission, too, is critical.”

A commotion in the trees to the side turned the two.

Demons.

“Go!” Regis ordered, and he slapped the flank of Showithal’s pony, sending the mount leaping away, then quick-turned Rumblebelly and galloped off into the darkness in the other direction.

Heavy footsteps followed him as he wove again through the trees, and buzzing loomed overhead, above the canopy.

“I know, my friend,” he whispered into poor Rumblebelly’s ear. “Give me this run and you’ll find a rest.”

Regis didn’t believe it. He knew Rumblebelly would give him all that he asked for, but understood, too, that he would likely run his beautiful blue-eyed pony quite literally to its death.

But he had no choice.

They were all about him. They were above, and, he found out to his great dismay, they were below him, for the ground to the side erupted suddenly, huge pincers snipping tree roots with ease, and the massive demon clawing up from the earth. A hulking, four-armed glabrezu emerged with long, loping strides, easily pacing Rumblebelly.

Behind Regis, a vulture-like fiend leaped and half-flew, half-ran, in close pursuit.

Rumblebelly’s breathing came in ragged gasps, and Regis knew that he could no longer outrun this pursuit.

Still, he said, “No,” in denial, and he put his head lower, coaxing his poor mount ahead more swiftly, recklessly even, and hoped that he would not crash into a tree.

*****

No halfling had ever ridden a pony better than Doregardo, Showithal Terdidy fervently believed, and his dear friend was proving it to him yet again.

Doregardo effortlessly took his black stallion through the tangle of trees, hardly slowing for the obstacles and brambles, anticipating each turn far ahead and leaning in, urging his pony ever forward, obviously confident that the animal would obey. That the mount had full confidence in him was just as obvious.

A host of demons pursued Doregardo, including several he had cleverly and brilliantly pulled from their pursuit of Showithal. They would not catch Doregardo, Showithal believed.

No one could catch the great Doregardo of the Grinning Ponies.

He paced his mount down a slope into another copse of trees, the demons scrambling close behind. Despite his confidence, Showithal held his breath, and indeed grimaced when he saw those trees shaking violently and heard the growls and roars and shrieks of the fiends.

But Doregardo came galloping out the side, he and his mount showing not a mark as far as the distant Showithal could see, and there was not immediate pursuit – indeed, the battle in the copse continued.

Showithal Terdidy managed a smile despite the desperate situation. Doregardo had turned the demons back on each other, a tangling mess of clawing, biting chaotic frenzy.

When the two rejoined in a small clearing a short time later, it was clear that Doregardo had bought them both some time.

“Our companions have all turned back for Bleeding Vines,” Doregardo told his second-in-command. “We’ve lost none, but that will not hold true for long.”

“Too many of the beasts,” Showithal agreed.

As if on cue, the brush behind them began to shake violently and a pair of misshapen demons burst onto the clearing. The halfling pair were already away, though, Doregardo letting Showithal lead in a straightaway run for the distant halfling settlement, while he, Doregardo, went back into his forest dance.

But more shadows loomed about their flanks, and a loud buzzing sound followed them overhead, and for all their efforts and all of Doregardo’s brilliant maneuvering, when the pair rejoined once more on a wide road further along, they knew that they were in deep trouble. They came together again soon after in another small clearing, now understanding the depth of their predicament.

“Others will make it,” Doregardo said somberly to his friend.

“We’ll make it!” Showithal insisted.

Doregardo nodded, but clearly was not convinced. Nor was Showithal, for now the moving shadows were ahead of them, left and right in the trees.

“Right, then,” Doregardo remarked. “Full charge, you. Head down and gallop for all your pony’s life. I’ll keep our ugly fiend friends busy. My love to Spider and Lady Donnola, aye?”

He kicked his pony and started away, but barely got moving, for Showithal grabbed his reins, holding him and the pony back.

Doregardo looked at him curiously.

“You’ll break me clear, only for me to be caught further along,” Showithal explained. “And you know it. Only Doregardo can get to Bleeding Vines, and only alone.”

“Others will get there,” Doregardo insisted.

“Perhaps, but is that a chance you are willing to take? How many will be slaughtered if they are not forewarned?”

“Warn them, then, and I will join you!”

“No,” Showithal said softly. “You go, all speed.

“I’ll grant you a head start.”

The two halflings, friends for all their lives, comrades-in-arms for decades, shared a long look, one of friendship and brotherly love.

And of acceptance.

“Go,” Showithal said.

Still Doregardo shook his head.

“You will make a waste of my valor,” said Showithal.

Doregardo started to respond, but there was really nothing he could say. He didn’t believe that either of them would get out of the forest alive, but if one had a chance, given a head start here, it would, of course, be him. “Pray Regis…Spider, makes Waterdeep,” he said.

“Pray Doregardo makes Bleeding Vines,” Showithal replied. “And pray he gets Lady Donnola and all the others down to the safety of King Bruenor’s mighty gates.”

“I will see you there, then, my friend,” Doregardo said. “In Gauntlgrym, where the demon horde will falter.”

Showithal nodded, but couldn’t find the strength to audibly respond. He yanked back on the reins, then slapped Doregardo’s black pony on the rump as it moved past him.

Doregardo charged away and Showithal Terdidy drew his sword.

It seemed a meager weapon indeed, measured against the hulking forms scrambling about the shadows.

So be it.

The information in this post was sourced from here. ]]

[xlittlelionhamiltonx]

To Me Belongeth Vengeance

{{happy belated bday, @prodigyofprincetoncollegex !! I love you dearly!}} 

“He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

Humbly. Is man ever humble? Does man ever trust in God and His divine plan? 

No. No... humankind was yet a child, stumbling with every step and crying loudly when it fell and scraped its knee. Humankind was a mess, unsure and afraid, and continually disappointing its Father... not that He would ever admit to that...

Sacrilege, Alexander. Your Father is purity and honesty incarnate.

And still... people kill. They hurt and they maim and they torture... they do all that they are instructed not to do, and still, they thrive. 

Why do you not strike them down, Father? Why do you let them go on? 

“Ah!” Alexander curls in on himself, one hand pressed against the wound drawn so haphazardly upon his abdomen, the knife in his free hand shaking violently. He has overstepped. He has sinned, if in thought, alone, and he has beckoned this punishment. 

“God does not ask for perfection. He does not abandon His children for their doubts... for their questions...”

Alex perks up a little, blinking his eyes open and focusing on the peaked wooden ceiling above the empty choir loft. Father Burr seems to have foregone the Old Testament. He chooses not to preach fire and brimstone, though Alex knows that is what he lives and breathes. 

“No father could condemn his own child’s curiosity. Our Father is a good Father, brothers and sisters; he would not discourage the wandering thoughts that He, Himself, has made our minds capable of producing.” 

Does He not, then, Father Burr, condemn His children for taking advantage of the capability he has put in our hands to kill? 

Alex is panting, labored breaths, chest rising and falling like the ocean’s wicked tide. He drops his head over to the side, sweat dripping across his features in tiny, salty rivulets. He blinks his dark eyes a few times, clearing his vision as he attempts to focus on the pale, unseeing eyes that greet him. 

“He loves you for being all that you were created to be. He loves your bravery and ambition, your intelligence and your hope. Unconditionally. As only a Father can.”

“He sounds quite convincing for not believing a word of it, hm?” Alex’s hushed question is met with the cold silence of the dead. He regrets that he had to take action here, knowing Aaron abhors such graphic fits of violence. But it is a weeknight mass, quiet and held in absence of the choir, the pianist seated just near the altar so she might double as a reader for tonight’s scripture. 

The man had offered him no choice. Alexander had often seen him sitting upon a bench near the playground adjacent the church, watching the children play until the last had gone home. Alex had noticed, he had felt that familiar dread that raised the fine hairs upon his nape, and he knew that the matter needed his attention. 

His perch upon the roof of the chapel was typically overlooked by all but the priest whom called the sanctuary his home, and even he was keen to leave Alexander to his own devices. 

God’s will. He trusts in God’s will, not in you. 

It is a warm summer evening, but he still wears long pants and sleeves, covering every twisted scar and elegant scrawl painted upon his brown flesh. He is accustomed to the heat, considering where he grew up, and he pulls his sleeves down a little more, hood up as he studies the scene before him. 

It was only his second day minding this odd man, and already his is given justification for his suspicion. But he is not satisfied. He is not pleased with himself for having faith in God’s word. No... when he sees the man approach a young boy, handing him what appears to be a chocolate bar from his pocket before beckoning him away from the other kids, Alexander is angry. He is disappointed and disenchanted and so goddamn sad, so goddamn heartbroken... and he speaks to his Father... his Lord... the one for whom he protects these broken, ugly creatures...

“I cannot fix them, Father. I cannot vanquish all these wayward lambs. My God, you would have no flock left to watch.” He feels the heat behind his eyes and he fights it angrily, clenching his teeth and rising up from his perch. 

“But let thy will be done.” He drops from the rooftop with unnatural ease, crouching only a handful of seconds before he rises and makes his way toward the nefarious acts being committed. 

It takes him only a moment to reach the pair. He ignores the indignant look on the man’s face as he pulls the boy aside and tells him to return to his friends.  The child is already retreating when Alex finds himself in pursuit of the adult, the man having taken the opportunity to run, as men do when faced with the truth.

It could not even be labeled a fight, so short was the struggle. And Alex, left with a limp body and adrenaline pumping, had no choice but to lug the man up to the choir loft. Mass would begin any moment, after all, and he could hardly burden Aaron with a murder committed upon the estate. 

He murmered to the unconscious form as he moved, more than accustomed to this art of deception.

“I got you buddy, just a little further and you can sleep off that Irish dinner of yours...” 

He is grateful that almost no one crosses their path, and that even fewer take much interest in them. They manage to make it in through the back entrance and a quarter of the way up the stairs without incident. But God does work in mysterious ways, does he not?

It is then, surrounded by naught more than the distant sound of lambs eager to atone, shifting in their pews, and that old, musky smell that somehow settles as a permanent guest in well-loved temples, that Alexander’s plans are upset by the sharp, biting tip of a blade.

He cries out only briefly, clamping a hand over his mouth as he throws the man off of him, a pale fist clenching weakly at the fabric of his shirt. 

“Fucking die, you piece of shi-” 

The pervert is making his attempt at another meek thrust toward Alex’s neck, and the raven-haired man supresses the urge to pull back, instead pushing forward, forcing the attacker to stumble back, foot slipping off of the step and throwing him off balance long enough for Alex to land both palms solidly against his chest, sending him toppling down the stairs. 

His body hits the door that closes off the stairway from the foyer, and Alexander hopes that the noise is being drowned out by the chiming of the church bells. He wastes no time catching his breath, rushing down the steps and reaching forward to lock the door as he had neglected to before. A few, deep breaths, he gives the wound gifted him a quick assessment before leaning down and checking the man for signs of life. 

But his eyes are open and lacking the soul’s spark, his chest is still and his neck is bent at a notably unnatural angle. 

“No last rites for you, I’m afraid.” He exhales softly, picking up the fallen blade and tucking it away before gritting his teeth and hoisting the man up and over his shoulder, pushing down the pain of exertion and moving slowly up the stairwell. 

And that was how he ended up here, as he is, flat on his back, gasping for air and contemplating his next move. He had no worries about being rid of the corpse... once he had managed to remove it from this holy institute, at any rate. Which could prove to be a slightly tricky task if he hoped to avoid being discovered. 

“When we bow our heads in prayer and contemplation, I encourage you all to reflect upon the questions you have. What in the scripture gives you pause? Is there a question that you have told yourself one mustn’t dare ask? If so, now is the time.” 

“I have a question.” There is a new voice, deep and gruff and noticeably agitated. The creaking of wood indicates that the congregation is shifting in their pews, turning to identify the owner of this voice. 

“And I am here to help you find the answer, my son.” 

“I sure hope you can, Padre.” The voice is moving, the pews groaning as their occupants continue to follow the man’s path toward the altar. 

“See, I saw someone draggin’ my brother into this church just a few minutes ago, and I took a gander about the place while you was preachin’, but I didn’t see ‘im anywhere. You wouldn’t happen to know how to answer that mystery, would ya?” There are a few seconds of heavy silence, and it seems even the congregation is holding its breath, listening, waiting, right along with Alex. And when the man does speak again, the voice is quieter, more menacing, and the words make Alexander’s heart skip and his blood boil. 

“I hope you do, because I’d really, really hate to have to kill a man of God.” 

Alexander is up in a heartbeat, peering over the rail, doing what he can to stay cloaked by the shadow of the dim loft. What he sees only aggravates him further. The man is huge and looks as rough as he sounds, and he is towering over Aaron, standing mere inches before him. There is a spark of pride in Alex’s chest when he notes how steady Aaron appears, unwavering and unafraid. 

“I am afraid that I have seen nothing out of the ordinary this evening. But, if we were all to assist you, I am certain we could find your brother. Was he ill? Is there a chance this person was attempting to help him?” 

As he speaks, Alex wracks his brain for a solution to this little problem, a way to remain unseen and unheard and still put a stop to this man before he can do anything regrettable. 

“Not a good time to play dumb, priesty.” He moves forward, reaching out and clasping Aaron’s shoulder, stoking the fire burning in Alexander’s belly. 

And he knows what needs to be done. He knows how to save the priest and punish the sinner. And who better to do it than a ghost? What has he to fear? 

He crouches down, crawling to the lifeless body and ripping open the man’s shirt. He retrieves the dagger from his waistband, using it to carve into the man’s chest, no less certain in his action than he would be if it were pen to paper. When he is finished, he tucks the blade away, quickly pulling one shoe from the man’s foot, ignoring the pain and the sweat that is dripping down his face as he drags the lifeless pedophile back toward the railing. 

Once finished, he stands and takes in the scene unfolding on the altar below. It is not favorable, to say the least. The man is still near Aaron, still close enough to be touching him, but now he is staring out at the frightened church-goers, a twisted smile on his lips and a mania in his eyes. Aaron, despite how terrified he must be, somehow manages to look entirely at peace and in control of the situation. 

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

He needs to act now. He is the power upon which Aaron relies. He is the deliverance the man has preached. He mustn’t leave room for doubt.

“I will ask you one more time, and only one more, where -”

The words are interrupted by the thud of a shoe hitting the floor, the man’s focus quickly shifting toward the object in question. After a moment of confusion, recognition settles over his features, and he releases Aaron with little thought, moving forward and crouching down to retrieve the footwear. He turns it in his hand, looking around and then, finally, up. 

He hardly has the time to draw in a breath before the heavy body of his dead brother is crashing down upon him, pinning him down and drawing out a pained grunt. Alexander follows closely behind, landing with practiced ease, his hood pulled down over his eyes, head bowed and body crouched low as he speaks.

“Go. All of you.” He rises slowly, aggravated by the stunned silence surrounding him as he moves toward the struggling terrorist. 

“Go now!” A few gasps are followed by the sound of the creaking pews and rustling fabric and hurried footsteps, the people rushing to heed his command. He is upon the violent man just as he manages to push his brother’s body off of himself, his eyes barely able to lock onto Alex’s face before the blade has opened his throat, the blood flowing freely while the man chokes on it.  

Even as the man struggles to hold onto his meager life, Alex has ripped open his shirt and set metal to flesh, sketching out the scripture in violent crimson. 

Ne prohibueritis eos!

He steps away from the quickly dying heretic, setting forth in readjusting the cooling corpse of his equally evil brother, making certain that the first responders to the scene will not overlook His message. 

Mea est ultio.

“Forgive them, Father; they know not what they do.” Alexander turns to meet Aaron’s eyes, the air leaving his lungs when he sees the look on the young priest’s face. 

He had been wrong to do this. He had thought Aaron ready to bear witness to the wrath of the Almighty, but now... 

Aaron looked lost. Confused. Terrified. It wasn’t what Alex had wanted for him. Why did he not feel elated? Why was he not in awe of this divine intervention to which he’d borne witness? 

“Be not afraid, Aaron.” Alex rises. He approaches the stunned man carefully, his own dark eyes made darker by the adrenaline, his heart pounding in his chest and his pain all but forgotten. 

“These animals at your feet... they hunted the purest of God’s flock. They stole innocence and planted seeds of hatred.” 

He can hear the sirens approaching, and he knows he has little time. 

“Aaron.” No more than a whisper. He reaches out and trails his fingertips over the priest’s cheekbone, finally gaining the attention he’s been seeking. Aaron looks at him as though he is only just becoming aware of his presence, reaching up to grip his hand as he shakes his head, eyes quicly assessing the taller man’s body. 

“Alexander - you’re injured.” 

“And time will heal me, as it does all wounds.” He squeezes Aaron’s hand, chuckling quietly when the man seems to remember himself, pulling carefully away and taking a small step back. 

“You need a hospital.” 

“And you need to have faith.” Alex doesn’t regret the bite behind his words, even when Aaron flinches and looks away. 

The sirens are much too close now, and Alexander has wasted too much time tending to the priest’s shaken nerves. 

“Pray tonight, Aaron. When dawn arrives, so, too, shall your answer.” 

He heads toward the priest’s quarters, knowing he can escape from there unseen. He doesn’t look back as he retreats, but he sends up a quick prayer of his own. 

“Let him be loyal. Let him be of good faith. Stay his tongue, and stay my blade. Or, come tomorrow, I shall be anointed in blood once more.” 

[aelin-and-feyre]

Character Preferences: Azriel

For my 7k follower milestone. Requested by @cerridwxn @fangirlmo @heyyitsangie and multiple anons. Let me know who you want next!

First meeting/mate bond: The two of you feel it snap at the exact same time. You’ve known each other forever and have been tiptoeing around the other for years, but now that he knows, Azriel is quick to take action. His arms encircle your waist in a second, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing you in and pulling you tighter and tighter to him with each passing second. You respond immediately, though you are still shocked, your hands scraping through his hair as you pull him closer as well. ‘I-I always hoped that maybe -’ he murmurs against your skin, his voice hoarse. ‘I know, me too, but I never even thought to dream that -’ you cut off, unable to express your emotions accurately. His hands squeezing your waist slightly is his wordless response, letting you know he understands. The two of you sink to the floor slowly, holding, caressing, admiring each other, murmuring words of adoration and disbelief. Azriel simply cannot stop smiling. 

Kisses: A peppering of small kisses around your face leads Azriel’s lips until they meet your own. With his hands resting comfortably on your hips and a small smile gracing his features, kisses with Azriel are gentle and happy. The featherlight pecks leading up to it tickle your skin and it is when you start to giggle that Az finally stops messing around and silences your mouth with his. His shadows join his fingers when they travel up your spine and into your hair. The husky laugh of his is music to your ears.

First ‘I love you’s: The Spymaster is an expert at keeping his feelings unheard, but not great at keeping them unseen. Everyone knows Azriel is in love with you but he refuses to admit it. it is very important to him to not pressure you into something you don’t want. He always keeps the ball in your court, it’s always your decision whether to be with him or not. He’s always waiting though. So, you are the first one to say those three words eventually, and Azriel is very quick to say them back, letting out a huge breath of relief when it’s finally out in the open. You laugh when his body visibly relaxes at the confession. ‘You’re a doofus, you know that right?’ you wonder. Azriel just smiles a huge genuine grin, and leans in to kiss you. ‘Yeah, but I’m your doofus.’

Jealousy: One thing’s for sure. Azriel does not send spies to keep an eye on the guy flirting with you just to make sure he doesn’t try anything. No sir, that’s definitely not what he does. Nope. …. Okay but can you blame him? You’re gorgeous and Azriel has been waiting for love for so long and he truly does not want to lose you. Especially to someone who surely does not deserve you. Besides, the spies only stay for a day at most, and then Az feels guilty and calls them off. He’s extremely stealthy about the whole ordeal though, and you almost never know he was jealous in the first place. Other than the fact that his wings are wrapped around you that night as well as his arms, his shadows caressing various parts of your body as if memorizing them because he’s so afraid of you being taken away from him that he can’t help it. 

Proposal: His hands shake so badly right before it happens because he still doesn’t believe that he is worthy of holding your own in his scarred ones. You know it’s happening because you’ve talked about it before and so you grab his hands without hesitation, holding firmly to show him that you love everything about him, even the scars. He takes a deep breath when your eyes meet his, and nods slightly to himself before bending one knee and looking at you with endless hope filling his eyes. When you say yes, Azriel’s siphons flare in his inability to hold back the emotion coursing through him. He brings his hands up to your face, still a little bit hesitant, and you grab them again, placing them on your cheeks and then grasping his own face to bring him to kiss you.

Wedding: All seven of his siphons gleam and pulse on full display as you walk down the aisle towards him. You have never seen Azriel so bright. There is absolutely no sign of his shadows anywhere, and he knows it. His smile stretches across his face and there may or may not be just a small tear in one of his eyes. He does not hesitate as he reaches out and grasps your hand in his own. He does not grimace at all at the difference between your pristine skin and his own. His eyes stay locked on yours the entire ceremony, his wings outstretched and also on full display. His voice is loud and certain when he finally says ‘I do’ and you think you’re heart might crack at how happy he is when you finally say it back. 

Making Love: He is the perfect gentlemen. He makes sure everything he does is okay and welcome and he is so tentative at the beginning that eventually you just have to show him how okay with everything you really are. After that, Azriel is intense. He can go for hours, using his shadows to play with you and you return the favor by playing with his wings.

Cuddling: Azriel feels so safe with you, he will let you hold him for hours on end. His head sometimes comes to rest on your stomach when you’re reading in bed and you will run your hands through his hair absentmindedly, allowing him to relax after a long day. He finds comfort and love in your arms that you are happy to give—and give frequently as you as Az cuddle many times a week. Your feet tangled and arms around each other, you and Azriel get the best nights sleep and wake up happy and refreshed in your loved one’s arms. 

Domestic Activities: He likes everything being nice and neat and tidy, so cleaning days are common around your house. Az makes it fun though, putting on music and even going so far as to dance with you to the rhythm while you sweep and he vacuums. He uses a duster as a microphone and cleaning days soon become the best days of the week, when you both collapse from laughter by the end of them.

When on your period: His shadows inform him of your state before you even realize it, sometimes saving you from ruining your favorite pair of panties. You wake up, just barely feeling the first pains, and he has already drawn you a hot bath with your favorite scented bath oils and bubbles. Candles are lit and he even warmed a towel for you when you get out. It makes the rest of the day so much more bearable.

When they find out you’re pregnant: His shadows let him know the minute your scent changes. He debates hiding it from you until you’re at least a few more days along, but he is unable to hide his excitement. ‘What is it?’ You ask, and Azriel is pretty sure that you are already glowing. In response, a shadow lingers over your stomach, dancing along your skin, somehow both protective and excited. ‘Really?’ He nods, a huge grin breaking out on his face. There is no sign of doubt in his face, no worry or darkness. He is unbelievably happy and it’s contagious. The two of you look down at your still flat stomach, where a shadow has now attached itself. It does not look like it’s leaving. And it doesn’t. Azriel’s faithful shadow stays in front of your stomach as it grows, a protector, informer, and reminder of the joy growing within. 

Holding their firstborn: Many times during labor, Azriel had wanted to slip away into the shadows, but he didn’t because he knew you needed him. So he stuck to your side the entire time, letting you hold his scarred hand as tight as you wanted. Now, however, when you hold his son up for him to carry, every and all shadows absolutely disappear. His hands are steady and sure as he takes his son into his arms and rocks him back and forth. Never has Azriel been surer of anything more than how much he loves this moment, this baby, and you, telling you as much as many times as he can. 

Movie nights: It took you a little while to figure it out, but Azriel loves mysteries. He especially likes to figure out the answer to the mystery before they reveal it. He’ll lean over and whisper a prediction and, sure enough, five minutes later he’ll be proven right. Azriel will grin, so proud of himself for deciphering the clues, and the look is so pure and wonderful, you can’t help but play a mystery movie at least once every week just to see that expression.

Training: Quick and quiet and fast, Azriel teaches with unrelenting patience and care. He makes sure you understand every step of a maneuver before trying it, slowly working through the motions to get you to master the skill. When that is done though, Az begins to play dirty. He uses his shadows to appear behind, under, or sometimes above you, wholly disorientating as you try to wield your weapons against him. He toys and smiles and laughs but then picks you back up, brushes you off, and says, ‘Start again’.

When you’re sick: When you are sick, Azriel will cuddle with you. He holds you close and wraps his wings around you while you sleep it off. The shadows tell him when you are about to throw up and he will rush you to the bathroom before you even know what’s happening. His gentle hands brush your hair back from your face and run soothing circles over your back as he waits for you to be done, and then its back to cuddling until it all repeats.

Holiday Season: Because of his Spymaster skills, Azriel is an amazing gift giver, as he always knows exactly what you want. He is a master present wrapper as well and will sit in the living room contently wrapping gift after gift, humming to himself. His corners are perfection and he never cuts the paper too small for the box. You always know which one is for you because he places a meticulously crafted bow in your favorite color on the top.

Preferences Masterlist 

[chibichocopaws]

Visions of a Dark Star

Visions of a Dark Star

A theory by chibichocopaws!

(Note: This is stupid long. There are no actual facts backing my theory up, it is, after all a theory. I am open to friendly discussion or debate on the topic as well. Apologies for any grammatical errors. I may or may not have written parts while enjoying some prescribed pain relievers. And....

SEASON 6 VLD SPOILERS AHEAD!

K.thanks!)

Krolia: “Time collapses this close to dark stars. Going through the light triggers glimpses of the past and the future.” (Season 6, Episode 2: Razor’s Edge)

We are starting with Kieth's return to the Castle of Lions in Season 6, Episode 4: The Colony. He seems very accepting of what's happening with Shiro, and even slightly pulled back when he sees Shiro at first.

What I mean by this, is the first time Keith speaks to Shiro is over a com when he's on the Altean space pod. He seems slightly frantic, given the information about Lotor. He quickly identifies himself, saying "Shiro it's Keith." Then instantly asks where Lotor is. Granted, this isn't very unlike a Leader of Voltron to do. "It's me. Don't fire. Friend not foe. Now here's the important part."

But even when he lands the Altean pod, and steps out, there's little interaction between the two. Now, Sheith fans jump on the look Shiro gives Keith. It's a big "Holy shit, you look hotter." Look. As a Sheith fan, I'm not going to argue that look, but I am trying to be unbiased here. Soooo, how about we take that look as something different. Where is the hug? Where is the hand shake? Some sort of physical contact. We know Keith and Shiro share physical contact frequently. A hand on the shoulder, an arm around the shoulder, etc. It's uncommon for them to not be near each other, or exchanging a touch. We know Keith doesn't do this with many others. “He's not exactly handing out love hearts to anyone.” Whether that be as a friend or more. Again, different topic. So, we know Keith is reserved to begin with during this reunion, so perhaps that's really what the look is for. Keith barely acknowledges Shiro here. Sure, he's matured, but he's holding back. There's only one point he's smiling at Shiro when he's returned. Otherwise, he's rarely interacting with him. He's brushing off Shiro’s questions, and focusing on other people's questions. If you watch the episode closely, he rarely even looks at Shiro.

To touch on the “one time he is smiling” was when Haggar was looking through Shiro’s eyes. Of course she was. Why would she not be. The universe really hates Keith sometimes. Poor guy. Anyways, it's after the introduction of Krolia, when she thanks Shiro for raising him to be the man he is today. So, even if we dissect this, it can still stand to reason, that he's simply smiling because of his mother's words. If they had the visions, and Krolia too saw what was bound to happen, why would she do this? It's a funny thing, mothers. They do things that their kids don't always understand, but it's for the best. Krolia understands that Shiro has been and is a huge part of Keith’s life. She's had 2 years and countless past and future visions to discover this, nevermind if Keith opens up to her verbally (which is likely considering 2 years with only one other person, not including cosmic wolf because I'm left to assume it cannot communicate, is a long time to sit in complete silence, especially with all their dirty secrets being shown in visions to each other). So perhaps, Krolia does and says this more for Keith than Shiro. Krolia is difficult to read though, she's naturally obscure with her facial expressions, most likely due to her being Galra and a member of the Blade of Mamora.

So let me throw this out there. Based on what we know from Episode 2, every time that time collapses, Keith and Krolia fell victim to visions of the past and the future. Yet, Episode 2 only showed one vision from the future, then proceeded to only show visions of the past. Yet, this makes no sense, unless of course, the visions of the future were obscured by the creators to "not give anything away" (such as the small snippet of battle between Shiro/Kuron and Keith. As viewers we only knew it was going to happen, though we didn't know to what extent or why at the time of episode 2).

They were on that space whale for 2 years. I'm not sure what the frequency of time collapses was, but they occurred on the space whale as well. It seemed the trip to the space whale from the destruction of their ship, could not have lasted more than a couple of days to a maximum of a week. I say this based on Keith being human, because he mentions they won't survive much longer without food or water. Some humans can train their bodies to go longer periods without sustenance, and sadly, I imagine Keith has had to do just that based on his history as a child. Ok, so supposedly the average human can last without food for about three weeks. I, personally don't believe that. (Backstory: I went an entire week without any food as a cleansing exercise and by day 6 I was about ready to pass out, day 7 found me literally blacking out randomly. Keeping in mind, I only drank water, and continued to work at a grueling physically laboring job). So I’m assuming this 3 weeks statement is for those that can basically veg out without much, if any, physical labor. Now, water is a different story. The human body cannot survive very long without it (a matter of days really). Days under normal circumstances, not extreme labor, like pushing from space rock to space rock, sweating from exertion, etc. But, if we take into consideration that Keith is also half Galra, that may extend the amount of time he needs liquid. I am not familiar with how frequently Galra need sustenance to survive.

Back on topic though... In that time we were given three time collapses. So, let's say we go with the maximum of a week they were jumping from space rock to space rock before encountering the whale. (This time frame is important because we need to figure out how often the time collapses were occurring and we need a point of reference, which would be prior to the space whale) That's 3x52 (52 weeks in a year) which is 156 time collapses in a year. Now that's 156 times 2 for 2 years that they were gone, and that's 312.

Obviously that's not including any changes. So yes, there's a possibility that maybe the whale has blocked some of the collapses, or that the collapses happen less frequently the closer or farther away the whale gets to or from the star. Or even if the collapse is blocked from hitting them by something. But even if it were only 100 visions of the past and future, that's still A LOT!

So here's my theory. Keith knows. He knows the entire time what's going to happen. I'm basing this on a linear future, meaning it cannot be altered.

There is a time in episode 4 where Keith tries to reach out to Shiro (right after Shiro steals a pod and Lotor and flies off, Keith calls him through vocal com) desperately. He tried to keep his voice calm, telling Shiro it will be alright. Without my theory, it's something Keith would maybe do. I mean, if he doesn't know what's happening, why would he speak calmly to Shiro. Why wouldn't he yell and be like "Shiro what are you doing!?" Sure, he's matured in two years, but it seems like something more of a last hope reach out. I truly believe, at this point, he knows already. He knows that Shiro is a clone. He knows that they are going to battle, but that doesn't mean he can't try to stop it still.

But, 2 years is a long time to come to terms with the inevitable. It by no means makes it any easier, but it can be accepted. He's also had 2 years to discuss this with his mother. Now, looking at Krolia, she is very cool headed. She seems to know herself and her limits very well. She has seemed to since before having Keith. Krolia very well could have been the voice of reason he needed to accept that he may have to kill Shiro/Kuron, or at the very least, fight him.

Now, because it's not released, it's impossible to know how much was revealed in the future visions. The past visions seemed to be weird intervals, some long, some very short. So I'm not sure what was shown for future visions or the lengths of them. Though 2 years is a long time to get the entire fight and what brought Shiro to that place. So, I honestly have little doubt.

Ok, this finally wraps around to “The Battle”. Ugh. My heart hurts rewatching this episode, but I didn't feel I could full circle my theory without doing it.

Season 6, Episode 5: The Black Paladins.

The cracking sound you're hearing? Oh, just my heart shattering. I'll find some glue or something later.

Anyways. They rush out as Voltron to fight Haggar’s goonies. I really want to call them the switchers. It's hard to keep up who's side they're on. Point is, they do their battle, get flung into a rock and Haggar opens up a wormhole. So at this point he says “We have to make sure we get Shiro back.” (Well there's this little conversation prior to this line, but it doesn't pertain to my point.)

Hunk: “But Shiro isn't Shiro anymore.”

Keith says he knows, but it's almost exasperated. Like, sure he could have taken that tone because it was obvious, or he could have taken the tone because he knew well before they did. He says “But something is wrong with him, the Galra or Lotor have to be behind it.” Weird right? Because if he had visions for two years, he should have been able to piece things together, right? Maybe not because there's two bad guys right now. Lotor and Haggar (which would currently be classified under as Galra). So sure, he's had visions, but it's like being handed 5 different ingredients to a meal and telling someone “cook whatever with just this”. If you hand those same 5 ingredients to someone else, there's a good chance they won't come up with the same menu. So, maybe Keith was able to piece together most of it, but pinpointing which bad guy was responsible for which scene (ingredient) could be trickier for him.

So after their little chit chat, Keith goes on to say: “We all know he wouldn't give up on us, we can't give up on him.” Yet, he doesn't say this immediately. He stops, closes his eyes, takes a breath then says it. Why? We know the creators of VLD don't ever put anything in the show without meaning. So why have Keith pause? This action, the looking down, closing your eyes, breathing. It's a way to center our thoughts. He's trying to remain focused, but why? Is it because he feels himself slipping, becoming emotional? I mean, he doesn't look emotional. Or is it because he's trying to re-center himself within the timeline of the visions he remembers?

Why does he have to recenter himself within the timeline of visions? Maybe something is missing! Maybe he was unable to piece together why the other Paladins weren't by his side during his battle with Shiro. Maybe he thought they gave up on Shiro. Maybe this part of the timeline wasn't revealed to him (this part being the fact that only Keith gets through the wormhole), so he felt that he needed to reassure them that Shiro was worth saving.

Now, look at Keith’s shift when he yells disband. All that coolness from earlier, the calm collectedness he had is gone, and he legitimately looks like something has clicked. He gets it. He understands why they aren't there during the battle, because the only one who can make it through the wormhole is him. He goes from calm to confident in a second. And although his facial features change when the speed is intense, he doesn't look scared or nervous. Just in pain. Like he legit knows he's going to make it, it's just taking a lot of exertion on his body to do so, but he has no doubt he will get through. Why? There should be a glimmer of doubt unless he knew otherwise.

Except of course when he comes out the other side of the wormhole and is met with a fleet of Galra battle cruisers. Oops. Guess that part wasn't in the vision. Oooor maybe it was. He literally effortlessly glides through that. The Black Lion isn't at full capacity with its broken thruster, and yet he GLIDES through the line of fire, almost as if he's done it before. So why the face of surprise? Let's be honest. Someone could tell you “oh, there's like a thousand bees over there. Look I took a picture even.” But then you go over there and seeing a thousand bees can be intimidating face to face. Or, maybe he's surprised because he recognizes it instantly. Like “Oh, right. Seen this part before.” This would also make sense, if he didn't know why the other Paladins weren't around for the fight. As in, he missed a vision from two seconds earlier, but now it's one of his visions again.

Even Ezor turns around and is like “Wow, I can't believe he made it through that.” Maybe she's talking about the wormhole, or maybe she's talking about the fleet of Galra battle cruisers.

His mini battle with Acxa kind of proves my point further. He has been Lion-less for over 2 years. Sure, it could be like riding a bike, but his moves are so precise, you know, almost like he knows what's going to happen!

Also, he flies right to the ship and to the area where Shiro, Lotor, Ezor and Zethrid are. How did he know where they went in the middle of a fleet of ships, while distracted by Acxa? (As a side note…. I love Ezor’s line of “Is it broken?” *poke* *poke*. She's so damn cute I can't take it.)

Now, I personally think Keith does not believe this is a linear timeline. I think he truly believes he can alter what he saw somehow. So at this point Acxa has grabbed his attention again. He says “Think. Think. How are we going to get in?” If he truly believes he can change this timeline, at this point he could really be trying to avoid the next part from happening.

Now things are going to get intense and I'm going to cry… again.

“Shiro…. Shiro come in! I don't know what's wrong, but I know we can fix this.” Listen to that desperation! Still stuck on him not knowing? Him just being more mature? Spent so much time with his mother he adapted her calmness in moments of crisis? I disagree. He's begging. Keith is legitimately begging. He knows where this is leading, and he's pulling a last call to try to stop it before it goes there. We know he saw a part of the fight in a vision. We know that much. He has to know where this is going. “Let me help you.”

But wait…. Acxa has locked his position. He knows she's on his tail. Why isn't he moving out of the way? He's given her a clear line on his position. Keith is an ace pilot. He can maneuver and have a conversation. Why isn't he? Because Shiro is more important? Sure we could go with that, or because he knows she won't fire. He saw she doesn't fire.

At this point he turns his attention towards Black. Look at his face. Listen to the sound of his tone. He's accepted this is going to happen. His facial expression is bitter acceptance. Bitter acceptance in the manner that he knows it's going to happen, but it doesn't mean he has to be happy about it. “I know you're hurting. We just need to keep it together a little longer.” He said we. We need to keep it together a little longer. He's hurting too. He knows what's about to happen. How could he not. He's not only telling Black, he's telling himself.

At this point we have a focus shift. The virus shuts down the Castle of Lions, it's panic, but let's focus on what little amount of Krolia we can see. When Pidge gets the systems fixed for all of like 3 seconds, Krolia remains rigid. As if she knows it's not going to last. This could be a stretch, sure. I mean, maybe she's just rigid from the panic, but when the systems fail again, you can see her face. It's detailed. She's worried, but distant. She's not worried about herself or the crew. Distant look implores us to believe she's worried about someone or something that's not present. Keith. Shiro. Their battle. If Keith saw Krolia’s past, it's safe to assume Krolia was able to see Keith’s future. At first, I wondered if this was only when they were touching, but it appears not. If we go back and look at Episode 2 again, there is a point, on the space whale, where Krolia sees a young Keith over his father’s gravestone. At this point Krolia is not touching Keith. She's across the way sitting next to the fire with Keith on the other side sleeping, or at least laying down. So it's easy to assume the memories and future visions are shared between the two of them every time the time collapses.

Ok, skipping over the Lotor/Honerva and switchers (Yup. Doing it. Zethrid, Acxa and Ezor shall now be known as the switchers) scene, it's unrelated (though… woah Lotor you sneaky bastard).

Next we see Keith has found an abandoned shuttle pod. He tracks the footsteps. And his face. It says it all. “This is it. It's time.” The pure definition of determination. He's ready. It's happening. There's nothing he can do or say at this point. The time has come.

He even walks with purpose. But here's another thought. When he no longer has footprints to follow, how does he know where to go? He takes a lift and goes exactly where Shiro is. How did he know unless he saw it?

There's a lot of facial expressions talk for the next few scenes. So first he enters the room with a surprised look on his face. This could be from a “where am I?” in a sense of visions showed him nothing, or with my theory this could be a “Wow, it's exactly as the vision showed me.”

The next facial expression is back to determination, which leads me to believe the surprised look was more of a “Wow, exactly as my vision.” If he were lost or unsure of himself he wouldn't have switched to determination so quickly and suddenly.

Now, the determination expression could also be confusion. If he's confused, it could really just be him thinking “Ok, I'm here, but where is Shiro? This is where I'm supposed to be, but I don't see him.”

Next he seems genuinely surprised. He places a hand on the clone pod, and one by one they all light up. This very well could have not been part of a vision based on his reaction. Sure, the pods were there during the battle, therefore there during his vision, but it could have been background, and he could have been far more focused on the battle with Shiro as opposed to what was around him.

But, “Hello Keith” is in his vision. If we go back to Episode 2, those words are in it. At this point Keith turns. He kind of looks surprised but I interpret the look more as a “Oh no.” So at this point, we know for a fact Keith has seen this. We don't know how much of this he has seen. The entire thing? Just parts? We don't know. We do know he's seen from this point and at least part of the battle based on what was shown to us from episode 2.

In the vision from episode 2 we hear the following words. “Hello Keith.” “Yes. I know.”

“It's going to be ok, we just have to get back to the castle.” “Shiro!!!!!”

and “....are not going anywhere.”

Which, if we're following it in sequence, means he saw the entire before-the-fight-sequence, but also more. The beginning of the fight Keith does not yell Shiro. The words were all spoken before Shiro goes in for attack.

Next scene, Pidge to the rescue in the worst way. Also not pertinent to this, but something I would like to touch base on some other time.

Battle ensues between Keith and Shiro, but Keith isn't fighting. At least not at first. Keith is strictly defending. At least until his helmet comes off. The punch hits him hard, maybe he whacks his head on the way down. His Galra is showing. (kek). It isn't until his Galra side comes out that he starts fighting back. This could be because he doesn't want to hurt Shiro, or because he's still holding out hope that the timeline isn't linear.

“That's the Keith I remember.” Seems to spark something in Keith and bring back his human side, and once again he starts avoiding attacks and defending. No longer on the offense.

When Shiro knocks down a tower, and Keith starts talking to him by saying “Shiro.” Is this the Shiro from Episode 2? It's hard to tell. This Shiro call sounds more raw vocally, than the vision. So, let's move on, pretty sure this is not it.

Now, I know this was touched upon by someone else, but here’s another take, Keith’s lack of reaction to Shiro’s hurtful words. “And I should have abandoned you, just like your parents did. They saw that you were broken. Worthless. I should have seen it too.” If Keith had been able to hear these words in any of the visions, he could have already dealt with the pain they caused. He could have already spoken with Krolia about it. She has already told him he was the most important thing to her. So I believe he's already dealt with that pain, and been reassured of its falseness by Krolia herself.

Ooh, another time Keith yells Shiro. At this point Shiro is… well I'm not really sure what's happening. His hand is connecting with the Galra tech and turning into a giant laser? Well, whatever the case may be, this sounds more like the Shiro yelled in ep 2. So, this implies Keith’s first and only on screen vision was from before the battle to this point. Keep in mind, the creators would not include an in depth vision in episode 2, but leave hints. They didn't want to give away the fight entirely.

Now, the next set of scenes depicts Shiro destroying the base. There are times where Keith seems surprised, but ironically, he knows when to jump out of the way of a falling piece without looking up to see it. How would he know to jump out of the way? He's already seen this all happen. He's pretty banged up, sure, but just because he knows what's happening before it happens, doesn't mean it's less painful either physically or mentally. Remember, we are basing this on a linear timeline. So regardless, certain things are going to occur.

He lands on a ledge, catches his breath for a moment and immediately looks in the direction of his blade, like he already knew where it had landed. He's determined. He knows he has to get to it. He knows it's the only way to end the battle, but his body is exhausted. Far too much exertion.

He doesn't make it till the last second, but does manage to grab it before Shiro’s killing blow. Next we fans all die a little. We all know the line. “Shiro, please. You're my brother. I love you.” That's a whole different subject for a different time. (Can't even describe how difficult it is to not touch on this right now, but it's not pertinent to my point.) So Shiro proceeds to tell Keith that the castle and Paladins are gone. Why doesn't Keith react? Sure he's using all his strength to hold off Shiro from cutting his head clean off, but he should have had some sort of reaction unless he knew it wasn't true! He saw it wasn't true.

Now, there's a chance that he does react. That the news is what wakes up his Galra side, but I don't really think so. It's several moments after Shiro’s words that Keith reacts. If we look at just moments before when Keith was punched, we can use this as a safe assumption of what causes his Galra side to wake up. Pain. He's being burned by Shiro’s blade. Boom. Galra side is awake.

So, with the Galra power awakening, Keith gains strength and cuts off Shiro’s arm. The camera pans to his face. Oh gosh. The feels are too strong. Keith is the definition of regret right now, but is it just regret that he's hurt Shiro, or is it regret for more. Regret he couldn't stop this before it got to this point. It's a horrible thing.

They fall, but his face. Oh that agonizing face. What's this tell us? He didn't want it to be like this, but he's not giving up. He could be not giving up because it was a promise Shiro made that he needs to reciprocate, or maybe he already knows Shiro will come back to him.

Flashbacks. End episode 5. Aaaah.

Nope. Not done yet. Hah. You thought that was it?

Season 6, Episode 6: All Good Things

This episode starts off strong. And confusing for my theory, but things still work, I promise. The visions from Episode 2 are never inclusive of thoughts that we can see. They tend to be themselves during the visions/memories. So why does Keith look surprised and sound surprised by Shiro’s words in the black lion? Because, technically, that never actually happens. It's in Keith’s mind (well actually Black’s mind). So because it doesn't occur on a physical plane, it is not shown in his visions, thus he is surprised by Shiro.

This also relates back to my theory of Keith having known. He seems unsure now. Out of nowhere. He's reacting how we would expect Keith to react when Shiro stole Lotor. He's angry, scared, nervous, anxious. What happened to our calm, collected and determined Keith? Where'd he go? Could it be because Keith never had a vision of this. He wasn't prepared for this? I really believe so.

But what about when he says “The others. You said… you…” And then glowy Shiro appears behind him and Keith turns, interrupting himself. This leads us to believe that Keith didn't know the others were going to be ok after all, right? I disagree. So far, Keith has been very aware of every moment. Things have been very linear, but he's done everything he can to try to change it. This was never in his visions, and now he's doubting them. Now he's wondering if he did change things, and that fear that maybe things aren't linear anymore is taking hold, and Keith is Keith once more. Sporadic. Moody. Easily angered Keith.

“I died Keith.” Surprise! Keith didn't know this either, even with my theory. Because again, he was only being shown things that happened on a physical plane. So if we take this scene out entirely, and pretend it didn't happen, it would still be difficult for Keith to piece that information together unless specifically told so on the physical realm.

Back to calm and collected Keith now. Things are back to normal, visions are back in sync? Notice how he doesn't tell any of the crew that Shiro died. He just says that the other Shiro is a clone. So if he had a vision of this part, he still wouldn't have known Shiro was really dead, thus the shock when he found out.

Almost half an episode not pertaining to this post later, and we have Krolia asking Coran if setting a bomb off in the main turbine is a good idea. Keep in mind, if Krolia and Keith had experienced future visions, she could be nervous at this point that this is where the Castle of Lions gets destroyed. If the visions were not shown to them in a linear fashion, but random fragments, there's the possibility that she doesn't really know exactly when or how the Castle of Lions is destroyed. But if you also notice, she doesn't seem too surprised that his theory worked, just relieved.

Back to Keith. After unlocking the Black Lion’s thruster wings and making it back to the team. Keith says “Now hurry, we don't have much time. Form Voltron.” I mean, this could be an educated guess. Maybe he just assumes that Lotor will be up and moving quickly, but look at his face. Again. Self assurance. Self confidence. He knows.

Season 6, Episode 7: Defender of All Universes

The battle with Lotor. Ok, trying to make this a quick synapses as opposed to going attack per attack, otherwise this will result in another Episode 5 length segment lol. So, Keith is making some great calls during this battle, quick on defense, quick on the offense calls, but what really struck me was when he yells “move”. Is that Shiro telling him? Or is that him remembering? Or is his reaction time (after two years of peaceful waiting) that good?

Ok, what about when Lotor teleports (for the first time)? Well, if we look at Kieth’s face here, he's the only one that isn't showing an expression. He's blank. Completely blank. Almost like he's trying to recall what happens next. He looks over right before the portal appears though, why before if he didn't know?

Next scene shows Krolia staring at the pod that Shiro is being put in by Coran. Her face. It's of betrayal, pain and yet relief. She knows too.

Voltron and quintessence scene was next, yanno, after Voltron got the snot kicked out of him. I mean, there's only so much they could have done, even with Keith knowing what was going to happen. Voltron was infinitely slower than Lotor’s suit. But anyways, on topic here. Keith says it's the only way, they have to try to enter the quintessence field to win. Everyone else has trepidation or nerves, but not Keith. He knows.

In the quintessence field Keith seems surprised once more, but only after his “we did it look.” This could be because maybe, the quintessence field isn't exactly a physical plane of existence. I mean it is the plane between existences, so perhaps it falls into the same category as Black’s consciousness. Or maybe it is considered a physical plane, and he's just caught up by its intensity. I mean, a infinite space full of power? Who wouldn't get caught up in the moment?

So after the battle, and the Castle of Lions is destroyed Keith says “We need to find somewhere to land to see if we can help Shiro.” He seems calm, but not necessarily knowing. It's hard to tell with this scene. I feel it would be easier if they showed his facial expression, but they simply showed Shiro.

Now Keith admits that Shiro’s soul is in Black, but heard out of context there's a good possibility that, if Keith had seen this as a vision on the space whale, that it was misinterpreted. Maybe he thought that somehow they transferred his spirit there to save him because the clone body was barely alive. We have to think about those ingredients again. They've been handed to Keith randomly, and he can't be entirely certain what he's required to make. What order he's supposed to put them in.

I must point out here, that this scene focuses a lot on Lance’s grief, panning away from Keith, so it's difficult to really tell what Keith is thinking or what he looks like at the point Allura walked up to the Black Lion to rescue Shiro’s soul.

At some point the scene pans to the Paladins watching Allura. Everyone has their eyes wide and their mouth hung… except for Keith. His mouth is open, but his eyes are not wide. We know wide eyes is an expression Keith takes often. So it's not like a shocked expression would be out of place on his face either. So why aren't his eyes wide in shock. He knows what's happening. His eyes are squinted slightly, as if expressing a relieved “finally”.

Keith does look surprised and hopeful when it works, but if we look at Krolia, she's smiling and doesn't even flinch a single bit (unlike Romelle) when the Green Lion roars behind her.

And to testify for my cause more, Keith looking surprised and hopeful, keep in mind what Keith has experienced in life. Things can being going perfectly for him and suddenly everything is in pieces. It's a mindset he's used to expecting, why would this be any different. Sure, based on my theory, he's seen the outcome, and thus far everything has been true, but Keith is the universe’s punching bag. He's privy to this, he always expects the worst, and I'm not surprised he would wait with bated breath for the validity of this part of his visions.

While we've spoken about his facial expression. The ending. (Wait... is that my heart glue!?) Look at Keith's face now. Totally different. Relief. Happiness. He's back to looking at Shiro how he used to. How he hasn't since before the space whale. He knew. He had to have known.

Aaaand end! Well of my points from the episodes.

In summary, I truly believe Keith and Krolia have seen every moment on the physical plane of both their pasts and their futures up until this point. I can't quite tell how much farther past the end of Season 6 they have seen, but with the grin on Kieth’s face at the end of the episode, he definitely knows something we don't know. I can't wait to see if this theory is true, and I would love to hear what others think of my theory. If you totally disagree please share with me! I would love to hear other people's theories, or even examples on why my theory is bogus. Bring it on!

And, if you've made it this far. OMG I love you. I love you. I love you. Special kudos and Web cookies for you.

Thanks for reading! :D

[boymeetsweevil]

Mistletoe

Grouping: Reader x Jimin, friends to lovers??? (mentions of taegi???)

Word Count: 3.3k, no warnings except for a kiss among gooey friends (and the fact that I still need to edit this and that its not even xmas anymore :<)

Summary: Jimin just can’t seem to get a moment alone with you at this christmas party, and you just can’t seem to stop baking...

Your Christmas Eve parties were known far and wide amongst your friends as perhaps the best party of the year. That was because you were determined to be the best damned host and party planner there ever was. 

You always started planning the decorations right after Halloween because you had enough time to plan and it was late enough in the year to gauge what interior design trends you would have to follow to stay hip. 

You also prepped for cooking all the hors d’oeuvres by hand at a frightening hour in the morning so they were all steaming hot and fresh by the evening of the party. Your eggnog and spiced cider was also a guest favorite and was guaranteed to get everyone to that nice and warm buzzed place.

Your playlist had been perfected after all these years, thanks to the help of your DJ friend Yoongi, and was always a superb mix of classics and renditions done by the hottest pop stars. 

It was safe to say that you were the Martha Stewart of Christmas parties. This year was no different. 

Technically, this year was slightly different because this year the party would take place at Jimin’s place. 

Jimin was your long-time best friend from undergrad. He was a finance major in college and was now living enviously well for someone of his young age in a pretty Seoul apartment near the investment banking district, hence the reason why the party was to be hosted there. Your place was out of the question because you were still, sadly, living like a college student in your tiny studio, surviving off noodles and granola bars. You had studied classical literature and while you did enjoy your current job as a poetry teacher in a small public school on the outskirts of the city, your cramped living space and meagre funds wouldn’t cut it for the party. It was one thing to host a party in a tiny 1 bedroom when all your friends had also been living in tiny dorms. But now that you were long graduated, it wasn’t cute anymore.

If it were anyone else, you would probably be secretly jealous and resentful of their well-paying job and beautifully open and spacious interior living plan. But as you looked up from your grocery list and turned back to look at Jimin as he pushed the cart behind you, you just felt lucky. 

Lucky to have met him when you did in your sophomore year when you took an introductory dance course to skirt around the university’s mandatory physical education credit. Jimin had been in the corner of the room, assisting the dance instructor by going and correcting people’s posture while she taught in front. You had been hiding your two left feet horribly in the back but he was ever-supportive and helped your personally to master the choreography for the end of term performance.

Lucky to have stumbled upon him next term in your huge writing seminar on the first day and sitting next to him, dreading that he might not remember you from before. The way he had smiled at you had erased any social anxiety you had, though, with his eyes crinkling softly in the corners beneath thick black bangs. You made a regular habit of meeting up on the days the class met and reviewing notes and studying for exams.

Lucky that, along the way, he invited you to dance ensembles and you felt like you could show him the drafts of your creative writing that he would later convince you to enter into writing competitions. You quizzed him for his statistics class every week and took him out to dinner when he got a well deserved A-.

“Didn’t you say we needed cherries?” You turn at the sound of his voice and realize you had walked past the main ingredient of the famous pie you made at each Christmas Eve party. However, this year the pie was not scheduled to make an appearance

“I did, but I looked more into the budget for this year and I can’t afford to do as much as I usually do. Things have been kind of tight lately.”

“I’ll handle the grocery bill,” he flashed a brilliant smile at you before picking up two bags to compare in size. He dropped both bags in the cart after a bit of deliberation and your eyes drew wide.

“Oh my god, Jimin, I cannot let you do that. I’m already using your house.” You tried to remove the bags but he pulled the cart away from you.

“Exactly. You’re hosting your amazing party this year, and I don’t even have to leave my house to attend it. Don’t you think its the least I can do?”

You couldn’t necessarily argue with him when he spun it like that. And truthfully, you didn’t like having to cut back on things for this party. It was your pride and joy and you loved seeing people’s eyes light up. So, you ditched your new list and downloaded your regular list from your cloud drive and shopped as you normally would. It hurt your heart when you saw the total at the cashier’s post, but the easy way Jimin handed over his sleek platinum card without blinking at the price eased your worries.

The rest of the day could only be described as the calm before the storm. You drove back to Jimin’s place and let him be a manly man and unload the groceries despite the fact that you were also more than capable of doing so yourself. Jimin then turned on a playlist and made some tea while you started decorating. It was an all day process, especially this year given all the extra ground in his apartment that you had to cover. Which was why you were doing it the day before because the next day could only consist of cooking. Jimin sat down and did some work while chatting intermittently with you. Sometimes he would get up to help you with hanging strings of lights on a high corner or fixing long tinsel ropes to all the door frames. 

When you got to your last box of decorations, it was starting to get dark outside and you were itching to go home and pass out. You opened the box and pulled out a stick stack of medium-sized paper snowflakes and wall-friendly adhesive and got to work on the large picture. The sound of a laptop closing and a chair creaking caught your attention and you turned to see him approaching your spot. He paused to admire the view of the city and skyline.

“I’ll make sure not to cover up the buildings”, you said after watching him for a beat. He nodded, only half listening.

Looking at Jimin get lost in the beauty of something was one of your favorite things to do. especially since you ended up staring at his angelic profile most of the time. You had to admit you were proud of how hot your best friend was. You shoved a stack of snowflakes in his hand to snap him out of it.

“Time for more work,” you smiled cheekily at him.

“I’ll help you with the last box if you order takeout,” he smiled back, displaying white teeth.

“Deal. Have you seen the size of the last box? You don’t know what you just got yourself into.” Once dinner was on its way over, you returned to the window to examine his handiwork.

“Be honest,” he said cautiously, “Did you have your 5th graders make these?”

“How could you tell?”

“Easy. You would never allow any 5-pronged snowflakes but I’ve seen at least 12 in this stack already.”

“You got me. I just figured it was a waste not to use all that free labor. Plus their hands are little so they can cut more delicate designs than I can.”

“They can’t be that much smaller than yours,” he grabbed one of your hands and turned it over to look at it, “Your hands are smaller than mine. And that’s saying something.”

“Give me my hand back. I’ll have you know I stopped wearing children’s gloves when I was 14.”

“You’ve come so far,” he deadpanned.

“Finish your work or I’m eating your portion of the pizza. There’s still the whole box of decorations left, remember Jiminie?” You bat your lashes at him before going over to the box in question and getting started on placing glittering wreaths made with fragrant pine branches along the mantel of his fireplace.

“I can’t believe you have a real fireplace.”

“I can’t believe you had your kids make these too.”

“What? I didn’t hurt anybody. And kids love glitter.”

“That’s true. Alright, I’m done with the snowflakes. What’s next?”

“Well, let’s see.” 

You walked over to the box again and fished out a basket of sprigs with red bows and white berries glued onto them. You shoved the basket in his waiting arms while you pulled out some mini flame-less candles that you would place in jars full of water. 

“Is this-is this mistletoe?” He stared down at the basket with wide eyes.

“Yes? Is there a problem? Are you allergic?” You looked back with concern and moved to take it back.

“No, I’m not. I just--isn’t there a tradition where you have kiss someone if you stand under it?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure people still do that. I figured it would make the party fun. Especially if we can get Tae and Yoongi to stand under it. God, can you imagine their faces?” 

You snickered to yourself and went to the kitchen to fill up your jars. You missed the way Jimin stared resolutely at your back before looking back down at the mistletoe.

The rest of the evening passed by quickly after the pizza arrived and you sat at the shining marble kitchen island before finishing the decorations. It would be a pain to take down once the party was over, but you’d be riding on the high of compliments and eggnog. Jimin called you a cab and you were too tired to protest and only mumbled about taking the subway home once.

The next morning you were up at ass crack of dawn and packed your overnight bag before traveling back over to Jimin’s apartment. It was such a tragedy that you lived on the other side of the city, otherwise you could walk and let the morning air wake you slowly and get some light exercise. Instead you were trying not to nod off sandwiched between two old women gabbing about their sons and their chubby new grandchildren.

You banged on his door and were greeted by the sight of Jimin’s puffy face. He was ever the gentleman and took your bag even in his sleepy stupor while you rinsed your face with cold water in the bathroom before going into the kitchen to get to work. Crafting enough bite sized snacks, as well as several cakes and pies, and a few alcoholic beverages to last 20-30 drunk adults was quite the task. But this was your 4th year going through the process, and you’d managed to do it every time with a more machine-like demeanor each year. 

It still left you drained, though. You finished prepping everything that would have to bake before the party around mid afternoon and dragged yourself to the couch to sleep off some of your pre-party jitters with what was supposed to be a 40 minute timer. Jimin had to wake up 2 and half hours later, but thanks to your impeccable scheduling, you had enough to time throw everything in the oven and shower before the first guests started to text that they were on their way. 

You fidgeted in the living room as Yoongi hooked up his equipment to Jimin’s fancy hidden speakers. The wait was always what killed you, even after all these years. You were itching to gauge people’s reactions and have busy hands once more. If you were being honest, the kitchen was the least stressful place to be, even though it was constant running around. It was better than waiting for something to go wrong in the living room while everyone else got drunk on eggnog.

When Jimin finally emerged from his bedroom to stand by you, you felt a bit more at ease. His presence was always comforting, and he was always supportive. 

“You look nice,” he whispered so Yoongi wouldn’t roll his eyes from his little DJ booth in the corner. You glanced down at your forest green sweater and dark trousers.

“Thanks, I guess. I don’t look as good as you, though.” In your mind, it was the truth. Jimin looked princely with his tousled black hair and the red of his own Christmas sweater playing up the peachiness of his skin. You chewed at the skin of your lip as you admired how well his light wash jeans fit him.

“Hey, before everyone gets here I really want to tell you--” The sound of a handful of guests outside the door grabbed your attention and you rushed to greet them.

Yoongi snorted from across the room.

Jimin spent the next few hours juggling playing host while trying to get your attention, and you spent the next few hours running in and out of the kitchen while promising Jimin you would talk to him “when things died down”, but they never did.

Your hands burned as you carried yet another piping hot plate of mini quiches out to the main room. The pain was worth seeing how good a time everyone was having. The whole apartment looked and smell amazing with the dim lighting and the smell of sugar cookies doing their time in the oven.

Setting the plate down on the already full table in the dining room, you swiped a quiche for yourself before turning on your heel to tell Yoongi not to lean too heavily on the playlist and that this was the 3rd time you’d heard Mariah Carey’s voice ooze through the speakers in 2 hours. 

“There you are. D’you have a second? I’ve been looking all over for you,” Jimin grinned and grabbed your hand before spinning you away from defenseless little Yoongi. 

“I’m sorry I keep dodging you but I still haven’t finished baking everything yet. You know I like to get everything out before mingling.” You broke his hold with an apologetic look and attempted to back away.

“I don’t think anyone will mind if you stop baking for a few minutes. I feel awful being out here on my own. People keep telling me I did a great job, but I didn’t do anything.”

“This is your place. That counts for something. If you feel that bad about it, just tell everybody that you helped me with decorating yesterday. It’s the truth. Plus,” you trailed off, “I don’t think Momo really minds what you tell her. She’s been hanging on your every word since she got here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I really don’t have time to say hi to everyone just yet. The cookies will be out any second.”

“Okay, you don’t have to go out an enjoy your party, like a weirdo. But just come with me for a second,” he pleaded and began to tug you towards the same corner in the living room for the umpteenth time that night.

“Jimin, come on. You’re a big boy, you can handle things without me.” With that, you retreated to the kitchen once more.

Jimin sighed and turned to the party to make sure Yoongi hadn’t watched him fail to get your attention once again. However, the way Taehyung was leaning over the turntable to giggle to Yoongi while wearing an atrocious headband with sprigs of--

“Tae, can I borrow that?”

You hummed to yourself as you swapped the cookies for the last batch of cinnamon rolls for their spot in the oven. Donning an apron, you got to work on the small load of dirtied dishes in the sink so that you wouldn’t soak your good sweater. The volume of your playlist rose and fell, signaling that someone had opened the door to the kitchen before closing it again.

“What is it now, Jimin? I’m almost done.” You turned to gesture at the diminishing pile of dishes but stopped when you saw him wearing a headband that dangled a branch over and in front of his face. “You look like an anglerfish.”

“I’d better be a handsome one, at least.” He flashed an easy grin at you and you swallowed roughly before turning back to your dishes.

“What happens if I say you just look like an 8-year-old?”

Your question never received an answer. Jimin stepped up next to you and silently dried the dishes you handed him after scrubbing them clean. It was a nice moment of companionable silence and you couldn’t help but feel grateful once more.

“Thanks again,” you looked up at him and realized he was very close and you suddenly felt very small.

“For what?” He let his hand rest at the center of your back lightly, knowing it would help relieve some of the tension he could practically feel you holding there. 

“For letting me play house.”

He leaned in slowly, eyes soft with something you’d definitely seen before. Mainly during the nights you walked around the city together after too much wine. The branch swung and tapped you on the forehead, somehow not ruining whatever moment you were having.

“Is that a fake piece of mistletoe on your head?” You sounded less incredulous and more breathless than you wanted and hoped he didn’t pick up on it, but knowing Jimin meant he heard it.

“I got it from Taehyung,” he said simply before resting his forehead on yours. Your eyes closed immediately, and if it wasn’t for the way he gently raised his chin to better slot his mouth to yours, you could have stood there forever.

Later on, you would look back at this moment with embarrassment. The moment Jimin’s lips touched yours, you yanked him in closer to you with two handfuls of his pretty red sweater, desperate to always have him closer than before. He smelled good and his lips were soft, two things you just knew would be true if you ever kissed him. You realized dimly that you never wondered where he put his hands because you were startled when both hands wrapped around your hips to play with the belt loops of your pants.

The oven beeped and pulled you apart. He gingerly removed the hand you had still tangled in his sweater and went to remove whatever the cinnamon buns. 

“I think it’s time you came out and enjoyed the party.”

“Of course you say that when I finish all my work.”

“I have good timing,” he said, taking your hand and leading the way out of the kitchen. 

He planted a kiss on the hand wrapped around his own and looked around the room for Yoongi, knowing Taehyung would be nearby trying his hardest to get Yoongi to smile. Jimin figured taking the headband may have slowed down Taehyung’s chances, but a quick glance back to the booth showed Taehyung clearly didn’t need the mistletoe. He had made it behind Yoongi’s DJ booth and was now leaning in the shorter man’s space with a honey-dripping gaze.

“Do you think we looked just clueless as they always do when they’re with each other?” 

“Oh, definitely,” you said over a mouthful of cherry pie. Jimin ducked his head bashfully and you brought the fork up to him so he could take a bite too. You stood in silence again, watching the party with a sense of pride.

“This is definitely the best of the parties you’ve thrown yet,” he said after a while, and slung an arm around your shoulders because he could.