#Bees Made Honey In The Vein Tree | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amintyworld · 3 years

Text

The Return - Dream SMP 12 Years AU

A/N: Hey guys! Welcome to another introduction to a AU idea I had with a lotta fluff and angst. May write more with this AU because I have a lot of ideas for it. Hope you enjoy and as always, if you have any questions about this AU at all, my ask box is always open, I'd love to talk about this.

By the way, for the enderman text I used this translator that my friend @griffintail uses in her work as well. It was really helpful and you guys should totally check out her work on her blog, she's awesome. - Minty

Summary: 12 years after the Bench Trio, Wilbur, Sam and Sapnap kill Dream for good and burn the revive book, the masked man returns on a plan for revenge.

TW: Blood/gore, kidnapping, torture, attempted murder, murder, implied character death, running away, denial, cursing, sympathetic dream? (He's a ghost). (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!) (Also, shippers get off my lawn please and thank you.)

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

Michael’s eyes narrowed as someone, a stranger he couldn’t recognize slowly approached the house. That bright green hoodie and weird mask made his instincts flare, sensing danger. He jumped down, getting out his sword as he slowly walked to greet the intruder. His Dads and Uncle Technoblade trained him well enough that a plan was already forming in his head, going over the stock he had on him in his mind, prepared for whatever the stranger was planning to do.

A golden ax hung from the masked man’s back, a smile peeking out from under that smooth porcelain-like surface that the zombie piglin couldn’t tell if it was friendly or sinister. Finally, they were about five feet apart, facing each other. Michael pulled the cloak around him slightly more as a cold wind blew through the field. “Who are you? What are you doing on Snowchester Property?”

The man just stared at him, looking at him up and down.

“Answer me, dammit!”

“Michael, right?” The masked man walked toward him casually. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met.”

“Not another step!” Michael shouted, pointing his enchanted netherite sword threateningly at the stranger, who looked almost amused at this action, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “How do you know my name?!”

“Oh, your parents didn’t tell you? We’re family.”

“...family?”

“Not by blood, of course. I’m more like... a friend. A family friend. Your parents and I were very close back in the day, I just came by for a visit.”

“A visit…? If you’re so close with my parents how come you haven’t visited before?”

“You know how adventuring can be - it takes up a lot of time, you know.” The masked man smiled and made Michael’s gut churn uncomfortably. “I’ve heard so much about you, Michael.” The stranger kept walking towards the teenager, his hands up casually. “It’s been so long, we should really spend some time and catch up-”

“NO! No. Stay… stay right there. Don’t… don’t you dare fucking move, you got that?!” The man stopped around three feet away from him now. “Now you either tell me your name or I’m putting this blade through your teeth.”

The man sighed. “Pity. I was really hoping to get to talk with you peacefully, Michael. You seem like a nice kid.”

“What?”

Quickly and flawlessly, the masked intruder pulled out his ax and Michael quickly readied his sword, ready for a fight. What he didn’t expect was for the intruder to get some air and run up the wall of the mansion, landing down the blow with a lot more force than the zombie piglin expected, and he dug his hooves into the snow, somehow keeping himself from getting knocked over completely. Using all of his strength he pushed the intruder off, scrambling for a strength potion as the man tackled him to the ground. “Nuh-uh, that’s cheating.” Michael was quick to grab his sword and defend, moving to strike against his neck. The masked man moved to dodge, the black string of his mask getting nicked by Michael’s blade, making it begin to fall to start to reveal blonde hair and cold green eyes that were somewhat familiar to Michael, though he couldn’t figure out from where. As he hesitated, the man’s eyes flared with anger. Within seconds he’d pulled Michael’s arm against his back toward his shoulder blade, making the piglin feel like his arm was going to snap. He grunted in pain, reaching to grab his sword that got knocked into the snow when he felt the press of an ax against his neck, enough pressure to feel the sharpness of the blade. The zombie piglin could hear his heartbeat in his ears, swallowing his fear.

“I’m Dream, though I think you already know who I am.” Dream huffed against the piglin’s desperate struggle, the familiar adrenaline rushing through his veins from a victory. Of course, Michael knew the stories - his Dads and Uncle Tommy defeated that psychopath 12 years ago. They killed him, how the fuck was he alive?! The blade pressed harder against Michael’s neck as it began to draw a bit of blood. “Stop struggling.” Dream relished how much he’d missed all this, how much he’d missed being in control. “You and I are gonna have a little chat.”

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

Ranboo hauled his basket of carrots and potatoes beside him as he reached down to grab some of the new harvests. A snowstorm was coming in soon, and they needed to stock up for the coming colder months. Their farms grew so big that a few of them set up shop in front of the old decommissioned prison, Pandora’s Box. Twelve years ago Ranboo, Tubbo, and Tommy had faced that prison head-on, fighting their old allies turned foes, death at nearly every turn they took. They succeeded with a little help, burying the body a little outside of the prison walls and never looking back. The three of them faced many more trials after that, growing close as years passed and the server became peaceful as it used to be back in the beginning. The children grew up, their parents giving them the world and more, protecting them from harm, and making sure they had better than their parents ever did. Now, throwing another bright orange carrot in his basket, Ranboo couldn’t help but smile across the way at his husband, teetering up the ladder in a straw sun hat, gathering honey from their bee farm. He’d gifted the ladder a few years prior - “A little short help for my shortie”. Tubbo threatened a villain arc at the note, making everyone around the table laugh as Ranboo walked over to embrace him, his chin resting on Tubbo’s head gently as the shorter had crossed his arms with a huff. Ranboo’s heart warmed at the fond memory.

He felt happy.

FoolishG whispered to you: Ranboo he’s back.

You whisper to FoolishG: What do you mean?

You whisper to FoolishG: Who?

FoolishG whispered to you: He’s going after you first.

FoolishG whispered to you: Is Michael with you?

You whisper to FoolishG: No.

You whisper to FoolishG: You didn’t answer my question, Foolish.

FoolishG whispered to you: Michael’s in danger, you need to get to him now.

FoolishG whispered to you: Dream’s alive, Ranboo.

You whisper to FoolishG: If this is some kind of joke this isn’t funny.

You whisper to FoolishG: This isn’t funny

You whisper to FoolishG: You know how he messed with me, stop it

You whisper to FoolishG: Don’t joke about that, Foolish.

You whisper to FoolishG: Foolish answer me

You whisper to FoolishG: Foolish?

Ranboo dropped his messenger in fear as the reality of the situation began to set in, his breaths beginning to panic. No, no no no no… they killed him. They killed him, they got rid of him for good. He’s supposed to be dead, he’s supposed to be gone-!

“Ranboo?” Tubbo looked over at him with concern as he packed up the jars of honey from their bee farm. Ranboo’s silence did not help his unease. “Ranboo, what’s wrong?”

FoolishG whispered to you: Hurry, Ranboo. I don’t know how long he’ll last.

Tubbo was kneeling in front of him now, grounding him with his hands on his husband’s shoulders. “Breathe. Breathe, Ranboo. Deep breaths, you’ve got it…”

As Ranboo tried in vain to even his breaths, he held Tubbo’s hand in fear. “Dream’s back... He’s...he… he’s alive and he has Michael.”

“What?” Tubbo’s eyebrows furrowed. “But… but we burned the revive book. We killed him, I saw his body-!”

“Michael… fuck, he has Michael…” Ranboo cursed on his breath. “This is all my fault, I should’ve known-!”

“No. None of that. You can’t blame yourself for this.” Tubbo dismissed, getting up and holding his hand out toward the enderman. “We’ve killed him before, we’ll just kill him again, right? We’ll save Michael and put a stop to this for good.” As Tubbo helped Ranboo back to his feet, he moved under a tree to place the purple glowing black box that greeted the two like an old friend. An enderchest. They hadn’t needed to use it for so long. They hadn’t needed what was inside. Tubbo pulled out a familiar enchanted sword that used to plague Ranboo’s dreams. His sword. The goat hybrid took off his straw hat and with one last glance placed it inside the enderchest, his eyes focused and thinking. He felt the new weight of the sword in his hand, getting used to the weapon again. “It’ll work this time. It has to.”

“It will.” Ranboo echoed.

Will it?

Tubbo’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, looking somber, numb. When they finally killed Dream they thought it would be the last time, the last war to fight. All three of them strived and hoped for peace, for all of it to be over, to get their own happy endings. He moved to the side, pulling out his communicator from his pocket. “Grab your stuff. I’ve got to warn Tommy.”

As Ranboo grabbed his own enchanted sword and his old armor from the chest, he couldn’t help but wonder, a single thought that nagged him and wouldn’t seem to leave his mind, making his stomach sink to the floor in dread…

...What if they never killed him in the first place?

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

Phil closed his eyes as he sat in his chair, feeling something wrong, off in the air, something he couldn’t quite place. The room around him is silent but Phil can feel the world yelling for him, screaming for him. It’s trying to tell him something. Phil’s been alive for a long time. He’s seen the earth burst with new life, and slaughtered bodies fall to the floor, smelling nothing but the cold press of death. He’s seen it, heard it, felt it so many times it was a familiar, somewhat comforting feeling for him. It was calming, it was constant, it was natural.

So why did it…?

Phil’s eyes opened slowly, looking out the window in thought as Technoblade walked in from the snowstorm outside, a chill running through the cabin. The piglin dropped his bag of loot on the floor and began to shoulder off his snow gear to hang by the fire to dry. As Techno walked past him, moving in front of the fire to undo his braids, damp from the snow.

“Techno, something’s happening.”

“Heh?” The piglin’s ears perked up from the break in the somewhat comfortable silence they usually shared. “What… what do you mean?”

“Something’s wrong. It feels… unnatural.” Phil said, closing his eyes briefly again to focus on the feeling. “Did you see anything off while you were out?”

“Not really, the snow’s coming down so hard you can barely see a thing out there.” The piglin shrugged, the concern on his friend’s face only making a pit form in his stomach he tried to ignore. “...what’s wrong?”

“Something’s moving… breathing… it shouldn’t be.”

“Zombies, maybe?” Techno suggested. “I did see a few while I was out.”

“Maybe.” Phil agreed. “Part of me feels like something’s off, something dangerous. Like when you… you were almost…” Phil sighed. “I guess I’m just worrying over nothing again.”

“I wouldn’t say nothing - you have good instincts, Phil.”

“Battle instincts. Instincts I don’t need anymore. And here I thought you’d have a harder time adjusting to all this.” Phil scoffed.

“A lot’s been changing. With everything that happened, I don’t blame you for being a little tense, Phil. I am too.” Technoblade admitted. “Just to be safe, we can double-check when the storm passes, that way we won’t get any interference with the communicators.”

“I’d like that.” Phil smiled, moving to sit next to his friend by the fireplace. “Thanks, Techno.”

Technoblade scoffed, his mouth breaking into a smile. “Hey, don’t mention it.” The piglin ran his hands through his hair, going through a few knots before grabbing a brush. Taking a deep breath to calm the knots in his stomach, Phil moved to set the kettle on the furnace, grabbing a match to light it.

Miles away from the icy tundra, Foolish walked through the Temple of the Undying, a small teenager in their arms. He was silent as he marched, tears going down his cheeks full of emotion the god held back. His arm gently cradled the child’s head close to his chest. His heart weighed heavy with guilt, words and memories echoing in his mind of failure, of how he failed his son.

Foolish could feel presences, he could feel others watching from the shadows and corners. Every single statue and totem memorial against the wall seemed to have their gazes fixed on him as if waiting for what the god would do next. For once, Foolish didn’t know what to do.

He hadn’t even told anyone the news yet. How could he? His son was dead and it was all his fault. All because he wasn’t careful. Dream was back, he was standing there next to his son and for once he couldn’t control his anger, his panic. He tried to strike him down, but…

He still remembered every detail, how Dream had just… smiled. He wasn’t afraid. He was staring down a god, and he wasn’t afraid. Somehow, he was always one step ahead.

Lightening still sparked and clung to Foolish Jr.’s body. Foolish couldn’t help but think about how much pain he must’ve been in, how much pain he must’ve put him through. He fell to his knees in the center of the temple, gently laying his son on the floor, the beacon lighting him in a bright glow. His hands shaking, Foolish brushed a bit of hair out of Junior’s eyes, bowing his head toward the ground.

“I’m sorry…” His soft whispers echoed through the temple. “I’m so so sorry, Ra forgive me for what I’ve done…” Tears dripped down to the floor. “My little totemling…” Foolish’s eyes snapped toward the walls as the totem statue’s eyes began to softly glow, bathing the two in green light. The totem god’s eyes still wet with tears as he looked into the green eyes, a silent question on his mind. Whispers filled his ears that he couldn’t quite decipher. Suddenly, he felt it.

A pinprick in the middle of his chest, expanding throughout his body, the pain pulsing like a heartbeat. His breath hitched as drowsiness overtook him, making him feel dizzy. An essence was being slowly pulled from his body, glowing like some kind of enchantment on a weapon. Sweat built on Foolish’s brow as he struggled to keep his breaths even. Then… a stinging slice across his middle left him in a silent scream. His hand slowly reached up toward his chest, his eyes widening when he found it covered in crimson. The pain was overwhelming - it felt as if his body was torn apart and stitched back together in a matter of seconds. He scrambled to grab a health potion, downing it all and wincing at the terrible aftertaste but thankfully finally getting some relief. His eyes focused on the essence as it hung up into the air above the two, and slowly was lowered, expanding around Foolish Junior’s body.

As the green light faded, Foolish heard faint chanting, looking around for where it was coming from, trying desperately to piece together what was happening. Before Foolish had time to figure out exactly what the chanting was saying, the body shooting upwards from the ground, gasping for breath quickly grabbed his attention.

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

Michael didn’t know how long it was. How many hours had passed since he’d been tied to the chair? He didn’t even know if it was night or day. He sat in the middle of his parent’s bedroom, feet and hands tied expertly - he was completely and utterly trapped. With every time he struggled and strained against the bonds they cut against his skin and irritated it enough to make them bleed, almost training the piglin to try to stay as still as possible, to avoid any pain.

Dream stalked around the bedroom like a thief, searching through the closet and drawers for something or other. He’d pick up a potion, a diamond, even an ingot or two, holding them up toward the light as if to inspect them before dropping them in his bag. His gaze fell upon a picture of the family from their beach vacation a few years ago - Ranboo fell asleep with a seagull perched on his stomach. Michael remembered how much he and his father had tried to hold back their laughter enough for a selfie, only for Ranboo to wake up and scare the seagull away halfway through taking the picture. They looked so happy together.

Dream seemed unfazed by the photo, almost studying it in a sense. The gaze seemed oddly calculated, making the teen feel uneasy.

“Michael you’re a good kid, you know.” Michael’s glare bore into Dream’s mask as sticky drips of crimson spilled over his hands. “You always want to do the right thing, want to protect everyone. You shouldn’t have to be the one to fight your parent’s battles, should you?”

Michael remained silent.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Michael. I really don’t. Despite what your parents might have told you, I’m not a monster. It brings me no satisfaction to bring you pain. After all, you’ve done nothing to me.”

“So?”

“So I’m giving you some free advice - take the easy way out, for both of us. All you need to do is tell me where that armor is hidden, and I’ll let you go.”

“Bullshit.” Michael spat. “I know that’s not what you want, my parents told me more than that you’re just some scary monster. You’re a power hungry lunatic.”

A smile spread across Dream’s face at Michael’s words. “A lunatic, huh?”

“You manipulated Uncle Wilbur, you tortured Uncle Tommy… you betrayed my father all because you want power! You want control over people, freeing me would have you lose the only shred of control you have left on this server, so why would you?”

“You’re a smart kid, you know that?” Dream said casually, rolling up his sleeves. “So smart…” He reached into his bag, grabbing a pair of shears that looked worn. There were initials on the leather cover that Michael couldn’t strain his eyes to see. Dream uncovered the shears, walking over toward the piglin and resting an arm on the teenager’s right side, trapping him.

Something churned in the piglin’s stomach. “What… what are you…?”

“Tell me, smart kid, do you know what it feels like to die? To feel nothing but neverending agony? To choke on your own blood as you beg for relief and warmth only to find yourself becoming colder and colder, not being able to move or even scream?”

Michael couldn’t help the fear that traveled up his spine. “I…I-”

“I wonder… would you like to find out?” The sharp end of the scissors was quickly set near the bottom of the piglin’s neck. It freaked Michael out - how calm Dream was about it all, how serious he sounded. Was he really going to kill him? The question sent his mind racing, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he felt like a trapped sheep in a wolf’s grasp. He wanted to run but he couldn’t.

“I...I just-”

“Do you know what canon lives are, Michael?” Dream asked smoothly, as if he was telling the teenager about the terrible weather. The words seemed familiar to the piglin but for some reason he was so stressed it was hard to remember anything specific. His parents never really talked about it much and usually tried to avoid the topic.

Michael thickly swallowed, acutely aware of the sharp blade against his skin. “No… no I don’t think-”

Of all the things he expected to happen in his situation, he certainly didn’t expect for the masked man to go into a small laughing fit over his answer. Michael struggled to find what exactly was funny, and a small pit of rage began to boil in his stomach, temporarily distracting the zombie piglin from the fear that the green blob seemed to pull out of him. So what if he didn’t know what those are?! Why does he care?! “Oh, I knew they couldn’t have told you everything…”

“What… what do you mean?”

“You see Michael, when someone dies they use up a canon life and respawn, until… well… they can’t anymore. Everyone has three, but a few have been used up over the years, at least when I was around.” Michael could see the beginnings of a smirk poke out from underneath Dream’s mask. “You’ve never respawned, have you?! All three lives, no deaths… oh, this could be fun…”

What… what the fuck was he suggesting?!

“Your choice - Tell me where the armor is now, or I’m going to kill you.”

The zombie piglin nervously looked around for any kind of out, something to stall. He couldn’t give up the location - Dad told him explicitly that he couldn’t reveal the location to anyone, no matter the circumstances.

Tubbo held Michael’s hands firmly in his own. “It’s evil, Michael. It used to belong to a very bad person, and he hurt a lot of people. We have to contain that evil here, for everyone’s sake. If this got into the wrong hands…” His father trailed off, not bothering to finish.

“I promise, Dad. I won’t let you down.”

Tubbo looked up at his son proudly, moving to cup his cheek with his hand fondly. “I know you won’t. You’re old enough and you’ve trained enough, you’ve earned my trust.”

He couldn’t let his father down, but…

“Five… four… three…” Dream huffed, getting impatient.

“You… you can’t just-!”

“Wrong answer.”

Michael’s memory was fuzzy after that - maybe it was because of the pain, or maybe it because he didn’t want to remember. He remembered… he remembered how his body trembled as Dream swiftly stabbed him in the chest with the shears, he remembered the tears going down his face as Dream tried to wedge the weapon deeper in the wound. And the pain… the pain was indescribable. Of course Michael had gotten hurt before - but arrows and zombie bites and broken bones could never compare to this, not by a long shot. Words left his lips so freely that he forgot exactly what he said, but when Dream twisted the scissors he whimpered.

He was mad at himself for crying and losing himself in front of his tormentor - he was giving him exactly what he wanted! Why did he just cry so easily?! Why was he being so… so weak?! He didn’t know exactly how or when the chair he was tied to flipped over, but he did remember shouting that seemed distant. He hit his head when he fell, adding to the throbbing dizziness in his skull. The pain hurt so much he wanted it to stop, please just let it stop...

He hadn’t even noticed the masked green blob left the room until a pair of dark purple eyes stared at him from the doorway. He felt himself tremble as the figure moved closer, and Michael squeezed his eyes shut, not willing to watch whatever that thing wanted to do to him next. After a tense moment of silence the piglin felt arms wrapped around him, pulling him close and his body relaxed into the touch, the familiar hum radiating throughout the stranger’s chest that always helped calm him. A hand reached up to scratch at his ears fondly, and Michael worked up the courage to open his eyes.

Two purple glowing eyes looked down at him, smiling and purring. The hair, the clothes… “Dad…?” Michael weakly croaked. The purple-eyed Ranboo smiled at him as he fondly patted his head. A loud noise erupted from his mouth, making Michael tense up in fear.

“⏚⏃⏚⊬.”

Upon seeing Michael’s distress, purple-eyed Ranboo quickly went back to sending calming purrs, holding his son’s head in his hands. Michael was so confused - what was that noise? More importantly, was his Dad okay? Ranboo’s hands drifted above the zombie piglin’s chest wound, a slight noise of discomfort coming from the back of his throat. He grit his teeth through the pain as he struggled to speak. “Dad, look, you… you gotta listen - Dream’s here, he’s gonna be back any second…”

The Ranboo-not-Ranboo’s head whipped toward the doorway at a loud crash, his grip increasing on the teenager slightly. Had his Dad even heard him? More strange noise erupted from his mouth, only increasing Michael’s concern. What was going on?

“⎅⏃⋏☌⟒⍀.”

Before Michael could ask what exactly that meant, with a ‘vwoop’ the purple-eyed Ranboo disappeared. Though Michael missed the warm comfort for his pulsing pain, part of him was glad. That means his Dad must’ve heard him, he was gonna warn the others and Dream wouldn’t hurt him, that was all that mattered. The other part felt like he was six years old again trapped in his own personal nightmare, begging for his father to come back and save him and hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright. Static began to fill his ears as a slow deep sleepiness began to take over. Tears pricked at the edges of Michael’s eyes, the pulsing, burning pain becoming too much.

Just let me rest...

The door slammed open. A scream echoed.

“MICHAEL!”

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

Foolish had never seen his son so scared in his entire life. He shot up, grasping for some kind of lifeline, and Foolish didn’t hesitate to pull him close. “Dad…”

“Shh, it’s okay little totemling. Dad’s right here.” His heart felt full as he hugged his son tightly, afraid that if he let go it would all just be a dream. His son, his son was alive and breathing, his son was right here in his arms, he was okay, it was all okay-! Wet tears slipped down his face before he had the time to notice them. The totem god’s gaze shifted up towards the totem statue. The statue glared down at him, expressionless, as if nothing else needed to be said.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

“There was… there were shadows everywhere,” Junior sobbed. “It was cold and so, so scary and I didn’t know where you were, and-!”

“I’m right here, Foolish. I’m right here. It…” Foolish hesitated. How could he explain this to him? How could he tell his son that he failed him? How could he face his son and tell him the truth, that his own father had killed him? Maybe some things were better left unsaid, some truths untold. Foolish couldn’t tell you whether he avoided it to spare his son’s emotions or his own, simply that he found that he just couldn’t. “It was all just a bad dream, don’t worry. I was just waiting for you to respawn.”

Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he’d tell him the truth later, but he couldn’t face it right now. He just couldn’t. Either way, what did it matter? He got a second chance, and this time he wasn’t going to mess up. Not again.

“Wait, where’s Dream?”

Foolish couldn’t help but tense hearing those words. “...What?”

“Where’s Dream? He just came back, I can’t leave him. He’s probably somewhere scared and alone, he probably thinks I died! I’m his only friend, I gotta-!” Junior shifted, moving to get out of his father’s grip.

“Foolish. Foolish, no.” The totem god said firmly. “Dream’s dangerous. He’s done horrible things, he’s hurt so many people back when he was alive, and I won’t have you be next.” Not again.

“But… but it’s been so long, maybe he’s changed! Maybe…”

“Foolish.”

“When Wilbur came back he changed, he became a good guy again! Dream’s been dead longer than him, he’s my friend he can’t… he’s not…”

“Dream used you against me when you stepped in front to protect him. Maybe his ghost was different, but… but he’s not a ghost anymore.”

Junior pulled away from his father’s embrace. “No, no that’s not true! You were the first one to attack him, he was just standing there, Dad! He just came back, he hadn’t done anything wrong, you assumed he did. You attacked for no reason.”

“Foolish you don’t understand, the things Dream’s done-”

“He’s been dead for 12 years, Dad! 12 years, and you don’t think he’s changed?! I thought you always believed in second chances, that everyone deserves a chance to do the right thing.” Junior stated. “You didn’t even give him a chance.”

“He’s killed countless people in cold blood-”

“Haven’t you?!”

Foolish’s face fell as he looked over his hands. Static filled his ears as his mind remembered every single detail, and for a moment he swore he could feel the warm, thick blood coating his hands. No, no no no… not now… He quickly clenched his hands tightly into fists, closing his eyes, trying to block it out before it flooded back, before…

He felt arms around his neck, a warm embrace. “It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m so sorry, I’m sorry-!”

As the feeling slowly faded, he opened his eyes, finding his son’s face red and puffy from crying. He mustered a small smile, both their anger long forgotten. “Hey, hey it’s okay… I told you I’m not going anywhere, right?”

“You were… you were turning into the… I’m so sorry…” Junior’s voice was soft and quiet.

“You don’t need to be, it’s not your fault…” Foolish reassured. “You’re right. You’re right, I’ve… I’ve done horrible things too. I just don’t want him to hurt you. I want to protect you, you know that right?”

“I know.”

Junior yawned, and Foolish smiled warmly.

“Come, my little totemling. You look tired.” Foolish said, scooping up the young teenager in his arms and walking toward his son’s room. Junior tiredly smiled.

“I love you, Dad.”

Foolish leaned down and gave his son a small forehead kiss. “I love you too, Foolish. No matter what.”

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

“Shit, shit shit shit shit…” Tubbo mumbled, his hands shaking as he rushed over to his son, noticing the large gash in his chest. He fumbled for his bag, desperately trying to find a potion of harming.

Regen, healing, strength, swiftness…

“Fuck.” Tubbo cursed under his breath, throwing aside his satchel and rushing over toward the drawers, pulling them open, throwing things to the ground in reckless abandon. What happened to the potions?! They always had extra, then extra for the extra! He and Ranboo were always prepared, they knew how hard harming potions were to make, so where was it?!

A loud crash ripped through the halls as Enderwalk Ranboo crashed through the wooden wall of the room, wooden splinters flying everywhere. Enderwalk huffed as he staggered trying to get to his feet, letting out a loud hiss as Dream walked through the new hole in the wall, his sword out, red staining his green hoodie. He looked over the scene, catching his breath.

“Oh, you guys wanted to pull one over on me, huh?! Throw the enderman freak on me, grab Michael and leave?”

Tubbo moved to be closer to Michael, pulling out his own sword protectively as Enderwalk moved in front of both, ignoring his own slashes and blood dripping to the floor. Enderwalk Ranboo screeched, almost daring the masked man to come toward his family. Tubbo’s gaze was focused on Dream, looking him over. “Yeah, something like that. Great plan, isn’t it?”

“Actually,” Dream let out a small cough, smirking. “Actually it’s pretty stupid.”

“I’d disagree, since we have Michael, and from the looks of it, you don’t have your precious armor.”

“Oh Tubbo, all these years and you’ve learned nothing… I always have other plans.”

Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “What do you-?”

“Looking for this?” Dream smiled, holding up a glimmering potion of harming. Enderwalk was ready to pounce, looking over at Tubbo who stood up, sword raised. “Nuh-uh-uh. Try to take it from me and I’ll smash it on the floor. All of them.” Dream moved to open the flap of his bag slightly to reveal more potions of harming. Tubbo’s face fell - all the extras, everything…

Enderwalk looked back at Tubbo, head tilted in confusion as Tubbo signaled for him to stand down. Tubbo took a deep breath - he hated this. He hated that once again, he hadn’t thought everything through, he hated that once again he failed, and most of all he hated that fact that as of this moment, his son’s life was in that green psycho's hands. Enderwalk turned to hold Michael close once again, nuzzling him and getting worried and sad when he didn’t respond. “What do you want for it?”

“You know what I want.” Dream said coldly. “I’d hurry if I were you, or it’ll be Michael’s first cannon life.”

Tubbo promised himself he wouldn’t ever subject his son to that kind of pain, that he’d protect him no matter what. He let out a defeated sigh. “Second portrait on the left in the entryway. It’s behind the painting.” Tubbo held out his hand. “Now give me the potion.”

“Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo… never change. Once an idiot, always an idiot, isn’t it?” Dream tossed the potion bottle over, which Tubbo quickly caught as the masked man turned and walked out of the room. Tubbo quickly rushed over toward his son, putting the potion bottle to his lips. They didn’t have much time.

Of course, it wouldn’t heal much, but it certainly was better than nothing. He looked over toward Enderwalk, gears turning in his head trying to make sure he spoke clearly enough to be understood. “⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀, ☌⟒⏁ ⏚⏃⋏⎅⏃☌⟒⌇.”

Enderwalk nodded, rushing over toward the drawers, grabbing some bandages and handing them over to Tubbo, who set down the empty potion bottle. Enderwalk looked down at Michael as Tubbo worked, focused. “⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⏃⌇⌰⟒⟒⌿. ⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⍜☍⏃⊬?”

“⌿⏃⟟⋏ ⊑⎍⍀⏁ ⏁⍜⍜ ⋔⎍☊⊑. ⌿⍜⏁⟟⍜⋏ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅.”

Enderwalk reached to scratch and pat behind Michael’s ears. Tubbo tightened the bandages as Michael stirred. “...Dad…?”

“Michael, thank gods you’re alright!” Tubbo moved to hug his son, Enderwalk joining in, purring happily at the reunion.

“What… what happened? Where’s Dream?”

No time. “Busy. Michael, can you move..?”

Michael shifted to sit, feeling sore, tired. Small pulses of pain still wracked his body that he ignored. He moved his leg slightly, testing the waters. “I… I think so…?”

“Good. Okay.” Tubbo got up, holding out his hand and helping his son stand on shaky hooves. “I need you to run. Run toward Uncle Tommy’s.”

“Wait, what? N-no, I’m not leaving you!”

“This isn’t a choice, Michael. You have to go. Now. Before he comes back.”

“But-”

Tubbo’s hands gently squeezed his son’s. “No matter what you hear or what happens, don’t stop. Don’t stop until you’re at Uncle Tommy’s and you’re safe, okay?”

“But what about you and Dad? What about Dream?”

“Don’t worry, we’ve held our own this long. We’ll meet you at Uncle Tommy’s soon, but you have to get there and get safe, okay? Don’t look back, just get there. You can do that for me, right?” Tubbo’s forehead gently bonked Michael’s. “Remember the time we got caught in the forest just as the sun was coming down?”

“Yeah. I was so scared I couldn’t move. It was my first time out at night.”

“Remember, I took your hand like this…” Tubbo slowly rubbed circles into the back of Michael’s palm. “And told you that you didn’t have to be scared, that I was gonna be right there with you. All the scary monsters, you didn’t need to be afraid because as long as you kept running, nothing could get you.”

“Dad, I don’t know if I-”

“Yes you can. I know you can, Michael. Run as fast as your hooves can carry you, I know you can do it. I know you can be brave.” Tubbo encouraged. “Get there, your father and I will be right behind you. I promise.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, Michael.”

“⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⍜☍⏃⊬! ⍙⊑⊬ ⏚⏃⏚⊬ ⌇⏃⎅?”

Enderwalk nuzzled with Michael as a few tears spilled down the piglin’s cheeks, and he laughed, smiling. “I love you too, Dad!”

Quickly, giving his parents one last look, Michael dashed into the hallway, heading toward the balcony and jumping down into the courtyard, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he ran through the trees toward the icy tundra. Tubbo wiped away his tears as he looked over toward his purple-eyed husband.

“⏚⏃⏚⊬...?”

Tubbo cupped Enderwalk’s cheek as the enderman snuggled into the embrace. “⋔⟟☊⊑⏃⟒⌰ ⋏⍜⏁ ⌇⏃⎎⟒ ⊑⟒⍀⟒. ☌⍜⟟⋏☌ ⏁⍜ ⌇⏃⎎⟒ ⌿⌰⏃☊⟒.”

Enderwalk looked into Tubbo’s eyes and nodded in understanding. He moved to hold Tubbo’s face in his hands as Tubbo stilled, confused for a moment before Enderwalk pulled him down to the floor in a tight hug. Surprised at first, Tubbo returned the gesture. A loud crash erupted from below the two, followed by loud angry yells that sent shivers up Enderwalk’s spine and made him tense up.

“WHERE IS IT?!”

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

“The flowers are really pretty today.” Ghostie smiled as he kneeled down in the daisy flower field, callused and rough hands moving to gently caress a flower.

“Yeah, spring’s coming.” Junior smiled, sitting down next to his friend.

“Spring…?”

“You… wait a minute, you’ve never seen spring before?!”

The ghost considered his friend's words for a moment, searching his own memory. “No, I… I don’t think I remember spring.” He smiled excitedly, a childlike curiosity in his eyes. “What’s it like?”

Junior settled down next to his friend, moving to pluck a flower. “Well, it’s warm, like… like hot chocolate, and flowers come back… it’s like the entire world comes alive again.” As Junior spoke, Ghostie pushed his green hood back and looked up towards the bright blue sky, noticing a small butterfly float past. His heart felt light, it was perfectly warm and bright, and something about everything around him made a smile appear on his face. “It’s perfect.”

“Oh, by the way, I’ve got something for you.” Foolish Junior smiled, reaching into his bag and pulling out a small piece of different colors of braided thread - a lime green and two different shades of blue with a small white shell at the bottom. He held it out to Ghostie. “Now we’re officially best friends!”

“What is it…?” Ghostie asked, staring down at the foreign object laid in his palm.

“It’s a friendship bracelet!” Junior beamed, pulling out a similar yellow with the same two shades of blue. When his ghost friend didn’t respond or understand when he pointed it out, just staring up at him confused, he moved to explain. “You wear it on your wrist to show that we’re friends. See? It matches mine.” The twelve year old held up his own bracelet to show his ghost friend.

“Were… were we not friends before…?”

“Of course we were, Ghostie!” Foolish Junior exclaimed. “You’re my best ghost friend in the world, after all.” He reassured his friend. “I just wanted to make it for you because I thought you’d like it. Tubbo was telling me this story the other day about these special compasses, and… and I wanted to make sure that even if we’re not always together, we’ll still have a part of each other, you know?”

“It’s pretty. Like the flowers.” Ghostie smiled. “I love it.”

“Here, let me show you how to put it on…”

Foolish Junior heard talking just beyond his room as he packed, hearing his Uncle Eret downstairs. For a second, his mind wandered to what they could possibly be talking about. After all, it was just a simple respawn. He wasn’t that hurt, Ghostie got brought back… everything was perfect! Everything was supposed to be absolutely perfect.

So why wasn’t it? The whispers and hushed tones, the way his father looked at him, clung to him in a vice grip… it wasn’t right. He wasn’t right. He knew his father wasn’t right about Ghostie, or… or was he Dream now…? Dream. It didn’t sound right, it didn’t fit him as well as ‘Ghostie’ did. The name felt so foreign on his tongue. But, if that’s what his friend wanted…

The teenager stilled as his gaze settled on the abandoned green and blue friendship bracelet left on his nightstand. He remembered how Ghostie held it with the utmost care when he handed it to him to take - “Make sure to give it back once the ritual’s all done. I don’t wanna get it dirty.” Junior remembered so clearly how Ghostie looked at him when he wasn’t transparent anymore.he called out for him with a smile, and his best friend simply turned around without saying a single word, looking around the forest.

After a moment of hesitation, he slid on Ghostie’s bracelet next to his own. He’ll give it back, he’ll reunite with Ghostie and introduce him to everyone and they’d understand. Then, they’d finally get to go swimming together like they always wanted to. They’d be together again.

All he had to do was find him.

You whisper to Dream: Meet me by the flower field tonight once the sun goes down. Be safe. We’ve gotta talk.

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

As his husband held his head in agony, Tubbo was quick to steady him, resting his head against his shoulder. He gently held him, adapting as he shifted every now and then. Worried thoughts filled Tubbo's head as he couldn’t help but think of the worst - it had after all been years since Ranboo had forced himself to go into that state. He was the one who pushed him, all for his plan, his 'big' plan. Eventually, Tubbo found the voice to speak. “You there, Boo?”

“I... forgot how dizzying it is…” Ranboo let out a pained chuckle against his husband’s shoulder. “How’d I do?”

“Amazing,” Tubbo smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. A few tears slid down his cheeks as he softly laughed. “Absolutely amazing.”

“Michael okay?”

“Dream roughed him up a little badly,” Tubbo sniffed, moving his hand up to wipe away his tears. “I patched him up, gave him a potion and sent him on his way toward Tommy’s.”

“That’s good.” Ranboo moved to sit up fully, holding Tubbo’s hand in his to comfort him. His smile never left his face. “So, what’s the plan now?”

“Well, Dream always told us what would happen if we crossed him.” Tubbo looked up at Ranboo. “Do you wanna come with me and find out?”

The enderman smirked playfully. “Aw, don’t tell me you tricked the poor thing…?”

“I do learn from the best.” Tubbo smiled. The door slammed open once more to reveal a very angry and pissed off Dream. Slowly, he walked over toward the couple, a golden axe drawn.

“Tubbo.” He growled.

"Dream." Tubbo smiled. "Did you find the armor?" A pair of netherite boots fell to the floor with a 'clang', the noise like thunder in the silent tense room.

“Where’s the rest of it?!”

“What, don't you like the boots?”

Dream pounced, tackling Tubbo to the ground and slowly pushing the axe blade up toward Tubbo’s neck. “Start talking you little shit.”

“Did you honestly think we’d hide all your precious armor and weapons in one spot?! Do you think after twelve years we’d still be that stupid?!” With Tubbo’s words, Dream looked like he was slapped, anger only building and rising the more he thought it over, the more he realized his mistake.

A mistake. He didn't make mistakes.

“We’ve buried them and hid the locations all around the SMP, just in case someone like you ever showed up again and tried to take us down.” Tubbo explained. “Good luck on finding the others, going through everyone on the SMP, digging through all that dirt… not to mention that as we speak Michael’s running to warn the others about you.” Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re trapped.”

He didn't make mistakes. He didn't get trapped. He was always smarter, always faster, always in control. Why wasn't he in control?!

“Checkmate, Dream.” Tubbo spat.

The words sparked a flame within Dream’s stomach, igniting his anger and destructive spirit. Choked breathing filled the room as Dream wrapped his hands around Tubbo’s throat and squeezed. How dare he… HOW DARE HE TRICK HIM?! He saw red as he slammed Tubbo’s head back down against the wooden floor, staining it crimson. Ranboo yelled and screamed in the background until Tubbo was still as a stone, unconscious.

“Get away from him!” Ranboo yelled, grabbing his sword and moving to strike. A quick slash of Dream’s yellow axe sent him to the floor as well. Struggling to keep awake, Ranboo crawled, each movement feeling like fire as it combined with his older injuries, his blood dripping to the floor. Dream watched Ranboo a moment, relishing in his struggle, the blood bringing him a deep satisfaction. Slowly, ever so slowly, he begins to walk over toward the enderman, his golden axe dripping with blood.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you guys to be so sharp after all these years… but you’re still making the same mistakes.” Dream said with an oddly calm and cold tone. “You three always underestimate me. You underestimated me then, and you’re still doing it now to make yourselves feel better, to feel like you’ve won. But you haven’t.” Dream kneeled down in front of the enderman, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling his face to look at his. “I’m going to win eventually. After all, I waited a hundred and forty-four years to get out of that hell hole you three put me in. If you think a small slip up is all it takes to stop me and the plans I have…" The last thing that rang in Ranboo's head before he passed out was Dream's crazed laughter.

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

General Writing Taglist (Tell me if you'd like to be added or removed):

@bonesposts

(Also, I believe @yellowhearthero wanted some protective enderboo, so here you go! :D)

62 notes · View notes

mintenochian · 4 years

Text

what other people want added to Minecraft: g u n s

what I want added to Minecraft

•Birds

-For multiple biomes, but mainly for the forests.

-Songbirds would add SO MUCH life to the otherwise quiet areas of the game

-Ravens and crows would be awesome and could use some of the parrot mimicking AI

-Cardinals in the snow biomes would bring a GORGEOUS pop of colour into the white atmosphere

-Seriously we need something to populate the sky, parrots do NOT fly like they should

-nests in trees, can find eggs in them

-doesn't really add a use but fun new feather types would be cool

•Owls

-technically still a bird but would go really well in covered rooftop forests and snow biomes

-we're already getting larger avians added in the form of vultures so why not more large birds?

•Mice and / or rats

-absolute precious babies

-sadly would go well with owls :(

-with cave update coming we need adorable rodents scurrying around

-lil bastards could make mouseholes inside of blocks

-will they be tameable? idk.

-adds the necessity for cheese

•Deer

-MOJANG this is a MUST, this is a NEED

-You literally have pigs, chickens, cows, and sheep spawning in forests what the fuck

-Deer with spotty baby fawns??? Yes

-Young bucks with different stages of antler growth? Yes

-Fawns frolicking in flower forests bc they feel safe

-Stripped wood appearing on trees where bucks scrape velvet off their antlers

-Being able to collect sets of antlers when they fall off periodically (would NOT be attainable by killing the deer, you have to wait for them to shed)

•Elk and Moose

-Same vein as deer

-Bigger, much bigger, neutral instead of passive, less shy

-Snowy biomes

-Better additions than fucking llamas tyvm

-Sidenote but savannahs could also really use some endangered deer-like species to help raise awareness for their status

•Squirrels

-Mojang plz

-Adds nuts to Minecraft ;)

-Black, grey, red, and mixed colour squirrels and breeding

-Brings life to forests like songbirds and deer

•Bears

-Mojang bby you literally already have a neutral bear in Minecraft why have you not reskinned it for grizzly/brown/black bears?

-Bear caves

-Hibernating mobs

-Brings more use to the beehives and bees, bears could be attracted to any area that has more than one bee hive with honey

•WOLVES AND DOGS

-They NEED the ocelots and cats update

-More wolf types (red, timber, snow, black, etc)

-Actual wolf packs (the AI would be difficult to program but the doges are worth it)

-Please let the howl at the moon, if foxes get to say ringdingding all night long wolves deserve to be allowed to howl

-More dog breeds (I know that there's no reason for domesticated dog breeds in Minecraft but ACTUALLY THERE IS)

-Hunting dogs like springers that can jump and run faster

-Foxhounds :D

-Most Important Goodest Boy: Herding dogs like collies and sheepdogs

-Herding dogs could be found in plains where cows and sheep spawn and create herds

-LET DOGS LAY DOWN FOR FUCKS SAKE

•Herding

-Instead of having to pen up and enclose your livestock you could form herds of cows and sheep

-Your Goodest Boi herding dog would protect them and move around with them when they graze

-Just soft peaceful minecraft tingz

•Salt licks

-Something SO SMALL but would make SO MUCH HAPPINESS

-Drawing new cows into your herd by putting up a salt lick

-I'm soft

-I guess salt would be a new ore???

•Bird feeders

-idk I think it would be cool

-excess seeds used for SOMETHING

•Raccoons

-The coolness of wolves, the chaos of foxes, the cunning of cats

-thumbs

-be gay do crimes

-can open chests (trigger trap chests to catch them?)

-Fantastic little shits

-Not tameable but will trust players like foxes do

•Snakes

-I know it's a lot to ask and it would be hard to make them look good

-But??? Imagine a tiny lil garter snake in your garden

-unlikely but would be so fantastic

•Rope

-climeable

-please Mojang we need this so badly

-imagine the ships? The bridges? The bell towers and everything?

-super easy to add, just reskin vines and add a string crafting recipie

•Butterflies and Moths

-Bflies could be a unique mob to flower forests and friends with bees

-if moobloom is added they would all be BEST BUDS

-get it "buds" ahahaha

-help with flower polination but just gives a TON of life to flower forests

-We literally have lanterns in minecraft why do we NOT have moths? Such a cool aesthetic addition.

-helps fill both the daytime and nighttime sky

•Hummingbirds

-fourth member of BEST BUDS

-just soft baby

-i love birbs okay

-the only avian who does not work for the bourgeoisie

•Fireflies

-10 million of them please

-they give great hugs

-adds so much atmosphere to the night world

•Cheese

-We have milk

-We have, presumably, goat milk

-Quit being cowards and add butter and cheese

-Butter churn job block for villagers

-V funny bc they have no arms to churn with?? Oh well

•Seashells

-Something decorative and beautiful that could 1) liven up beaches and 2) have snails and crabs inside!

-Mojang plz do not add sand dollars to the game people already don't know how to tell if they're still alive before trying to take them home

•Whales

-WHALES.

-Imagine something as massive as the ender dragon but peaceful. Allows you to stand on them (idk how but make it happen Jeb)

-WHALE SONGS.

-Being so deep and far out into the ocean, and when the moon is high in the sky and you're sitting in your boat, you just hear the beautiful melancholy sounds of the whales in the distance

•Jellyfish

-Idk if y'all know this but the glow squid is a bad idea

-Dream buddy you fucked up, please use your influence to get in contact with Mojang and have them redo the vote. People would have so much regained respect for you if you tried to fix your mistake.

-Also why does a speedrunner get to tell millions of people what mob would bring more life to Minecraft? He's only playing the game for 5 minutes smh

-aNYWAYS

-Jellyfish could literally do everything the glow squid is going to and look better for it AND possibly be neutral instead of peaceful

•Orcas

-Not much to say but it would liven up the frozen water biomes a bit

•Penguins

-You already know why

-Imagine giving a new home to all the Club Penguin players? Legendary.

-Gender doesn't exist in Minecraft but we all know penguins would be hella gay

•Lobsters

-I think they would be cute

-You would NOT BE ABLE TO BOIL THEM ALIVE THANK YOU VERY MUCH

•Mermaids

-Never going to happen since passive mobs are generally real life animals but it would be so cool

•Otters

-they can hold hands

-brings life to the rivers

-super cute

•Frogs and possibly toads

-Swamp gods

-Absolute mad lads

-maybe grow from tadpoles

-wouldn't do much but needed

•Fairy Forests

-NOT Twilight Forests. Not a new dimension.

-Just gentle hidden groves in forests

-ADD FAIRY RING GENERATION TO MINECRAFT.

•Big cats

-Tigers, lions, bobcats, panthers

-Literally anything that could finally add a strong predator possibility to savannahs and jungles

•Zebras and Giraffes

-Shy and skittish

-cannot ride (their skeletal structure is NOT MADE FOR CARRYING HUMANS)

-Super cute tho, brings much needed life to savannahs

•Camels

-The better llama

-Can honestly just be a reskin

-brings much needed life to the desert

-spits and wears carpet and forms caravans like llamas

•Lemurs

-Easier to add to "jungles" than monkeys

-it would be really cool if we could just get a Rainforest biome

-King Julian stans awaken

•Red pandas

-we need them

-cuter than normal pandas and you can @ me

-better idea than sloths or koalas

•More Eldritch Horror Hostile Mobs

-Fun fact time

-The enchanting table language already has Lovecraftian references

-"phnglui mglwnafh cthulhu rlyeh wgahnagl fhtagn" is literally a quote from the enchanting table

-translates to "In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."

-Bet you didn't know that fun fact

-aNYWAYS add the Kraken to Minecraft instead of the shitty guardians. Thanks.

-imagine how cool it would be to see lights slowly extinguish as something terrifying and dangerous slowly moves in for the kill

-torches get extinguished and can get relit

-if not relit fast enough Something will be waiting

•Ice statues

-We have giant fossils and ship wrecks and cool stuff like that but please imagine finding a GIANT humanoid ice sculpture in an ice spikes biome

-maybe bones inside to show you that... That wasn't carved or naturally generated.

•Skeletons

-Not a mob but a decoration block

-Found in temples, mineshafts, and caves

-implied to be the remains of miners and explorers

-rare

-also implies that every skeleton you kill has some backstory since they look the same

•Constellations

-Not real world star maps but completely unique to Minecraft

-chance for LOTS of fun references

-The stars are your only companions in an apocalyptic world where you are the last of your kind

-Space is gay minecraft is gay thus minecraft space is gay

•Corn

-we have butter in this list

-we have salt in this list

-popcorn. That is all.

And finally

•Leeks

-mostly a joke but would be a cool crop

-100% a reference to Hatsune Miku the creator of Minecraft

DISCLAIMER: I recognize that mobs are added to Minecraft to serve a purpose within the game and that many of these mobs would be better in mods and such, but I also feel like many of these suggestions would really bring so much more life to parts of the game that really need it. Even if they don't serve a huge purpose, they would still be really amazing additions imo.

I would love to see the ideas and suggestions that other people have for what they want added to Minecraft, please TAG ME if you make a post like this, I wanna hear and read it!

#minecraft #cave update #caves and cliffs #mojang #minecraft update #minecraft ideas #video games #mcpe #mc #minecon #minecraft earth #minecraft dungeons #minecraft live #minecraft design #game design #mineblr

230 notes · View notes

dionyrtal · 4 years

Photo

THE SECRET OF A NIGHTMARE (SHORT FICTION)

Thick clouds stood in the sky like velvet curtains that had not been opened for years. It was certainly daytime, but the sun was nowhere to be seen. It stood there, in suspense among the clouds; merely a burning circle, like an old emperor’s fading golden glory into dust, yet it was enough for inducing a fiery havoc on earth.

With flickering fears behind her dull eyes stood she. She was ready to blame the weather for the ghastly feeling blossoming on her chest, battering her soul mercilessly like moths crashing their heads to light or time crumbling her frame, leaving deep lines on the skin. There was a musty smell of death and moldering fruits. The thirst climbing up her throat left her dazed, and her existence was suffering a moment of eclipse.

The sudden gurgle of water interrupted her fragile thoughts just as a gun bursting between the trees scares the birds on the branches, and their shrieks fill the gaps of mind with terror and secret desires. She turned around hoping to understand something. Her eyes wandered around nervously without recognizing anything. Her pulse was echoing in her veins, condensing the thick blood with confusion for the scene unfamiliar arose in front of her as if it erupted from a void inside the core of earth. The sharp symmetry of the garden in the middle of which she realized was standing was chilling: It seemed to reflect itself and create an eternal cycle of sameness. As nightingales were chanting their sorrowful tunes to attract a lover, and a ghost of Elysian meadows was silently lingering over the dark land, she felt the garden closing around her bones.

Stretching wide plain was filled with pine trees that were trying to tear sky’s never-ending twilight. The vines coiling over the roots of pines were suffocating as when bees crush each other’s honey covered mouths in their hot hives, or when violent desert winds exert all its power on the lonely tree and dry it. Pieces of woods were scattered around, and flies were clustered on something appalling. The image of the wooden house, with its ruined windows and broken wine bottles lying around, resembled a daunted man unable to carry life on his shoulders like a burden. Entrance stairs covered with grass was a breathtaking sight.

Beholding this scene, she noticed three agile bodies standing apart from everything around them. Each of their movements was being washed with a gentle light, and it seemed as if their beauty intensified just like the beautiful flowers break the ground and greet the sun after the fruitful rains of spring bless their roots. Her heart burned and ached just by looking at them.

She felt her heart trembling when she saw a girl lying on a fluffy cloud, close enough to rub her lips to her hair. Her cheeks blushed with a new desire. “So strange a view,” she mumbled in her mind, the girl was floating so naturally. She immediately knew that the girl could create endless paradises with her single breath as her fingers played with the mist circling belly. Her hair was falling off her shoulders in tiny golden waves. The girl’s scent filled her nostrils with completeness, carrying her senses to a fading memory of her swallowing her mother’s strawberry jam with its warm foam sliding over her tongue. The taste was sweet, and it painted her lips with sublime shades. But as the excessive savory taste blocks the senses in hot summer days, her dazzling beauty made her sick.

“Go ahead and embrace your lover,” the girl said to her. She startled. The girl laughed and everything felt fleeting under her feet.

“Go ahead and embrace your lover,” the girl insisted. “He has been waiting for you.”

She stumbled upon the stones, but now she was able to see everything. A man was standing naked between two girls and his brown skin was sparkling while these girls were pouring water with buckets on his body. His jaw clenched while each cold drop was traversing his burning veins just as a river shivers when the ice from mountain tops melts into its core. The most horrid thing in this carnal lunacy was that he did not have a sexual organ. He was pitching his legs together, looking with a fragile cry in his eyes. He then looked at her, and she felt the familiar feeling in his eyes piercing her chest, ripping apart her heart. Tears rushed into her eyes like rain clouds leaning against the sky, and everything attacked her mind with vile arms. “Come to me,” he begged. His voice was on the verge of breaking into million pieces, there was no place to hide. She screamed and screamed, hoping to tear asunder every bone and every sorrow. Nothing flinched except for the ringing laughter of the girl on the cloud echoed in the woods.

Before she ran, she sensed. She sensed three shadows chasing her, stretching their pointy teeth and dirty nails to tear her dress. The soft touch of grass pounded violently in her ears; the fear of being captured drummed in her temples and shook her body like a hollow coffin. Black lines behind their blue pale eyes blurred her mind, but she was so scared that she could not notice they were little kids praising their gods. Somehow, she managed to leave them behind and took refuge in another ruin.

Darkness covered her lashes and the stroking whispers of the wind soothed her. Everything blended into dreary nothingness. A cold wet hand clasped her shoulder, and everything was over.

She turned around to meet her lover, standing at the same spot. The laughter was there, the man was shivering, the water creeped around her feet. The voice was definite.

“Welcome,” it said. “Face your nightmare.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! I WROTE THIS STORY BASED ON MY NIGHTMARE AND TRIED TO MAKE IT AS VIVID AS POSSIBLE FOR YOU. MUCH LOVE, DION. X

#writeblr #dark academia #short story #writing community #dionyrtal #nightmare

78 notes · View notes

dotwpod · 9 months

Text

(283) August Independent Music Special Pt. 1

Disciples!!Wow – August sure went fast, didn’t it? Well, the good news is that we have a new Independent Music Special quicker – at least it feels that way. We have all sorts of goodies released in August, and this is the first of two. This episode brings the ‘Rock-to-Heavier’ bunch out, and Part II will have the EVEN HEAVIER releases in it. So, MASH that play/download button, and give your ears…

View On WordPress

0 notes

metalshockfinland · 11 months

Text

BEES MADE HONEY IN THE VEIN TREE Release New Single 'Threatening'

[photo: Dan Trautwein] BEES MADE HONEY IN THE VEIN TREE have unveiled the epic mesmerizing track ‘Threatening’ as the next single taken from the forthcoming new album “Aion”. The third full-length of the German psychedelic doom four-piece is slated for release on August 18, 2023 through Magnetic Eye Records, the pre-sale is available at THIS LOCATION! The 12:05 min. track ‘Threatening’ is now…

View On WordPress

#BEES MADE HONEY IN THE VEIN TREE

0 notes

thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 4 years

Text

True Heaven

Summary: Dean wakes up from a dream about heaven. As he goes about his day, he realizes what his true heaven looks like.

AO3

The sun was beating down on him but he felt no heat, just warmth. Everything was warm here.

The trees were tall and green. The sky was the bluest he had ever seen. The water trickling down the stream was as clear as glass.

It was heaven… or so they say.

Dean smiled to himself as he gazed at the view from the bridge in his memories. There was only one thing that could make this heaven truly his.

“Hey, Sammy,” he greeted, as he turned his head to see his smiling brother.

Sam stepped forward, arms open and Dean didn’t even hesitate to pull him into a hug.

Together, the two brothers looked out into their heaven, side-by-side, as they always have been.

It should feel right. His head was telling him it should be right. That this was his true heaven.

The sky.

The trees.

The bridge beneath his feet.

His baby brother by his side.

Yet, something still felt missing.

And there was a strange buzzing sound blaring in his ear.

Dean closed his eyes, trying to block it out. But, the sound kept going, refusing to stand down and give him peace.

Heaven shouldn’t be so loud like this...

With a gasp, Dean opened his eyes, heaving as the alarm on his phone continued to buzz him awake.

He was in bed. At home. Lying on soft sheets and pillows. The sun streaming in from the curtained windows.

He was okay. He wasn't dead. He was alive. Living. Breathing. Blood running through his veins.

His hand reached out to tap the ‘snooze’ button, silencing the buzzing for at least another ten minutes.

Still in a daze, Dean continued to lay in bed, blinking at the ceiling as he tried to hold on to the last vestiges of his dream.

He had died. He went to heaven, apparently. And heaven was different.

Bobby was there. Apparently, everyone else he knew and loved was there, too, though he didn't see them. He went for a long drive with Baby. Then, Sam had joined him. They were on a bridge, that same bridge from their first hunt together after Dad went missing.

Was that what heaven was like now? He wouldn’t know. Jack wouldn’t tell him – secretive kid.

“Dean! I heard your alarm! You better not still be in bed! We have plenty to do today!”

Dean smiled, shaking his head before sitting up and stretching. He could feel his muscles popping, his back twinging in that familiar ache.

Damn, he was getting old.

“I’m awake!” he called back as he moved the blankets aside.

He could smell the eggs and bacon.

Castiel was making breakfast.

Without wasting any more time, Dean slipped into comfy slippers and made his way down the stairs to the kitchen.

As a habit, his eyes roamed the simple beige wallpaper, the framed photos, the snug carpets, and the random pieces of furniture that didn’t match because they found them at different online listings.

Damn, he loved his house.

Lazily running a hand through his fair to give it some semblance of order, Dean entered the kitchen with a loud yawn.

“Morning, Cas,” he greeted, settling himself at the table where a mug of coffee already waited.

Their dog, Miracle, raised her head from her own breakfast to bounce up to him with a happy bark. He ran a hand through her fur, fondly scratching her favorite spots. Her tail wagged even faster in delight. She was getting on in years but was still the same beautiful and affectionate dog she was when Dean first found her.

“Good morning, Dean.”

Castiel turned his head away from the stove to flash him a smile before turning back to finish cooking.

With one hand still on Miracle’s fur, Dean lifted the mug to his lips and took a sip, letting out a contented sigh when he tasted the slightly bitter coffee. It warmed him up from his head to the tips of his toes as the caffeine woke his brain up.

He needed it today. Sam and Eileen were coming over tonight and there was a lot to get done around the house.

Plates of eggs and bacon were laid in front of him as well as an empty dish and a fork. Castiel passed him the salt and pepper shakers before sitting down across from Dean.

“Thanks.” Dean stabbed into the eggs and grabbed a couple of pieces of bacon.

Castiel hummed in response as he did the same.

Silently, the two men ate.

The forks clanged against the plates accompanied by the sounds of chewing. Every now and then, Miracle would whine, hoping to get a piece of bacon. (Dean snuck her a few when Castiel went to refill his coffee mug.)

Outside, birds sang their morning song and the squirrels chattered as they went about their business. Castiel said there was a nest of robins residing in the tree by their porch.

(He didn’t want Dean to cut the tree, even though it would give them plenty of space for a nice front garden.

“It’s their home, Dean!” he had insisted when Dean tried to argue his stance.

He had looked so distraught that Dean ended up giving in and leaving the tree alone.)

It had been five years since Castiel returned to the Winchesters from the Empty, graceless and human. Even if he was technically God now, Jack still had to make a deal – and the cost was Castiel’s grace. Castiel was no longer an angel and never would be again, even if he stole another angel’s grace. He was fully human, would live a mortal life, and would return to heaven as a human soul when he died.

After a close call with a vampire nest and almost dying from a nail in the back in Ohio (Sam managed to clear out the bodies, call 911, and get him to the hospital in time), Dean had decided, right there and then, that he was done hunting. He wanted stability.

He had his Free Will back and he was going to use it to create a new life for himself and Castiel. So, after looking around the area, he got a job as a mechanic at the town garage – he was always pretty good at fixing up cars. The money wasn’t much but at least it was legal this time. No more stealing credit cards and identity theft for him.

Not wanting to be a burden, Castiel applied for a part-time job at a convenience store. They had to forge his papers and create a new identity (Castiel insisted on taking Jimmy’s last name “Novak”, to honor his vessel) but that was the easy part. Because even though he had lived as a human before, the former angel still struggled with basic human needs. He’d forget that he needed to eat and would only be reminded if his stomach was growling and tightening in protest. And he’d forget to sleep until he lost consciousness while on his feet, wherever he was. But, soon, he got used to it, even if he found bathroom breaks so inconvenient.

For the first two years, Dean and Castiel continued to live at the bunker with Sam and Eileen, helping the couple with finding, researching, and solving cases.

Dean’s brother never truly left the hunting life. Sam was good at it and loved it more than Dean ever did. Besides, he had Eileen as a partner, this time, in more ways than one. They worked together like a well-oiled machine, Dean was loathed to admit. But, Sam was happy and Eileen took good care of him and always had his back – that was enough for the older Winchester.

Dean found the old farmhouse for sale at a cheap price three years ago. It was practically falling apart but still held a certain charm. Dean fell in love at first sight and when he showed it to Castiel, the former angel loved it, too. They bought it and fixed it up, renovating where they could. It took a year and all their manpower just to repair the roof, the front and back porch, and the kitchen.

When the farmhouse was ready and livable, Dean and Castiel officially moved out of the bunker and into their new home.

Dean continued to work as a mechanic, doing the best work for his clients and impressing the garage owner so much that he showed Dean the ropes of running the business. And he was an attentive student. Dean may not have graduated high school and gone to college like Sam but it didn’t mean he was uneducated. And he had even made friends with the other mechanics, learning their techniques and sharing his own. And, maybe someday, when he saved up enough, he could open his own garage.

Meanwhile, Castiel quit the convenience store when he discovered a Honey Farm nearby. He learned how to be a beekeeper – the bees always did fascinate him. He was good at it. He talked to the bees like he talked to people. Whether he could actually understand them or simply made up their conversations, it didn’t matter. He was a hoot among the older ladies and the kids.

(Sam and Eileen still lived at the bunker, finding it more convenient with all the resources they needed for hunts. When they weren’t on the road, they would come to dinner.

And, sometimes, even Jack popped in to say “hello.” Castiel always kept a box of Cookie Crunch cereal for him in the pantry.)

Their house was small. Their jobs were mundane. They had an everyday routine.

Their life was simple. But, it was theirs. Finally theirs.

“I’m going to the store after breakfast,” Castiel finally spoke up as he cleared his plate. “Do you have the list of things you need for dinner?”

“Yeah, it’s upstairs, I can grab it.”

“No need.” Castiel stood up to put his plate in the sink. “I’m going to get dressed so I'll get it. Where did you put it?”

“Dresser.”

Dean continued to eat while Castiel headed out of the kitchen, pausing for a few beats to fondly scratch behind Miracle’s ear. When he disappeared down the hallway, Dean tossed the last of the bacon to the dog before getting up and doing the dishes.

As he placed the last plate on the rack, Castiel returned to the kitchen, dressed in a polo shirt, jeans, sneakers, and a tan leather jacket. He had stopped wearing the trench coat a while ago, but the sight of him without still made Dean pause.

“I’ll be back in half an hour,” Castiel said.

Dean flicked the last of the water away before wiping his hands on a rag. “Okay. I’ll walk Miracle while you’re out.”

Castiel nodded. Then, he smiled shyly before leaning in and planting a chaste kiss on Dean’s lips.

“I’ll see you later.”

Dean squeezed his hand, offering a loving smile of his own. “See you later, Cas.”

Just like their life, their relationship was simple. Mundane, sometimes. But, if Dean was honest, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Gone were the days of one night stands and denials of how he felt. He was getting too old for all that. He had gone through hell and back (quite literally) plus purgatory. He deserved this, damnit.

Sure, Dean still had trouble expressing his feelings (thanks for that, Dad). He rarely even said the words that Castiel freely expressed. But, the advantage of them having their so-called profound bond was that he didn’t need to really say anything for his partner to know how he truly felt about him.

Castiel already knew. He had always known. And he didn’t expect Dean to change.

Besides, Dean was more of a man of action, anyway.

Miracle barked, looking up at him with excited puppy dog eyes. She was anxious to get out and walk and chase squirrels and get the occasional pets from excited kids.

“Alright, alright, give me a sec.”

Dean took one last sweep of the kitchen to ensure everything was fine before bounding up the stairs to the bedroom. He swapped his pajama pants for sweatpants and tugged on his worn brown leather jacket over his sleep shirt. (He could shower later.)

Downstairs, he grabbed his house keys, clipped Miracle’s leash to her collar, and led her out of the house, locking the door behind him.

Baby was still parked in her usual spot so Castiel must have taken the Corolla to the store. (He wouldn’t take the Impala out without Dean’s permission, anyway.)

The air was chilly but the sun was out and bright, making their walk pleasant. Miracle led the way, her head swiveling around as she sniffed the familiar surroundings. She chose a spot under a tree to do her business and Dean cleaned up after her. He tossed the bag into a nearby trash can before continuing on their way.

“Morning, Dean!”

He lifted a hand to greet their neighbor who was out on a morning walk. “Morning, James.”

He stopped for a few seconds to chat about the weather (“Nice weather we’re having”), about James’ wife and kids (“The missus told me Castiel gave her a large discount on a crate of honey. Thanks for that, it really means a lot”), and what Dean and Castiel’s plans were for the holidays (“It’s always nice to see family”).

Miracle began to whine and tug on her leash so Dean said his goodbyes and went on his way.

They stopped two more times, both for the neighborhood kids who were Miracle’s regular admirers. Little 5-year-old Emma who Miracle would stay still for as the little arms hugged her right. Then, there were the Ross triplets, who always had a treat for their furry friend. (This was why Castiel had been trying – but failing – to put her on a diet. She kept getting spoiled with treats!)

Once they made it to the end of their usual route, Dean gently tugged on her leash, signaling that it was time to return home.

The Corolla’s spot was still empty so Castiel hadn't returned yet.

Dean released Miracle from her leash and she immediately padded over to her pillow by the fireplace. Meanwhile, Dean went back upstairs and finally jumped into the shower.

By the time he was finished cleaning up and getting dressed, noises downstairs and a cooing of Miracle’s name indicated that Castiel was back from the store.

Dean made his way to the kitchen, pausing for a moment at the entrance to watch his partner put away the groceries. But, never one to miss a thing, Castiel turned to him and smiled.

“Hello, Dean. There was a sale on pie so I got you two.” He gestured to the kitchen table where two boxes sat.

Dean whistled, finally entering the kitchen to take a look. One box was labeled “apple” and the other “blueberry.”

“A man after my own heart, Cas!”

He took the few steps towards his partner, who was putting the meat in the freezer, and pecked his cheek in appreciation.

Castiel blushed, simply replying, “You’re welcome.”

With a happy grin, Dean helped put the rest of the groceries away. He didn’t need to start cooking until after lunch.

“By the way, Jody called while I was at the store,” Castiel said, putting a box of cereal away in the pantry. “She’s asking what we’re bringing to Thanksgiving.”

“I was thinking mac and cheese,” Dean replied as he folded up the grocery bags to be re-used for later.

“Claire’s cooking this year.”

“On second thought, maybe we should just bring the bird.”

“Dean.” Castiel was scolding but it was in a fond tone.

“The last time Claire cooked, Alex got to practice her nursing skills on us.”

“That was years ago.”

“My stomach has never forgotten, Cas.”

“It was her first time cooking, Dean. I’m sure she’s improved since then.”

Castiel always made good points.

“Fine. But we’re bringing our own Pepcid.”

Castiel simply chuckled in response.

After finishing with the groceries, they both went upstairs to get the guest room ready. Sam and Eileen always stayed the night. Castiel dusted while Dean changed the sheets to fresh ones and sprayed some air freshener to get rid of the dusty smell.

When that was done, they went back downstairs. Dean retreated to the living room to catch up on some of his shows. Meanwhile, Castiel picked up his book from the coffee table and went outside to the back porch to read the morning away. At some point, Miracle got up from her pillow to follow him outside.

At 11am, Castiel went back in and settled on the couch next to Dean.

“What should we have for lunch?” he asked, snuggling to his side.

“Maybe something light since we’re having a big dinner.” Dean placed an arm over his shoulder as he pursed his lips in thought. “PB&J?”

Castiel’s eyes practically sparkled at the suggestion of his favorite food in the entire world.

After lunch, Dean went back to his show and Castiel to his book. This time, both were in the living room. Miracle interrupted them at some point, begging Dean to play, to which he obliged and they played a half hour’s worth of fetch. Then, it was back to his show.

At 4 o’clock, Dean shut the T.V. off, Castiel marked his book, and Miracle napped, still exhausted from playtime.

The next two hours were a flurry of activity in the kitchen. Pasta simmered in the pot. Chicken baked in the oven. And leaves and veggies were chopped for a salad (because Sam would complain if there wasn’t some kind of healthy food on the table).

Dean liked cooking. And, don’t tell Sam, but he especially liked cooking for his brother. At the end of the day, Dean was still a big brother who wanted to take care of his baby brother, no matter how old they both were now. (But, even if he had a gun pointed at his head or was back at Hell’s gates, he would never confess to it.)

It was a little past six when the rumble of a car outside alerted them to their visitors. The table in the dining room was already set and the warm food arranged neatly by Dean.

Castiel opened the door and was immediately greeted with a hug from Eileen followed by Sam. Dean went out to meet them, practically jumping on his giant of a brother to receive a hug.

“Heya, Sammy!”

“Hi, Dean. The food smells great! I’m starving!”

They wasted no time settling into their respective seats and passing the food around. Sam and Eileen had brought a bottle of sparkling cider, which was opened and poured into everyone’s glasses.

“When did you guys get back?” Dean asked, passing the basket of dinner rolls to Castiel.

“Yesterday,” Sam answered, helping himself to a generous amount of salad. “We were pretty beat so we ended up sleeping until noon.”

“What was the case?” Castiel asked as he tore into his roll.

“Wendigo,” Eileen answered, pausing in cutting her chicken to sign. “In Iowa. It was luring kids from a small village to the forest. Took us three days.”

“Nice!” Dean signed. “Those bastards don’t stand a chance against Sam Winchester and Eileen Leahy!”

Everyone cheered, toasting to the success of the two hunters.

The conversation continued.

Dean shared updates on his work at the Garage and how he might be up for a promotion pretty soon. Castiel talked about his bees and how smart his co-workers were for their ideas of honey flavors.

As they finished up dinner, Sam loudly cleared his throat as he took Eileen's hand in his.

“So, uh, we have some news,” he began, flashing his girlfriend a look. She nodded at him, in encouragement. “And we wanted you two to be the first to know.”

Dean frowned. “This sounds serious. Is someone sick?”

The couple laughed.

“No, no, this is good news,” said Eileen.

Sam cleared his throat. “So… We wanted to tell you… that… we... well, Eileen… is… pregnant.”

The couple beamed while Dean almost choked on his wine.

“For real?!”

“Congratulations!” Castiel exclaimed.

Hugs were exchanged and Dean broke out a bottle of wine to celebrate his new status as Uncle.

“You should name it after me, Sammy!”

“Not a chance!”

Dean tried to act offended but he was much too happy to really argue.

Sam deserved this. He had a woman he loved, a job he was passionate about, and now a kid on the way. There was no doubt that he was going to be an amazing father. And Dean and Castiel would definitely be the favorite uncles.

After partaking in the apple pie for dessert, Sam volunteered to help Castiel with the dishes while Eileen spent quality time with Miracle.

Feeling stuffed and full of dinner and happiness, Dean took the opportunity to grab a beer and go out into the back porch for some fresh air. He leaned against the wooden column of the front porch, just taking it all in.

It was a peaceful night. The cicadas were loud, as always. An owl hooted from somewhere. Above, the clear evening sky was littered with bright stars, as if the heavens, too, were celebrating the addition of another Winchester in this world. Maybe they were. Jack would be aware of the news by now. Dean hoped he would come to visit soon. It had been a while and Castiel missed the kid. (Dean did, too, but don’t quote him on that.)

The door behind him opened and, soon, familiar arms wrapped around his waist.

“Hi.”

“Hey, angel.”

Castiel tucked his head on top of his shoulder. He was warm and Dean savored the feeling.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Just… thinking.”

“About?”

“How happy I am.”

Castiel hummed. “It is indeed happy news to find out you are having a nephew. A new addition to your family.”

“Our family, Cas,” he corrected, squeezing the hand at his stomach.

“Our family,” Castiel agreed.

Dean lifted the hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to the knuckles. “I had a weird dream last night. I just remembered it again.”

“Weird in what sense?”

“It was… heaven, I think. But, it also… wasn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Well… for one… you weren’t there.”

Damn, that was so cheesy. The apple pie life was making Dean soft.

But, then Castiel pressed an affectionate kiss to his temple and Dean was reminded why he didn’t mind the occasional softness so much anymore. (But, again, he wouldn’t admit it, even with a gun to his head.)

“But, I think my dream got it wrong,” he continued. “That wasn’t heaven. Not to me. My heaven is down here. With Sam. Eileen. Miracle. And everyone we found along the way.” He turned his head, meeting Castiel’s pretty blue eyes. “And, you, of course. There’s no heaven without you, Cas.”

“Dean…" Castiel's eyes sparkled with mischief. "You are getting better at expressing your feelings.”

Dean laughed, softly. “Yeah, well, it only took five years and the news that I’m gonna be an Uncle. So, don’t get used to this, Cas.”

Castiel’s arms tightened around him. “I’m sure Jack has turned heaven into a wonderful place again. But, promise me, Dean, that you won’t go there yet. Not until your hair turns gray and your skin turns wrinkly.”

Dean patted his hand. “I’ll do my best if you do the same for me.”

Castiel chuckled and kissed his cheek before pulling away. “Come inside, Dean.”

“Give me a few more minutes.”

“Okay.”

Dean kept his gaze on the sky as Castiel left.

It didn't take long for him to have company again.

“So, why are you out here and not in there?”

Dean laughed. “Heya, Sammy.”

Sam leaned on the column opposite him, clutching his own bottle of beer.

“Just thinking,” Dean repeated his answer. “Just… did you ever think we’d be this happy, Sam?”

“Honestly? No. But… we deserve it… right?”

“Yeah, we do!”

For a moment, they were silent, simply listening to the night sounds and enjoying the warmth in their stomachs brought by the beer.

Then, Sam broke the silence.

“So, I was also thinking…”

Dean met his brother’s gaze, curious.

“Since Eileen is pregnant, we’re probably gonna take a break from hunting.”

Dean’s brows rose. “Yeah? That’s good. Focus on the health of the mom and baby and all that jazz.”

Sam hummed. "We talked about moving out of the bunker and getting a house and everything. Maybe get married, officially.” Sam took another sip of beer. “But, cases don’t end just ‘cause a hunter takes a break, right?”

“Yeah…”

His baby brother wanted to get married. Dean couldn't be happier.

“So, remember one time when we talked about creating a Hunter’s Network out of the bunker? You know, to help other hunters. Provide them with resources they don’t need to literally sell their soul for?”

Dean nodded, recalling a conversation they had about it a long time ago, right around the time he decided to retire.

Sam’s eyes flickered with hope.

“Well, maybe we could get started on that… if you’re willing to still be a part of it, I mean. I get that you have a different life now and you don’t want to hunt anymore, but you’ll be mostly hands-off in the cases. And Cas has some angelic and holy knowledge that maybe we can write down and turn into some kind of guide… if he’s willing to help out. You don’t even have to come to the bunker, I can just come here and we can work on plans and-.”

“Sammy.”

Sam broke off, taking a sip of his beer and avoiding looking at Dean, as if he was afraid of the answer.

And, to be quite honest, Dean hadn’t thought about being involved in hunter life. But, it wasn’t like he was out of touch with it. He still listened to Sam’s stories of his hunts. He had conversations with Jody when she called to ask for advice on dealing with some creature. He and Castiel still had some books on the supernatural on the bookshelf in their bedroom. And, he can’t forget about the guns and knives and other hunting apparel stored in a box under their bed and in Baby’s trunk. Heck, he and Castiel still carried a flask of holy water with them!

Hunting would always be in his blood.

He may no longer want to be directly involved but, maybe he could still help.

“Sure, why not?” Dean finally answered.

Sam’s head jerked towards him in surprise. “Really?”

Dean shrugged. “I may not be holding the gun anymore but I can tell another hunter how to kill a vampire in ten different ways.”

“Dean…” Sam looked like he was about to start crying.

“Saving people, hunting things, that’s the family business, right?”

He held out his beer bottle again.

Sam smiled and met it with his own. “Yeah.”

The brothers drank to that promise.

And Dean coulnd't help but think that, in his own way, he had found his own heaven on earth.

#supernatural #destiel

19 notes · View notes

zoocoup · 1 year

Text

Walking Jesus (2023 Edition)

Cueing off one of my favorite songs of all time, “Walking With Jesus” by Spacemen 3/Jason Pierce, years back I started a collection of songs (it’s not a mix tape as there is no set order) I had socked away in my music library that have “Walk” or “Jesus” in the title. As people haven’t stopped making songs with either of these words in the title, I get to keep adding to it. Here it is at this point in time:

• “Walkin' With Jesus” / The Icarus Line • “And Jesus Said Unto Me” / Belles Will Ring • “Me And Jesus Don't Talk Anymore” / Beulah • “'Til Jesus Comes” / DJ Quik • “Jesus Christ/Up & Over We Go” / Neutral Milk Hotel • “Jesus For The Jugular” / The Veils • “Jesus Etc” / Wilco • “Went Walking” / Bosque Brown • “Walking Cloud” / Eels • “Walking Through Walls” / Jon Brion • “Walking the Cow” / T.V. On The Radio • “Walking with a Ghost” / The White Stripes • “The Step And The Walk” / The Duke Spirit • “Walk on the Fire” / Edith Frost • “Just a Closer Walk With Thee” / Johnny Cash & Bob Dylan • “Walk On By” / Isaac Hayes • “I Walk the Line” / Johnny Cash & Bob Dylan • “It's Hard to Walk Tall, When You're Small” / Morrissey • “I Walk Alone” / Music Go Music • “Walking With Jesus” / Spiritualized • “Jesus, She's A Good Girl” / Andy Shauf • “Will Jesus Wash the Bloodstains from Your Hands?” / Hazel Dickens • “Walking with Jesus (Live at the BBC)” / The Icarus Line • “Jesus's Blood Never Failed Me (Live at The Hideout)” / Jon Brion • “Jesus Fever” / Kurt Vile • “Walkin' With Jesus” / Spiritualized • “Jesus Just Left Chicago” / ZZ Top • “Jesus Thrill” / THE ACHARIS • “Drive Thru Jesus” / Dropper • “Jesus of Love” / lowercase roses • “The Jesus Demeanor” / Panda Riot • “Jesus Saves, I Spend” / St. Vincent • “Jesus Children Of America” / Stevie Wonder • “Jesus Is” / 2nd Chapter of Acts • “Walk In My Shoes” / Anthony Hamilton • “Every Night I Walk the Same Trail of Thought” / Bees Made Honey in the Vein Tree • “A Walk on the Outside” / The Black Angels • “Nature Walk” / Boyfriend Machine • “Walkie Talkie” / Brijean • “Walking” / the Cult of Lip • “Walk Away Renee” / Elliott Smith • “Night Walker” / FEELS • “took a walk” / free cake for every creature • “Walking On Sunshine” / Fucked Up • “the cock that walked” / Future Of The Left • “Sleepwalk” / The Horrors • “Walkaway” / Imperial Teen • “Walk Right Back” / Jamie Lidell • “Walk Tall” / Kele • “Walking Into The Sun” / La Luz • “Take A Walk” / The Nunnery • “Walk Me” / OHMME • “Walkie Talkie” / Palm • “Walk Backwards” / Papercuts • “Walked Through Fire” / Poise • “Walkin' In Glory” / Prince • “It's About That Walk” / Prince • “Walk Don't Walk” / Prince • “Walk All Day” / Sour Widows • “Walk up to your House” / SPELLLING • “Walk to the One You Love” / Twin Peaks • “Walk On, Yeah” / Unloved • “Walk” / UV-TV • “Walkaway” / Weaves • “Sleepwalking” / white widow • “Walkin' In LA” / Steve Earle & The Dukes Feat. Johnny Bush

#Walking With Jesus #jason pierce

0 notes

shoutoutstohumanity · 3 years

Text

Witchy Aesthetic

Okie so my friend and I made a huge list of things that give off our “signature” vibe so I figured why not share? Add on if you can think of any more :]

Seashells, honey, milk, tea, cinnamon, Pink Himalayan sea salt, pomegranates, willow trees, tree bark, mushrooms, lichen, moss, colored glass bottles, cats, ivy, the moon, stars, sundials, maps, star charts, musty old books, scrolls, bundt cakes, cloaks, grapes, wine glasses, baguettes, castle turrets, streams, smooth rocks, wicker baskets, picnics, owls, bats, dark oak wood, mosaics, sundresses, hats with a large brim, thunderstorms, wildflowers, bees, butterflies, wind chimes, grassy fields, wind, ice, big red umbrellas, a roaring fireplace, old crackly record music, ballgowns, beanbag chairs, glow in the dark stars, camping, fireworks, crowns, koi fish, frogs, amber, silver daggers, wolves, pressed leaves, dragonflies, bubbles, towels fresh out of the dryer, nutmeg, cloves, walnut shells, multicolored corn, caramelized orange slices, dark chocolate, blood, honeysuckle, dogwood, cloth bandages, apple trees, pies, Jupiter, Mars, Saturn, badgers, ravens, crows, feathers, wings, clouds, Icarus, violins, classical music, veins, bones, peacocks, broken windows, street lamps, dandelions, rain, oil lamps, moths, candles, fog, mist, swamps, teapots, three-legged stools, ferns, mint, succulents, egg shells, shadows, maple leaves, cherry blossoms, iron chains, crumbling brick walls, clay pots, and pearl necklaces, lavender, and citrus.

2 notes · View notes

love-and-anarchy-au · 3 years

Text

Love & Anarchy: Chapter 24

helloooooo, i know its monday xd but i decided to post three chapters this week, so i finish L&A’s second season part xd (besides, the first two weeks of january i’ll just post one chapter per week so). this chapter is KEY to everything that will happen later; is kinda short though xd. im not terrible at writing action scenes, neither awesome, but well, i did what i could xd. hope ya enjoy this chapter and see ya on wednesday! <3

ps: i did a pinterest moodboard for the au, so if you want to check it out, here it is <3

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @honey-hippie-harper @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @nobellrenaissance @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare @its-liiinh-cinder-official

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

Words:

11,827

Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

17 years old Alec

Don’t mess this up.

I won’t.

It was 7:30 A.M. on a Monday, which was also the first day of school of the semester. Gatlon’s Bridge, in addition to being covered with a thick fog, was overflowing with cars stuck in traffic, cars with diverse people, cars with children ecstatic with anxiety. The environment was populated by speakers, crying children, and occasional songs played at a volume not recommended if you intended to preserve your hearing, but beyond that, everything was calmly normal (if you could call that daily routine of Gatlon City).

For the moment.

It was no accident that traffic was jammed, not at all; it was an act completely planned and carried out by his Anarchist brothers, Leroy Flinn and Henry Bleach, or as they would be called from that moment on, Cyanide and Magma. Both were preventing the vehicles from moving forward with acids and spikes that punctured the wheels of the cars in a discreet way to postpone the onset of generalized panic, preventing them from getting to their destinations.

Forever.

It was no accident that the bridge was covered in a mist so thick it seemed tropical, not at all; it was a thoughtful and planned act, one Alec had asked from his Anarchist sister, Margot Climat, alias Tempest. Her powers seemed limitless, for the moment, and that's how Ace liked it. It was strange to see how her eyes changed color constantly, and how her eyes dipped when it rained, as if her irises were rainclouds as well. She hated that, so she covered her eyes with sunglasses; it didn't stop her cheeks from getting wet.

Alec was standing behind a tree on the coast of Gatlon’s River, hugging his helmet against his ribs. He was wearing a black and gold uniform, with the coat that James had given him and leather shoes, the kind he would only wear to go to mass (although he had stopped going a long time ago for different reasons). His hair was stuck to his skull, although it was useless since, with the helmet on, it would ruffle itself. He was rummaging for sugar (sour gummies helped him calm down a little bit) in his pocket when the walkie-talkie beeped.

“Ace? Ace? Do you copy?” Henry called through his own walkie-talkie.

Alec was regretting agreeing to use that as a mean of communication during the meeting.

He sighed.

“I am here, Magma. What do you need?”

Henry laughed, and his laughter sounded like metal needles colliding against a clock.

“Nothing, just wanted to check on you and ask you when we’ll be starting.”

Alec felt an almost irresistible urge to destroy that damn walkie-talkie and send everything to hell itself. Anxiety was almost as contagious as panic, and, when it came to Alec, it was fair to say it had a far worse effect. If the others were anxious, so was he, and that made him very irritable.

An irritated telekinetic could only lead to chaos.

The opposite of what he was looking for in that moment.

Breathe in and out, Ace. You’re no longer a nobody, you’re the voice of the voiceless. Use it wisely, James commanded in Alec’s mind.

He nodded. The walkie-talkie rang again.

“Anarchy, I'm ready; why don’t we just begin? I'm boreeeed,” Margot complained. Alec tightened his hold on his helmet.

“It isn't I who has to give the signal,” he replied, and switched channels until he was on Honey's. “Queen Bee, are you ready? Magma and Tempest are eager.”

The walkie-talkie made the same radio sounds, and it took two minutes for Honey to respond.

“Not yet,” she said; then, she corrected. “Now I am.”

Alec smiled and turned on all the channels simultaneously.

“Phase One begins now!” he announced, and that was when the orchestra of everyday urban sounds was interrupted by a deafening buzz.

Many, rather.

Hundreds, thousands, millions of bees, bumblebees and wasps, completely invaded the bridge and changed the course of the daily orchestra, to one of terror. The horns became screams, the cries intensified as more people joined the symphony, the cars accelerated and collided with others in what was the impulse to press the accelerator to escape that nightmare.

That was just the beginning.

The bees were denser than the fog itself; Gatlon’s Bridge seemed engulfed in a buzzing cloud, with stingers, stripes, stings, and small wings. Honey must be on the pedestrian side of the bridge, controlling her bumblebees and showing herself to the world as the Queen Bee, in her yellow and black sequined dress, her towering heels, and her makeup dripping like melted wax.

Alec felt like time was led in his veins; it seemed not to move at all.

He wanted, needed, to come in and help Honey prolong the chaos, the anarchy.

Patience, Julieta and James whispered.

After two minutes passed, and the bees dispersed, it was time to move on to the next phase.

“Phase Two, Tempest, go!”

“Finally,” she grumbled breathlessly.

A wild and uncontrollable wind hit the bridge, forming a tornado, strong enough to engulf the cars but not to destroy the bridge.

It was their turn.

The tornado spun around and around until it became a thread of fury and madness, filled with desperate cars and people. Like when an elastic band couldn’t be twisted anymore, the tornado freed all its prisoners and threw them into the river, where they were drowned in seconds, practically. The volume of the symphony of screams and cries increased, and that was the signal Alec was waiting for.

“Atomic Brain, Flower Power, ready to proceed?”

“More than ever!” yelled Bruce, stunning Alec.

“Let's do this,” he announced and took a deep breath.

The first time Alec flew, it was by mere accident.

They were on the river coast, as always, eating fries, as always, but this time, there was something… different. Alexandra was wearing a dress tighter to the body, James’ shirt had three loose buttons and he… felt free. He felt as if the wind could carry him anywhere, and he would not care, because he was made of atoms that were as free as his soul, and those atoms made him a free, free, free being.

Just like that, out of nowhere, his feet rose from the ground and his hands approached the sky, and he was so close to touching the stars, until ...

“ACE!”

Alexandra gave a hysterical squeak, while James tensed like a wire.

Alec landed gracefully, only for his friends to pounce on him and start killing him with questions. Alec could not answer any, nor could he at that moment, when he was about to jump into the river with the hope he would fly again, not to touch the sky, but to break the ground instead.

He could only wish the practice days with Alexandra and James would work out.

So he jumped, feeling his bones, his muscles, his clothes, feeling.

And he did not fall.

He rose and rose, meters above the river and the bridge, and stood there, breathing in and out, floating for a few moments, suspended by an invisible but tangible thread, staring at the tragic Gatlon’s Bridge, which seemed as if it were underwater, as its choir of agony became isolated, and the bees and acids and winds were a gray and black and yellow blur. It was a hideous, hideous, despicable bridge...

Destroy it.

Alec closed his eyes and, still feeling himself, spread his hands as if he could touch the bridge, and he imagined it. Beams, cement, glass, plastic, garbage, meat, bone, blood, exoskeletons, poison. Everything on that bridge throbbed, full of life, and felt so… manipulable.

Suddenly, he sensed vines wrapping around the main girders of the bridge. The vines were thick, and they put considerable pressure on the rafters. Alec felt the cement crack and the metal twist, little by little. In the girders by the opposite side of the bridge, atoms were beginning to disappear and reappear in amorphous and useless objects. The metal within the concrete pillars, present in one blink and absent the other. The bridge wobbled and looked at Alec, expectantly.

He was begging for him to destroy it.

Focus.

He collected each of his moments of contained rage throughout the years, piece by piece. When they murdered Julieta, an innocent girl, without any mercy. When they burned Alexandra, one more teenager. When James, a visionary anarchist, was poisoned. When they stoned every prodigy that ever walked the streets, doing nothing but existing.

When no one, not even God himself, did anything.

Alec's teeth gnashed. His brow furrowed.

All that fury, that helplessness, those screams stuck in his throat, were redirected to the bridge.

Gatlon’s Bridge shook, once, twice, five times. Cracks spread across the deck, thick cracks like the destroyed girders of the bridge, horizontal and vertical cracks. Cars and people fell into the cracks and tried to hold on to something but fell anyway. It was almost as if he had taken the screaming volume switch and turned it all the way up, to the point of stunning him, who was fifty meters away. He let the cracks spread like a virus, and suspended the bridge under his power for a few seconds. His hand was open and extended.

Do it.

He clenched his fist.

Alec released the bridge and gravity exerted its force. Cement, metal, sheet metal, steel, plastic, flesh, bone, blood and screams rushed into the water, pleasantly slow. The chorus of screaming rose a notch louder and pleased Alec's ears, like James’ piano melodies. Screams caressed his eardrums and he felt as if the ghosts of all the prodigies killed in the streets were cheering on him , and thanking him for avenging them. He never had been freer, happier, prouder of himself.

A proud laugh that could have easily been maniacal bubbled from his throat. Until that moment, he had not been aware of what he was capable of, of his full potential or all his… power. He felt more alive than ever, feeling the destruction and chaos around him; that chaos and destruction he longed for, like someone who wanted to buy something but didn’t not have enough money and must save and wait and persevere until they got it.

Revenge was exactly the same. Planning, patience and perseverance.

That was why there was nothing more delicious than a well-deserved revenge.

James had known that.

How lucky he was that he had passed on some of his wisdom!

Knowing everything he knew, he allowed himself to re-experiment with his powers. He used his mental hands to knock down a pillar. Another. Part of the board. It was like playing with wooden cubes, exactly that, only on a large scale.

He felt like a god.

How had he survived so long without that feeling? That of having all eyes on him, although he was only a point in the sky, that of being able to manipulate the world at will, that of being responsible for those who committed gruesome crimes received what they deserved, that of power. To be able to be, to be able to do, to be able to destroy, to be able to create. To be able to do everything.

He could do everything. Because he was a goddamn prodigy.

He laughed again, happier than ever.

Well done, Artino, congratulationed James.

His walkie-talkie beeped.

He took it with his left hand, and announced, empowered:

“Well done, Anarchists. Phase One of The Plan has been completed.”

The walkie-talkie hummed and Margot replied:

“Now it's time to kill those suckers.”

Alec smirked.

“Wait for it, Tempest. We may leave to get ready for Phase Two.”

Margot huffed.

“As you please, Anarchy.”

Alec put the walkie-talkie in his pocket.

And he went flying in the direction of the coast.

The other Anarchists did the same.

Leaving only chaos and destruction behind.

9 notes · View notes