#your brother is alive and back home again and youre so unbelievably glad

[pkmoth]

having swap au thoughts. *slaps roof of claus* there's so much mental illness in this guy. im gonna blow up everyone in the room and then myself

[merryfortune]

Blue since the day we parted

Written for 100ships on Dreamwidth

Prompt: #13 Blue

Ship: Ai/Shoichi/Yusaku

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Word Count: 1,745

Rating: T

Warnings: Choose Not to Warn

Tags: Canon Compliant, Angst with a Happy Ending, Missing Scene Fic

   A tear glistened in the corner of Playmaker’s eye as he reached out into that cloudy, blue sky and touched Ai, plucking him from the digital space.

   Ai convulsed inside his hand. Just an eyeball. Reconstructed, refigured, recantered and then he remembered. Playmaker’s heart lurched with worry as he cradled Ai, standing into the wind and letting it roll off him as he waited for Ai to say something. To do something. Anything. And then a tear to match the ones dripping slowly down the side of Playmaker’s face welled up on the rubber duct of Ai’s entire eyeball.

   “Yusaku…?” he murmured. “Yusaku! Yusaku! My Yusaku!”

   “Y-Yeah, it's me, Ai.” Playmaker beamed and Ai was happy that such a wide smile would be his first memory in this refreshed, new world.

   “I thought… I thought I was a goner.” Ai mumbled, grateful to be alive but grim in his certainty that he was very much not so supposed to be alive.

   “You know me,” Playmaker shrugged, “once I decide something, it becomes my purpose. Be it for three months or ten years, I just get absorbed in that one singular desire. Looking for you, piecing you back together, that was my one desire this time.”

   “And I bet it was just as destructive for you than if was just plain ol’ revenge.” Ai replied.

   Playmaker didn’t have a verbal response to that but the guilty look on his face spoke volumes. Ai nodded in his hands, moving himself up and down against Playmaker’s palms.

   “I thought as much.” Ai mumbled. “You never really change and yet…?”

   It, too, was written all over Playmaker’s face just as much as the guilt of having pushed aside so many of his connections just so he could reconnect to this one. Playmaker found it worth it though. Unbelievably worth it. He kept smiling, even if his initial grin had shrunken in on itself and steeped with guilt.

   “I can’t help it, your right,” Playmaker replied, murmuring, “Ai means to love people but I feel like I can only do it when I have…”

   “Ai?” Ai piped up hopefully.

   “Yeah, exactly.” Playmaker told him.

   “Oh, you incorrigible…!” Ai complained and he seemed rather cranky in Playmaker’s hands now, frowning and pouting but then he let up on it. “I love you, too. Thank you for bringing me back, for having hope.”

   “My pleasure.” Playmaker replied.

   “So, what now?” asked Ai. “Am I going to be stuck like this forever? My handsome visages? Gone, perished, truly a fate worse than death.”

   “I’ve got that all figured out,” Playmaker assured Ai, “So let’s log-out.” He shifted slightly and an admittance followed, “There’s someone else I really want back now, though, as well. Its kind of co-linked to getting your body back, too.”

   Ai had a sneaking suspicion that he knew what that meant so he perked up immediately, “Let’s get to it then, Playmaker! Seize the wind, already!”

   Playmaker laughed and it was such a lovely sound to Ai. It was unrehearsed and croaky but it was laughter nonetheless. They logged out together shortly afterwards. A cavalcade of pale blue data turning into sparkling shards of data before disappearing entirely.

   When they resurfaced, the location was not where Ai expected. He was still in the palm of Yusaku’s hands as he ventured out of a dark niche where his Link VRAINS rig was set up. It was familiar but it wasn’t home - or at least Yusaku’s apartment, even if it had never really felt like home until the end, when it was more about the emotions imbued in the walls than the walls themselves.

   Looking around, the first thing Ai saw, through the guards of Yusaku’s fingers, was the ocean. It was about midday, early afternoon, and the ocean was sparkling. It was a rich azure through the silver railing and the framing of the huge doorway into this building that Yusaku had made his next hovel. Ai realised where they were; they were at the site of their final showdown, if not a warehouse or two either.

   Ai wriggled in Yusaku’s hands so he could look up to him, “What happened to the apartment?” he asked. “Wh-Where’s Roboppy’s shell?”

   “Somewhere safe, don’t worry,” Yusaku replied and then he shrugged, his gaze grew distant, “I’m not sure what happened to the apartment. Landlord never tried to contact me when I bailed, I left behind whatever I couldn’t bring with me so I could stay here. It was easier than trying to move all your stockpiles there. Mightn’t be the most luxurious of places but its quiet here.”

   “Yeah, nothing more soothing than the sounds of construction.” Ai complained because he knew, for one, that he could hear the sound of jackhammers somewhere along the industrial pier.

   “Okay, serene.” Yusaku corrected himself.

   “But if there’s people around… how are you…?” Ai’s voice trailed off.

   “It’s not easy but I’ve managed alright to hide out undetected. I think the workers enjoy having a ghost around. So long as it doesn’t touch anything important, they don’t care if some electricity is pilfered.” Yusaku said but he brightened up, returned his gaze to Ai. “But now that we’re together again, let’s try and find somewhere really nice to live, yeah?”

   “Yeah.” Ai excitedly replied.

   “So let’s get you into your not-meat suit.” Yusaku said. “I don’t have all the means to give you back your Ignis body but take your pick of SOLtiS bodies.”

   Yusaku drifted through the vast, freezing warehouse like it was his home, showing Ai to one of the many stashes of cold, lifeless bodies that belonged to them. As eerie as it was to have so many empty SOLtiS androids around, Ai jumped into one enthusiastically. He wormed and wriggled his way into their shell and the eyeball became a beating heart. Yusaku watched, breathless, as a dressed and ready Ai appeared before him in the form of his dashing persona as a human.

   Whilst Ai may have been groggy and vague at first upon revival, he was really in the swing of things now as he popped up on his two legs like he was born to walk. Yusaku smiled gently whilst Ai stretched out all his nuts and bolts, making sure his limbs hadn’t rusted and got as close to limber as a robot could be and at the very end, made a very satisfied sigh.

   “Alright, what’s next?” Ai asked.

   “I think you know,” Yusaku said and though his heart thudded in his chest, a beg not to, he reached out to take Ai’s hand, “let’s go.”

   “Of course, partner.” Ai replied affectionately.

   Their fingers intertwined and linked together and then they were off with the wind. Not forever, obviously, Yusaku wanted to circle back later to grab Roboppy and a few other things that would be difficult to replace retroactively but for now, he and Ai were really putting the blues of the warehouse behind them both. And they both knew where they were headed on the interim, following the winding, concrete paths that allied themselves with the ocean so down below at the base of the steep cliffs here.

   When they arrived where they wanted to go, they still arrived looking like they ought to be dead. A corpse and a ghost: neither sure which was which but it was worth it.

   Cafe Nagi’s van was set up to the side of the Stardust Road. The last of the lunch time rush customers were trickling in and out, a waiter with a fluffy ponytail darting around them, fetching them refreshments and the like who paused to stare, puzzled, as his brother abandoned his post behind the grill.

   Yusaku smiled, tears in his eyes again that turned his smile creaky and all the more sincere, “Hey Kusanagi,” he said as Shoichi rushed towards him and Ai with a disbelieving smile, “I-I’ve missed you.”

   Before Yusaku knew it, he was swept up in a big bear hug from Shoichi. His arms surged around Yusaku’s scrawny frame and were so warm, Yusaku couldn’t have been more thankful for it. He buried his wet face into Shoichi’s chest and wrapped his arms around Shoichi’s waist. He felt so cared for as Shoichi’s hand cradled the back of his head, his fingers in his blue hair - and Ai, Ai was involving himself in this hug one way or another, too. Trying to reach both Yusaku and Shoichi but Shoichi was hogging Yusaku but Ai didn’t mind.

   “Never - and I mean never - do that to me again.” Shoichi growled. He was angry and sad and happy and relieved all at once. All that really broke through the barrage of emotions that he felt was love.

   “I promise.” Yusaku replied. He hugged back tighter. “I absolutely promise, I - I don’t want to be separated from you or Ai ever again, both of you are my precious partners.”

   “I believe you, Yusaku.” Shoichi consoled him. His head shifted to the left slightly, “And I mean it, Ai, I’m glad to see your back as well. I don’t want you running off either.”

   “It’s good to see you again, too, hot dog man.” Ai mumbled very fondly and with something of a tint of sadness. “And trust me,” he added, “there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now with you two.”

   “Same.” Yusaku mumbled.

   “I’m glad,” Shoichi replied softly and though he didn’t want to, he loosened his embrace of Yusaku so he could see his face properly, his cheeks were red and he looked dishevelled, there were bags under his eyes, “Yusaku? Ai?” Shoichi murmured.

   “Yeah?” Yusaku mumbled.

   Shoichi tilted his head to the side slightly, “Do you want to come live with me?” he asked. “Me and Jin?”

   “I’d love to.” Yusaku replied.

   “Me too.” Ai added on.

   Yusaku hugged Shoichi again. He couldn’t wait to move in with Shoichi and together they could get Ai his little Ignis body back too. It was all happening and Yusaku couldn’t be happier. He had been so depressed and angry since Ai died. Everything else became a blur to him. Lifeless, miserable. He didn’t want that anymore or ever again. So, he was determined to never let go of either Ai or Shoichi ever again and then, like an armory, the legendary spear and shield to pierce and protect and their tentacle monster too, they could go forward and progress. Reconnect and co-link. That’s all Yusaku wanted.

[wienerbarnes]

Only Human

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,712

Warnings: mentions to injuries and mission stuff

A/N: bucky channeled his inner Swiss cheese in this one

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

He’s fucked. He’s so fucked.

After taking out the HYDRA agent that just filled him with metal, he crawls over to the shitty metal door and pushes it shut, collapsing against the adjacent wall. He looks down at the six - wait, seven - bullet holes littering his body, oozing with blood, his heartbeat audible through the wounds. His metal hand flexes around his gun while his right hand moves to apply pressure to his side. Not that it’ll help much.

He’s scared. Actually scared. He shakily reaches up to his ear to tap into his comm only to find his ear empty. His eyes glaze over the room, looking for the little piece of plastic that belongs in his ear, but doesn’t see it. He can’t call Sam, can’t call Sharon, can’t call you. Not that he’d call you, he knows there’s no way you’d recover from finding his dead body. Of course he’d pick your first mission in the field to get shot and die. You’re gonna be pissed.

He’s sweating. A lot. They’re in Baghdad. In the Summer. And he attributes his profuse sweating to those facts instead of his body’s attempt to fight to stay alive.

He hears footsteps outside the door. He shuts his eyes, sighs, and raises his gun and aims at the closed door, prepared to go down shooting. Well, he’s already down, but -

The door is kicked open and Bucky points his gun, only to be faced with a barrel identical to his - it’s you. Relieved, he lowers his gun and closes his eyes for a moment again. He sighs loudly. So tired. You shut the door behind you, “Bucky, what are you -” You gasp.

His breathes are coming out sounding like gasps, too, and his heart breaks looking at you. He’s never seen such horror in your face. She’s probably looking at her worst nightmare right now.

He places his gun next to him on the floor, “Help me.” He tells you, but you're frozen, that panic-stricken look stuck on your face.

“Help me!” He yells at you, voice echoing in the room, followed by a groan.

You snap out of it, place your gun back in your holster, and crouch down to Bucky’s level. There’s a lot of blood. It’s not stopping, no matter how hard you push, no matter how many extra handkerchiefs you use. You’re crying, but you don’t dare make a sound.

Bucky’s bleeding a lot. You glance over your shoulder to see a dead agent on the floor. You push down harder on Bucky’s torso, trying to apply as much pressure as possible to the holes in his body. That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Apply pressure? Should you be doing something else?

“I need to tell you something.”

“You better not give no dying wish bullshit.” You snarl, or try to, your voice just comes out sad and scared.

“Just listen -” Let me tell you I love you.

“No! Whatever you want me to do or whatever you want to tell me, you’ll tell me when we get home! You’re not fucking dying, Bucky.” You yell at him. “Where the fuck is Sam…”

He wants to tell you, he wants to argue, but he doesn’t have the energy. He’s so tired. He’s so weak. And it’s breaking him down even more seeing you sob, struggling to contain his blood. He feels nauseous and he gags before spitting up, his blood landing on your hands; your hands already covered in his blood.

You let out a huff, coughing up blood is not good. You wipe the blood from his chin, though it doesn’t do much to clean him up. He’s so fucking dizzy. He can’t tell if his eyes are closing or if his vision is just going out; they alway say your sight goes first when you’re dying.

He feels as though he hears the door open again, footsteps crowding him. But he also hears your voice, singing in the shower in the early hours of the morning. He hears his mother’s laugh. He hears Steve’s sniffles as he wipes the dirt from his face. He hears his childhood dog barking, and Alpine meowing.

His eyes close, and imagines your face as he drifts off, not you crying and covered in blood, but you smiling bright at him, with stars in your eyes.

…

Except he doesn’t.

He hears beeps and he’s angry. Angry because his side hurts and angry because he fucking hates hospitals.

Eyes blink through the crust gathered in the corners and the room he’s in is dim. It’s nighttime. He looks around, unbelievably groggy, but recognizes the room as the MedBay in the tower. He eyes slowly inch over the room until they land on your body, folded like a pretzel in the small chair next to his bed.

He’s confused because he remembers it being daytime when they were on the mission, but you’re still in your tactical gear; hell, you still have his blood all over your arms and clothes.

You’re asleep, and you look like you have been for a while. He sighs, thinking about the trauma he’s put you through; seeing your boyfriend - well, not boyfriend; whatever, he’s not getting into that now - bleed out before your eyes in the same facility ran by the organization that tortured you both.

“And he lives.” A quiet voice sounds in the room, and Bucky turns to find Sam.

He’s in pajamas, so it makes him rethink what time it is.

Sam reaches his bed and holds out his hand, and Bucky grabs it, holding it with both of his hands and bringing their interlocked hands to his chest. A silent conversation between best friends; between brothers. A conversation of thanks, of fear, of I’m glad you’re okay.

“Get me outta here, man.” Bucky whispers to him after a moment.

Sam takes his hand back with a laugh, “Can’t break you out just yet, man.”

Bucky gives him a weak smile. “How long has she been here?”

“Since we got back.” Bucky stares, because he doesn’t know how long that’s been.

“Two days.”

“I’ve been here for two days?!”

“You almost died, man. You were out on the jet and you… you flatlined a couple of times here, too, during surgery.”

Bucky looks away. He knew he was in bad shape, but he thinks that’s the worst he’s ever been.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. let me know you’re awake, but it’s, like, 3 A.M., so,” So it’s not late, just early.

“Go to sleep.” Bucky tells him.

Sam leaves the room and he glances at you, still asleep in that chair. He uses all of his body strength to push himself a little higher on the bed, a strained groan escaping him, but he gets close enough to tug at your sock-clad foot with his index and middle finger.

Your foot kicks out and you wake up with a small gasp. You blink a few times to orient yourself a bit, before realizing who woke you, and you jump up and climb on the bed with him. You ignore his moans and hug him tight around the neck, avoiding his side and torso as best you can.

You mumble his name a few times before pulling back and smashing your lips against his. You kiss him over and over and over again, switching between his lips and the sides of his mouth and his cheeks and his forehead and his nose.

“Baby - Sweetheart - Honey -” He tries every pet name in the book before just grabbing your hands from the sides of his face and getting you to look at him. He’s in pain from being shot up, but smiles, because he’s so happy to be looking at your face right now.

“How long have you been here?”

Your smile drops a bit at his question, not what you were expecting.

“Since you got here, babe.” You tell him, and Bucky can’t help the twitch in his lips at the sound of your own pet name.

“Can you do something for me, sweetheart?”

“Anything.”

“Go shower.”

“Bucky! Are you trying to tell me I smell?” You whisper.

You’re quite a sight for him right now. Body covered in thick, tactical leather, vest unbuckled but still hanging on your shoulders, all of your clothes, forearms, and hands covered in a dark red; his dried blood. There’s even splatter across your neck and face, swipes where you possibly tried to wipe tears or sweat but ended up smearing his blood instead. Your eyes are wide, looking at him as though he just offended you to the highest degree by suggesting you take a shower.  

“Yes. Go shower, get all the sweat and blood off of you. I want to see the brightest, most colorful pajama set when you come back.”

A pause, “Come back? You don’t want me to leave you for the night?” You ask, a bit of insecurity showing through.

“After you shower, I want you to come back here so I can hold you as tightly as I can, for as long as I can. Don’t sleep well without you anyway.” Bucky reassures her, and she smiles at him, before plopping one last kiss on his mouth before leaving the MedBay.

Twenty minutes later, you’re snuggled up next to Bucky, on his good side, with bright blue blankets covering your bodies.

Bucky tells you everything he was thinking, how scared he was, how he really thought he was dying. You tell him how scared you were, watching from outside the surgery room, watching him die and come back to life, but how relieved you felt seeing him stabilize and surviving.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm.” Bucky hums, trailing his metal fingers up and down your arm.

“You were going to tell me something, back in that room, but I didn’t let you. What was it?”

I love you. I was going to tell you that I love you; that I adore you. That I have this infatuation with you, and that I’d do anything for you, at any given moment. That I love you and I’m in love with you, all of you, inside and out.

“I don’t remember.”

[astraeagreengrass]

exile [the woods part 1]

When you wake up in the floor of your apartment, you have no idea of how much the world has changed

Word Count: 2.708

Warnings: angst, mentions of death and death-related themes, PTSD, brief allusion to a panic attack.

A/N: A month ago, Taylor Swift released her eight studio album folklore and, unsurprisingly, it took over my life. The stories Taylor beautifully narrates in her songs inspired me to write something of my own: the woods is a four-part, post-Endgame story, with some slight changes to the canon, featuring Steve Rogers. Updates will be every Friday. Thank you to @xbuchananbarnes for proof-reading this and @thegetawaywriter for encouraging me to write. The banner picture was found here. Dividers are from @writeyourmindaway. Here is exile. I hope you like it ♡

i think i've seen this film before and i didn't like the ending you're not my homeland anymore so what am i defending now? you were my town, now i'm in exile, seein' you out i think i've seen this film before so i'm leavin' out the side door

Being pieced back together was like a hangover.

Like drinking too much wine one evening and then waking up on a foreign bed, not knowing how you got there. It was a pounding headache, a churning stomach, a dry throat. The back of your teeth were sensitive and the sound of sirens rung too loudly on your ears.

In the aftermath of your intoxication, the city is deafening.

You groaned at the light - you must’ve been so wasted if you’d forgotten the blinds. Every breath took a toll of your lungs, stretching your muscles beyond their strength, creaking your joints as you exhaled.

Someone gasped, startling you.

The familiar floorboards of your apartment greeted you when your eyes opened. Timeworn almond timber, the New York staple. Craning your neck, you saw a foot. Shit. You weren't one to bring one night stands home, or actually have them in the first place. Little ol' you was a little too square, a little too cautious, struggling to keep her trust issues from spilling out of her hands. Definitely not the best candidate for loose-stringed affairs, but your grandma always told you there was a first time for everything.

The foot’s owner nudged you, and you groaned again.

“Miss?” they said. “Are you alive?”

I don’t know.

Your gaze focused and you noticed the person was a boy of eleven or twelve, with a beautiful dark mop of curls and soft brown eyes. What the...

“Who are you?” you managed to croak. There was an ashy taste in your mouth, as if you’d swallowed dust.

The boy looked up and across, and you noticed that, on your left side, his father was crouching beside your body. He looked just like the kid, except a couple of decades older, so you assumed he was the father.

“My name is Cal,” the man said, spacely, as if he’d might frighten you if he spoke normally. “This is my son Daniel. We’re not going to hurt you.”

"Nice to know the invaders won't hurt me," you tried to say, but it came out a jumbled, messy current of words, like a baby first learning to communicate.

"Invaders?" the boy exclaimed, insulted. "We live here!"

"Daniel!" his father chided. "Miss, what is the last thing you remember?"

You pressed a palm to the ground, trying to lay your weight on it so you could stand up. You weren't about to answer an unknown man's questions while laying face-down on your own apartment floor. You might be hungover, but you had more dignity than that. When your body crumpled like a twig under a boot, Cal held you up, helping you to a seating position facing the window.

Craning your neck to shield your eyes from the sun, you noticed it.

Golden brown leaves.

Golden brown leaves that shouldn't exist in May.

You clearly remember opening the windows yesterday to green, lively foliage. New York was many things - loud, chaotic, more often than not dangerous - but it’s seasons were consistent, enduring. Through the tempests and disturbances, nature persevered in her year-long cycle, living and dying and living again.

These particular leaves belonged to October, perhaps even early November, never May.

Something was terribly wrong.

“What day is it?” you whispered, wide eyes going from the window to the man aiding you.

Cal grimaced. His boy was suddenly very quiet.

When you were a child, you used to have nightmares: a ghost in the attic, a wolf haunting the woods outside your house, an IED blowing up your father's convoy in Iraq. They'd trap your consciousness, suffocating your mind with fear and panic, and no night light or teddy bear could stifle the onslaught of relentless screams that rattled the walls and hallways of your childhood home, until your frantic grandmother shook you awake. The reality that greeted you on the floor of your apartment was that Twilight Zone all over again.

“Please,” you pleaded, perhaps to the man, perhaps to yourself.

Cal sighed.

“Today is October 17th, 2023,” he said and you learned that the only thing scarier than a nightmare is life itself. “You’ve been dead for the past five years.”

“We could go to the house in the woods,” you mumbled to the warmth of Steve’s chest.

He tightened his hold around your body, pressing a feather-light kiss to the crown of your head.

“Whatever you want,” he said. “You’ve got me for the weekend.”

“The whole weekend?” you smiled at him, finding the reassurance you needed in his indigo gaze.

Steve kissed you again, a fierce press of lips this time. Mouths and tongues and teeth intertwined, your hand finding hip, his hand finding you thigh.

“The whole weekend,” he breathed in the shell of your ear, right before the two of you became nothing more than a mess of pillows and sheets, drowning in love and want and lust. “And then forever.”

When the world ended, several hospital units closed down due to lack of patients.

When the Avengers managed to reverse the effects of the Snap - no one knew how they did it, but everyone knew it was them because of course it was - the mayor of New York declared the interruption of all kinds of activities in the city in order to help those returning. It was in a campaign hospital in Bryant Park that Steve Rogers found you, sitting up cross-legged and wrapped up in a grey blanket, having your temperature checked by one of the volunteers.

Wearing dark clothes and a cap, Steve was nothing more than a shadow behind the woman's shoulder. A lesser-trained gaze would glide past his figure in a quarter of a second, but not you. Never you. You'd recognize him in a sea of people, as if the blood that sustained you and the bones that built you knew exactly where to find him.

Steve had the decency to wait until the woman was done to approach you. With slow, clearly measured steps, he came closer, taking a seat at the foot of your stretcher. If he reached out his arm, he'd touch you, but he refrained and you were glad he did. In your mind, you saw him days ago, but reality told you differently. The calendar at the nurse's station, the newspaper you got a hold on, the constant broadcast of news: all of them mocked you, tormented you. Five years had gone by - more time than you’d ever had with the man across from you. And if there was ever any lingering doubt in your mind that this was some elaborate trick to fool you, they faded when you noticed the modest signs of aging that nothing but time and grief could inflict on a Super Soldier.

Again, a lesser-trained gaze probably wouldn’t catch them, but that would never be you when it came to Steve Rogers.

The two of you stayed in silence for minutes, watching a CNN report of a family reuniting in Idaho. The mother snapped right after the birth of her daughter - now a little girl with ginger pigtails, hugging her legs and kissing her hands. Everyday since you woke up on the floor of your apartment, there'd been thousands of stories such as this: parents finding children, husbands finding wives. The fallen - that's what the press called people like you, the dead that weren't really dead - all had the same lost look in their eyes. You supposed that's what happened when your clock was five years too late.

“What happened?” you finally asked when the broadcast changed to twin brothers reconvening in Hawaii. “What went wrong?”

Steve didn’t look at you, instead he kept pulling at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.

“He was too strong,” he sighed. “And I thought I could fight him without Tony, but…”

You nodded.

“One of the nurses said he was badly wounded in the battle upstate,” you mentioned.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “But he’ll recover. Banner is looking after him. He’s got a kid now, you know? Tony. Her name’s Morgan.”

“Wow,” you smiled genuinely. “That sounds unbelievable and incredible at the same time.

“She’s a good girl,” Steve said. “Keeps Tony on his toes.”

On the TV, the two brothers embraced with a beautiful sunset as background.

“What about Sam and Nat?” you wondered.

Steve's fidgety hands stilled. With the left one he rubbed his mouth and chin until his skin was reddish.

"Sam was like you," he muttered and the implicit words hurt more in his voice than anyone else's. "Natasha… She didn't make it."

She didn't make it.

Natasha Romanoff. Natalia. Your mentor, your friend. The strongest woman you'd ever met. She didn't make it.

"What?" you gasped. "What do you mean 'she didn't make it'? Didn't she come back?"

Like Sam and the mother in Idaho and the twins in Hawaii. Like you.

Steve shook his head.

"It wasn't like that," he said. "She survived the Snap. Spent years trying to find something, anything, even the smallest possibility of getting everyone back and when we finally did… She sacrificed herself so we could have the Soul Stone."

"Sacrificed herself? For a stone?" you were extremely agitated now, the grey blanked falling from your shoulders as you looked at Steve searching for any sign of emotion. "Steven, look at me!"

 His eyes were glazed, a big blue sea threatening to spill over in waves of sadness.

"It wasn't a simple stone, Y/N. I'd rather not explain to you here, people can't know about this," he whispered, looking over his shoulder for anyone that could be listening.

"You mean they can't know why they disappeared and were brought back together like broken toys?" you exclaimed. "Toys that the Avengers can grab and then toss aside however they please? I'm not your toy, Steve!"

You knew you could be cruel. Ruthless. A child yelling ferociously at the top of her lungs until she got what she wanted. An angry teenager. An intelligence officer with obscure morals. But even when he left you without a goodbye, you'd always kept your forked tongue away from Steve Rogers.

Until now.

"Please," Steve pleaded. "Let's go home. I'll explain everything to you when we get there."

"I have no home," you spat. "I had a home three days ago when you came in saying something bad would happen, only to leave me again. Now I have nothing!”

Your tears were hot when they streamed down your face.

“I don't even know myself anymore,” you admitted and somehow that was worse than knowing you were alone in a world you didn't recognize. "All I know is dust. My bones were dust and now they're not. My heart was dust and now it's not. Everyone keeps telling me that I'm safe and that 'it's all over', but what is?"

You gasped, trying to breathe in some tranquility and breathe out some of the agony twisting your insides, but all that came out was a distressing wheeze.

"How do I know that I will not disappear again?" you cried and there was no more Steve, just a curtain of water contorting his figure, like one of those paintings he loved and you never understood the meaning.

The stretcher creaked when Steve pulled you to him, rubbing your arms back as he whispered your name.

"Breathe, Y/N. Breathe."

But you were so scared of breathing. So scared that you'd taste ash again and your lungs would collapse in dust, leaving not a shred of the person you were for people to remember you by. So scared of losing a game you didn't even know you were playing.

"Steve..." You weeped, gripping his shirt tightly.

"I'm here, my love. Just breathe."

You weren't expecting him.

After two years, the hope that kept you up at night waiting for him grew tired, dwindling until it was mere utopia. So you shut the windows, changed the locks and turned off the bedside lamp. Perhaps that's what brought him to your door, you thought. Maybe, wherever he was in the world, he felt your devotion waning, so he returned to haunt you.

You had to admit, though, that of all the ways you imagined Steve Rogers coming back to you, him ringing your doorbell at midnight wasn't one of them.

He looked handsome, with shaggy blonde hair curling at his ears and a beard, and it hurt like a punch to the stomach.

It's hard when the one that hurts the most you looks so unfazed, meanwhile you're just a shell of what you used to be.

"You've lost weight," was the first thing he said, as if he'd left to grab groceries instead of becoming an international criminal.

"What are you doing here?" you replied, ignoring his greeting. If that could even be a greeting.

He sighed, mentioning with his head to the hallway behind you.

“Can I come in?”

You stepped aside, letting him walk through. You didn’t bother turning the key because if anyone really wanted to get to him they wouldn’t be worried about leaving your door in one piece. Steve stood in the middle of the living room, his hands on his waist. An onlooker would never guess that he once belonged there.

“Did you hear about Tony?” He asked when you sat down at the armchair next to the window. The one you bought together in Ikea and Steve insisted he could assemble on his own.

“Yes,” you said. Tony Stark went missing after an alien ship appeared in Midtown. It was exactly the kind of disaster that would bring Steve Rogers to New York. “Have you found him?”

“No,” he replied. “But the same aliens that took Tony attacked Vision in Edinburgh. We managed to stop them from killing him, but he’s badly wounded. When he heard about Tony we flew to the Compound.”

You nodded. It was strange how you could feel so detached from these people- Vision, Wanda, even Tony in a way. They were once your friends, your colleagues. Now they just felt like characters in Steve’s tale - no longer part of your life, only his.

“And why are you here?” you asked.

Why did you come to the home we used to share? you meant to say. Did you miss it? Did you miss me?

He shrugged.

“I thought maybe you could’ve found something on Tony and…”

“If you went to the compound it means you saw Rhodey and Rhodey has most definitely told you that I quit my job when the Avengers split,” you interrupted him. “I have no tech, no machinery, no means whatsoever to find Tony here, nothing that Rhodey has at his disposal Upstate. So why are you really here?”

He was a stranger. Cold and detached, like the house that once trapped him. There was no tenderness in the blue of his eyes.

“Something bad is coming, Y/N,” he said. “I’m not sure what it is yet, but I… I wanted to see you. I wanted to know that you were safe.”

You thought Steve Rogers was done breaking your heart. You thought that when you stopped expecting his return you’d go back to who you were before him, even if you couldn’t find that girl amongst the mess he made of you. You thought you’d be safe from love, and trust and kind soldiers with blue eyes, but you’d never be safe from him - your fellow and your foe.

“Is that all you wanted to say?” you croaked, holding back the tears swimming in your throat with a cough.

Steve fisted his hands, and for a moment you swore that he was stopping himself from holding you. But he just hung his head, tearing his gaze from where you were sitting by the window.

“Just stay home, ok?” he stated. “Try not to leave the house until this situation is resolved.”

Then he turned around and left again.

[frogs-spawn]

Summary:

Harry is cooking dinner when Teddy comes in with some old boxes belonging to his dad. They find an old photograph of their parents and their friends on a camping trip. They discover that one of the people in the photograph is Mary MacDonald, the only one who is still alive. They meet up and she tells Teddy and the Potter family about her lost friends.

Rating: T

Word Count: 6,308

Extract:

“James Sirius Potter, get down from there! I can’t send you to your first day at Hogwarts with a broken leg. Imagine what they’d think of me.” Harry shouted from the French-doors out of the kitchen, overlooking the sprawling garden.

It was early evening in late August, and the sun was still high in the sky, casting a golden haze across the garden, the light reflecting off of the leaves of the trees. In one of these trees, he saw that his son had managed to get halfway up and was alarmingly perched next to a rather thin looking branch.

James simply nodded and instead of climbing down like a sensible person might, he jumped off and landed on the ground with a thud.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I bother,” Harry muttered to himself, walking across the grass and he helped his son up, who remarkably remained unscathed.

He picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder into a fire-mans lift. James started laughing and began to lightly punch his back.

“Let me go!” He giggled, squirming to try and get out of Harry’s grasp. “I don’t want to go inside.”

“Well, you should have thought about that before you decided to fling yourself out of a tree.” He replied, matter-of-factly, and he put James down onto the kitchen counter. “Anyway, dinners nearly ready. Why don’t you make yourself useful and go get your brother and sister for me.” He said and ruffled his hair.

“Ugh, don’t do that.” He grumbled, trying to smooth out his hair, but Harry could still see the grin across his face. He slipped off the counter and ran up the stairs.

“Albie! Lily! Tea’s ready!”

Harry returned to the dinner, stirring the Dhal curry in the pot, letting the aroma fill the kitchen. He really did enjoy cooking, which was just as well, as however much he loved her, Ginny was a terrible cook. He personally found it therapeutic, especially after a long day in the Auror office, he didn’t often admit it, but he was glad he was leaving. He took the job immediately after the war, so he was constantly in the front line. He didn’t mind fighting, especially if it were for a just cause, but as he was getting older, he felt it would be best to have a safer job. Both for his own peace of mind, and as his kids were growing up.

The Defence Against the Dark Arts post had opened up at Hogwarts, and he accepted the role immediately. McGonagall had made arrangements, meaning he would be able to use the floo network to get home every evening, so he didn’t have to stay away from his family. He was also glad to be taking the job because it meant that he would be able to see Neville more often, as he was the Herbology professor. It would be good to see him again, they kept in touch, of course, but he didn’t see him as often as he saw the other people from his school days.

“Wow, that smells lovely,” Ginny said, bringing the Quidditch things out of the garden and placing them by the door. “Apparently, it’s going to rain tonight, so I thought I’d bring these in.”

“Doesn’t look like it.” He said looking out of the window, seeing a perfect blue sky, laced with peachy orange as the sun was beginning to set.

“Well, gotta trust the muggle weather forecast, Dad swears by it.” She laughed, and she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and kissed his neck.

He turned the heat down on the stove and turned around so that he was facing her, he kissed her, deep and slow. She hummed gently and ran her pale fingers through his dark hair, slightly peppered with grey.

“Ugh, get a room.”

He turned around, still holding his wife tight and saw Teddy grinning at them, his hair was turquoise today, and it curled over the front of his head and was getting in his eyes. He had a pile of dusty cardboard boxes precariously balanced in his arms, and he put them down on the kitchen table.

“What have you got there?” He asked, gesturing to the boxes.

“Oh, I was just going through some of Dad’s old stuff, Grandma managed to find the key to his old flat from when he lived in London. Apparently, he lived with Sirius. According to her, there are some photos and things in here that I thought you’d like to see as well, I haven't opened it yet though,” Teddy started stroking the tape on the top box, gently picking at it, but not actually trying to open it. “There’s some stuff here of your mum and dad as well.” He looked up at him.

“Really? Well, we shall definitely go through those after dinner.” Harry said he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face. He hadn’t seen many pictures of his mum and dad, he had the wedding one of course, which sat pride of place on the mantlepiece above the fireplace in the living room, but that was about it.

It was a couple of hours later and the kids were up in bed, despite James’ protests. Harry, Ginny and Teddy were sat around the coffee table in their living room, sat on the unbelievably soft sofa, with a glass of wine in hand (apart from Teddy who wasn’t old enough, much to his disappointment). They heard the rain pelting down outside, knocking against the glass of the windows. The boxes were staring at them on the coffee table, waiting to be opened. Part of him didn’t want to, it felt like pandora's box. It had been thirty-five years since his parents had died, and it felt weird that after so long he was finally going to find something new.

Sensing his discomfort, Ginny held onto his hand and gently ran a thumb over his knuckles.

“Right, let's get this open.” She said, ripping off the tape.

The box opened and as they lifted the flaps, a pile of dust fell onto the table. They looked into it and stared. It was a gold mine of long-forgotten memories of people with the weight of the world on their shoulders.

He reached in and his fingers settled on a photograph of eight teenagers, around seventeen years old sat on a log at the beach behind a crackling fire. On the back in a neat script was: August ‘77.

-the rest is on ao3 :)

[madbucker]

Silhouettes | Daryl Dixon.

Eventual Daryl Dixon x female reader.

IV.

Season 1.

MASTERLIST.

Loosely based on the song We Will Become Silhouettes by The Postal Service.

Summary: Y/N follows Rick to Atlanta. They find a group willing to help them.

Warnings: language, gore stuff (twd style), mentions of death, mentions of domestic abuse. Will add more warnings depending on the chapter’s content. Let me know if you think it needs some other warning!

Word count: 3.6k.

Author’s note: First things first, I’m not a native English speaker, so bear with me! You can send me a message or an ask pointing out some mistakes so I can edit the post. Also, it will help me learn the language, so don’t hesitate! Had this in my drafts for a few days. I hope you like it! ♥

Gif’s not mine.

“Morgan…” You couldn’t find the right words to express how grateful you were. You looked at Morgan and Duane with conflict showing in your eyes: you were happy and hopeful that you were going to find your sister in Atlanta, but you couldn’t ignore the anguish, the heartbreak of leaving them. Every second counted, and waiting a few more days could lower your chances of finding her alive, but those two had saved your life. What if leaving them lowered their chances of making it to safety? Even if you weren’t suited for survival, having someone else around could make a difference.

“Go, this is your chance. We’ll meet again, soon.” Morgan took over as if he knew how much you were feeling at the moment, embracing you not only with his arms but with his words.

Yeah, we’ll meet again, you thought. Your mind softened for a couple of seconds when you felt another set of arms hugging you tight from your side. You had only known them for a couple of weeks, but that was a lot when the world was the way it was. Weeks felt like a lifetime for you, and so it did for the men that had taken you in.

Men, because Duane was far from being a boy. It was sad, he deserved to live the rest of his childhood like you did, or like his father did. He had to, forcefully, become brave, strong, and even cold sometimes.

“We’ll meet again in Atlanta, or somewhere else, I don’t know, but we will.” You said as they let go of you. All you could do after that was forcing yourself to smile reassuringly.

“Now go and help Rick find his family too.”

“You can't leave me here... Not like this. You can't, man. It's not human. Come on, don't do this!”

Merle’s voice was faint as you ran down the stairs with everyone else. Their names were blurry in your head, the adrenaline making you forget about everything but the fact that your life was hanging by a thread.

But Merle, oh, you would never forget his name.

He was the type of person you were afraid to run into, back when you were alone. You were glad Rick was there to put him in his place, even though that hadn’t shut him up. 

Finding other survivors had its downside, you guessed, but not all of it was bad.

They told you that they had a camp, that they had people. The blonde woman’s younger sister was one of them, and they said they had children, too. Maybe it was too good to be true, but since Atlanta was overrun by walkers, then that was the best you had.

Walkers, that’s what they’d named them: because that’s all they did, they were the empty carcasses of what used to be a beautifully complex human being. They just walked, and bit, and killed.

You feared your sister was one of those, roaming around the city. That thought hadn’t left your mind since you first realized how bad things had gotten there. What if she had gone to Atlanta, seeking shelter, but found her death instead? You knew you had to get out of the situation you were in before you made any decisions. The camp didn’t seem like a bad idea, you could stay there temporarily and visit the city a few more times until you found her. Maybe even bring back supplies to thank everyone for letting you stay. That was if you made it, survival was still something new, something you had to train for.

Safety in numbers felt like your best shot. 

You didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings until you got inside the loading dock, your eyes were fixed in what was in front of you. A walker could’ve gotten you from your sides and you wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. You were lucky enough to get to safety.

So was T-Dog, who at last second caught up with you, right before you heard Rick banging on the door.

You sat next to the two women, hugging yourself with your trembling arms. You were agitated and couldn’t catch enough air to say what you knew everyone else wanted to say.

“Hey, T-Dog,” you moaned once you could stabilize your breath, “where’s Merle?” you almost barked the asshole’s name. He looked down to his knees.

“I dropped the damn key,” he growled, angry and ashamed.

“Well, shit.” You whispered, making sure nobody heard. Merle had it coming, that was clear, but T-Dog didn’t have to carry with the guilt of leaving a man to die just because he happened to be… the way he was.

“Best not to dwell on it. Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back... except, maybe, Daryl.” One of the men commented. You lifted your head and locked your eyes with his, your heart starting to beat faster once again. If for some reason Merle had someone who cared for him, then they had to love him. That was a difficult man, the one you had met back there… It must've taken a huge amount of patience and devotion to want him around for more than a few hours.

If he actually had someone who cared for him, you were completely fucked.

“Daryl?” you hesitated to ask, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

“His brother.”

The scenario was so beautiful it was truly unbelievable. You were stepping out of the dock when Rick’s drowned cry caught your attention. Looking forward, you saw a kid running to hug him, followed by a woman. You quickly figured out Rick had found his family, making your heart flutter. In the shithole you were in, you figured those things were a sight to be seen, something that didn’t happen every day, so you let yourself enjoy the view.

You knew Rick’s son was young, even younger than Duane, but seeing him there made you realize how fragile he was.

Innocent, scared, too little to live through those times. And for a second, you forgot that a few hours before you thought you had no purpose left. Not finding your sister, seeing how one of the biggest cities in the country had fallen… you had started to think that there was no use in trying so hard to survive when you had nobody left.

But there he was, Carl, and there were more kids in the camp. Maybe you could do more than just survive. Trying to help them live their lives with as little worry and concern as possible was better than giving up.

“Why on earth did you leave the apartment?!” A loud, high pitched scream echoed through the camp, and it didn’t take long for you to spot her, running to you.

Her. Mayra. Your sister.

When her body slammed into yours, you fell backward as you hugged her tight, trying not to let her go, as if she could slip away from your arms at any moment. You stayed on the ground trying to take in every detail you could. Her shaky breath, the way her hair felt on your skin, how her fingers were uncomfortably pressed between the ground and your shoulder blades. Her small cries as she tried to find the exact words to say.

“I was looking for you!”, at that point, you were sobbing, not even thinking about the people whose eyes wandered from Rick to you two.

“And I was about to go back home looking for you!” She cried, steadying her breath before standing back up. You followed her actions, your sight never leaving hers.

You weren’t sure how long it had been since it all started. Weeks, for sure. Months, too, although sometimes it felt like decades.

Suddenly, her eyes widened and she scanned her surroundings, fear creeping in her. She put both of her hands on your shoulders and lightly shook her head, still searching for something, you couldn’t guess what.

“Did he die?” She questioned firmly. You didn’t answer, had someone else gone to Atlanta that hadn’t made it? Someone who died before you found the group? She couldn’t be talking about… 

The entire world fell on top of you. You had just discovered your sister was alive and had also just found out you left someone she cared about behind. “Did Merle fucking die?!”

The fire warmed your legs and the frog legs tasted so, so good. You hadn’t eaten anything freshly cooked in such a long time, it felt unreal. You were focused on your food and on Rick’s story, it was the first time you heard him talk in-depth about what had happened. He seemed happy, and the bags under his eyes were more subtle. His entire demeanor had changed.

“They found me…” your sister’s voice interrupted your trail of thoughts. You had a conversation pending; one that the both of you decided to ignore so you could enjoy the feeling of being back together, “... the Dixons, I mean. Merle didn’t want me around, Daryl didn’t either, but he was too kind to let it show. Thank God we found the group, like, a couple of days after I joined them.” Her eyes were lost in the flames as she spoke. She knew it hadn’t been your fault, there was no way you would leave him on purpose. “But I was about to die, Y/N. I felt the walker’s teeth on my skin, it tore the fabric on my shoulder. I just accepted it, didn’t fight back, didn’t try to escape.” She looked at you, and you realized that nothing meant shit anymore… life at that moment was constantly being on the verge of dying and knowing that the people you loved could die at any moment, too. Nothing could ever go back to what it used to be. “And, then, a freaking arrow went through the walker’s head. Clean, just like that, and it fell on top of me. I had never seen death in first person, you know. I had lost my friends after a dozen of those creeps came out of nowhere, but I didn’t see them die, I just heard the screams.”

She was your little sister, you hated to hear her that way, so hopeless and surrendering to death. 

“You’re safe now, these people know how to fight-” you stared, but she stopped you before you could finish.

“I know. But one of the men who saved my ass isn’t safe. Yes, he’s not the kindest, nicest, or most selfless man, but I owe him.” You knew that feeling too well. You owed Morgan and Duane, you owed Rick, and Glenn, and so many people. None of them had behaved the way Merle did, but not only Mayra owed him, you did too.

Nodding, you sighed and looked at her in the eyes, reassuring her you would do something to get him back, anything you could.

“Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?” Shane’s loud demand made you jump slightly. Your sister nudged you on your side with her elbow and signaled you to look at Ed. She had been suspicious about him and you both had talked about it a few hours back

“It’s cold, man.”

“Then join us or put it out, we don’t want to be seen…” you spoke, managing to sound as nice as you could. You didn’t want to start anything, but you knew how dangerous it could get. You had to avoid loud sounds and bright lights. But Ed, as expected, ignored you.

“Yeah, the cold doesn’t change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?” Shane continued.

“I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once.” Ed’s answer has was harsh, you could tell he would be hard to deal with, but not everything could be perfect in such a numerous and diverse group. Everyone had different stories to tell, some of them were more tragic than others.

Shane got up and walked steadfastly towards Ed and his family’s fire, “Hey, Ed... Are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?”

“Go on. Pull the damn thing out. Go on!” Ed bossed and his wife pulled the log out of the fire almost immediately, not questioning his husband’s command. It was sad and frustrating, but knowing that stepping in could cause the wife and the little girl to get hurt forced you to stay in your place. Shane seemed to be handling the situation. He was like some sort of leader in the camp, and he had been around those people for so much longer than you, he knew what to do. At least that’s what you told yourself in an attempt to find comfort.

You saw how Shane spoke to Ed’s wife and their daughter, but you couldn’t hear what he said as the group had started a conversation to fill in the silence.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon? He won't be happy to hear his brother was left behind.” The man -whose name you learned was Dale- questioned, deciding to talk about the elephant in the room. 

“I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me.” T-Dog’s shameful tone showed up once again.

“I cuffed him. That makes it mine.” Rick followed. It couldn’t turn into a competition of who was brave enough, who was the most selfless, or who was willing to sacrifice themselves.

“We were all there, it’s not a competition, any of us could’ve done something-” You intervened, hoping you could bring into the conversation the fact that you were planning on going back, but Glenn interrupted you:

“I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” You hated it, but if Daryl was as bigoted as his brother, then Glenn was right.

“I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him.” T-Dog stated, completely convinced of facing the consequences.

“And we keep on making a competition out of this. We all should be there and say whatever we have to say.” You said in a determined tone. You were all responsible, one way or another.

“Look, Y/N… maybe I can tell him?” Mayra whispered as the rest kept on debating who should speak up.

“I don’t know how it could help…” You said back. Yes, Mayra knew him better than you, but she hadn’t been involved, she didn’t have to.

She opened her mouth to protest, but T-Dog’s words captured your interest instantly:

“My point... Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us.”

When the fire was out and everyone got into their tents, including your sister, you still sat on the same log as before. The scenario felt strange, almost unknown to you: outside at night, under the cloudy night sky, and still not unsafe. It had been so long since you felt immortal and undefeatable, just like any other girl your age felt... like nothing could happen to you, not ever. You missed it. But beautiful as that night was, the imminent danger thickened the air.

You felt your eyes growing heavier each second. You were ready to go to sleep, so you got up and started to walk to the tent you and Mayra would share, but the sight of someone on the roof of Dale’s RV made you stop on your tracks.

Shane was keeping watch, and you wondered if he did it each night, or how had they arranged the shifts. He looked tired and the look on his face was anything but friendly.

“Hey, want to switch?” You asked approaching the stairs and climbing up, not waiting for an answer. Once you got off the stairs, your eyes wandered through the trees and landed up in the sky. If he kept watch every night, then you knew why. The view wasn’t mesmerizing, you had seen more beautiful countless times before, but the air up there was lighter, and the breeze, soothing. 

“Sorry ‘bout Ed today.” Shane ignored your question. You sat down next to the chair he was sitting in.

“Don’t be, he’ll pay for what he’s doing to his family someday. Soon, I hope.” You looked up and realized his eyes were lost somewhere in the horizon. He looked tired, and if you read more into it: defeated. “Go to sleep, I’ll stay. I want to.”

It came as a surprise to you: that was all he needed to hear. He didn’t protest, he got up, handed you the shotgun and left. You didn’t know if he would be able to get some sleep, at least he could try to.

But what you did know was that you weren’t suddenly concerned about the sleeping schedule of a man you had just met. You were desperately in need of being alone. Being around so many people was something you had only dreamt about, at least for the last weeks, and although you felt the luckiest you had ever felt, the safety you had found allowed you to put your feet back on the ground.

Everything had happened so fast. You almost died, and more than once. You met people, they saved you, you left one of them to die, you found out Mayra was alive and safe, Rick’s family was with her… and you still had to figure out how to break the news to Merle’s brother. 

You were going back to the city, too, as if everything that had happened wasn’t enough. You’d do it for your sister, and for the men who saved her, as questionable as they were.

And suddenly, it clicked.

The bag. The guns.

You had to remind Rick. It could save the group from an attack from walkers, or from other people. That way you knew somebody else would go back with you and you would actually have a shot of coming back alive, even if they despised Merle.

“Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up.”

You had just finished hanging some of your clothes to dry when an unbothered and loud voice caught everyone’s attention. From their wide eyes, you could tell who had just gotten back. Merle’s brother, Daryl, sounded, moved, and acted just like him. It wasn’t just the accent, but his words, how his presence made everyone uncomfortable… you could tell they were expecting him to snap as soon as he found out. Behind him, Shane and Rick looked and nodded to each other. You approached them, determined to be a part of it even if hell broke loose.

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there.” Rick got to the point with no rambling.

“We locked the door, he’s safe from walkers.” You dared to look at him in the eyes, but regretting it as soon as he opened his mouth.

“Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!”

“Yeah.” Rick stepped in front of you, and without skipping a beat, Daryl attacked Rick, who shoved him off. 

You took a few steps back and spotted your sister, who was just getting out of the RV. Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open as soon as she realized what was happening: Daryl, Shane, T-Dog and Rick were yelling at each other. She stood in her place, everyone in the camp knew well not to intervene. Shane had Daryl on a chokehold as Rick explained to him that he wanted to have a calm discussion, which seemed to force Daryl to give in. Shane let go of him.

“What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.” Rick kept going. At that point, you guessed nothing could actually calm Dixon, he was still breathing heavily.

“It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it.” T-Dog cut in.

“You couldn't pick it up?” Daryl snarled.

“Well, I dropped it in a drain.”

“If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't.” 

“Hey, I told you, the door’s chained with a padlock. There’s no way walkers could get to him.” You repeated, trying your best to be concise and get to the point: Merle was still out there. 

“And who the fuck are you?” Daryl took a few steps forward and stared at you in the eyes. You weren’t scared, but it did take you by surprise. You stumbled back and raised your hands, putting them in between you.

“She’s my sister, Daryl!” Mayra’s shaky voice made him turn around. You couldn’t see his face, but hers was filled with heartbreak. She felt she had failed him, as if she had broken an unspoken promise. Daryl faced you again.

“Funny, huh? How I saved your sister but you left my brother to rot.” He growled. His voice low and irritated.

Your eyes jumped from Mayra to him. You straightened your body and took a deep breath. He was right. You felt miserable, and you couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Mayra, you knew you would have to do something as soon as she told you her story.

“I know, that’s why I’m going back there. With or without you.”

[1917-boys]

Coming Home (Will Schofield Fluff)

Requested: Yes / No

Word count: 1,819

Author’s Note: This is all over the place, I apologize

The sun’s rays warmed your back as you kneeled before the garden in the front of your home. The sky was a pale shade of blue, and the temperature was warm, but not hot. Your flowers were beginning to bloom and the nature around your home was beautiful. The only downside was that your husband, Will, wasn’t here to bask in the beauty alongside you.

When Will had returned from town, hand clutching a draft card, you were struck with worry. The townspeople had been calling this war the Great War, and you had heard why. The loss of life was ghastly, and now your husband was about to be thrown into the fray.

He had walked briskly up the path to your home, reaching for your hand. After that, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before wrapping you up in his embrace.

You would learn soon enough that his embrace was what you missed the most.

That night at dinner, he had asked your daughters, “You’ve heard about the war at school?” They were both so young, then. Merely 7 and 5, they had no reason for knowing the horrors of the war. They both had nodded, though, unaware that their father was soon to break the unfortunate news to them.

When they heard their father was leaving, countless tears were shed. Not only from your daughters, but from you and Will as well. Nobody wanted to be separated, but the country required it.

All you could do was hope he would come back.

Three years had passed, and the spring of 1918 was in full bloom. You continued to work in the garden, pulling weeds and watering the new blossoms.

Finishing up in the garden, you began the short walk into town to take your daughters home after school. The often-travelled dirt road to town was empty, a sight that used to be unusual, but since the start of the war, had become normal. With all the young men off to fight, everything seemed to be different.

‘Would things ever get back to normal?’ You asked yourself, approaching the town.

The schoolhouse was a beautiful building, built from solid red brick and oak. As the children began to file out the door, you caught sight of your younger daughter. “Mama!” She cried happily, running from the doorway into your arms. You knelt down to greet her, hugging her. “Is Daddy coming home?” She asks excitedly, still in your arms.

You pick your head up to meet her gaze, smiling sadly. “I don’t know yet, darling,” you began, “a lot of things are still uncertain.” Her brows furrowing, she stepped back to look up at you. “My teacher says that the Army is starting to send people home. Her brother is coming home tomorrow, and she said that we need to ask and see if anyone we know is coming home,” she said, happiness slowly draining from her face at your blank expression.

“I didn’t hear that, darling,” you reply. Upset, your daughter sighs before turning to face the schoolhouse entrance, awaiting her older sister’s exit.

A few minutes pass, and your eldest daughter walks out of the schoolhouse. As her eyes fall on you, she walks up to you before smiling and hugging you. “We need to go to the post office, right away!” She says, in place of her usual greeting.

You couldn’t help but give in to them. The girls had been through so much these past years without their father, but they were always strong and carried through.

As the three of you walk to the post office, hand in hand, the young paper delivery boy exits the building. He rushes over to you, gladness painted on his youthful face.

“He’s coming home, Mrs. Schofield!” The boy cries. Spirits flying, you are eager to read the letter stating your husband was coming home. The young boy continues, “I can’t wait to see my father again!” As the realization dawns on you that it isn’t Will that’s coming home, you are once again filled with worry and sorrow.

“That’s fantastic!” You say to the boy, smiling happily for him in spite of yourself.

You only wished that it was you and the girls celebrating like that.

As the paper boy skipped away happily, you turn to your daughters, squeezing their hands. “He’ll come back, I know it,” you murmur to them quietly. Nodding eagerly in response, they pull you along to the front door of the post office.

As you enter, the familiar aroma of paper and ink envelopes you. Inhaling slowly, you relish in the comforting scent before approaching the front desk.

“Good afternoon, Marge. Is there any mail for us?” You inquire to the lady working. Smiling back at you, Marge reaches down to pick up a short stack of mail.

“This one’s from Army Command,” Marge tells you, excitement bubbling within her for you. As she hands the stack over to you, Marge turns to your daughters, waving at them before reaching into a drawer and retrieving a toffee for each of them.

You grin at Marge, thanking her for the candy and the mail. She waves a friendly goodbye to the three of you before returning to her work. Exiting the post office, your daughters look up at you, hope practically seeping through their faces.

“We’ll read it when we get home,” you told them, although you were just as eager as them to read the letter. “How about we race home, then?” Your younger daughter suggests, a smirk playing on her lips. Both you and your other daughter look at her before glancing at each other, each of you grinning.

“Okay. On your mark, get set, go!” You exclaim. The three of you rush home, kicking up dirt as you run. The spring breeze is warm against your face and the grass and flowers you run past are only a blur of color. ‘It’s beautiful,’ you think.

The run to your home was relatively short, but when you arrived back you were all panting. Out of breath, you enter the house and place the mail on the dining room table. Your daughters begin to giggle, their contagious laughter ringing throughout the house. You laugh as well, basking in the time you get to spend with them.

“Come on, then! Let’s read it!” Your younger daughter urges you, grabbing the letter from the table and seating herself. Her sister nods enthusiastically, anticipation clawing at her.

You sit down at the table, and reach for the letter from your daughter’s hand. Opening the letter, your eyes scanned the paper. Reaching the end, you gasp loudly and happily, your hand reaching up to cover your mouth in shock.

A large smile breaks out on your face, a breathless laugh leaving your mouth. “He’s coming home,” you murmured to yourself, looking up to meet the expectant gazes of your daughters. It seemed unreal, but you held in your hand the proof that it was indeed reality.

“He’s coming home,” you repeated, a bit louder. The idea seemed so foreign to you that you couldn’t contain the excitement but also confusion that came with the fantastic news that yes, your husband was alive and was going to come home.

Your daughters pick up on your anxious, yet excited, response and quickly sit up to read the letter themselves. Whooping with joy, they leap from their seats with wild smiles on their faces. “Daddy’s coming home!” They cried together.

After all, this was the moment they had been waiting for, just as much as you.

Two weeks pass, and you walk to the train station, hand in hand with your daughters. Approaching the station, you’re giddy with anticipation. Your daughters’ hands shake in your own, unbelievably eager to see their father.

A scarlet steam engine pulls into the station, and young men gleefully jump from the train onto the platform, rushing to hug their loved ones. Your eyes scan the crowd hopefully, praying for a glimpse of Will’s sandy blond hair. Seeing nothing, you glance down at your daughters, smiling softly. “I’m sure he’s on the next one,” you say to them, hoping that the words were true.

‘He can’t be dead, right?’ You asked yourself.

As the station platform slowly clears, your eyes drift to the sky. The soft, gentle breeze of the morning has picked up its pace. The sky darkens and you smell a whiff of rain.

Leading your daughters to an empty bench, you take a seat between them, breathing in the fresh air. Flowers were planted along edge of the platform, and you could smell their sweet aroma from your seat. You close your eyes, waiting for the next train.

The train that would hopefully carry your husband.

‘Hopefully,’ you thought.

But there’s only one way to find out.

Your daughters stand up to play in the small grass field near the platform as you move to observe the flowers. You kneel to get a good smell of a beautiful daisy, and that’s when you hear it.

It’s faint . . . but it’s a train whistle nonetheless.

“Girls,” you call out to them. Ceasing their game, they rush to you and cling to each leg. The platform had begun to fill up once again, as the next wave of families yearned to see their soldiers return home.

Another train, this time black and gray in color, pulls into the station and soldiers begin to exit the train. You search the crowd until you see a head of ruffled, sandy blond hair. Smiling, you stand up taller to try and get a glimpse of the man’s face. Your excitement rubs off on your daughters, who begin to smile as well.

The sandy blond-haired man approaches your group slowly, unbeknownst to you. As the man steps into your line of sight, you let out a strangled gasp.

Standing before you is Will. He looks tired and hungry and unkempt, but he’s still Will.

You rush forward, throwing your arms around him. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Will buries his head in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. Your daughters hurry forward, each hugging their father around the waist. Will pulls away, his arms still around your waist before he kisses your forehead.

The kiss is gentle, but holds years worth of passion and love. “I missed you all, so much,” Will says, his voice rough with emotion. Kneeling down to face his daughters, he hugs them both before standing again to face you.

“It was horrible, love. Honestly,” he begins, “But knowing that you were waiting here patiently for me to come home means everything to me. If fighting in France is what keeps you safe, know that I’d do it a thousand times over if it means getting to come home and see your bright smile again.”

[writingpaperghost]

Taiga Decides That, Clearly, Mebius Just Has a Big Family Now

Mebius and Taiga have a talk about the bonds of friendship. Taiga doesn't really get it. Later, Taiga and Mebius have a conversation about the bonds of friendship. Taiga understands.

This is labeled as chapter nine of all this in my doc, but I really wanted to write it. For the most part, this can act as a standalone from the rest of this series, since Crew GUYS are only passingly mentioned. Really, if I tweaked it a bit, I could make it entirely separate.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993545

“Alright, Taiga!” Mebius smiled, “You did good. You’re making really good progress.”

Beside him, Taiga nodded, “I’ve been practicing a lot,” He said, sounding happy at Mebius’ praise. As Mebius turned to leave, Taiga remembered something, “Oh, right! Hey, what’s your family like?”

Mebius turned back to face him, confused, “Huh? My family?”

“Well yeah,” Taiga nodded, “Like you’re brother, or the rest of the people who’re living with you now. I heard about ‘em from dad and uncle Ace.”

Warily, Mebius recalled how Taiga never really stopped referring to Ryu as Mebius’ brother. They’d explained to him a couple times that they weren’t related, but for some reason or another, Taiga never stopped. Mebius didn’t mind much, really, and Ryu had seemed to just accept it. While Mebius was certain his friends wouldn’t mind people thinking they were his family - he was pretty sure his neighbors already did - he really didn’t want Taiga to get the wrong idea about things. Especially since he’d probably spread it, though at least now Taro was already aware of Mebius’ friends.

Still, Mebius wasn’t entirely sure the best response to Taiga’s question. If he wasn’t careful, Taiga would really get the wrong idea. At the same time, it was a bit tricky to explain his friends in general, especially because just saying they’re his friends would get far more complicated with further questioning. Yet, the simplest answer was often the best one.

With a smile, Mebius gave his answer, “Taiga, they’re my friends, they’re living with me because we all like to be together,” Well that and when it came down to it, they’d all just shown up suddenly and would need somewhere to stay and Mebius had honestly started feeling a bit lonely at home. (It was a lot more than a bit. He’d often do whatever he could to avoid being at home too much, if only because it was too empty. He didn’t like that much emptiness, it felt too much like he was alone entirely. After Ryu had appeared had brought the first time in a while that Mebius had been excited to go home. It was the first time since he’d left Earth that somewhere really felt like home).

Based on the look Taiga was giving him, it was clear that he didn’t really believe the answer, no matter how true it was. Maybe it was just that Taiga didn’t think that some part of the answer was exactly true. Mebius couldn’t come up with a reason why that would be the case, but there were only so many explanations to Taiga’s expression.

Surprisingly, though, Taiga didn’t say anything, about Mebius’ answer, at least. Instead, he chose to ask, “Well why do you all like to be together?”

“Because we’re all friends and we all care about each other,”

At that, Taiga seemed confused, “You’re all friends…” He repeated, sounding a bit bewildered, “And you all want to be together because you care about each other?”

If Mebius could recall correctly, he never really heard Taiga talk about his friends. Sure, he’d heard him talk about his classmates at school - even that boy that Ace had named (Zen? Zack? Zett? Zett! Mebius had only met him a handful of times at this point). The point was, Mebius had never really heard Taiga ever refer to someone as his friend, and he barely talked about someone in a way that made it sound like they were friends.

Maybe that was why Taiga was having a hard time understanding how Mebius could be so close to people, without them necessarily being his family (They were certainly like his family, if pressed he’d say he’d considered them such, but he was a bit afraid to say it to them, really). Taiga didn’t really have the same sort of connections with others - outside of mainly his family.

“Yeah,” Mebius nods, hoping that the simple response would be enough to answer Taiga’s question.

Still though, Taiga didn’t seem to understand. “You’re friends and you all care about each other…” He mumbled to himself, before looking up at Mebius, “Okay, then.”

It was a bit of a surprise that Taiga didn’t ask more questions. He simply said that and said goodbye, heading home for the day. It took a while for Mebius to realize why Taiga hadn’t continued questioning. He probably didn’t want Mebius to know that he still didn’t understand it. It wasn’t a big deal, really, Mebius wasn’t too concerned, though it did remind him that Taiga didn’t exactly have much in the way of friends.

As it was, Mebius decided that he’d leave any further line of thought on the matter for Taiga to discover on his own, whether through his own experiences or through asking others. The sort of bonds that he had with his friends were certainly unique and unusual, but Taiga didn’t need to know that part. Certainly, one day, Taiga would learn to understand what Mebius had been telling him.

---

“Mebius!” Recognizing the voice that called for him, Mebius turns in the direction he heard, seeing Taiga walking up to him. Mebius hadn’t seen Taiga himself for quite a while, had only heard word that he was even still alive after the Tri-Squad’s attempt to fight Tregear. It took a lot to not immediately attempt to hug him, but Mebius was choosing to use every ounce of his self-restraint! He hadn’t been expecting to see him, but then again, Mebius could recall hearing that Taro had returned with Taiga the day before.

Friends. It still made Mebius unbelievably happy that Taiga had good friends now. He could remember when he first met the Tri-Squad. The three weren’t as close as they could be, Mebius could tell, but he knew those things took time. From what he’d heard from when Zero had ran into the three, that seems to have changed.

“Taiga!” Mebius smiled, still restraining himself from wrapping Taiga into a hug. He’d probably gotten enough of that from his family, knowing them. “You’re back! It’s good to see you again.”

Taiga had a smile on his face. It was hard to explain but… Taiga seemed a bit different, now. Mebius knew it was most likely from the time that the Tri-Squad had spent on Earth, their fight against the monsters and Aliens that threatened the planet. Even constantly having to face Tregear. Yet they’d also done something they couldn’t do before. They’d defeated Tregear, so Mebius supposed that he was just seeing how Taiga had grown.

“Yeah,” Taiga responded, “Dad and I got back yesterday… But you know, had to go see grandpa and grandma. Then Uncle Ace…. and then we were all tired....”

“I’m just glad you’re back and you’re okay,” Mebius assured, “It’s been so long since I’ve gotten to see you, after all!”

Taiga seemed to be a bit sheepish. “Yeah well… Uh…” He stumbled, “It’s uh… It’s good to see you again too, I guess…”

It could have been a lot of things. Maybe Taiga was still tired, maybe he was just awkward - surely he knew that everyone had thought he had been dead for twelve years. Maybe Taiga thought that Mebius might scold him. There were a lot of possibilities, but Mebius could tell one thing for sure. It seemed like Taiga was nervous. Either he was worried about something, or there was something he wanted to say.

Deciding that being direct was the best course of action, Mebius noted, “It seems like something’s bothering you,”

At the observation, Taiga’s attention returned fully to Mebius. He started to say something, then stopped, hesitant, before starting again, “I just…” He took a moment before continuing, “Do you remember that one time I asked you about your… Friends? I called them your family, since you lived with them and all, and you told me that they were just your friends.”

Vaguely, Mebius could recall the conversation, though he didn’t remember the exact details. It hadn’t been normal talk for them, but it hadn’t been terribly unusual either. “A bit,” Mebius told him.

“You told me the reason why you were all so close was because you cared about each other,” Taiga continued. Mebius couldn’t recall if he said something exactly like that, but it sounded about right. “Even though I didn’t keep asking, I didn’t really get it, at the time.”

“I kind of figured,” Mebius said, “But I figured you’d understand it sooner or later.”

Taiga tilts his head, then nods. With a laugh, he responds, “I think I get it now,” Between that and his smile, Mebius found himself smiling too.

“Titas and Fuma are my friends,” He said, his voice perhaps the most truly confident that Mebius had heard. It was a belief that Taiga clearly held with his entire being. “And we’re stronger together.”

With Taiga’s assertion, Mebius felt what little self restraint he had left slip away. With a grin, he pulls Taiga into a hug, causing him to yelp. “I hope Brother Taro and everyone have told you how proud of you they are,” He said, “Because they must be so very proud of you. I know I am.”

“Huh?” Taiga didn’t really try to pull himself out of the hug. There was the chance that he was expecting it. “What?”

“You’re not the same person you were when I last saw you, nor are you the same as you were twelve years ago.” Mebius explained, loosening his grip on Taiga, “You’ve grown an awful lot during your time on Earth.”

“I, uh, thanks?”

Mebius finally released Taiga from his hold, “Welcome back, Taiga.”

Despite clearly still being confused, Taiga smiled, “I’m happy to be back.”

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Oh, Sweet Jane... (Favored Ones, Part 31.)

Series description: Many things were surely fucked up in the year 2038, but no-one ever told anyone how all of it went down. What happened before a group of people left for Seattle to handle personal matters? Why did one girl refuse to leave all of it be? And why there were so many dead in the end?

Quote for the chapter: "Take me home - to the place I belong." - John Denver

Part summary: Seattle was seemingly over as you all tried to get back to a normal, day-to-day life again. But some things couldn’t be fixed anymore.

A/N: So... It’s here. This is the time I’m going to say goodbye. 

Warnings: Depiction of torture, bone breaking, depiciton of blood and manslaughter, anxiety, rage, anger

Word count: 3 K

Tagging:   @nemodoren @xxgoldenhour @missdictatorme @davnwillcome @pickleriiick @jodiereedus22 @gladiosamicitias @tamkashi @eternallyvenus @avengerssstuff @fangirl-inthe-us @avery-miller @mikah-writes @mad-hatter-98 @sadiaafrin99 @flavorishy @gabymiller

Series master list: H E R E

Joel Miller’s playlist for the bonfire occasions: H E R E

Youtube playlists: JACKSON DAYS | SEATTLE DAYS

Some time after the Seattle incident, unspecified location:

You knew the others will notice soon. You were gone for quite some time at that point, out of the radar, just you alone in the basement. The only light was coming from the lit-up candles - while you were shying away on an old sofa nearby, smoothing the instrument in your hands. You haven't played in such a long time... Could you still remember how to play guitar? Could you hold the chords, let your other arm play the rhythm? Jesus... It all felt so far away from the place you've been at the moment.

For a second, you smoothed the wood of which was the guitar made of, gently plucking the strings. The first signs of a melody came out effortlessly, having you smile at the sound. With that, you frowned and put your fingers so you could try the basic chords. It could be felt on your wrist that you haven't practiced for a fair amount of time - the bones were on fire when you kept on moving your hand. But the good news were that you still got the grip on playing the guitar. Slowly, you exhaled and prepared yourself to play one of the cheesy country love songs Joel once taught you. When you were sure that you can keep the melody, you started to sing the words - slowly remembering all of the small things about the song Joel had shown you. Your smile grew.

He'd be so happy if he could see you play and sing - if he'd be there. You hadn't done any of that in years, yet when you got out of the bed, you disappeared in the basement and hadn't come out the whole day. Sometimes, all you needed was to be alone. You still could see Abby covered in blood Lev's sobs filled your ears. On those days, you were nowhere to be found for a big portion of the morning - at least until you calmed yourself down. Then, when your head cleared up once again, you were good to do stuff.

Truth be told, you haven't thought about playing the guitar for a long time. Right, you were quite busy the last few years, but how long could it be since Seattle happened..? Four years? Five years? Jesus, you hadn't any idea, to be honest. JJ was such a big boy now... It was quite some time since all that massacring and terror which still haunted you inside. Sometimes, you woke up in the deep night, paralyzed and crying. You'd sweat that at these moments, Abby was kneeling on you, holding a fucking knife to your throat. It was strange for you to still have Seattle and Baldwin all mixed up after all the things that happened in the meanwhile, yet there you were, still seeing each of them in your dreams. Maybe you couldn't name the Hispanic man or the headphones girl, but you still saw their faces.

First months after Seattle were the most crucial. You were waking up alone in the middle of the nightmares that haunted you, panting and crying. Your body was tensing on its own. Sometimes the huge scar on your thigh was hurting. Your heart raced at those moments, your mouth was dry. Countless times, you've ended up on the toilette, puking as you cried. Ellie once came to you after midnight, looking similar to you. There were dark circles under her puffy eyes, she was crying. That night, you both made yourself a cup of coffee, listening to Ecstasy with your eyes closed. Before the shock from the experience passed away, you couldn't sleep for shit. You were sincerely happy when the whole disgust and terror slowly settled down inside of you, letting you sleep for at least six hours in a row. That was all you wanted and needed.

As you thought about Seattle once in a while again, a child's voice made you almost freak out as they spoke. - "I've found you! I heard the music!" - A small, black-haired boy was hugging the railings of the stairs leading to the basement with his small palms as he was crouching there, looking at you. You must've got lost for a minute there - letting your body play and sing while you thought about other stuff. Nervously, you stopped playing and put the guitar away into its cover, making sure it's on its place.

"You sure did found me." - A chuckle came out of you as you blew out the candles, walking the stairs up to the boy. Now the only light was coming out from the opened up door. - "You know this ain't no place for you or your brother, come on." - You mumbled, waiting for him to stand up and walk the stairs up. When you closed the door, you immediately locked it too, pushing the key into your back pocket. - "Are you hungry? Huh?" - You offered the boy your hand, leading him into the kitchen. The kid furrowed and shook its head. - "Not even for a piece of cake? I highly doubt that you had some lunch." - The guilty face of the boy told you everything you needed to know. He hadn't seen a piece of food the whole day, just as you suspected.

"Are you mad at me, mommy?" - His quiet voice asked. For a moment, you smiled unbelievably as you kissed the boy's forehead. Then you smoothed his small cheek and shook your head. Normally, you'd be grumpy about everyone in the household being incapable of having lunch. They've been probably too busy with doing something else; this was pretty normal - once you were off the radar, the boys forgot to eat something.

"We'll call this day a lazy one, how does that sound, buddy? It was a weird one nonetheless." - You asked and kissed the boy's forehead again as you helped him climb on the countertop, which you also normally did only when you were cooking, so both the boys would know how not to starve. - "I didn't know you can play as aunt Ellie can, mommy." - The boy wondered as you pulled the cake out of the oven, putting it next to the boy. You didn't answer him, just smiled into the distance.

You didn't play a lot anymore. If was too reminiscent of the time you've spent in the hellhole and honestly, you didn't have the nerves to keep up with it. - "Will you play something for us?" - Henry persisted on the topic of guitar, not letting you take a breath. With a stiffened smile, you smoothed his hair, but you didn't answer his question - again.

"Hold the fortress, I'll go for the rest, deal?" - You asked silently as you already walked to the terrace, leaving Henry sitting on the countertop next to the cake. Just as you suspected, the rest of the boys was sitting there with their noses stuck in other wooden carvings. For a moment, you watched them before you coughed to make them realize they were being watched the whole time.

"Oh. Hey." - Joel leaned his back into the chair while Aiden, the other twin, just smiled at you and then turned his head back to the animal he was working on. - "We didn't want to interrupt you, so we decided to... Eh... Practice." - The man explained to you - but Henry, the hyperactive kid he was, wasn't able to sit in one place, running away in the middle of... Whatever his piece of wood was meant to represent and finding you inside the basement. Aiden, on the other hand, was able to spend hours sitting down, working on these small figurines. He loved this - this was probably one of the biggest connections Aiden had with his dad. But both your boys were awesome.

It went all downhill when you got back from Seattle. On your way out you buried Jesse and had a small ceremony for the boy. After that, you left the city once and for all. Dina was pregnant and needed medical attention. Tommy, at first, seemed to be cool with how the things played out in the end. Yet soon enough after you arrived back, it became apparent how fucked up that man was. Something, that happened in the city, went hand in hand the last branch of sanity inside Tommy's brain breaking into small pieces. Ellie and Dina decided to leave Jackson for the wellbeing of their family, now living just an hour on the horseback from the city. Yet on top of that, you realized rather soon how fucked up you were - sure, you knew that the pills Maria was giving you won't last until the end of the trip, but being pregnant, that was a whole new thing. Until you came to terms with the news, you were arguing with both Miller brothers, eventually setting down everything with Joel.

But Tommy? Where to start when talking about Tommy? He wasn't able to resolve the inner conflict no matter what. And as could be predicted, he blamed you and Joel for letting Abby go. Sometimes, when he was really in the mood, he tried to play this little pissing contest with Ellie. But as more time passed by, you were glad for what you've done even more than before. Mel and the baby needed someone to look after them - Dina would be fucked up without you just as Mel would be fucked up without them. And to be honest, there were even times when you wondered where are they now. If they're even alive at that point in time. At the same time, you knew you won't even get an answer to that question. Yet Tommy was obsessed with finding her since you were 'an incapable whore who let all of it slip between her fingers'.

That was what he yelled at you last week, the last time he was visiting you. And after that... You hadn't seen him. It was mainly because you walked him out of the house with a shotgun barrel pointing at the back of his head, yeah, but he had left Jackson later the very day on which you had the fight. Why would he stay? He and Maria were arguing all the time, she kicked him out multiple times and he called each of you some nasty names. The man didn't spare any of you - not even his older brother. Tommy didn't have a place in Jackson anymore, so he went after Abby.

Last, you heard about the man that he went to see Ellie that day, trying to get her down for the plan when he didn't succeed with you or at least Joel, but they told him basically the same thing. Now that you found some safe space you wanted to protect at any cost - and on top of that, you all had kids. There was no fucking way in hell you'd change that for a hunt on a person whom you already forgave. And most likely, Ellie felt the same way you did - if she wasn't, Dina was doing a hell of a good job keeping Ellie in one place.

"We'll be having some cake, so get your lovely bottom into the dining hall." - You whispered, reminding your son to clean those nasty hands before getting to the table. But Joel knew you wanted to talk to him before pretending that everything's a-ok again. - "Any news on Tommy? Sightings? Notes? Anything?" - Quietly, you went through the various pieces of art they had on the table, smiling at each one of them. Joel was making another horse as it seemed, while Aiden created something similar to a squirrel, you assumed.

"No, I hadn't heard about him since last week... But listen. He's gonna be 'kay. I know my brother." - The man took his glassed down. The smile on his face was unhappy, strange, and almost painful. There was no wonder about that. - "I'm just sad that I walked him out with a shotgun in my hands. I wish for Tommy just... You know... He could talk to us." - "Don't be crazy, Millers don't work like that." - Joel joked around with you, but it was partially serious as the man kissed your knuckles, sighing deeply.

Once, Joel fucked up the family relationships with his brother. And for more than ten years, it was bugging him off on the back of his head. Slowly, through patience and a lot of awkward moments, they somehow repaired the broken relationship - just like Joel did with Ellie. They now had a relationship which was not based on lies, but on truth. Yet since they started to be brothers again, Joel and Tommy, the man knew it didn't feel like Tommy to just... Drop off the radar just like that, without letting anyone know where he's going. Especially after getting crazier each passing day. Joel hoped that his baby brother can take care of himself. He hoped Tommy's safe.

"Did you hear the news already? About the Fireflies?" - You asked quietly, yawning for a bit. The man knew how crazy your nights could get after Seattle - there was even a time when neither of you could do the whole relationship thing, when you just closed off inside your home, trying to find the balance inside you. So instead of discussing the news, Joel hugged your thighs and smoothed your lower back while his head rested on your belly. - "You've had another one of these dreams, huh?" - Joel asked quietly, humming at the feeling of your fingers between his hair. There was nothing that you could say to Joel. He already heard every single one of them and given they were playing in your head on a constant loop, it was rare to actually have any nightmare. - "Wanna talk 'bout that, girl?" - He asked, but you were already stepping aside so you could feed the hungry small animals you had in your kitchen.

The boys, surprisingly, didn't eat the cake already. While Henry was still sitting on the countertop, Aiden was toying around with the gramophone in the living room. This boy of yours was interested in music and when there was free time, Joel and the boys were working on their own guitars. The old-timer already knew how to make one, since he finished yours in the summer after Seattle happened. Once the boys would get older, he planned on learning them how to play. So it was normal to see the boy toying around with the pieces of vinyl and the gramophone. - "Can I play some music, please?" - The boy asked after some time of pretending that he was reading the names of the songs. - "Of course, play us something." - You agreed while you let Henry slice the cake, making sure that the kid won't cut his fingers.

Just when Joel, dressed up only in a grey t-shirt this time, was about to sit down to the table, Aiden went to tug on his arm, leading him to the gramophone to get some help with the reading. And soon, you realized why. You had this one song you liked probably the most from your collection - it was given to you from Ellie and Dina last Christmas. And it met a lot to Ellie since according to her words, it was the first song she ever kissed someone she loved to.

The girl never talked about Riley that much, but both you and Dina knew that before the Jackson love escapades Ellie went through, there was another girl. And this was their song. Now, she was giving it to you because Dina and she found themselves a new album to listen to. - "Guys, you always know how to make me dance." - You commented with a small smile, hearing the first trumpets of Etta James' song. And to prove the point, you wiggled your bottom to the rhythm from preparing some coffee and tea. This made both the boys giggle. Henry, being as active as always, went to jump off from the countertop and almost killing himself in the process as he followed his brother to dance around the living room. Joel, when he assumed the two small guys were doing okay, stepped behind you and watched your hands preparing the drinks.

"I might never be okay, you know that? But I'm trying for you and these guys." - You asked suddenly, stopping everything you were doing at the moment just to look at him. There were still problems inside your head, as proven earlier that day. It wasn't any kind of PTSD exactly, but yes, the things you've done were about to haunt you. And the older Joel became, the more he seemed to think about the things he had done, and honestly, he was doing all he could for the community.  Yet just as Etta was singing, the man smiled at you, pecking your cheek to see you grin. - "But I got you, babe." - The man answered and for a moment, you leaned your temple to his shoulder while watching the boys dancing around.

And yeah, you had each other no matter what. There were moments when you had disconnected, sure, but you always tried to find the way back. The kids were making you stay in the reality - and when there was something that tried to drag you down, it was them who made you get your shit together rather quickly. People from Jackson liked you in one way or another, it was a safe space for you.

As for what happened to Mel, Abby, Tommy, or Lev... You never got to know. And maybe, it was for the better. Maybe, after all, it was all worth it in the end.

FIN

Author's last notes regarding the story: It was hard to end this one, it was fairly tricky. And I'm not talking about this chapter. I'm talking about the chapters before it. The characters were going through... Not even a rollercoaster of emotions, but through a repeating cycle of knowing that they're doing something very bad, but they needed to prove themselves they're in the right.

To be honest, this reasoning that needed to be done often ended up in kind of a loop that was exhausting for me to write and it mustve been very hard for you to navigate through it. And I realize that. I am so glad that I'm finished with this since the whole story made me feel uneasy at times, especially when I look over at the Seattle chapters. It's ended like this because it gives you an idea of what the characters are up to after the story ends, but it's vague enough to leave you in the dark and to let your imagination work on how you want the story to end.

Thank you for sticking around with me, I will be looking forward to seeing you in another of my fics. Bye.

[enigmawrappedinhypocrisy]

What about an AU where Barley is 19 and Ian is six weeks old, Barley x reader take care of Ian while Laurel is out, they sing him a lullaby together like a little family (it’s such a cute fluffy idea)

So there’s a couple of factors here right? Is their father still alive? Or did he just die? What about Ian and Barley having to take care of their baby half sibling? Or a spell gone awry? 

And I kiinda feel like being Ian’s ‘dad’ figure plays a huge factor in making Barley who he is but I’m gonna ignore that… and I’m gonna go with the nice version where everyone’s fine and happy, cause that’s kinda what I think you wanted...? 

Also … It seems I don’t know much about babies… which is a little concerning I guess… So he might be older in this fic than intended… but we’ll see where this goes… 

❀✦ Master List✦❀

It had only been a few months since Barley became a big brother and he still wasn’t too confident with the whole thing. 

He constantly worried about hurting the little thing.  

When you suggested letting his parents go out for a date night, leaving the baby at home with him, he was nervous. 

He agreed they deserved a night off, but really wasn’t comfortable being home alone with little Ian. You’d promised you’d be only a call away to help him if he needed it, But you assured him he wouldn’t need you. “You’re a wonderful big brother you’ll be okay”  

Barley was okay for, like, 10 minutes after his parents left.

When Ian started to cry and wouldn’t stop Barley quickly called you. “Heeeeellllp!” 

“Barley?! What’s wrong?” you were immediately on edge thinking something terrible had to have happened. 

“He-won’t-stop-crying!!!-I-don’t-know-what-to-do!!!” 

On the other end of the phone you sigh, “Is he wet?” 

“I don’t know?!” You could hear the tears in his voice. 

“Did you check?” 

“You said you would help me!!” 

“Okay, I’ll be right over” You sigh, pulling on shoes. 

You knew he’d be able to handle himself, knew he’d be a good big brother if he just felt confident enough, but it seemed he needed a little safety net.

✨

True to your word you’re at Barley’s house within a few minutes.

Walking in the door you’re greeted with your big strong boyfriend, seated on the couch, holding his baby brother. 

Both of them in tears. 

“Oh Barley,” you sigh with a smile and join him, sitting close. 

You take the baby who seems to settle once in your arms. “Hello Little one, no need to cry” you coo at the adorable baby elf, who giggles up at you in response.  

Barley sniffs, leaning on your shoulder, apparently your presence calmed both Lightfoot boys. “Why’d he stop?” Barley frowns. 

“Maybe he just sensed your nervousness,” you reach one hand up to scratch Barley’s scalp the way he likes, hoping to relax him. 

“That’s not-” Barley pouts, he didn’t mean to be anxious. 

“Relax sweetheart, you’re already a wonderful big brother” you remind him. “This isn’t the first time you’ve taken care of him, you already know what to do,” you smile, feeling him become more calm with your words. 

“Thanks,” he blushes, still not the best at taking compliments. 

You chuckle softly before handing Ian back to his big brother, “Here, you hold him while I find us something to watch,” you turn on the tv, keeping an eye on the boys in your peripheral, they both seem way more relaxed now. 

You figure keeping things normal and casual would help everyone stay calm. 

So you find some quiet movie, and cuddle up to Barley, cooing at the baby from time to time, keeping an eye on both of them. 

They were very sweet together. 

Barley cradles the baby to his chest, while Ian’s tiny baby hands grip the fabric of his brother’s shirt. 

You pretend it’s not the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

The movie plays in the background while you and Barley focus more attention on playing with the baby, tickling him, and having [very serious] conversations with him. 

After a while Ian starts to fuss again, and Barley suggests he might be hungry. 

He stands and moves to the kitchen, placing the baby in his little high chair. 

You follow, watching them. 

It appeared you were correct in assuming all Barley needed was a tiny bit of reassurance; as now he seemed to know what to do, and went about doing it. 

He went about preparing the bottle, as he had done many times before, not noticing the warm look you were giving him as he did so.

His look of concentration checking the temperature was so unbelievably endearing. If you hadn’t loved him already, him playing parent for little Ian sure sealed the deal. 

You’re not ready for kids yet, but are pretty confident you wouldn’t mind some in the future with Barley. 

“What?” Barley questions, a little defensive, having caught you watching him. 

“You’re just so beautiful” you tell him with a loving smile.

“Am not,” he blushes and turns away, but you see the little look of happiness on his face as he tries to hide from you. 

“Are too,” you insist, moving closer to him. 

You lean against his shoulder and kiss his cheek. 

Barley puffs up, pretending to be tough, “Nuh huh” 

Ian coos making baby words. 

“See, he agrees” you nuzzle against Barley. “You’re Beautiful, accept it” 

“Don’t side with her, I'm your brother!” 

Ian giggles, and says some more very serious things in baby language. Barley deflates with a pretend frown, his smile easily showing through it. 

“Fine” he huffs. 

✨

Ian fed, you all spend some time playing.

Making faces, giving stuffed animals funny voices, and generally doing whatever it took to make the baby laugh. 

Your little impromptu ‘puppet show’ is interrupted by a tired baby. Ian begins yawning, and falling asleep where he sat, and it was clearly time to call it a night. 

“I think it’s time for b.e.d.” you tell Barley, who frowns for a second before he remembers you mean the baby, then he grins. 

You shake your head with a chuckle, “Come on,” You pick up Ian and carry him upstairs, Barley following closely behind. 

✨

You get Ian ready for bed, change the baby into the cutest little dragon pajamas, and set him in his crib. 

He only fights you a little

You both kiss him and tell him ‘good night’s before setting his mobile on and dimming the lights.

You and Barley sneak out of the room, and quietly head back downstairs, taking a monitor with you to be safe. 

✨

Cuddled on the couch it doesn’t take long before you can hear a fussy baby on the monitor. 

You give a little half smile to Barley.

It seemed Ian didn’t want to be alone… 

Barley frowns, “Mom usually puts him to sleep…” 

You’re already pulling him off the couch as you ask, “well, what does she do?” 

Barley shrugs, you can feel the worry rising up in him again. “I don’t know…” 

“It’s okay,” you take Barley’s hand assuring him as you quietly come back into Ian’s room. 

The poor thing is clearly fighting sleep, and moments away from another crying fit. When he sees his big brother’s face, however, his eyes light up and he’s looking expectantly at you both. 

“Oh, I remember Mom used to sing this thing to me…” he blushes. 

You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him, “go on, give it a try” you encourage him. 

Barley’s a little embarrassed but trusts you enough not to make fun of him, so he begins singing the soft lullaby. 

It seems to work.

Ian settles down, sucking his thumb, and cuddling a well loved stuffed unicorn. [You suspect might have once belonged to Barley] 

Recognizing the familiar song, you join in singing the lullaby, and soon the baby is fully asleep. 

“Good job, big brother” you nuzzle Barley, watching the little elf sleep soundly. 

He really was an adorable baby… 

Barley doesn’t answer, but you can feel him soaking up your praise. You remind yourself to compliment him more often, as you head back downstairs. 

✨

It isn’t much later when his parents finally come home…

You tell them how wonderful both the boys were and show some pictures you took when Barley wasn’t looking. 

They’re adorable

You say your goodnights, and Barley walks you to your car; he thanks you for helping him. 

“You didn’t really need me,” you assure the sweet elf boy, “but I'm glad I was here.” You pull him into a kiss. “You were so cute with him,” you add.  

He blushes again, “stop...”

“Just accept it” you repeat, kissing him again quickly before getting into your car. “Good night lovie, I’ll see you tomorrow” 

Barley pretends to roll his eyes, but can’t hide the smile, “Good night,” he tells you to text him when you get home and lets you leave after one last little kiss. 

If he didn’t love you before tonight… this sure sealed the deal… 

✨

A/N: um… I think this is bad… like… extra bad… but hopefully it’s just me… once again, sorry for the wait…

[winchester-fantasies]

90 Days - Part Five: Light

90 Days Masterlist

Mini-Series Summary: You’ve been hit by a curse. Now you only have 90 days to live. Sam and Dean race to find a cure while secrets are revealed and feelings are discovered in the process.

Word Count: 2197

Warnings: implied smut, fluff, light angst, mentions of attempted suicide

Pairing: Sam x Female!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for coming with me on this journey! This whole series has been an emotional roller coaster and it ripped my heart out (no pun intended lol) more often than not. It’s bittersweet posting this last part, and I hope you like it as much as I do. ❤❤

Winchester Fantansies’ Masterlist

     “Sam!” you gasped. He sat up with a start, his eyes wide with panic.

     “Sam,” you said again, this time quiet and unbelieving. “How am I not dead?”

     He stared at you for a moment as if not really believing you were actually there. But in the next instant he seemed to come out of his trance. “I...I don’t know,” he stammered, swallowing hard. “I think maybe I should call Dean.”

     You nodded as Sam climbed out of bed, quickly pulling on his jeans and grabbing his cellphone from the table by the bed. He pulled up Dean’s contact and pressed the call button. He glanced over to you before quietly exiting the room. You could just make out his muffled voice as Dean answered and the soft opening and closing of the front door.

     You ran your fingers through your tangled hair and held you head in your hands. You didn’t understand what had happened. Just a few weeks before you’d nearly died just from kissing Sam. But somehow you were still alive after making love to him. You thought you understood this curse and everything it carried, but now you weren’t so sure.

     After what seemed like an eternity Sam finally returned. His face was unreadable as he took up his duffle, stuffing his clothes and the few necessities he’d brought into it. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he said.

     “What?” you asked.

     He stopped what he was doing to turn and look at you. “We need to go back to the bunker,” he repeated. “Dean hasn’t made any headway and was just as surprised as us when...uh...when I told him what happened or what...didn’t.” He looked to the ground for a moment as if embarrassed, your own cheeks flushing pink at his words.

     “He’s going to have both Cas and Rowena come to the bunker, too,” Sam said. 

     You nodded, throwing the blankets off and going over to your duffle sitting by the closet door. You set it on the edge of the bed before gathering the few things you’d taken out. You haphazardly stuffed your clothes into the bag, your mind racing. You finally had to stop, the knot in your stomach too tight to ignore.

     You turned towards Sam just as he zipped up his bag. “Sam,” you said so quietly your voice barely reached your own ears. Sam didn’t seem to hear you as he went over to the table and stuffed his wallet and keys into his pockets.

     “Sam,” you said again, this time louder, your voice coming out choked. He stopped and turned to look at you, his hazel eyes filled with concern.

     “What is it?” he asked, his voice soft.

     “I’m scared,” you whispered. It was ironic. You’d lived with this curse looming over you, the constant fear of death a grim companion. And while you had been frightened, you knew how it ended if Sam and Dean didn’t find a cure. You’d made peace with it. But now that it was gone…. The fear was palpable.

     Sam’s eyes were soft as he walked around the bed, coming to stand in front of you. He drew you into his strong arms, his chin resting on the top of your head. “I am, too,” he admitted softly. “But I promise you,” he said, pulling back to meet your gaze. “As long as you’re with me, nothing is going to happen. We’re going to get to the bottom of this.”

     He leaned down, his lips pressing to yours in a tender kiss. You melted into his embrace, letting his strength and words envelope you in security. He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone when he pulled away. “I love you,” he breathed.

     You smiled, placing a soft kiss to his still bare chest. “I love you, too.”

**********

     You and Sam drove back to the bunker, Sam pushing the speed limit as far as he could. You reached the bunker in record time, only stopping for a few hours at a rest stop so Sam could get a little shut eye before hitting the road once more. You reached the bunker by nightfall the following day.

     You looked up at the giant stone fortress as you stepped out of the vehicle, a sense of calm falling over you. You’d never been so glad to be home as you were at that very moment. 

     You and Sam entered the bunker, the silence welcoming as you walked down the metal stairs to the main floor of the building. You set your duffle down on the map table before making your way to the library, finding Dean at one of the tables, books, manuscripts, and various other documents strewn across the table.

     He looked up from what he was reading on his laptop, his green eyes lighting up when he saw you. His grin was wide as he scooted back from the table, coming over to you and wrapping you in a warm hug. “I’m okay, Dean,” you said, hugging him back tightly. You were surprised to find his eyes were slightly misty once he pulled away, and you noticed dark circles sitting under them. Your danger had weighed heavier than you realized on him, and you knew he’d spent countless hours trying to find a way to save you. 

     “Glad you’re home,” he said simply before sniffing and going back to his place.

**********

     “Find anything?” Sam asked, sitting himself down beside you and handing you one of the beers he’d gone to the kitchen to retrieve. You smiled your thanks before turning back to Dean across from you.

     “Nope,” Dean said gruffly, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. “But Rowena should be here soon. Says she might have found something.”

     Your stomach flipped at the thought of finally having some answers. As if sensing your nervous anxiousness, Sam reached under the table, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers together. He gave your hand a squeeze and sent you a soft smile of reassurance before turning his focus back on his brother.

     “Have you heard from Cas?” Sam asked.

     “Yeah,” Dean said. “Said he’ll be here as soon as he can.”

     “Does he have any theories?” you finally spoke.

     Dean looked up at you as if just realizing you were there, like he’d forgotten you were okay. “Didn’t say so,” he said. “If Rowena doesn’t know maybe he can...read your mind or something. Ya know. Work his angel mojo.”

     You smiled softly. “Yeah, maybe so,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek thoughtfully.

     “Hey,” Sam murmured, squeezing your hand again. You looked over at him, his eyes soft. “Don’t worry,” he reassured you once more. “We’re going to figure this out.”

     “I know,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand in return. 

     Just then there was a knock at the bunker door. Dean went to answer it, returning with Rowena a few moments later. “Hello, dears,” she greeted with a smirk. 

     “Hey, Rowena,” Sam said, you sending her a tight-lipped smile.

     She set a large black bag on the library table before turning her gaze to you, her expression softening. “You poor dear,” she said sympathetically. 

     “So what’s your theory?” Sam asked impatiently.

     Rowena sent him a smile that barely masked her annoyance. “Patience, Samuel,” she said. “This is very ancient, very powerful magic. To rush any of it would be foolish.”

     Sam’s jaw clenched and his grip on your hand tightened, but he didn’t argue further. “Now,” she said, turning her attention back to you. “Tell me exactly what happened while you were at the cabin and what led you to believe the curse broke.”

     You proceeded to tell her everything that had happened, starting with Sam and Dean leaving, your attempted suicide, Sam’s kiss and your subsequent episode because of it, and ending with you and Sam making love and realizing you weren’t dead. Rowena stood staring at you thoughtfully once you’d finished recounting.

     “Very strange…” she murmured. “I would have thought….” She trailed off, shaking her head in confusion before opening the bag in front of her and digging through it.

     Your stomach clenched at her tone, and you leaned forward. “Would have thought what?” you asked nervously.

     “Oh, nothing,” Rowena said vaguely, brushing off your question.

     “No!” you snapped, causing her to jump and Sam to look at you with wide eyes. “Tell me!”

     “Very well,” she said with a thin-lipped smile. “It’s just…. Did either of you….”

     She was abruptly cut off by the sound of fluttering wings as Cas flew into the library. “Hello, Sam, Dean,” he said. “Rowena,” he greeted rigidly.

     “Castiel,” the witch said with a soft smile and tip of her head. 

     “(Y/N),” Cas said, coming over to you. You stood just as he pulled you into his strong arms. “I’m glad you’re okay. Dean told me everything. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

     “It’s alright, Cas,” you said, giving him a smile after you’d pulled away. “I’m just glad to be alive.” Cas frowned before he placed a palm over your brow, closing his eyes while a soft, white light illuminated your skin. 

     “The curse is indeed gone,” Cas said. “And...it broke...quite suddenly.”

     “But...what does that mean then?” you asked. “And...and how?”

     “As I was saying,” Rowena interjected. “Did either of you, at any point after your episode in the kitchen, profess...your love?”

     You and Sam locked gazes, silently questioning one another and going back over the events after that episode. “I...don’t think so,” Sam said slowly.

     “No, wait,” you said thoughtfully. All eyes were on you as you carefully contemplated what you were going to say next. “After the episode…. Sam, you told me you loved me and that you’d wait for as long as you needed, to be with me.”

     Sam’s eyes lit up in recognition and he nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “And then...uh, when...when we….” He cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Well, you know. You said you loved me, too.”

     You smiled softly at the memory, so heavy, but yet so full of emotion, even now that the curse was gone. “That’s right,” you said. You turned back to Rowena, looking at her expectantly.

     She was smiling as if she held a great secret. “It’s just as I thought,” she said. “You see there was a witch, one of the very first. Very powerful - even more powerful than me,” she chuckled. “Anyway, she loved a man, but when she professed her love, he rejected her.

     “Out of spite, she created this curse - a curse of love. If he could find someone he loved, and they reciprocated his love in the span of ninety days, then the curse would be broken. If not, then his heart would quite literally break. Well, he was a very brash and hateful man, and even his own mother didn’t love him. He was found three months later on the floor of his home, a hole in his chest, his heart lying beside him.”

     You swallowed hard at the thought that that could have been you if the curse hadn’t been broken. You were brought out of your thoughts as Rowena continued.

     “The curse was never used by other witches not only because it was lost to time, only a few copies remaining but also because it was unreadable. You see, the witch used her own language, only putting the phrases ‘ninety days’ and ‘life force ceasing’ in Latin. Which makes me believe that the witch you killed in the factory was none other than the witch herself.”

     Your eyes widened at the revelation, and Dean let out a low whistle. “Wow,” Sam breathed. “So...when (Y/N) and I professed our love….”

     “It broke the curse,” you said, finishing Sam’s sentence. 

     “Precisely,” Rowena said. “It’s really the perfect curse for hunters. Always so lovelorn and alone,” she said wistfully. “However, she didn’t count on the love of Sam Winchester.”

**********

     Later that night you laid in your bed with Sam, your bodies pressed together and your legs intertwined. “I can’t believe I’m actually still here,” you said in near disbelief as you lightly played with the hair on his bare chest.

     Sam took a deep breath as his grip on you tightened. “Neither can I, actually,” he said, brushing his fingers over your side, feather light. “But I’m glad you are.”

     “I am, too,” you said, turning your head and softly kissing his chest. “Thank you for everything,” you whispered. “You literally saved my life.”

     A low chuckle escaped him, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. “How could I not?” he asked, turning his head to look at you. “You are my heart after all.”

     You smiled, leaning up to place your lips gently against his. “I love you,” you whispered against his mouth. You felt him smile before he rolled you over, caging you in between his firm body and the mattress.

     “I love you, too,” he said, reverently brushing a strand of hair off your brow before leaning down and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

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

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

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

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[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Earth Girl (Rey x Reader) Two

Request: "Reader traveling the galaxy with Rey? If that makes sense."

"Loved the Earth Girl imagine!!! Would you be able to do a part two please? Maybe when they get back to the resistance base and they debrief the reader and ask her questions about earth and what not? and a lot of fluff with Rey of course!!"

Words: 1, 732

A/N: This was really fun to make! I seriously can keep going and going, it's like I'm writing a escape from my boring life. Hope you guys like this!!! Part one. Let's just pretend the Star wars movies and comics doesn't exist in this world.

“Movies?” Rey asked with a big smile on her face, she was so excited to learn about Earth, how was like to be there, what you eat, everything. “What is that?” was the usual question that came after you mentioned something new for her.

“Like… like a recording and there’s people that act as others” you explained. By that time you had learned that the space and earth wasn’t that different, both had things that were the same but they called in another way, so you tried your best to describe the things to Rey in a way she could understand what they were. “They usually tell stories”

“About what?” she said her eyes focused on your face as she impatiently waited for the answer.

“The past, the present, the future, every sort of stories. The relationship of a royal lady and a boy that fell in love in a big ship that sank in the ocean, for example” you giggled “Everything is possible in a movie.”

“Sounds amazing” Rey told you. “You said there are movies about people from other parts of the galaxy. How do they look like?”

You chuckled, it was still unbelievable for you that you were not longer in earth and instead you were sitting at the edge of a spaceship looking down at the strange scenario of this rebel base where humans, droids and a variety of species of “aliens” passed by. And the truth was the movies didn’t really made justice to this, you didn’t believe a single person back at home would even imagine a thing like that.

“Not like this” you started “Most of them are slim green beings with big black eyes” you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of those tiny cartoon characters. “None of them looks like you, which is such a shame if you ask me” you told her giving her a wink and eliciting a laugh from the brunette.

“Hey, Rey!” someone yelled. It was the young charming pilot you met the day Rey rescued you, Poe if you remembered good. “Leia is back. Time has come, earth girl” he said referring to you. The General Organa had finally arrived to the base, she would decided if you stay or not with them or if she send you back to your past and boring life.

A few minutes after you were walking through the endless corridors of the Resistance base. The pilot was walking in front of you leading the way, Rey was by your side supporting you, she seemed to be a very protective person and you were glad to have her with you, rescuing you from being sold as a slave was a thing you never pay her. On the other side was the little sphere droid with orange patterns that beeped in a very high pitch something you couldn’t understand, not even with the universal translator on your neck.

“We talked about this, BB-8” you heard Poe said “Earth girl has to go back to her planet”

“Stop calling her that, Poe” said Rey in an almost angry way. “She has a name”

“Yeah, I know” he said annoying Rey. “We’re almost there” he informed you as he nodded towards a big room with a lot of people inside a woman talking to them in a firm tone.

General Leia Organa, Rey talked you about her and as far as you knew she used to be a princess from a planet not longer existed. She also told you about the history of her family and oh boy it was really confusing. Her father was a big bad man that tried to rule the galaxy, she had a twin brother and he was something called a Jedi. You were still processing all the information.

And there she was standing in front of a big crowd not doubting a single word. You waited ‘till her meeting was over and the she came directly to you and shook your hand.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure to finally met you” she said “Rey and Finn had tell me what happened in that planet, I still cannot believe it” you were a bit confused not exactly knowing how to respond or how to even talk to this kind looking woman.

“Neither do I” you answered forcing a smile.

“General, the interrogation room is ready” informed a soldier behind her.

“Won’t be necessary, she really is from Earth” said Leia

“But, General, we don’t know yet. She could be a spy” continued the man.

“She’s not” said firmly the General, and thanked that she was on your side. “Give some clothes to this girl, she need to be unnoticed. Gods know what could happen if someone else finds out where is she from” she ordered with a soft smile on her face before turning around. The doubt invaded you.

“Wait” you called out and she faced you. “What’s going to happen now? why is it so important to be from earth? I don’t understand why people get so surprised about it.” since the very start you were wondering that, why people wanted so desperate to buy a human from your overpopulated planet?

Leia sighed before she raised her voice again.

“The Milky Way is a forbidden galaxy, your solar system is the only one with an inhabited planet, often taken for a myth.” She explained “My dear child, please don’t tell anybody where you’re from, for your own good. I’ll try to find a way to take you back to your home but for now my hands are tied” she said. How kind was this woman.

“Thanks” you told her, this was too much information. That was why the scientist never had found anything in the planets nearby, and you were the only one that knew that, you were sure they would take you as a crazy back in home if you’d tell them that.

“So what should we do with her for now?” asked Poe that had been quietly listening.

“I believe Rey can answer you that, Poe” she smiled “I like that plan, take her there, Rey” General Organa said before she was gone. You looked at Rey, what plan? she hadn’t even speak. It was like she had read her mind or something, you wasn’t sure but at this point it wouldn't be surprising if they told you that was a possible thing to do.

“So?” you asked Rey as she smiled back at you.

“Takodana” she said.

“What’s that?” now it was you who was making questions about how this world so far away from yours worked.

“A planet, you’re gonna like it, Y/N” she said and gestured over the exit door as she offered you her hand, without blinking you took her hand and she guided you outside to met the ship she had rescued you and now you knew it was called the Millenium Falcon and used to be Han Solo’s a rebel hero from the past war, who was also Leia’s husband and they had a son.... Well, this family was really chaotic, and you used to think that one movie with a girl that didn’t know who of the three men was her father was confusing.

Everything here was much more interesting that in your own planet, better than the same old routine everyday, the empty life you had and even though you were unfamiliar with mostly everything around you it felt more like living, as if all those years back on earth you hadn’t being alive until now, running holding hands with this beautiful and kind woman.

And then you were traveling through space with her, looking the hypnotic view of the lightspeed. You felt Rey’s gaze focused on you and seeing from the corner of your eyes you caught her smiling softly at you, as if she was watching a kid seeing snow from the first time, and you felt like that if you were honest.

“Takuduna” you said looking at her.

“Takodana” Rey corrected you giggling.

“Why this planet?” you told her still exploring the ship with your eyes, there were too many buttons and levers.

“I like it” she said “It has a lot of green and blue, a nice weather and we have a friend that lives there” she said, her words denoting true happiness by this planet.

“You born in this place?” you asked.

“No, I don’t know where I was born” she said with a sad tone “I used to live in Jakku” you were so curious about her, you wanted to know everything about this woman.

“And how is Jakku?”

“It’s a desert, sand everywhere, a powerful sun that really burn your skin and makes you sweat a lot. You wouldn’t like it, Y/N” she said

“That’s why you left?” you interrogated.

“No, I… I wasn’t gonna leave but I found BB-8” she started, her words having trouble to leave her lips. You knew this part of the story, Finn told you about how he met Rey and what happened next.

“Why you stayed in that planet then, Rey?” you tried to helped a bit.

“I was waiting for my family but” she paused “They just didn’t come” you cursed yourself in your mind as you saw how sad Rey looked now.

“Sorry” you said as you got closer to Rey.

“It’s okay” she said. Suddenly the ship got out of lightspeed and revealed a planet that looked very similar to yours, except that you couldn’t actually tell if there were continentes but it reminded you of earth.

“For a moment I thought you brought me back home” you told Rey and her eyes filled with desire to learn once again.

“Earth looks like this?” she asked as she glanced at the planet.

“Kind of” you said and Rey sat at the pilot seat to fly the ship to the green planet.

“I would like to see it” she murmured “Y/N, your home sounds so great” she said.

“You wouldn’t like it, Rey” you said repeating her words. “Believe me once you put a feet there you’ll hate it. This is much better” you said smiling at her. “Traveling with you, I really like it” you saw her smile growing bigger as she reached to taker your hand.

“And you haven’t seen anything, yet”

[thevoilinauttheory]

FFXIVWrite2020 Prompt #28 - Irenic

Characters: Danny Harold, Jeramias Harold, Tyaka Harold Setting: The North Shroud, Harold home; approximately 1569 of the Sixth Astral Era, 2 years after Prompt #26, following the events of Prompt #27 -- 1572 of the Sixth Astral Era, a few moons before the fall of Dalamud. What: He was alive, but at what cost? Danny finally earns the love of his parents. Content Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, implications of abuse Author Notes: Danny got approximately 2 to 3ish years of his parents actually loving him, and having a pretty nice and quiet life, before Dalamud fell. He desperately longs for that kind of life again, but as it goes now, it’s probably not going to happen. Still, he can dream. --

Danny awoke on the sofa in his home’s common room, sight bleary at the ceiling above. His head turned slowly to look beside him - there was no one there, but there were chirurgeon supplies on a stool close by. How long was he out for? What happened? He looked down over his arms, small scratches and bruises covered them - but worst of all was his shoulder. He let out a hiss as he tried to sit up - an alarm for those around him. It was the chirurgeon, as well as his parents and his sister. His family was crying... over him? He tried to sit up again. “Ah-ah, don’t move.” He was reprimanded, gently pushed back down. “You’re still healing.” “What… happened?” His father stepped forward, kneeling himself down beside him. “I’m so sorry, Danny… had we known…” “Known what?” “As Tyaka’a put it, he caught Tyaka’to heading for your room. A fight ensued ‘n...“ “...Yeah, went fer everyone else… where’s Tyaka’a?” “...” There was silence. He knew what that meant, but he didn’t want to believe it. “Sleepin’n restin’... right?” His father shook his head. “Tyaka’to poisoned him, ‘n… there wasn’t much time. You were too, ‘n… we weren’t expectin’ you t’make it.” This was met with his own silence, there were so many thoughts in his head - the death of his brother hadn’t quite set in yet. His next words made their eyes fill with sadness and concern. “.... Why would y’care? Y’never have ‘fore.” “We know. ‘N… We’re sorry- I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any o’ that, ‘n… we don’t expect forgiveness either. We’re jus’... jus’ really glad you’re alive.” His mother spoke next. “If it weren’t for you scaring him off, who knows how that would have went...” 

--

“I swear that thing’s gettin’ closer, Tyaka.” Jeramias peered up at the sky from the doorway, then turned his attention to Danny - who was outside messing with the garden he planted after he recovered. “Any news on it?” “Nope. Think they’re tryin’ t’keep folks calm, honestly. That thing’s definitely goin’ t’hit us. But that’s why we got the basement, yeah?” “Right… should get t’stockin’ that.” His father stepped back inside. Danny turned his head to the sky as well. That their second moon was crashing down on them, it would be unbelievable if it weren’t happening in front of their eyes. He plucked some vegetables from the ground, and apples from the tree that stood guard beside his home; and tossed them into a basket before moving back inside. He could live like this. He missed his brothers, but his family was calmer and more friendly - and accepted him as he was.

[westannatasharomanoff]

THG AU Chapter 26

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3     Chapter 4    Chapter 5    Chapter 6 Chapter 7   Chapter 8   Chapter 9  Chapter 10   Chapter 11 Chapter 12  Chapter 13 Chapter 14  Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17  Chapter 18 Chapter 19   Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22  Chapter 23   Chapter 24  Chapter 25

A reminder before we begin that this is an AU and not everything needs to be possible in original canon.

*Once Bruce and Natasha got back to the house and unpacked Bruce’s bags, they decided to sit together in the living room for a bit before dinner. Natasha lasted about two minutes before she fell asleep on his lap. About ten minutes later, he heard a knock at the door.*

Bruce: Who is it?

Wanda: It’s me, Wanda.

Bruce: Oh, come in. *points to Natasha* Just be quiet.

Wanda: *enters* I need to talk to you.

Bruce: What’s wrong?

Wanda: I need to know who’s okay.  What happened to everyone in District 3?

Bruce: *sigh* Oh, that. Tony was with me and he’s okay. His daughter, Morgan, was found in an old storm cellar, so she’s alive. They never found his wife, Pepper, and Vision’s definitely dead. That’s everyone you know. 

Wanda: *tears in her eyes* Oh.

Bruce: Are you all right? 

Wanda: No, this is all my fault! I shouldn’t have- I’m so sorry! *runs to the door*

Bruce: It’s not your- *door shuts behind Wanda*

*Bruce sighed and looked down at Natasha. He kissed her on the forehead and stood up to make dinner. He woke her up to eat and they went to bed early. The next day, a hovercraft arrived with all of Bruce’s lab equipment and a spare bedroom was turned into a lab. They got settled pretty quickly, and after a week they couldn’t imagine things any other way. Two weeks after the wedding, the victory tour took place. The winner of the 90th Hunger Games was a boy from District 4 and his tour went pretty well. Two weeks after the tour, they got a visit from a man that looked strikingly similar to President Snow.*

Natasha: *opens the door* (shocked) President Snow! To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?

Ego: I’m not President Snow. I’m his brother, Ego. Although, I do bring a message from him. Can I come in?

Natasha: Of course! We were just about to eat breakfast. Bruce! The president’s brother came to see us. 

Bruce: What? Oh! Hello sir. Please, sit down! Would you like some raisin nut bread? 

Ego: Sure. Thank you. 

Natasha: You said you had a message from the president? 

Ego: Yes. I do. You see, there’s a rumor of a secret organization being started to rebel against The Capitol. We need you to give the districts something to talk about other than the accidental bombing of 3 so that this movement doesn’t take off.

Bruce: What do you want us to do?

Ego: Nothing too big, we just want you to have a baby.

Natasha: *dropping her plate* A baby?! Now what gave you that idea? I’m not- I mean- are you sure you meant to say baby? I never said we were having a baby! 

Ego: Yes, a baby. That’ll distract the people. We’ll even send the best interior designer in The Capitol to build your nursery. 

Natasha: We can’t just decide exactly if and when that happens! Like, what, you think we can just have one right now? 

Ego: Both of my children were fairly easy. Make it happen. Anyway, where did you get this raisin nut bread? It is absolutely delicious and I want to bring some home to my daughter and son. 

Bruce: Our friend Wanda made it. She won the 88th games and cooking is her hobby. She made several loaves yesterday. 

Ego: I’ll have to ask her for one. 

Natasha: Wait, so you're just going to force us to have a child? Shouldn’t that be our decision? 

Bruce: Nat, calm down. We wouldn’t want to upset our guest. 

Ego: Listen to your husband. Bruce, thank you for controlling your wife.

Bruce: She doesn’t need to be controlled, we just wouldn’t want to be rude to our special surprise visitor. 

Natasha: Right, I’m sorry. 

Ego: I’ll be back in a month to see how things are going. 

Natasha: Okay. *under her breath* This is awkward.

Bruce: *after he leaves* What’s awkward? Why did you get so defensive? What’s gotten into you? Are you pregnant or something?

Natasha: *slightly annoyed* Surprise! 

Bruce: Wait, what? Seriously? 

Natasha: Yep.  I wasn’t going to tell you quite yet, but...

Bruce: This is so exciting! I can’t believe this! You should tell Ego right now so he doesn’t have to come back!

Natasha: Uggh, fine. 

*Natasha catches up to Ego and explains the situation. Two weeks later, The Capitol aired a news story announcing a baby naming competition.*

Natasha: Unbelievable! We don’t even get to name our own baby! 

Bruce: I know you’re upset, but we have to play by their rules. Besides, not all of their name ideas are bad. I kind of like Carson for a boy. 

Natasha: Well then I guess it’s a real shame we’re the only people in Panem who don’t get to vote. 

Bruce: It’ll be fine. We still have each other and soon we’ll have- *hears tapping at back window* what is that sound?

Natasha: Nick Fury? Why is he tapping on our window? Who’s that guy with him?

Bruce: *opening the window* I have no idea. 

Fury: I need to talk to you two. Natasha, is your friend Maria busy today? You know, the one from the wedding? 

Natasha: She’s in the coal mines right now, but she’ll be home in a couple hours. 

Fury: Perfect. Until then, Coulson, if you will. 

* The mysterious man pushes a button, trapping Natasha, Bruce, Fury, and himself in a clear bubble.*

Fury: This thing is soundproof and we can see what’s outside of it without being seen. I can hear hear anyone who is outside of the bubble using this earpiece. We’ll know if someone enters. 

Bruce: This is amazing! How did you make it?

Phil: Have you met a man name Leo Fitz? He’s about your age and he’s also from 3. He built this. 

Bruce: How do you know Leo?

Natasha: More importantly, who are you and why are you here? 

Phil: My name is Phil Coulson, District 9.

Fury: He’s here because we need to talk to you about S.H.I.E.L.D. 

Natasha: What?

Fury: It’s an organization put together by a woman from District 4. Her name is Margaret “Peggy” Carter and her goal is to overthrow President Snow and the other hooligans he has running our government. I’m her second in command. 

Coulson: Basically, S.H.I.E.L.D. is here to help protect the citizens of Panem from an oppressive government. Eventually, we’ll liberate them. 

Bruce: How long has this been a thing? 

Fury: It all started about sixteen years ago. Peggy and I as well as a few others were working with District 13 to try to start a rebellion.

Natasha: District 13 was completely obliterated almost 100 years ago! Are you saying it survived?

Fury: The Capitol mostly let it be. They were smallpox bombed once a few decades ago and it wiped out like half of the population, but they survived that. Unfortunately, they were smallpox bombed again after the berry incident and they all died off due to disease and a lack of resources. It looked like the revolution was over for good, but Peggy wouldn’t accept that. She founded S.H.I.E.L.D. as an initiative to save Panem, and now she wants you two in on it. She wanted Clint too, but... 

Natasha: We’re in. 

Bruce: What? Natasha, I can’t let you do this. We can’t do this. 

Natasha: We have to! We can’t just sit here while the government does terrible things! That makes us no better than them. 

Bruce: I am not letting my pregnant wife join a secret organization and attempt to overthrow the government! Keeping you safe will always be my number one priority. 

Natasha: We have to do this. For Clint, for Yelena, for Vision, for Pepper, for Wanda and Pietro’s parents, and for anyone else that is defenseless against the might of The Capitol. Besides, if we’re having a child, isn’t it kind of our duty to create a better tomorrow? A world where they won’t have to worry about being reaped for the games and everyone has a fair chance at survival.

Bruce: That sounds amazing, but losing you is not a risk I am willing to take. 

Natasha: That’s my decision, not yours. *turns to Fury* I’m in.

Bruce: I’m sticking with her, so I’m in too. I just have one question. How did Coulson manage to get here from 9 without The Capitol knowing? 

Phil: We have someone in District 6. Alphonso Mackenzie, he fixes hovercrafts. We actually cloak hovercrafts and have important meetings midair. The Capitol hasn’t detected us yet. 

*Later that night, Maria Hill was recruited.*

Fury: Welcome aboard!

Maria: Thanks, I’m glad to be a part of this.

Fury: Ever since the wedding I haven’t been able to shake the feeling that I know you from somewhere. 

Maria: You know, it’s funny you should say that, because you do look familiar.

Fury: That is odd.

thank you to @fictionalfangirlsworld for helping me place characters in districts.

[drmedicsgamesurgery]

Danganronpa Togami Volume 3 Part 5 (Summary)

You thought chapter 2 was over? Think again!

Thanks to @enoshima-pyon @shockersalvage​ @jinjojess​ @hopeymchope​ for helping out!

5.

██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ I ██ Why… am I still alive, █████, I am alive. I’m not in pain, either. I gently touched my face with my hands that were shaking with fear, and there was an odd feeling around my right eye. The same hard and sharp thing... had pierced me deeply. I used all my imagination to come to a conclusion. What happened was obvious. I made up my mind to try to pull it out, the rustling sound echoed inside my head, and Borges fell out of my eye socket with the bullet that was stabbed in it. It was a strange sight. In a sense, I felt that Borges was more intimate with me than even Byakuya-sama, just like my eternal twin brother. And it has been skewered like grilled octopus, and now it seems to be shivering in front of my eyes. Im sorry, poor little thing.

Borges was broken.

Borges is broken but Shinobu knows it’s not the time to be sad. They were attacked by a sniper and Hiroyuki is already dead. If she is still alive, it means the sniper can’t see her while she is in the corner of the room. She gets down on the ground, using her remaining eye to asses the situation. In the center of the room she can see Hiroyuki, or at least, who she thought was Hiroyuki’s face lying in the chicken he was eating, making it look like his head was a chicken. If it weren’t for the blood leaking out of him, she would have thought it was an elaborate set up. In front of him was the window which covered nearly the entire wall, with the glass shattered near the center. The sniper shot through the window and there is a mountain on the other side of it.

I didn’t know if the sniper was hiding somewhere in the mountains, and I didn’t know what kind of person he was. I couldn’t use the optical ranging function nor the infrared function nor the radio function nor the search function now. I couldn’t grasp more information. Although my left eye was still intact, it felt like my eyes were blindfolded. I really relied on Borges a lot. I couldn’t remember how I saw things before I put Borges in my body. I didn’t know anything. The only thing I knew is that I had to escape from that room. Therefore, I intend to open the door to the hallway, but the problematic thing is that if I want to do this, I must pass by Hiroyuki, and I must expose my whole body to the range of the sniper. This makes me unable to do so. I don’t know if I should work up the courage and try my luck, because the sniper is likely to be monitoring the situation in the room through a scope... But is that really the case? Maybe the sniper thought that I had been killed. After all, I was shot, and I should have already died on the spot. Maybe the sniper thinks I am dead, and now packing bags and getting ready to go home... Is that really the case? Since the opponent's goal is me, then the other party should know that my right eye is a fake eye, then I should also be aware that I am lucky enough to have that eye save my life... Is this really true? On one side is a sniper, and on the other is that my eyesight is now poor. I don't know, I don't know anything. Nothing is 100% certain.

I was hiding in the shadows and looked around the room again. The most conspicuous thing in the living room is the table and Hiroyuki’s body. Although you can see the luxurious sofas and paintings, they can't play any blocking role in the face of sniper rifles. The enemy is stationed in the mountains, and may be looking for my position through the big window. If this is the case, then the door leading to the corridor is within the range of the other party, so i can’t go that route. Although I really hope that there is another way to escape, most of the other windows are also within range, and even if I venture to open the window, it wouldn’t help, because we are on the top floor of the building.

I had two choices:

> Get out of the room

> Don’t get out of the room

She doesn’t think she’ll make it if she tries to get out of the room. She doesn’t have the strength of the SHSL Martial Artist nor the ability of the SHSL Affluent Progeny. She is just a secretary. So she decides to lay down and close her remaining eye. Soon she falls asleep.

“Are you awake?”

Shinobu wakes up at the sound of that voice. Was it Byakuya-sama?

It came from out of the window. Just like with the World Domination Proclamation, the voice came from the city’s broadcast system.

"It's me, 'Super High School Level Heir', Byakuya Togami. Are you sleeping well? Well, let me explain to you dullards. The deadline for the 'World Domination Proclamation’ ends today at 6 pm. There are five hours left. The world will soon be owned by me. You will be affiliated with me. Of course, this is equivalent to supreme happiness, but presumably you will still resist to the last second, trying to kill me and trying to uncover the secret of the 'pitiful cattle'.

"However, that is useless. Everything is useless. You also know that you are weak and pathetic. Just like you can't beat a chariot with a paper cutter, you can't beat me. This is a principle. A truth. No one can let Togami yield, no one can make me fail. You are like the gum sticking to the soles of my new shoes, seconds after I put them on... At most, it affects my mood.”

"Five hours from now, the world will be reborn. The unprecedented new world will be kicked off in my rule. This kind of happiness, this kind of luck, you will feel it in your bones. You can't stop it.”

"However, this is too unfair. Yes, this war is unfair from the beginning. In the face of an opponent like me, you have no chance at all. This overwhelming battle gap even makes someone like I have some sympathy for you. This once again proves that miracles like the Winter War [1], the Battle of Kollaa [2], and the Siege of Oshi [3] will not happen easily. I am-almost-saddened by this. Therefore, I have decided to be extra gracious to you.”

“I am in one place now.”

"A place that is commensurate with me. If someone were to visit that place before the deadline of the ‘World Domination Proclamation’, you will be glad to know I might be willing to talk and listen to you.You should be able to understand. Okay? See you later.”

Shinobu feels like she’s heating up. Is it anger or is she just regaining vitality? She doesn’t care about giving a name to that feeling. She found her way back to feeling like herself again, part of her own story and that is enough for her. She is just a simple secretary, a recording device, not a noble son or a god. And that is enough for her. However since she doesn’t have Borges she doesn’t have as much faith in her japanese language skills but:

I am the Super High School Level Secretary, so then I should go to my writing topic as soon as possible.

> Get out of the room

Don't go out of the room? It’s giving me a headache to think about that stupidity. I never thought about choosing the latter. I never want to sleep in this place, because Byakuya-sama is waiting for me alone. Byakuya-sama only wants me to go alone and look for him.

At the end of the speech, he did not say the collective "you" but the singular "you". He said, "You should be able to understand." That is to say, he only calls me alone, Byakuya-sama, he believes that I will go to him, if this is the case, then I must go to him, because I am his sister. I have to act, I must act, even if I have to gamble on life, I will not hesitate to gamble on everything. That's right…

“I’ll stake the Togami name on it!”

I stood up quietly and began to do stretching exercises, one, two, three, and my knees creaked whenever I bent them. I am not sure if this is the sound bones are meant to make but since Borge is broken, I can't get more knowledge on that. Now I can only rely on my own naked eyes and intuition, so if I don't force myself to fight, I will have no way to break through this situation. Isn't this just what I want? If you don't speculate or calculate, then you won’t be able to plan your move. I quickly moved to the side of the big window. The opposite of this large window is the door I longed for, about ten meters away. I beg you, I beg you, just a few seconds, give me time to let my body reach the place safely.

"Oh-"

I grabbed the thick cloth and ran forward in one breath. Fortunately, the cloth was not stuck, and it swung forward smoothly, covering the large window.

A curtain! Yes!

Shinobu’s plan went something like this: Cover half of the big window with the curtain so that both parties have only half of their vision. Then use the curtain’s barrier to run to the door, and then have them shoot so she can figure out their approximate position. She goes for it and a bullet brushes past her hair, barely missing. She rushes to the door and another bullet hits her side, however it doesn’t kill her Wondering to herself how she is still alive, she dashes out of the room in pain. She doesn’t want to go through the lobby, so she smashes through a window on the first floor and jumps out. 

The window sill was unexpectedly high, and my butt landed firmly on the ground

I looked up and saw the sun. The heat outside, the blue sky and the wind that caressed the cheeks made me feel that I was still alive. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. A book fell from my arms to the ground.

"Journey Under The Midnight Sun" had in it, a big hole, and spread out with the wind.

The book had saved her from any major injury.

The record of the existence Byakuya Togami, the text created by me as its medium, which has always been with me, rises like a group of butterflies flying in the air, and then flies away in the distance; Biography, my self identity, is flying away in the wind. I watched this scene, and I felt almost unbelievably happy. “Goodbye, my book!” An old writer who won the Nobel Prize once shouted, and he continued to write novels after that. Nothing much, just write again, as long as I am still alive.

"Thank you."

I did not say goodbye, but said such a sentence.

Borges, Journey Under The Midnight Sun, thank you. Thank you for helping me all this time, but... you were my compass and my purpose, and now that I lost you, what should I do next?

I suddenly realized that I held something in my hand, like a newborn baby. I remembered that when Hiroyuki was attacked, his hand had held mine. Much like Taro Urashima opening the jewelled box [4], I slowly opened my hand and saw that there was a piece of paper with only one letter written on it:

                                                         K

Translation Notes:

[1] The Winter War was a war between the Soviet Union (USSR) and Finland. It began with a Soviet invasion of Finland on 30 November 1939, three months after the outbreak of World War II, and ended three and a half months later with the Moscow Peace Treaty on 13 March 1940. The League of Nations deemed the attack illegal and expelled the Soviet Union from the organisation. 

[2] The Battle of Kollaa was fought from December 7, 1939, to March 13, 1940, in Ladoga's Karelia, Finland, as a part of the Soviet-Finnish Winter War. Kollaa is often considered to have been one of the most difficult places to defend during the Winter War. It has been estimated that the Red Army fired almost 40,000 artillery rounds at the defence line during a single day, whereas the Finnish artillery could fire only 1,000 rounds per day at the very most. However the Finnish managed to come out victorious.

[3] The Siege Of Oshi (1590) was one of many battles in Toyotomi Hideyoshi's campaigns against the Hōjō clan during Japan's Sengoku period. Oshi Castle was a stronghold of the Narita clan in north-central Musashi Province. The Narita were originally vassals of the Ogigayatsu Uesugi clan and under the leadership of Narita Akiyasu completed Oshi Castle around 1479. The castle was built on a small elevation near the Tone River and used surrounding marshes and swamplands as part of its outer defenses. It was regarded as one of the seven most important strongholds of the Kantō region. During the Siege of Odawara in 1590, the daimyō Toyotomi Hideyoshi dispatched one of his senior retainers, Ishida Mitsunari, on an expedition to reduce the outlying castles still loyal to the Odawara Hōjō clan throughout the Musashi Province. Three days after capturing Tatebayashi Castle, Ishida's forces of 23,000 troops arrived at Oshi. On arrival they discovered that the Narita clan leader, Narita Ujinaga, was at Odawara with the bulk of his forces. He had left his home castle defended by only 619 samurai and 2000 local conscripts led by his daughter Kaihime and younger brother Narita Ujichika. After the castle refused to surrender, the castle held off numerous attacks from Ishida's forces. This included a copy-cat effort to flood the defenders using the same method that Hideyoshi used at his famous Siege of Takamatsu. Despite Ishida's impressive construction of 28 kilometers of dikes and torrential rains, the castle still held for over a month. Eventually the defenders only surrendered after hearing word that their lord had been defeated at Odawara.

[4] Urashima Taro is the protagonist of a Japanese fairy tale, who in a typical modern version is a fisherman rewarded for rescuing a turtle, and carried on its back to the Dragon Palace beneath the sea. There he is entertained by the princess Otohime as a reward. He spends what he believes to be several days with the princess, but when he returns to his home village, he discovers he has been gone for at least 100 years. When he opens the forbidden jewelled box, given to him by Otohime on his departure, he turns into an old man.

To Be Continued.

https://drmedicsgamesurgery.tumblr.com/GameSurgeryDRTranslations

[etlunainmorte]

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes."

V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way, and forevermore, that's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. Also for introducing Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @lessy86 , @diabeticsugarush , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

She heard a knock on the door and heard Dante calling her name. She turned away from the lonely man, not really wanting to go.

"I'm coming!" She called back, then looked at her partner's anguished face once more. Despite the pain that she suddenly felt in her heart upon seeing a vision of him, she still made an effort to caress his face and smiled, reassuring him, hoping that he would understand. She left him standing there in the middle of the room.

And as she glanced back at him, the sight that greeted her hurt her even more. In fact, the pain was unbearable.

His tears were streaming down his face, his expression simply too painful to withstand.

He doesn't want her to go.

He,... doesn't want her to leave,...

***