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snowmist-hashira · 1 year

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Hello! You might know me though XD I hope you're having a good day/evening! <33

I've been seeing a couple of gorgeous fics about Muichiro x Tsuguko! Reader, so I was thinking of trying Muichiro x Ordinary Civilian! Reader this time hehe. It's up to you how you're gonna write this, so there's this young lady that Muichiro saves from a demon when she got lost in the woods and eventually she conveyed how much she finds him cute. Muichiro has never experienced this sort of thing, so he didnt mind when she asked if they can exchange letters. Their pacing in conversation was normal, except Muichiro wasn't the type to write too long and was straight to the point. Despite that he never fails to respond to her letters, there was a sense of wanting more like she wished he had been a little more dedicated to writing longer sentences but she realized she can't ask him that. Until one day, he stopped writing back and it took 2 weeks to hear from him again. She got really worried, and was scared that something bad might have happened to him and when she did hear from him again, he actually went to visit her house which surprised her. Eventually, she was teary eyed and a bit upset and scolded him that he should've responded to her instead of making her worry like that. Muichiro understood so he genuinely apologized. She notices how Muichiro seemed different from the first time they've met. It turns out, he's got his memories back and he's sorted out many things including his feelings for her. He admitted that when he saved her, he thought she was actually beautiful and she reminded him of the golden gingko tree. Muichiro never understood his feelings before and was new to this, but he didnt want to stop writing to her. As she was shocked at this and was trying her best to digest everything he said, he said he wanted this time to be near to her and keep her close. He wanted to see her everyday, so he asks if she could live with him. (I think the most suitable key phrases would be: "I fell in love with you.", "I regret my inconsistencies.", "I feel you even though we are apart.") Omg idk if this was too much, I wanted to provide specific details with the best I can 😭😭 I'm quite excited how this'll turn out, you're really such a wonderful writer 🥺🥺 I'll also lookout for your other chapter updates waahh sending you support and love 💜💜

[Chapter title: Unveiled in Letters]

[Requested] Muichiro Tokitou x Reader

Wattpad:[KNY Fanfiction] (One shots) Tokito Muichiro x Reader Archive:Kimetsu No Yaiba: Tokitou Muichiro x Reader Master list:♠ Information ♠ Word count: 2,276

Artist link: https://twitter.com/oekaki_eririn

I am open to requests for Muichiro x Reader content, and I also enjoy engaging in roleplays. If you're interested in either, please feel free to check out my pinned post for more information. ~ ♠ I have just returned from my trip, and I feel like I may have rushed this particular piece. I'm not sure if I was able to capture all the specific details accurately, so please forgive me if I missed anything. I hope that it still meets your expectations, and I appreciate your patience. Here is the result!

It happened in an instant, catching Y/n off guard. With the intention of taking a leisurely walk in the nearby forest for a change of scenery, she found herself losing her way amidst the dimly lit woods. As Y/n stumbled through the darkened woods, her heart pounding, she suddenly caught a glimpse of a sinister figure lurking among the trees. It was a demon, the tales of these flesh-devouring creatures, once dismissed as mere stories, suddenly felt all too real.

Frozen in terror, Y/n desperately searched for a way to escape, but her mind was clouded with panic. Her eyes fell upon the gruesome scene of blood and felt the unmistakable aura of hostility, a chill ran down Y/n's spine, intensifying her fear. The menacing creature advanced towards her with a palpable sense of malice, leaving her paralyzed with terror. She tried to scream, but her voice failed her, suffocated by the overwhelming fear.

With her eyes tightly shut, Y/n braced herself for the inevitable, prepared to face the demon's claws tearing into her flesh. But to her surprise, no pain or injury befell her.

As Y/n opened her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest, she was met with a sight that defied all expectations. The demon that had approached her, brimming with malice and hostility, had disintegrated into a pile of ashes. In its place stood a young boy with striking black hair that faded into a vibrant mint color at the tips.

The boy's presence exuded an otherworldly aura, and the blade he held in his hand emitted a soft, ethereal glow that illuminated the dimly lit forest.

As Y/n gazed into the boy's eyes, a sense of calm washed over her, transcending the initial shock of the encounter. His mint-colored orbs meeting her golden ones, though devoid of life, held a certain depth and grace that captivated her as if resonating with tranquility and understanding.

Without looking back, the man continued walking, his gaze fixed ahead. However, Y/n couldn't resist the urge to call out to him, her heart pounding in her chest. She clenched the fabric tightly, summoning the courage to speak.

"Um!" Her voice trembled, causing the man to pause in his tracks, his body turning slightly towards her as if awaiting her words. "T-Thank you," she managed to utter, her gratitude ringing through the quiet forest.

With a small nod of acknowledgement, the man seemed ready to resume his departure. Sensing the moment slipping away, Y/n mustered up the courage to speak, hoping to extend their brief encounter.

"C-Can I... know your name?" Her voice wavered, the question hanging in the air. The boy, seemingly in his mid-teens, regarded her with an unreadable expression. His gaze shifted downward briefly before he answered.

"Muichiro Tokito," he replied, the words carrying a hint of detachment.

Muichiro Tokito. The name hung in the air as Y/n absorbed the sound of it. She repeated it softly to herself, committing it to memory. There was something about the name that felt significant, as if it held a hidden story waiting to be unveiled.

Desperate to keep a connection with Muichiro, Y/n summoned her courage and boldly made a request. "I-Is it okay if we exchange letters?" The words tumbled out, tinged with a mix of anxiety and hope. She knew it was an unconventional proposition, but there was something about him that captivated her, and she yearned to learn more about his enigmatic nature.

Muichiro blinked in surprise at her peculiar request, she was fully expecting to be declined. However, after a moment of contemplation, he nodded in agreement, accepting her proposal. Y/n's eyes sparkled with delight, her golden orbs reflecting a bright smile as she expressed her gratitude for his acceptance.

And so, their exchange of letters began. While she poured her heart out, sharing her thoughts, emotions, and daily experiences in great detail, Muichiro's responses were brief and concise. His letters consisted of a few sentences, sometimes just a single paragraph, and he often used only one sheet of paper, leaving the rest blank.

Y/n couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in their letter exchanges. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment. She longed for more expressive strokes, longer sentences that would provide a deeper glimpse into Muichiro's world. She yearned to understand him better, to unravel the layers of his personality, and to forge a stronger bond through their letters. Deep down, she wished that he would dedicate more effort to writing longer sentences in his responses.

Nevertheless, Muichiro never failed to reply to Y/n's letters each time, and she still cherished and appreciated his responses, even if they lacked in length and words. The fact that he took the time to acknowledge her and maintain their correspondence meant a great deal to her.

His consistent replies became a source of comfort for Y/n. Even if his letters didn't contain extensive details or expressive strokes, she knew that Muichiro valued their correspondence and respected her desire to get to know him better. It was a silent affirmation that he was willing to invest in their exchange, albeit in his own unique way.

Y/n's appreciation for Muichiro's responses grew as she began to realize that perhaps his brevity and simplicity held their own kind of beauty. His concise words held meaning, and she started to notice the subtle nuances in his choice of phrases. It was as if he had mastered the art of saying more with less, leaving room for interpretation and deeper reflection.

As time passed and Muichiro's replies ceased, Y/n's worry intensified. What was once a steady flow of letters turned into a silent void. Her worry escalated with each passing day as the pile of unanswered letters grew taller, resembling a small mountain of her unanswered thoughts and emotions. The absence of Muichiro's replies left her feeling unsettled and anxious. What could have happened? Why had he suddenly stopped responding?

She replayed their previous exchanges in her mind, searching for any signs or clues that might explain the sudden silence. Had she said something wrong? Did she unknowingly cross a boundary? Doubt and self-blame crept into her thoughts, adding to her growing distress.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/n's worry transformed into a constant state of sickness. She couldn't shake off the feeling of unease, fearing the worst. It was as if a deep void had formed within her, longing for the connection she had cherished so deeply.

Muichiro did showed up at her house after two weeks of silence, he stood before her, smiling and seemingly unharmed, Y/n's initial surprise quickly transformed into a mixture of anger and hurt. The floodgates of her emotions opened, and tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. Without thinking, she lightly smacked his chest, her hand connecting with a mixture of frustration and sorrow.

"Why?" Y/n's voice quivered with anger as she scolded him, her voice laced with disappointment. "Why did you disappear without a word? I've been worried sick, drowning in a sea of unanswered letters!"

Her words came out in a rush, her emotions overwhelming her. The mountain of unanswered letters, the sleepless nights filled with worry, and the longing for a connection that had been abruptly severed all converged into a whirlwind of anger and hurt.

Muichiro's smile faded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of remorse and understanding. He reached out to gently touch Y/n's cheek; his voice filled with genuine remorse. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't mean to cause you distress or make you feel abandoned. I should have communicated with you beforehand."

Y/n's anger wavered as she saw the sincerity in Muichiro's eyes. The tears in her eyes blurred her vision as she tried to reconcile her emotions. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her tear-filled golden orbs widening with realization.

The once lifeless mint-colored orbs he possessed now seemed to shimmer with a newfound gentleness. There was a noticeable change in him, something that Y/n couldn't quite put her finger on. A glimmer of gentleness that hadn't been there before. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a depth of emotion and vulnerability that she hadn't witnessed until now.

Muichiro's transformation filled Y/n with a mix of hope and curiosity. She wondered what had prompted this change, what battles he had fought within himself to reach this point. But above all, she was grateful for this newfound glimpse into his true self.

Muichiro noticed her awestruck gaze, and a small smile curved on his lips, as if he could read her thoughts. "I regained my memories," he said, referring to his previous amnesia. While Y/n had never minded his condition, seeing him more expressive in his facial features made her heart flutter.

The admiration for his cuteness and charm deepened further after that. Y/n listened intently to his explanations, including his newfound clarity about his own emotions.

"I was able to sort out a lot of things," he continued. "Including my feelings for you."

"… ‘Feelings for me’?" Y/n repeated, her heart skipping a beat at Muichiro's words., her voice laced with uncertainty, trying to comprehend the significance of his words.

His admission that he had sorted out his feelings, specifically his feelings for her, sent a wave of surprise through her.

Muichiro's eyes met hers, his gaze steady and sincere. "Yes, Y/n. I've come to realize that my feelings for you run deeper than friendship. The more I got to know you through our letters, the more I realized how much you mean to me.”

"I don't fully understand these feelings, but I do know that I want to get to know you better," he confessed. It began to make sense to Y/n, realizing that despite the brevity of his letters, he had always made the effort to keep the correspondence going.

He continued, his voice sincere, "You're beautiful. Your eyes hold a sense of longevity, reminiscent of the color of a gingko tree." It was a unique and poetic comparison that resonated deeply within her. His ability to see beauty in the small details of the world around him only deepened her admiration for him. A visible blush tinted Y/n's cheeks as Muichiro praised her.

Y/n's mind raced, trying to process the unexpected confession. She had admired his charm and cuteness from the beginning, but she hadn't dared to hope that he felt the same way about her. Her lips parted in astonishment, struggling to find the right words.

“I’m sorry for being inconsistent with my letters.” Y/n's heart fluttered as Muichiro's hand gently cupped her cheek, his touch radiating warmth and tenderness. The softness in his gaze mirrored the gentleness of his touch, deepening the swirl of emotions within her. It was a moment of vulnerability and sincerity that left her speechless, unable to find the right words to express the depth of her feelings.

"I apologize for my sudden disappearance, but now I want you to be with me.” Muichiro's caress on her cheek, his thumb gently gliding across her skin, sent shivers down Y/n's spine. His touch conveyed a depth of emotion and a sense of protectiveness that was difficult to put into words. Y/n's heart raced with confusion at his words.

Y/n's voice trembled as she asked, "W-What do you mean?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat as Muichiro's smile filled her with warmth and anticipation. She couldn't help but feel a hint of disappointment when her bangs got in the way of their contact, but the soft kiss on her forehead still sent a wave of affection through her. "I want you to be by my side," he repeated, his voice filled with sincerity. "I want to see you every day."

"I can protect you from demons, and I can provide for the both of us," Muichiro expressed, his words filled with confidence. "Will you stay with me?"

His words carried a sense of unwavering determination and a promise to be there for her, no matter what challenges they may face.

Overwhelmed by a flurry of emotions, Y/n found herself at a loss for words. Her heart thumped in her chest; her cheeks flushed with a deep shade of red. The warmth radiating from Muichiro's actions and words seemed to melt her into a puddle of blissful contentment.

Y/n's nod was a silent affirmation of her acceptance, and she found solace in resting her head on Muichiro's chest. her heart filled with a mix of emotions: love, excitement, and a sense of security. She leaned her head onto Muichiro's chest, finding solace in the steady beat of his heart. It was a gesture of trust and vulnerability, allowing herself to be close to him and feel the warmth of his presence.

Muichiro's soft smile deepened as he gazed down at her, his eyes reflecting tenderness and affection. With gentle care, he parted her bangs, ensuring that their connection remained uninterrupted. Y/n's breath hitched as his lips met her forehead in a tender kiss, a gesture that conveyed a promise of love, protection, and devotion.

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rainbownomja · 1 year

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Hiya,

So I’m sure this is a long shot since I make pretty much no original content/don’t talk about myself on here much if I ever have at all. I am through and through simply fandom and general meme trash here for the vibes this hellscape (affectionate) provides.

But if there’s a chance that it’ll make even a small difference I’m gonna do this anyway.

Long story short, my cat (Soup) needs emergency surgery for a reason that surprisingly has nothing to do with any of the chronic illnesses that he has. This procedure is happening this Friday, March 10th, 2023, and will cost between $1017-$1215 as long as there’s no extreme surprises, and that payment has to be given at the time of service (or at least I have to agree to a specific payment plan at that point. But my life situation stuff means I can’t be sure if I could cover it in that amount of time either by myself (and thus know if I would be able not to incur the interest fees. This clarification was added after original posting, I apologize that this wasn’t mentioned to make clear the most accurate amount of times-sensitivity originally)

If that is all you’d like to know/need to know and you would like to help, here’s the link (if you’re particularly squeamish, skip the summary there. It’s not graphic in any way, but does provide more specific detail of what’s going on):

For those of you who’d like some more context, here it is:

In theory had this happened/had I known even a month earlier, I would’ve probably been able to afford the cost on my own, but it didn’t, so I can’t (for a lot of reasons out of my control that compounded pretty much simultaneously.)

Soup is such an essential member of my family. I am not the type of person to throw money at a battle that would only cause him pain and suffering just because I’m scared of what life will be like if (hopefully very distantly, when) I lose him. I will never be willing to harm him like that.

But this is a situation thankfully in which the risk of complications because of surgery are pretty low even with his preexisting conditions, the benefits of the surgery are very high and the probability of losing him if this doesn’t get treated at all and soon is pretty much 100% certain.

Besides what the surgery is treating, his chronic illnesses are being managed and he has many more years of happy quality life ahead of him.

So, if you happen to have anything to spare and would be willing to help me cover the cost of this surgery, and/or share this, I would be extremely grateful.

(And if you can’t or just don’t want to, know that there is no judgement here. I appreciate anyone just for reading this. And hey, if you happen to have solid memes to share please do, I honestly could use some distraction)

Here are some photos of the boi, as a treat for making it to the end.

#tw animal illness #tw medical #not so fun #cat stuff

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thespectralvision · 1 year

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Iron Studios 1/4 Scale White Vision

When Iron Studios announced their WandaVision 1/4 Scarlet Witch and red Vision, I had high hopes they would announce a White Vision too. Lucky me, they did a few weeks later and I had to get him. I have also purchased the Scarlet Witch 1/4 Scale coming out, so hopefuly she’ll be shipping soon (You can see her HERE)

I apologize for the clutter in some of the photos - I’m still in the process of getting my collection organized and decluttering in this smaller space.

More photos and rest of review under cut:

I’ll start with the good: I like the headsculpt a lot. The sharp geometry looks really good, and the likeness isn’t bad. It’s much smaller scale of course than the Queen Studios piece I have him displayed next to, but still clearly resembles Vision/Bettany. I love the amount of detail they put in, with the larger scale we can see the lines and shapes more clearly than the Hot Toy (which I still need to review, he arrived right before the madness that was the holidays). From an artist perspective he’s a great reference since the Legends figure is clearly based on concept art and his head sculpt is not accurate to the on-screen design (more on that RE: This piece later on), and the Hot Toy is very screen accurate but due to the movable head the lines do not always line up. I also love the *presence* this statue has. Even next to the 1:1 scale bust, he’s impressive and catches the eye. HIs pose is simple but Vision never has the most exciting poses, and this statue is clearly meant to mirror and be displayed with the red Vision in the line to recreate the library scene. His base is a little simple but clearly emulates the set and I really like the burned out wood from the fight effect. (Pictured with Queen Studios 1:1 Bust, and the Hot Toys 1/6 Scale White Vision for scale). He looks and feels like a high quality piece.

The translucent material for his cape also looks great. I know some people are iffy on mixed media in statues, but for this piece I think it really enhances it and mimics that simulated-fabric look that the on-screen cape has. It has a wire to pose which feels a little fragile but lets you fan it out, and when the fan catches it the cape flutters which adds another fun effect while looking at the piece.

Now what I *don’t* like, and this is a peeve of mine with most of the available merch of White Vision - the sculpt is not screen accurate to White Vision’s MCU costume. I think a lot of the WandaVision merch was put into production with concept art, because aside from the Hot Toys pieces (the 1/6 figure and the Cosbaby) and the Funko Soda White Vision chase figure, none of the products released for this guy have been accurate to his final appearance in WandaVision. The main obvious difference is the groin area - White Vision has the silly little underwear design (pulled straight from the comics and it’s stupid but I love it) while this statue’s suit is clearly the red Vision costume but white. The bracers and greaves also look more like red Vision than White Vision, though the two designs are similar enough it’s not that noticable. There is also an interesting panel on the pack where the cape rests against his shoulders, that is not present on *either* white or red Vision in the MCU. It doesn’t look bad but it suprised me to see it.

That being said the proportions look good. The build and shape look very accurate to the character.

Overall though, when just looking at the piece it’s not that obvious, and I would rather have this beautiful boy than not have him. The inaccuracies were not enough to deter me from bying the statue, because he’s a very niche character to begin with, and given how few Vision collectibles were made available between Age of Ultron and WandaVision I’m taking what I can. According to the edition information on the base there are only 120 of the White Vision made, and I know that almost no pieces were put out by any major collection company for Civil War or Infinity War. Maybe if Vision Quest rumors are true we’ll get updated pieces then, but I'm glad I’ve got this one in the meantime.

Bonus Comment: He has a nicely sculpted ass. Just saying.

There we go! It was fun to give this piece a review. I didn’t say as much about the Queen Studios piece because honestly he’s just breathtaking but I would like to review more pieces in the future. I love high-end fandom collectibles like statues and Hot Toy figures, and my collection brings me a lot of joy.

#wandavision #white vision #iron studios #marvel #MCU #Marvel collectible #statue collecting #statue review #my collection

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sparklingpax · 1 year

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HIIIII following a recent question I got (keep lookout for another post like this answering the other one sometime in the future, y'all 😌), I'm taking this opportunity to Finally explain specifics & thoughts I have about how Landiver works as a ship in my mind, why I ship them etc. No it's not justification because I will not be Not shipping these idiots anytime soon, Landiver and Ginhawk are two of like six total ships from all my fandoms that live rent-free and undebatably permanently in my mind thanksss <3

and so yea on that note, any of yall reading this don't have to agree with everything I say!! (Pls don't tell me what you disagree with tho I'm not gonna stop you from thinking what you will and all opinions are valid esp in the realm of like, fan-interpretation of fictional characters, but I am so full of anxiety I will be afraid and scared; I am just begging, don't point out what you don't agree with just leave me beeeeee)

I also realize a lot of this is my personal interpretations of them, which may or may not be entirely accurate (tho to be fair, we only rlly did get glimpses of who the pretenders rlly are as ppl, considering how plot-heavy a series it was; I'd say Hawk got the most attention in terms of that and even he doesn't get as much expansion as I'd have liked 😭) so....there's a lot of room for said interpretation imo.

But yea anyway, I'm talking purely canon Landiver (not gonna get into my AU anytime soon because it's relatively similar to this with more focus on different details bc they have different pasts and such in that....so yea)

Without further ado, my rambles are below the cut. Apologies for any grammatical errors, I typed this on my phone on the bus going home and while laying on my bedroom floor 😭✨

Enjoy! :']

///

I think they work as a ship for a bunch of reasons (I'm only gonna mention some of my thoughts about this because I don't wanna go on for too long 😳)!!!!!

One, their personalities being somewhere in the middle of "opposites" and "the same." Like not "yin and yang" kinda thing but they're also not the same type of person either. Lander might be more confident, talkative, and quicker to get emotional/heated about things compared to an exponentially more easy-going and level guy like Diver. But Diver isn't shy or unemotional, and he is most certainly confident in himself. Both of them Give 0 fucks™ but in different ways, I guess. In that regard, I feel like they also mix very well personality-wise. Lander is more interested in doing the talking, the ranting, etc. Diver says what he needs to in shorter ways in general, prefers listening and making input here and there, chuckling while Landmine fumes about some guy at work. However he might also be slightly more wordy when talking to Lander. Conversely, Lander might be more chill and show the "softer" sides of himself with Diver, the side that loses that usual "cool, confident, smooth guy" composure for example. Fumbles up his usual fast-paced talk because he's distracted w the guy in front of him (when they're in a mostly romantic mood, that is) Lander is certainly more organized and can be a little uptight about things going as they were planned to, whereas Diver (like me lmao 😭) is kind of just perpetually confused a little bit, and just going with it. But see, it doesn't seem that way because he always has this look about him that says to the outside world that he's got this and he is not fazed. He forgets stuff a lot, spaces out, dozes off, etc. Lander's got his back with that tho ✨

Diver isn't as emotional as Lander, so he's a great touchstone for Lander to center himself when he starts to panic or flip out about something. And he only lets himself do that with Diver because he feels like he can. And, being with Lander for so long has encouraged him to express himself and be emotional in his own way more often than before they met. Slowly, over time.

They have different interests for the most part, and aren't going to pretend they want to adopt every single one of each other's interests, but they have a mutual understanding of that, and enjoy the difference in tastes. So they just let each other be. Little things like: Lander's a city person, Diver's a nature guy. Lander prefers style and flashiness, Diver just wants what works, and doesn't mind. Lander is watching like five different dramas at once when he's not working his day job or out on missions, and Diver enjoys reading more (which might be because he's out on be boat or busy doing lots of really hands-on work with aquariums and such for his day job, spending less time than his partner does in an office doing paperwork). Diver will easily take a beer over an expensive wine Lander might've found, and Lander likes finer-quality alcohol, but both would be willing to have the other thing if they're hanging out together and one really wants to have their thing that night. And, they both love a good fistfight, enjoy physical touch as a primary (Diver) or secondary (Lander; his primary is actually gift-giving) love language, drinking, and collect cassette tapes together ✨

Also quick aside, but I HC they chose human bodies that put them around mid-to-late-40s. This is interesting because for example, Hawk has a body that puts him at like 23 (yes specifically 23 don't ask 😳) in human years, and Phoenix is mid-30s. Then we have the other humans characters who are actually just their age (Ginrai is 19, etc...) However, in Cybertronian years, the Pretender team are relatively like the same age, give or take a [cybertronian] year. This is another reason they are so easily connected in a way, because both in human years and cybertronian, they're around the same age, but especially as humans, they'd be not rlly old or super young. Idk how to describe it properly but maybe you know what I mean?? 😳

They are also incredibly playful with one another--always have been. Like, lowkey harassing one another (affectionately) and constantly joking around/making witty quips back and forth in their way, with a specific type of energy no one else has. In fact, they have energies that match in a way where they are as they always have been: like old friends. No one else quite gets it. They're just....a pair. Always together, which I feel like even in the anime you see them fooling around together and perpetually side by side. (Take that one bit where Diver grabs Lander and like ruffles up his hair....i love their vibe sm 😭✨)

They never descend into a serious argument because even their constant "bickering" isnt really bickering at all and more just making comebacks at one another over something on which they disagree, until one bursts into laughter and the other follows.

[Landiver in general is a whole different vibe to say, Ginhawk, both having intimately sweet moments but in very different ways.]

They are more than willing to bring it up when they don't like something/have something to talk about, not worried even for a moment what the other will think, because it will always be the safest place to simply talk it out amongst themselves. They would be hard-pressed to trust anyone else when either have somth serious to discuss. Maybe (hard maybe) Phoenix, since he's usually hanging out with those two when he's around (which is just not that often at all, I'll get into that in the other thread haha) and is somewhat a close friends...but usually it's just Lander and Diver. However even s, they rarely ever have to because they don't really have lines to cross with each other...they do not hold back when goofing around in their definitely shared sense of humor 😭💀✨

Also, I feel like it took them an extremely long time to actually formally get together just because...like, they've always been together anyway, but didn't really know how to go about,,, relationships in the official sense--if that was even something they wanted. It was on and off and on and off again for a while, Lander and Diver trying other relationships with other people for a long time (especially in the period of time after being separated to the different parts of the country once Lander got his new job over in New York and left where he'd been with Diver, again a whole separate thing I have HCs for which I touched on in my "In Relativity" fic; on that note I wanted to mention in both my AU and in canon, I HC Lander as bi and Diver as gay ✨). But they always found it didn't really....connect. over and over, both of them coming back together but not really being sure what it even was they had...and then something happens where it just clicks, and they realize, that...there isn't really anything else they should do. They do belong beside one another. They can be true only with each other, because when they are together, they are "home." As friends in a deeper, more intimate sense of that. Partners....lovers. But always friends, because they both think the whole relationship labels thing puts a wrench in the vibes. It's just very complicated to explain for them, but there's never been any kind of malice or struggle between them other than coming to the final conclusion how the answer has always been in front of them. They've known each other for centuries in our human terms, and they know they've been together forever in a sense, but sometimes it feels like they've known each other even longer.

(When they finally, formally got together, Ginrai and Phoenix just nodded to one another, like they've been waiting for this for ages, and Phoenix playfully punches Diver, who just starts laughing. Hawk, the other godmasters and the kids, are all just happy for the two)

(⁠◍^w^◍⁠) 💗✨

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vickyvicarious · 2 years

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I vaguely remember about an Ace Attorney fic concept you posted where it's an AU where Phoenix acted as a sorts of 'lightning rod' where he got hurt in others' stead but survived and it allowed them to survive their canon deaths. Did I summarize that correctly? And if I may ask, what other ideas did you might have in the meantime about the AU?

That'd be this one! And yeah, that summary is pretty accurate, though I hadn't thought of that specific wording. I like it, haha.

I actually finished the first chapter this weekend, with Phoenix getting poisoned by Dahlia but surviving, and in the process inadvertently saving Doug Swallow's life. It turned out more serious than I had initially planned (and I'm still not super satisfied with the last scene but I've reached the screw it I'm leaving it point at least for now), so now I'm thinking the fic is going to be overall a more serious/genuine take, though it will probably get a bit more lighthearted as it goes along and the cast grows/Phoenix's habit of not dying becomes more known.

Putting the rest of this answer under a cut since it got a little long... Apologies if I'm rambling on too much, but this actually helped me think about how I will write some of it, so it's been helpful!

So far, I kind of like the idea of Doug becoming a sort of weird friend of Phoenix's. It's all a little awkward, especially since Phoenix initially resents him a lot for the part he plays in arresting Dahlia, but they hang out sometimes. Later on, Phoenix introduces Ema to him, and she's extremely excited to meet and get guidance from an actual scientist (since I assume he has a promising career ahead of him, given his nickname around campus and that he was creating these really dangerous poisons and such).

Phoenix also knows who Diego Armando is by the end of this first chapter. The way he meets Mia is because he's initially refusing to cooperate with being a witness for the prosecution after Dahlia's arrested for poisoning him, and Mia hears about it and visits him. She takes him to seem comatose Diego to drive in how dangerous Dahlia is, and hearing the day this guy was poisoned with the same stuff as him was the day Dahlia met him (in the same building) introduces enough doubt that Phoenix agrees to testify. He doesn't outright turn on her, but tells the truth as far as he knows it and the evidence is plenty enough to get her convicted.

I haven't gotten into all of the details about the trial or anything in the fic (ended the chapter in the hospital), and I'm not sure if the Doug+Ema connection is going to make its way in there or not, but it's there in my head!

I've decided to structure it like so:

save Doug (written)

save Mia (easy fix, just an AU of my own AU in my fic Turnabout Legacy - same overall scenario but Phoenix doesn't die this time),

save Misty,

have Kristoph try to poison Phoenix and thus save Trucy's dad (forgot his name) and lead to Apollo joining the Fey agency, and finally

save Metis.

Keeping the number to five, sticking to only preventing significant deaths for the most part. The one that is most challenging at the moment is Misty.

The whole thing there will be different because there's no Godot in this verse. But I think the plan will be for Dahlia to come back and try to either kill Mia herself in Maya or Pearl's body, or force Mia to protect herself at the expense of killing her sister. With Morgan's input, the plan would be more to have Mia kill Maya, because she loves Maya so much it would destroy her, and also that would remove the barrier between Pearl and the role of Master (since Mia officially declares that she doesn't want the job ever at some point, probably after the second chapter when Redd White is defeated). It would fulfill both their goals. Obviously, the plot is going to go horribly wrong in some way, Misty will interfere with things, and somehow there will be a self-defense scenario where Phoenix ends up getting stabbed instead of Misty-channeling-Dahlia-to-protect-Maya and survives it. Depending on how mean I want to be, I might still toss him into Eagle River too. We'll see. A lot of finagling of finer details needed there.

Doug might come back in that chapter too, since I feel like Phoenix might call him up as well as Mia and Diego when he spots Iris's picture the Oh, Cult! magazine at the beginning. It's not just his secret to keep this time, since everyone else who knew/was hurt by Dahlia are all still alive too. Of course, Mia has been actively looking for Misty since the end of the second chapter of this fic, so if she is up on the mountain that would complicate things with Elise Deauxnim getting recognized right away. Another option would be to have Mia on a trip looking for her mother somewhere else, so it's just Phoenix, Maya, and Diego. Diego might recognize her from Mia's picture but he probably wouldn't know as immediately, or might keep quiet about it and just try to get Mia up there to join. If I go that route, I think Dahlia's plan would be to get Mia's boyfriend/fiance/husband (not sure where they're at by then yet) to kill her little sister in self-defense, or have her possessed sister kill her lover, either of which would devastate her and still be a really good revenge. I... actually just thought of that option when writing this reply, but I might go for it, it makes a few things easier to keep in line and parallel the game timeline.

So that's gonna be an interesting chapter.

Kristoph will try to poison Phoenix instead of just framing him, maybe because he wants to distract the entire Fey & Co. agency (which has Phoenix, Mia, and Diego) with grief so that none of them get to continue the job and win the first case against Klavier (that's supposed to be his). Or maybe he knows that one of the other attorneys would get suspicious of this vital last-minute evidence being suspiciously delivered, so he doesn't want to risk that. Maybe he wants to kill or seriously injure them all, but Phoenix hogs the snacks and then doesn't die, I dunno. Need to think more about that one also, but at least the general picture isn't as different as the saving Misty one. Anyway, Phoenix doesn't die, Trucy's dad still dips in all the chaos, Phoenix still adopts Trucy, and Mia and Diego look into the poisoning and figure out it's Kristoph/get him arrested. This means no Beanix, no murdered Shadi Smith down the line, and Apollo naturally wants to join their firm.

The Metis one is the easiest. Apollo is in the Fey & Co. agency as well by that point and Clay is his best friend, so he takes Trucy to hang out at the Space Center, and Phoenix sometimes comes along too. Trucy becomes friends with Athena, and Phoenix+Trucy are there that fateful day, in time for Phoenix to get stabbed again, poor guy. But this in turn saves Metis and Simon!

And... that's the last chapter I think. Maybe if I think of one, I could also write a +1 of sorts where Phoenix doesn't die but it's not dramatic or life-changing at all (maybe like a silly epilogue for something like him getting his wisdom teeth removed and he's way more dramatic about it than any of his actual near-death experiences, moaning and whining about how he's withering away, etc.), but is a good excuse for a fluffy family chapter where all the people Phoenix has inadvertently saved hang out or something. - I'm not sure on that one, and I'll have to see when I get there.

#ace attorney #my fic #youareshauni #replies #phoenix gets stabbed twice poisoned twice and blunt force traumaed twice in this fic #....well the bft is only once in the fic but the fire extinguisher thing still happens offscreen so. yeah

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xreaderbooks · 3 years

Text

Two sides (2)

Pair: ACOTAR Azriel x reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Language, implied smut

Summary: Y/N has been in love with Cassian for centuries now, Just how Azriel has been with Mor. Both heartbroken by their unrequited love they fall into a routine of 'one-night stands', Not realizing their each others mate.

Masterlist - Part 1

A/N: So I dont know how accurate the mate information is, like I said before I haven’t read the ACOTAR series since 2019 so I probably got a couple things wrong or didn’t write the characters the way you would expect them to act. I chose to make them more how they would be in head canons if you get what I mean. Either way I really hope you enjoyed the 2nd and final part to Two sides :) Feel free to send requests for Azriel or any other Acotar characters. Thank you all for the support <3

"We need to talk."

"Okay," Azriel says skeptically, he walks over to sit on the chair across from you.

"I wanted to apologize for the other night," You shifted in your seat as you spoke, you were noticeably uncomfortable. That bothered Azriel, he wanted you to feel natural not forced, he didn't know where that desire came from but it was true. Even if this conversation was a bit awkward. "I never meant to make you feel used, I guess, I just needed a distraction."

"From seeing Cassian and Nesta together?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded. "Y/N, I didn't feel used." He let out a small chuckle. "I enjoyed it, actually. And a bit flattered that you chose to-" He coughed awkwardly, "share that part of yourself with me." You grinned. You eased up a bit after knowing that Azriel didn't feel bad about what happened the other night, and even enjoyed it. It also warmed your heart at the fact that this was one of the rare moments that he felt comfortable enough to talk about how he was feeling. Despite it probably being out of sympathy or to defuse the tension.

"Oh," You chirped "well good. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up our friendship."

He shook his head, "Y/N you've done a lot in the past few centuries that could've fucked up this friendship and we're still okay, better than okay considering. Besides Mor and I are still friends even after..." He tensed up, you went over to him and hesitantly put your hand on top of his.

"I know." You gave him a small smile. "I have an idea, I'll admit it's not my brightest but it will benefit the both of us."

His eyebrow quirked, "Your ideas are never the brightest, that's why you're just my second."

"Okay, wow." You blinked, removing your hand, and started pacing around the room. "First Rhys made me your second because I'm good at my job and you're just better cause of your shadows." He glared at you when you made the comment about his shadows. "Two, I've had a couple of good ideas in the past you just never go through with them."

"Maybe it's because all your ideas are reckless and we'd get caught if we did our job by using your so-called good ideas." He got up to meet you when you turned around to face the other way, you were met by his chest in your way.

You huffed when you looked up at him. "Whatever, I'm pretty sure you were going to like this one." He gave a nod to continue. "I- you know what I think it's better if I just show you."

He cocked his head to the side. You took this as an opportunity to grab him by the back of his neck and slammed your lips onto his. Immediately after he put his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. He started walking backward, leading you towards one of the bedrooms. Your foreheads pressed together but you paused from kissing him, catching your breath. You knew he could hear your heartbeat, beating quicker by the second, his heart was beating faster too. It gave you all the encouragement you needed to start taking off your clothes.

"So this was your bright idea," Azriel asked, while also hurriedly taking off his clothes.

"Mhm." Was your response before nodding and relocating your lips onto his.

The intensity of it made your heart stutter. You wanted him and at that moment he wanted you. He truly wanted you, you both felt it and took that feeling, using it to fuel the passion in that kiss. He moved down to your neck, nipping and biting at it. You moved your hand to slowly graze his wings, which made him freeze. Azriel gave you a look that made your body go on overdrive.

He picked you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he continued to "eat your neck" as Cassian had said all those days before. You rolled your eyes at the thought, but then they rolled back as Azriel bit at a sensitive area that intensified that already intoxicating feeling you got when you were with him.

And you wished it never ended.

~~~

"How do you feel about this?" You asked, hoping he'd be okay with it. So far he hadn't opposed.

"I don't want to hurt you." He confessed. You knew he meant physically, he could be a little rough sometimes. You were okay with that though, You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"I'm serious Y/N." He looked you in the eye. You were back at the training grounds of the Illyrian camp. You didn't specify any details, so you both didn't care about speaking in public.

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it." You began to walk ahead of him, He grabbed your forearm and pulled you back to face him, a hint of a smile on your face. "Only if you're sure."

Your smile faded once you saw that he was genuinely concerned. "Az, you wouldn't hurt me. I trust you."

He froze and let you go. He had a hard time letting people see how he was feeling but you could tell he was struggling with letting you in and his self-deprecation.

~~~

You had kept your secret "relationship" hidden from everyone else, as much as you could. It didn't take long. They were extremely nosy and it was difficult with Mor being your best friend. She always knew when you were lying and had insisted you were acting differently. You would always blow it off and say you had a good day, telling a random story you just thought of on the spot.

Cassian had continued to tease you about your secret lover-- which only intrigued Mor even further-- you avoided the truth most of the time. You and Azriel would be extra careful when doing what you did. Sometimes even going to Inns and you would both winnow to the location.

Going through all that trouble only for Amren to find out and threaten to tell the others. She tried to blackmail you into buying her a pure diamond bracelet. As if she couldn't afford it yourself. You talked to Azriel about it and you both decided you didn't care if anyone else knew, it's only a matter of time before they found out anyway. Plus you could use the money to buy a house somewhere private in Velaris. You enjoyed the privacy and lack of teasing for as long as it lasted.

Amren didn't tell but as you predicted, everyone did find out. Some already had suspicions like Mor, Rhys, and Feyre. Amren wouldn't have known if she hadn't caught you both and Cassian never would have thought. You'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed at him not showing any sign of jealousy. You knew he wouldn't be, being caught up with Nesta and all but you still held hope. You considered yourself a fool and would try to fuck the feelings out of you with Azriel. And most of the time it worked.

~~~

Months went by as sleeping with your best friend became your new normal. You never would have thought that you'd be one of those mysterious girls that Azriel hooked up with, ever since that night, you were the only girl. You had to admit, you liked the idea; being Azriel's only girl. But you knew that although you would be the only girl in his bed, Mor will always be on his mind. Not that you blamed him, you were still somewhat hung up on Cassian. After you can't get rid of 500+ years of feelings.

As you laid next to Azriel, who now stayed nights instead of leaving right after, You admired his tattoos, the intricate designs, you fought the urge to trace them. You did anyways but only a centimeter away from his chest so you wouldn't wake him. In the morning light that slipped through a slight gap in your curtains, It shone right on him. He looked ethereal.

You always knew he was attractive most Illyrian men were, at least if they weren't assholes most of the time. You had time now, to actually take in his beauty. You could never understand how someone so beautiful and kind could be so broken. You guessed that's why you chose him to spend your nights with, instead of some random guy. You could help him and heal him and get him to appreciate himself more.

The shadows around him became more active, it made him tense up. He was awake. You lifted your hand up to up to move the stray hair that fell onto his face. At that moment, you felt your world shift an overwhelming sensation of love and adoration consumed your body and you snatched your hand away from him. You were in pure shock.

'Holy fuck' Was the only thing going through your head.

"What's wrong?"He questioned as if he could sense your distress. His voice hoarse from just waking up.

"Nothing." You said, immediately getting up and getting dressed in whatever you had closest to you. "You should, um, You should get going. I have a lot of reports to do, I've been holding them off but Rhys has been asking me for them for the longest so I should get on it."

Azriel sat up, the bed sheet covering one leg and another part. His perfectly sculpted body in your bed, the lighting, half of his leg uncovered by the blanket. You tried to compose yourself to figure out what you would do. Hoping that he didn't pick up on how different you were acting. It was no use he probably already expected something was up.

To try to ease the tension you sat next to him, brushing the hair out of his face, dragging your fingertips down to the side of his face, and kissed his cheek. You ignored the tingles you felt as his face nuzzled into your hand. Hesitantly, you remove your hand and got up from the bed, and sat at the desk you had in your room. You pretended to read through old letters from officials.

Azriel took that as his cue to leave. He got dressed and pressed a kiss to the back of your head before he left.

He definitely knew something, that's not how your mornings usually go. You would at least spend an hour or two together either talking or enjoying each other's presence before sending each other off to your respective duties. However due to your new discovery of Azriel being your mate. You panicked. What would you do now?

~~~

Hours had passed and you hadn't left your room, choosing to focus on the reports that you did in fact, have to do. Rhys just wasn't expecting them for another week or so. Mor then busted into your room. "Knock, knock bitch."

"Uh, hello gorgeous, didn't expect a lovely visit from you today." You said sarcastically, turning your chair to face her. She dropped the shopping bags onto your floor. You lifted a brow in question.

"We're going on a trip!"

"I'm busy." You turned back around to focus on what you were writing.

"It's a fun work one." You twisted your chair around again.

"How do you mean?"

"Day court gala, bonding with people, gaining trust, and all that." She waved it off as if you didn't need to know actual information. You decided you'd ask for details from Rhysand later.

"And you went shopping." You gestured to all of the bags. "like you don't have tons of outfits you could take."

"Well of course I do. These are for you." She grinned.

"W-what?"

"Just because you're supposed to be invisible and all that, doesn't mean you have to be like that all the time." She referred to your job description, being another spy for Rhysand, relying on you being a woman to get information from people Azriel couldn't. Kind of ridiculous considering Azriel's shadows allowed him to get all the information needed but it was an easy enough job. Unlike Az, you didn't have shadows to command so you stuck to your black outfits tunics, and suits that would help you move easily. You never really dressed up, unless it was for an occasion, but you enjoyed doing it when you could. Most of the time you would be on duty or something like it so you couldn't.

This Gala gave you the perfect excuse too. You were thankful to Mor for having bought you these dresses and accessories. You were pretty sure you had worn all the dresses you had in your closet already.

"Yeah, you're right." You gave her a half-smile. Part of you wondered what Azriel's reaction would be to you in one of these revealing dresses. You shook the thought from your head. You would dress for yourself not for some male, even if that male is your mate.

You debated whether to tell Mor or not. She might be able to help you with your internal battle. Part of you was hurt about Cassian not being your mate. Another part always knew that he wasn't, and another part of you wondered how Azriel would react. Did he feel the bond snap into place? Or was it a Feyre-Rhysand situation where the bond would snap into place at another moment? Would he reject you cause you weren't Mor?

You opted to tell Mor at the day court where you would have more space and privacy from the others.

~~~

Helion's words about uniting and bonding were very heartwarming and kind, but you couldn't get past the thoughts that swarmed your mind. You took advantage of this time with everyone listening to Helions welcoming speech and sneakily made your way over to where Mor was standing. You pretended to greet her with a kiss and whispered in her ear to meet you in the room you were staying at.

"Thank the cauldron you came along, Helion was droning on and was about to make me fall asleep." She joked as she sauntered into your room. She paused her amused tone as soon as she saw your face. "You were fine like two minutes ago."

"Glad to know, I'm good at hiding it." You forced a smile. She tilted her head as if to ask you 'what's wrong', so you told her. You told her that Azriel was your mate and how it happened. You told her of your fears of rejection and confusion with your love for Cassian. It was a different love now, you felt it. There was a shift in what you felt towards Cassian and more intense feelings for Azriel. You suspected the bond but you didn't mind it. You then opened up about your insecurity about him rejecting you for her. Which she shut down, though she knew what you meant.

"Mor, Azriel loves you, like I loved Cassian. What if his love for you is stronger and he refuses to let go. We all know the only reason he never went for you is his trouble with his self-worth." Those were harsh words, but they were true. "He could easily reject me for you, knowing you don't love him in that way."

"You don't know that Y/N. And you loved Cassian, probably as much as Azriel loved me. After all this time you spent together, you truly don't think he would have changed the way he feels for me?" She grabbed your hand in hers. "You and Azriel are like two sides of the same coin, he's all dark and brooding and you, well you're the same in some ways. But you bring out the light and you can cast out all of his darkness with a simple smile."

"I don't know." You whispered. You were scared. Your feelings for Azriel already began to grow, without the bond, with it in place now it was strengthened. Your feelings for Cassian was a background noise that would soon grow into a more familial type of love.

"What should I do Mor?" You whimpered, you put your face in your hands. "I feel like a girl with a crush. This is ridiculous."

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, yes it is. On the bright side, if he doesn't know about you being mates, you could still have fun with other people."

You gave her a look. "You forget that he's my designated person to 'have fun' with."

"I didn't know you had a conversation on exclusivity." She shrugged and walked over to the cart that had alcoholic drinks, at the corner of the room.

"Technically we did when we agreed to sleep with each other when we felt like it." You reasoned.

"Hm." She mused, sipping on her drink. "I still say enjoy tonight, dance with a few males, or females, and if you two end up having sex with him again just enjoy the time you have with him."

"Thanks for the talk, Mor."

"Of course darling, by the way, I highly doubt he'll reject you. If he does he's an idiot and I'll kill him." She sent a wink your way and left you in your room to think.

~~~

Azriel watched as you swayed your hips to the beat of the music. A man who he didn't know came up from behind you, keeping up with you. That was the first of many. He felt a twinge of jealousy in his gut. He attempted to force that emotion down. He couldn't understand where that was coming from.

He was keeping watch, even though he always made sure to keep a lookout for danger to his court. Mor and Cassian tried to get him to ease up, he didn't budge. Who would pry Cassian from more liquor when he's had enough to drink if Azriel wasn't sober? He used the excuse of being the only responsible one to keep an eye on her. Y/n, Azriel thought he knew what it was to love someone because of Mor but what Azriel felt for Y/N was different. It felt raw and real and whatever it was, was growing fast. She was easy to talk to, not that he did much of that but she listened, actually listened when he did, and she didn't pry or hover as much as the others. They tend to beat around the bush when wanting to know about what was going on with him. Unlike Y/N who would take her time to make sure he felt comfortable and if, he wasn't, she would change the topic and act normal.

Y/N was a calming presence that allowed him to just be. She brought out another side of him that he thought he could never be.

That's why when he felt a change in the way he saw her dancing with a new guy than the one she was with earlier, it all made sense. She was his mate. He saw red as he practically flew to where they were. The fae males' hands that were roaming your bonds were ripped away from you and he dragged him away. Azriel pinned the man against the wall. People began to stare and talk in hushed whispers, appalled at the sight.

"Never touch my mate, again." He growled. He dug his fingers into the guy's neck.

"I-I didn't know." The man choked out.

"Well, now you do." He muttered, letting the man slump to the ground. He went over to where you were standing, eyes wide. His eyes softened while looking at you. He slowed as he got to you. "Can we talk?"

You nodded your head and began to walk toward an empty hall.

"I'm sorry if I scared you." He kept his voice low but soft. He was afraid, you would want to run away.

"You didn't." You stood there staring at him. You tried to figure him out, to no avail. His face was always stoic. "I- I thought you'd reject me and now I don't know what to do." You confessed.

"You knew?" He tried to recall if you had acted any differently. His shadows had felt the change in your demeanor and set out in whispers when you were rushing him out. He brushed it off, he should've looked more into it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you feel unwanted or rejected.

"Since yesterday morning." You confirmed. Your anxiety consumed you, you heard of the pain that came along with being rejected by your mate. Some have died from it. Little did you know Azriel was worrying about the same exact thing. Not thinking himself worthy enough of your affection. He allowed himself the pleasure of being in bed with you, assuming it was nothing more and he couldn't get hurt you or be hurt that way. It was a release from another pain you both had the displeasure of feeling.

"I want you to know it is an honor to have you as my mate." He took a step closer.

"Really? Honestly, I thought..." You shook your head. "Nevermind."

He looked confused but let it go, if you wanted to tell him you would. "Guess this means I have to go cook you something." You let out a laugh. He smiled an actual wide beautiful smile. Azriel grabbed your face and kissed you.

It was soon interrupted by a very drunk Mor who shouted, "Finally!"

Cassian was right behind her, "Mor! I forgot where the bathroom was, can y-" He paused looking between you and Azriel. "Oooh getting freaky in the hall, that's new. Hey Y/N if he isn't hitting it right, you know where to find me." He winked at you. Azriel gave him a murderous look, putting his arm in front of you. 'So he's gonna be one of those', you thought.

You couldn't wait till the second part of the mating process.

Tags: @wildchild2707 ,@theworthlessqueen ,@ciciakai ,@rockinginneverland

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quicksandblock · 3 years

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MCYT Demographic Survey Part 2 RESULTS

IT’S TIME!!!

Once again, thank you so much to everyone who participated! 1,654 people total responded to this - about four and a half times as many respondents as the first survey. It’s honestly incredible. I’m so happy the rest of you are as interested as I am in this stuff :D

The increased turnout is also why these results are being posted two days later than I’d intended. I want to give a HUGE thank you to my friend @quincepastey and my sibling @orestes-swimming for helping me out, and by helping I do mean they did basically all of the technical stuff for me, because my knowledge of spreadsheets was not up to the task. So thank you to Cupid for organizing all the data from questions 3 and 4 into something comprehensible for me, and thank you to Kal for making the charts! They are absolutely the MVPs and everyone reading this should go check them out. Thank you guys so much <3

Reblogs of this post are very appreciated. It would be awesome if the info about the results could reach everyone who submitted a response, so if you reblogged my first post about this survey, please consider reblogging this one as well!

For your convenience, here’s a link to the results of the first survey I did six months ago. Now - on to the results!

Question 1: What is your age range?

Compared to the results of the first survey, we can see that things have changed a bit! Specifically, the fandom has shifted just a little bit older. The solid majority of the fandom is still in the 15-17 year old range, but it’s gone down from almost half to closer to 40%. Almost a third of the fandom are ages 18-20, up from close to a fifth six months ago. 21-25 year olds have increased from about 10% to about 14%. And the youngest segment, 13-14 year olds, have gone from almost 20% of the fandom down to 12% - the sharpest change of all.

Finally, nearest and dearest to my own heart, there are now 26 whole people in the fandom aged 26-30 and 9 people aged 30+. Old Squad is growing, folks. We are... the 2% 😎 Special shoutout to the person who said their 15 year old kid got them into the fandom. I hope you know just how cool you are.

These results are interesting, but it’s also impossible to say how accurate the data is. This survey and the previous one were only posted on my blog, and they only reached a wider audience through the reblogs of my followers. So do these changes reflect actual changes in the demographics of the fandom as a whole, or is it just that my followers (and the people who follow them) have shifted older? To try to avoid this bias in the future, I may reach out to some well-known younger bloggers and ask them to reblog the next survey I do so that I can reach a more even audience.

Question 2: What is your gender?

Apologies for the small text, but there were so many unique write-in answers that I wanted to include them all. You may want to open the image in a separate tab for better quality.

In contrast to the age question, the gender spread of the fandom has remained pretty much the same. About half the fandom is still female, the nonbinary crowd has increased from 20% to 25%, 7% of us are male, almost 7% are genderfluid, and about 5% are agender. Just like last time, most of the write-in responses fell into the vague categories of either genderqueer or questioning.

No surprises on this one! The fandom continues to be overwhelmingly female and queer. Next time I think I’ll include genderqueer and questioning as options to try to catch some of those people into a formal category. All y’all are so valid, especially the person who wrote in their gender as “soup” <3

The results for questions 3 and 4 will be under a cut, because I don’t want to completely destroy people’s dashes.

Before I get into the last two questions, a couple notes. First, I want to explain how I came up with the list of creators, since a lot of people were either excited or disappointed by the fact that a few different people were on there.

On the last survey, this question was a write-in, and I had to transcribe and collate all the answers by hand to come up with the actual number of people who followed each creator. For this survey, I simply took the list that came out of the previous one and pasted it in! I also added a few people who no one wrote in six months ago but who are much more prominent now (Ranboo being the biggest example). So if you were excited to see your favorite small creator listed as an option, they were there because someone wrote them in last time! And if you wrote in your favorite small creator here, they’ll be an option on the next survey. The list is entirely crowdsourced and it will expand with each survey.

That said, the same also applies for more controversial creators. Specifically, I’m talking about CallMeCarson. Several people questioned my decision to keep him on the list - and to be honest, I considered taking him out. But in the end I decided to leave him in as an option for the sake of completeness and consistency with the previous survey. I want to emphasize that this is not me condoning his actions. But for the sake of the data, I felt that it was best to leave him in.

That said, let’s move on to questions 3 and 4!

Question 3: What creator(s) do you primarily follow?

So, it’s harder to compare with the previous survey on this one, and that’s purely because on the previous survey I didn’t have the help I did here. The chart I was able to make for the results back in October was frankly trash. Also, the fact that I split “followed creators” into two questions - primarily and casually followed - definitely throws things off. However, we can still do a certain amount of comparison!

The most obvious change is Ranboo. He straight up was not on the previous survey at all - I think he’d been streaming for less than a month at the time. Now, about 55% of respondents listed him as someone they primarily follow. The Dream SMP itself has also jumped dramatically. Previously, about 5% of people wrote in Dream SMP. That has increased to over half. Quackity has gone from less than 2% to about 30%. Karl has gone from 4% to 30%. Phil has gone from about 8% to a little under 50%. The SBI have jumped from 11% to over 40%.

Techno has gone from about 50% to over 60%. Tommy has gone from 45% to over 55%. Wilbur has jumped from 43% to 55%. Tubbo has remained steady at about 38%.

Dream has apparently dropped some of his following percentage-wise, falling from 50% to about 35%. However, George, Sapnap, and the Dream Team itself have all jumped from 10-12% to almost 30%.

I’m not going to go over the rest of the list, because that would just get way too long. However, I will drop a link to the spreadsheets of data for this survey and the previous one, so anyone who wants to can do some comparison of their own!

Question 4: What creators do you casually follow?

I won’t do as detailed of a comparison on this question, because there’s nothing to compare it to - this question wasn’t on the previous survey. However, it’s interesting to see how many more people follow Fundy, Nihachu, BadBoyHalo, Captain Puffy, Eret, Awesamdude, and Jack Manifold casually rather than as a primary favorite. Out of the top twelve, Karl, Quackity, Phil, and Tubbo are the only ones who don’t have a major discrepancy between the amount of people who follow them casually versus primarily.

I would be curious to hear people’s thoughts on why that’s the case! Personally, I would guess it’s a combination of each of their approaches to lore on the Dream SMP, the frequency and times of day that they stream, and the people they tend to make content with and be associated with by the fandom. I may go into that more later, but this post is already very long, so I’ll hold off for now. Here’s a link to this question’s spreadsheet for anyone who wants to take a closer look!

...And that’s a wrap! Good grief, this got long. Kudos to anyone who actually read the whole thing because I know my attention span would be challenged. I’m already thinking about the next survey - a couple people suggested that I add in questions about orientation and nationality, and while I want to keep the survey pretty tight in its scope, I am considering it. It would be even more data to process but it would be interesting to know!

I would love to hear people’s thoughts on these results! I’m only one person, so I know there’s interesting stuff I must have missed. Please, please feel free to reblog with your thoughts and observations! A lot of work went into this (both from me and from Cupid and Kal! Thank you guys again!), so I’m really hoping to hear what people think about it :D

I plan to reblog this and reply to some of the things people wrote in at the end, so stay tuned for that. And once again: thank you all for your interest in this project of mine <3 See you with another one in six months!

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Photo

Who wants more sad statistics~?

Because say hello to the color-coded guide to Marinette blame/mistakes! Obviously there’s some room for debate (even I struggled with how to color an episode from time to time), but it should be mostly accurate.

Blue = "Marinette wasn't really blamed for anything notable and didn't really suffer from Adrien" Cyan = "Marinette was blamed for something unrelated to Adrien that she didn't do/she shouldn't be made to feel bad for" (this one is probably the most subjective) Green = "Marinette was blamed/made a mistake but it had nothing to do with Adrien" Yellow = "Marinette doesn't technically make a mistake or get blamed, but is negatively impacted by her crush on/relationship to Adrien" Red = "Marinette either was blamed for/made a mistake that related to Adrien."

"Negatively impacted by her crush on Adrien" could mean generally anything, but it leans towards Marinette embarrassing herself in front of Adrien, characters making snippy/unnecessary comments about her crush, and things that wouldn't have happened if her Adrien crush didn't exist. In the case that Marinette makes a mistake/is improperly blamed for something not about Adrien (cyan/green) but also is negatively impacted by her relationship to him (yellow), whatever is given more attention will take priority. There could've easily been a lot of cyan+red episodes had I allowed myself to use two colors.

Now look at all that red, which is easily the most frequent color, and then try and tell me that Marinette's crush isn't just a tool to humiliate her and force her to make mistakes in order to fit the "Marinette makes a mistake" quota.

I've put the explanations below on my decisions for each episode, as well as the tally for everything together:

Season 1

"Stormy Weather" (red) - Marinette blames herself for leaving Manon, and they're only at the park in the first place because of her Adrien crush.

"The Bubbler" (red) - Marinette uses Lucky Charm explicitly to stop Chloe and Adrien from dancing together.

"The Pharoah" (green) - Ladybug drops her schoolbook; relatively minor in the grand scheme of things, but seems to be why the show forces Marinette to awkwardly try to keep Alya in the museum instead of just having Tikki directly point out where to go.

"Lady Wifi" (green) - Marinette overslept while doing homework and was late for class

"Timebreaker" (cyan) - Marinette is blamed for not being home to give the cake to Nadja... who came early and thus Marinette shouldn't have been expected to expect her

"Mr. Pigeon" (yellow) - Marinette embarrasses herself in front of Adrien, with Alya making faces at her all the while

"The Evillustrator" (cyan) - Marinette is blamed for ditching Sabrina when she has an akuma to worry about, accused of "being like Chloe" (i.e: the person who Sabrina immediately goes back to anyway)

"Rogercop" (red) - Marinette, after being accused, states that everyone has the potential to be guilty, but sidesteps Adrien when someone suggests it

"Copycat" (red) - Marinette, panicked by an embarrassing confession she left on Adrien's phone (thanks to Alya), steals it to delete the message (also thanks to Alya)

"Dark Cupid" (red) - Marinette forgets to sign the love letter addressed to Adrien, which Alya laughs at her for

"Horrificator" (red) - Marinette is pressured/convinced to play Mylene's role instead when Alya throws out that she'd be kissing Adrien

"Darkblade" (cyan) - Marinette doesn't want to run for class representative because she already has enough on her plate (...what a monster?); both Alya and Alix make snarky comments at her for this

"The Mime" (green) - Marinette deletes a video on Alya phone and spends the rest of the episode trying to recreate it

"Kung Food" (cyan) - Marinette blames herself for defending her great uncle and insulting Chloe (again... what a monster?), which leads to Chloe sabotaging Wang's cooking

"Gamer" (red) - Marinette enters the gaming competition solely for Adrien

"Animan" (yellow) - Marinette offers to get Nino a date with Alya, an event that wouldn't have taken place if not for Marinette's crush (either there wouldn't have been a zoo trip at all or Alya wouldn't have been there); in addition, Alya tells Nino about Marinette's Adrien crush, which Marinette is distraught by

"Antibug" (cyan) - Ladybug is blamed for "not accepting help from others" (except she did at the beginning of the episode) and not listening to Chloe (who is a habitual liar)

"The Puppeteer" (green) - Marinette folds to Manon's "baby doll eyes" and gives her something that Nadja insisted she not have

"Reflekta" (green) - Marinette tries to steal Guiseppe's SD camera card so Juleka's picture will need retaken

"Pixelator" (red) - Marinette shirks her job as Jagged's gopher in order to get back to Adrien as soon as possible

"Guitar Villain" (blue) - Not much happens, just cool Marinette stuff; there are technically scenes of Marinette embarrassing herself around Adrien, but either no one else was there to witness it or there wasn't any significant reaction to it

"Princess Fragrance" (red) - Alya forces Marinette to go talk to Adrien, which results in Marinette tripping and losing Tikki

"Simon Says" (cyan) - Marinette... I guess is at fault for struggling to keep up with schoolwork and hero duties? That's what you get for wanting to help people, Ladybug

"Volpina" (red) - Marinette is mocked for being jealous, her following Adrien is presented as her doing it jealously (she literally says that she's going to warn Adrien about Lila stealing the book from him before Tikki stops her, but okay), and she yells at Lila as Ladybug, which is also presented as being "only about Adrien."

"Origins - Part 1 (Ladybug & Cat Noir)" (green) - Ladybug neglects to capture the akuma, having forgotten that detail

"Origins - Part 2 (Stoneheart)" (green) - The mistake from Part 1 carries over... the episode also may or may not blame Marinette for encouraging Ivan.

blue - 1 cyan - 6 green - 7 yellow - 2 red - 10

Season 2

"A Christmas Special" (red) - Marinette's "Adrien blindness" causes her to jump to conclusions and believe that a Santa Claus lookalike is an akuma

"The Collector" (red) - Marinette lies to Master Fu in order to protect Adrien, not able to believe that Adrien could be Hawk Moth

"Despair Bear" (red) - Marinette goes to Chloe's party for Adrien and is repeatedly mocked/teased for this

"Prime Queen" (cyan) - Ladybug "makes a mistake" in getting upset at Nadja for trying to pry into her romantic relationships and her potential romance with Chat Noir

"Befana" (cyan) - Marinette is blamed for "lying" to her grandmother about going to a birthday party with her friends (she didn't) and "not wanting to spend time with her" (she did, Gina is the one who neglected Marinette for literal years)

"Riposte" (cyan) - One of the more subjective ones, but going frame-by-frame, Adrien's saber bends first yet the episode calls Marinette "flustered" and "new to fencing" to say that she's wrong in her choice

"Robostus" (blue) - Mostly free of crush and mistakes, episode focuses primarily on the main plot of the akuma being caused (if I had a color for Marinette just normally being mocked/embarrassed though, it'd be here)

"Gigantitan" (red) - Needs no explanation: Marinette is embarrassed in front of the girls multiple times and the entire subplot causes the akuma that almost hits Gorilla

"The Dark Owl" (green) - Ladybug orchestrates a situation in which the Dark Owl could save her so as to not hurt his feelings, which ends in him being found out, humiliated, and akumatized

"Glaciator" (red) - Marinette is upset because Adrien didn't show up to get ice cream with her, which leads to her blowing up on Andre

"Sapotis" (blue) - Marinette goes largely blameless for everything; not much here

"Gorizilla" (yellow) - Multiple "jokes"/"mocking" about Marinette revealing skin/being in her pajamas in front of Adrien

"Captain Hardrock" (blue) - Surprisingly void of blame on Marinette despite her being depressed over Adrien; if anything, Luka apologizes for making a teasing comment when she was upset

"Zombizou" (cyan) - Marinette is blamed for being upset with Chloe for ruining her gift for Miss Bustier

"Syren" (cyan) - Ladybug is blamed for keeping secrets from Chat Noir (look at the Adrien stans for reference)

"Frightningale" (red) - Marinette is bothered by Chloe being Ladybug, but Adrien is involved so the fandom can easily put blame on her concerning her Adrien crush (see Marinette salters for reference)

"Troublemaker" (red) - Marinette's Adrien pictures are intentionally inflated/exaggerated to humiliate her more

"Anansi" (green) - I wouldn't argue if someone suggested that this is a cyan: Marinette "makes a mistake" in cheating Nora's arm-wrestle with Nino since Nora was being unreasonable

"Sandboy" (green) - Marinette agrees with Tikki that they should do something to help Nooroo without asking Fu

"Reverser" (cyan) - Marinette peeks at Marc's work and tries to help him work with Nathaniel (I see, so when Alya meddles to push Marinette past her comfort zone, it's fine, but--); she also embarrasses herself in front of Adrien over this

"Frozer" (red) - Marinette suffers because Adrien's an idiot and has tons of people in relationships to ask advice from, and he chooses to ask Marinette; Marinette appears to be "blamed" for either wanting to move on (due to the girls fighting) or agreeing to go with Adrien, along with a "bonus" (almost earning a cyan) due to Chat throwing a hissy fit over her rejecting him

"Style Queen" (cyan) - Marinette is blamed for thinking that the magic ladybugs would bring the miraculous back to Fu (see "Sentibubbler" covering for Chat for reference on how the narrative sees this)

"Queen Wasp" (cyan) - Carried over from "Style Queen"; Ladybug is blamed for losing the miraculous

"Malediktator" (red) - Marinette is made to feel bad for being glad that her bully of many years is gone (almost earning a cyan here, or even a yellow), and this is all due to Adrien; he also unintentionally convinces her to give Chloe a miraculous (her "mistake" according to future episodes), which sets off a slew of events that makes her suffer

"Catalyst" (cyan) - Alya not believing Marinette due to her Adrien crush carries over from "Volpina," almost earning this a red, but Marinette also lies about her gift for Heroes' Day. However, the fact that she is completely sleep-deprived from the night before and was being made fun of for only bringing macarons is largely ignored by the narrative and treated too much as her fault

"Mayura" (red) - When going to correct her mistake from last episode, Adrien throwing a pity party for himself makes Marinette go back on it

blue - 3 cyan - 9 green - 3 yellow - 1 red - 10

Season 3

"Backwarder" (red) - Marinette gives Adrien the wrong letter (due to each slip of paper she has conveniently looking the exact same but the episode clearly indicates it to be her fault); she's also humiliated over this

"Weredad" (cyan) - Marinette lies to Chat Noir in a panic to protect her identity. The fact that Chat Noir is an idiot who wonders why Marinette might be on her own darn balcony and that Tikki doesn't offer a better solution for the situation is given no attention

"Chameleon" (red) - Alya believing that Marinette is only upset with Lila over Adrien presumably carries over from "Volpina" and "Catalyst;" Marinette's relationship with Adrien also seems to make her more inclined to believe in what he says about doing nothing about Lila

"Animaestro" (red) - No explanation needed; Marinette's Adrien crush makes her more inclined to believe Chloe (remember "Malediktator" and "Zombizou"?) when Chloe claims that Kagami stole her seat next to Adrien, which convinces Marinette to team up with Chloe against Kagami, and this leads to Marinette being embarrassed over her crush

"Bakerix" (green) - Marinette makes a mistake in... I guess riling up her grandfather? (this one's pretty subjective and I wouldn't argue with anyone who says this should be cyan)

"Silencer" (blue) - Regardless of what "Crocoduel" says, Marinette isn't blamed in this episode for challenging Bob Roth

"Oblivio" (cyan) - Marinette seems to weirdly be blamed/punished for getting upset with Chat Noir if the smugness of Chat+Alya about the taken picture is to be believed (perhaps """explained""" in "Reflekdoll" about Chat having his role to play as the "sense of humor")

"Stormy Weather 2" (yellow) - Marinette spends a portion of the episode sulking about the little progress she's made with Adrien

"Reflekdoll" (red) - Needs no explanation: Marinette's anxiety is caused by Adrien and she's blamed for it despite Alya orchestrating everything

"Oni-Chan" (red) - Marinette chases after Adrien and Lila, which is made to be completely about Marinette's crush on Adrien despite Marinette telling Tikki about her actual concerns (which end up coming true as Kagami gets akumatized)

"Miraculer" (cyan) - Chat gets snippy with Ladybug for not telling Chloe right away (apparently assuming that Ladybug doesn't have other obligations to attend to like school; she even tells Chat that she "wouldn't have time that day"), and Ladybug was literally about to before the sentimonster and Miraculer show up

"The Puppeteer 2" (red) - Marinette repeatedly pushed and punished for liking Adrien, then punished again in front of Adrien (who she thinks is a statue) when she was actually just taking the advice that Tikki gave her

"Desperada" (red) - The guitar scene (i.e: "huh, who would've known that my wingwoman for Adrien was actually trying to wingwoman me with Luka one time!"), Aspik (i.e: "wow, the guy who I thought was perfect because that's what the narrative is always telling me actually doesn't fit what the narrative was telling me!"), and that's all I need to say

"Startrain" (blue) - Mostly mistakeless on Marinette's end; the focus is on other characters/plots (again, if I had a color for Marinette being mocked/embarrassed though, it'd also go here)

"Kwamibuster" (blue) - Marinette isn't blamed for anything; even though Master Fu isn't aware of the events at first, Tikki apologizes to Marinette in front of him later

"Feast" (yellow) - Marinette is briefly distracted by Adrien until Alya chides her so that she can show Marinette the information she might as well have hand-delivered to Hawk Moth

"Ikari Gozen" (red) - Marinette tries to sabotage her and Kagami to prevent Kagami from meeting up with Adrien

"Timetagger" (cyan) - Tikki notes Marinette's bad excuses (which are due to the sheer amount of akuma) to the point where Alya had replaced her as babysitter before Marinette explained that she couldn't show up (I wouldn't argue with anyone who said this should be blue instead)

"Party Crasher" (red) - Marinette tries to crash the secret boys-only party in order to spend time with Adrien

"Gamer 2.0" (cyan) - Marinette+Ladybug is blamed for being upset that they have no time for anything, with Ladybug in particular "making the mistake" of taking over and failing due to Chat constantly goofing off despite her urging

"Chat Blanc" (red) - Marinette is pressured/threatened by the girl squad (specifically Rose) enough that she decides to sneak into Adrien's house

"Felix" (yellow) - Marinette, after "finally" confessing to Adrien (for like--the fourth time), ends up running off and rambling in front of Luka (not knowing that he's there), which embarrasses her

"Ladybug" (red) - Alya's doubts of Marinette's hatred of Lila (implied in "Volpina" and stated in "Catalyst" to be about her crush on Adrien) carries over as Alya chides Marinette for blaming Lila, and had Marinette not listened to Adrien in "Chameleon," Lila may have been stopped early on and she wouldn't have gotten expelled (otherwise, the episode would've gotten a "cyan" because how dare Marinette be emotional at being accused of cheating and get angry at Lila)

"Christmaster" (red) - Marinette lies to Chris (in the exact way that Alya does to Manon in "Stormy Weather" but sure) in order to protect her darn privacy so Chris doesn't find out about her chest full of Adrien gifts, which leads to Chris getting akumatized

"Heart Hunter" (red) - Ladybug neglects to detransform due to being distracted by Adrimi happening, which leads to long-lasting and overly harsh consequences

"Miracle Queen" (red) - Ladybug's mistake carries over from the previous episode

blue - 3 cyan - 5 green - 1 yellow - 3 red - 14

Total: blue - 7 cyan - 20 green - 11 yellow - 6 red - 34

#category: salt

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Dressed in Crimson

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Royalty AU)

Summary: Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open.

A/N: Guys I’m so excited for this one I really really loved writing it- it’s my fourth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April and it’s also written for @omgbigfluffwriting !!! I kinda immersed myself into this quite a bit- and it’s my longest oneshot I’ve ever written 🤭The specific historical period theyre in is not specified and the world that they’re in is entirely fictional and not based on any specific point in history- if you’ve ever watched Merlin that’s kinda the vibe I was thinking of just without the magic lol (please still ignore that the gif does not have an accurate clothing choice from Spencer I just wanted a good shot of his hair that I thought of while writing this) i feel like it’s becoming so obvious how much I love historical fiction lol 😂 I’d like to hear from you guys also so if you want to drop me an ask here! It can be about anything 🥰 hope y’all enjoy!!!

Warnings: 18+, Reader has a horrible Father, subtle hints about sexism, Classism, Period typical clothing, Reader and Spencer fight for a little bit, Smut, Dom Spencer, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Day dreaming about fucking in public, Spencer’s possessive as hell, Ignoring the potential consequences of a creampie

Main Masterlist Word count: 4.7k

My day started out like any other with my corset made of whalebone being cinched tightly around my figure with my chemise underneath of course. Every time the ends of the laces were pulled taught on my body I thought of the days where I could get away with not having this wretched piece of clothing cutting off my breath. Those days had been so long ago, when I was just a small child, almost so long ago that I had to strain my memory to recall it. It wasn’t even until I was done clutching my mother’s skirts before I started to be forced into the confines of the worst invention in history. I would have rather muck in the mud in pants like the men, unless there was a reason for me to actually want to wear a dress.

Today, I had chosen a crimson colored gown, one of my only favorites. The front of the bodice was adorned with embroidery, one embroidered with a glistening gold thread. The sleeves were long and ever so slightly off my shoulders, ending just at my wrist. It had been perfectly handcrafted just for me, a seamstress being hired to slave away at each detail with precision. If it had been up to my father the seamstress would have been paid little to nothing for this masterpiece, but you had your own coins stashed away from your allowance to give extra to anyone that gave you goods and services.

The dress was my favorite almost solely because of someone else’s appreciation for the lush fabric, no one needed to know about that though. I did like to look nice on certain occasions, but only special ones. There was no special occasion scheduled for me to have a reason for wearing it, well none that the greater majority of the court would know about.

Only my maid Emily knew what my excursion would be today, why I dressed up so nicely. There was no feasible way for me to hide my dalliances from her, especially the one I was about to go to as it required some higher levels of stealth to be able to evade my father’s guards.

His name was Spencer, one of my father’s stable boys. I loved him more than anything, definitely more than any potential match that was arranged for me.

I gifted him whatever I could without raising suspicion, though I often hid my purchases if someone asked by excusing them as more frivolous in nature, such as a new dress. Spencer had no real need for pretty things as he’d said before, except from myself- those were his past words not mine. And, he did express to me how much he loved the dress I was wearing right now, which was tied to how we had first met.

When I first met him I had been looking for a fabric in the market stalls. I hadn’t really wanted to, I was content with all the dresses that I owned right now, they had no ornament on them, just how I preferred. However, my father demanded I get something fancier for some sort of frivolous ball that was coming up that undoubtedly had no reason to take place besides bleeding everyone else dry.

I brushed hands with him for the first time as I was looking for the material I wanted, something just fancy enough to appease my father. The stall filled with fabrics bordered one that had stacks of books, I would have much preferred to be looking at that one. My hand had gotten close to the edge while I was inspecting a fabric and it had bumped into a man who was looking at one of the books.

When I had looked up to see who had brushed my hand I was met with frantic eyes filled with apology. His stuttered apology had covered my attempt to assure him that it was fine, it had taken me grabbing both of his hands to steady him for him to listen to my reassurance.

When he had introduced himself to me after I asked it flowed into a long conversation. I could have talked to him forever, I would be content to never talk to anyone else. For a stable boy he was exceptionally smart, which I learned was from his mother who had made sure he was educated even in poverty, specifically through having him read anything she could get her hands on. From then on our blossoming friendship had flourished, and had eventually developed into more.

I slung a shawl over my shoulders made out of a fabric of similar color to my gown and also grabbed a purse filled with coins with a smile due to my reminiscing . It wasn’t cold enough for one of my velvet cloaks just yet and most of the walk down to where Spencer was housed was indoors.

The walk from my rooms in the main part of the castle to the stables on the lower floor towards the East end was longer than I would have wanted. Truthfully, I wished I would not have to live in a castle at all, I’d rather live in the small house that Spencer lived. It was just past the castle grounds at the edge of the surrounding village adjacent to the stables so he did not have to walk far for work in the mornings.

My feet tiptoed down the corridors carefully, I was lucky that I had figured out to be somewhat light on my feet otherwise I’d be caught swiftly for sure. I passed by the rooms of most of the lords and ladies staying at court, I always wondered why some chose to stay here, it was positively suffocating here. The door I used to go outside was through the kitchen, that had a myriad of breakable things strewn about that I had to stealthily avoid. Luckily, I knocked nothing over that would have woken up the cooks who slept just a room over. Turning the handle of the door had to be a slow process so no one would hear the creak of the knob while it was turned, but I did successfully make it out with no disturbance.

Beginning the stretch of my journey that was outdoors was perhaps the most risky. Guards were stationed around the perimeter of the castle in greater numbers compared to the ones indoors which were only stationed by important rooms. I weaved my way through, in some aspects it was even more confusing than the inside of the castle. Hiding behind each of the pillars was the most effective way to avoid them, the construction of them making a series of small blind spots. I had just snuck behind one of the last ones when one of the guards nearest to me moved forward a little. I stopped breathing immediately, holding it tight in my chest while I plastered myself as close as I could to the back of the pillar. My nails dug into the stone of the pillar in fear, if I was ever to be found sneaking out at night or worse in the presence of Spencer, I would either never leave my rooms again or be whisked away into marriage even earlier than planned.

When the guard did not move to investigate further I let go of the breath I was holding, still making sure to let go of it slowly so he could not hear me. Moving swiftly forward after I had taken a breath was a bit of a challenge, my knees had gone weak with fear. I pushed myself to take each step even with the weakness in my knees, there was no way I could linger any longer.

Finally I was no longer walking on stone, I was walking on the muddy earth now. It was nice to feel the ground under my feet instead of the harsh stone, it told me that I was now only a handful of strides away from Spencer’s home.

The leaves littering the ground mixing with mud crunched under my feet even as I tip toed carefully. The guards may be in the distance now, but I didn’t feel keen on testing how good their hearing may potentially be.

Passing the stables was the last marker for my journey, then I would be able to see his home too. As I passed the sleeping horses by anticipation began to replace the fear inside me. It had been a while since I had been able to come see him, making me yearn for his touch even more.

His home came into view, even in the dead of night I could make it out if I squinted my eyes hard. My pace picked up exponentially when I landed my eyes on his humble abode. It was a quaint home, fallen into disrepair as he could not afford to fix it on the meager salary that my father paid him. The purse of gold that I had brought with me was exactly for that, the repairs. He would most likely protest the gift just like any other thing I had tried to gift him. From my experience the most effective way to get him to accept anything was to leave it there with no conversation about it. I think it made him feel less guilty even though in my opinion he was owed the money in the first place, no one should have to live in squalor when they did their job every day without question or complaint.

When I finally was at the entrance of his home I entered through the door swiftly, too impatient to wait or knock. Stress melted from my shoulders when I caught sight of him, hunched over one of the books I had given him, candles strewn around to give him enough light to read.

The candles he had lit to be able to read in the night illuminated us both with a glow. He would always compliment me whenever we found ourselves in similar lighting such as this, but in my opinion there was no rivalry. Each time the candle flickered it brightened up every highlight of him, letting me see his wild curls, brown eyes deeper than any others I had ever seen, and a body that I had no doubt was crafted to perfection illuminated in a beautiful glow.

I went to compliment him just as he always did with me, but I became mesmerized when he stood up, then moving his way closer to me.

“It is nice to see you, it feels like it’s been an eternity.” It may seem dramatic for him to say that it felt that long, but I echoed his sentiment willingly.

“It is nice to see you too, Spencer. I agree it’s been far too long.” I was sure it had been at least a full moon cycle since we had the pleasure of being alone with one another, our duties to my father keeping us separated.

It had been painful whenever I would go out for a ride on my horse, to see him hand me the reins of my mare and be unable to reach out to touch him. There had been one day, about a week ago, that I had let my hand brush against his own for a moment while he handed the reins to me. It was an innocent brush of a touch, that also had a barrier in the form of my leather gloves. To anyone else it had meant nothing, but to me and him, it meant everything.

His eyes were blown wide with desire, as I suspected mine were as well. We let ourselves take in the sight of each other for a minute longer before Spencer broke the silence with a request,

“Drop your shawl, so I may see you better.” A stable hand commanding someone of such a stature such as I would’ve seen him whipped if it was any other person before him. His boldness was not unexpected, it had taken a while for him to grow so comfortable with my company. In truth, he had been quite scared when I had first met him. It was perfectly understandable considering his employer was my father, who was not known for his kindness. And, even then after his fear had faded he still had a shy exterior for a while, it only had been lifted when we began to become extremely comfortable around each other. We were each other's only form of solace in this world, we could only escape our reality when we were together.

Instead of having malice in my voice like other nobles would I simply pulled the shawl more taught around my shoulders and teased, “Why should I?”

The expression on his face was one of the ones I loved seeing on his face the most, a sly smirk. He came closer to me, with careful steps as if he was waiting for the right moment to pounce. We were so close together when he stopped moving, but still not touching. He was playing a game with me, not touching until I obliged him. As he leaned in to speak into the shell of my ear he was careful with the way he tilted his body forward so I could only feel his breath on the small portion of my skin, “Because you like it when I look at you.”

My arms fell to my sides releasing my shawl to fall from my shoulders onto the floor at his words, as they rang true. I did want him to look at me and also, of course touch me.

“You wore your favorite dress.” He observed, still not quite touching. I didn't need to answer the statement he made with the thought in my mind ‘I wore it for you’ because I knew he had already figured that out. His observational skills were keenly honed in by his constant reading whenever he had the chance, often reading books that I had gifted to him. He even sometimes read well into the night, straining his eyes in the darkness when the candle was almost merely a wick. I had found that out the first- and sadly, only time I had the opportunity to stay overnight. Since then I had pushed him to get more rest as I knew how hard he was worked to the bone during the day, courtesy of my father.

His eyes were staring at my dress, pupils blown wide, his mind seemingly off in another world maybe thinking about all the things he wanted to do to me.

“Please, touch me.” I didn’t need to speak loud, only a soft whisper for him to hear me because of how close he already was to me. So close, yet so far.

He raised his large hands, calloused from working so hard day in and day out. My own hands were soft from the expensive creams I had been pampered with since I was just a small child. I liked his hands better, they showed the hard work he used everyday to cultivate his beautiful mind and body.

I subtly licked my lips in anticipation of his touch, wanting to feel every inch of his hand roaming my body, from the tips of his fingers to where his palm met his wrist.

His fingers then started to trace over the top of my corset, just a hair away from touching the swell of my breasts. My chest was rising and falling with each breath, each inhale pushing it slightly closer to his fingers. With each fall of my chest I felt the need to quickly let go of my breath, so I could once again inhale and be brought closer to his touch.

“Please touch me.” I repeated, breathless from forcing myself to breathe into his touch.

“I am touching you.” His fingers still did not move to touch my skin, only the crimson accented in gold. It was his turn to tease me now, I was at his mercy, ready and waiting for it.

I could beg again, though quite obviously I could not convince him with it. As he was running his fingers over the cloth for what felt like the millionth time, still not touching me, I teased him back instead of begging, “No you are touching my dress.”

A mere ghost of a touch from his fingers then floated across my skin. What should have calmed my heaving chest from my gasping breaths only served to make my breathing even heavier. The slight touch was still not enough, only making my desire for his hands to roam every inch of my body even more severe.

“Perhaps I should take your corset off, to help you breathe better.” He said, as if he read my exact thoughts.

“I like your thinking.”

I was then spun around so my back was pressed into his chest. It soothes my desire for his touch some, but we both had barriers of cloth preventing me from fully feeling him. I could feel some of the warmth that was hidden underneath his shirt, which was made up of a much billowing white linen that compared to his trousers.

If my skirts were not so large I wondered if I were to push back if my behind would come in contact with his cock and whether or not his desire would be as prominent as the slickness dampening the bottom layer I was wearing. I’d have to find a way to find a pair of trousers then, sometime soon, so I could try to grind into him at a later date. There was no doubt that we’d surely find ourselves in a similar position again.

As his hands started to undo the laces of my corset with care, despite both of our desperation, a thought slipped out from his lips that I’m sure he intended to keep to himself, “I wish I could call you mine in public.”

“My father would kill you!” The taste of my voice would have been bitter in anyone’s mouth, quickly spat out in the same way I said those words. Perhaps my quick anger to his innocent thought would be insane to some, most would probably consider it a sweet thought. However, he knew from previous conversations that when those sweet thoughts were expressed that all I could feel was a heavy sadness sitting inside me, instead of desire.

Tears clouded my vision, so much so that I did not see Spencer’s arms come around me to envelop me in an embrace. I flinched a bit at first, but then melted when I realized it was him. We held each other for a while as I sobbed softly into his billowy white shirt.

He stroked my shoulder with his large hands that I loved, but the corset he had not taken off fully yet was blocking me from feeling his touch the way I wanted.

“Take it off please.” I begged softly, I wanted to feel his skin on mine, and not just his lips or his hands. I wanted to feel every inch of him.

The laces of my corset were already half undone because of his previous attempt at getting it off of me. He finished the job, pulling the corset off of my body, tossing it down to the floor. He may have loved the dress, but he was showing me through his actions that he loved what was underneath more.

Turning me around was his next step, so he could properly kiss me. The pressure was soft at first, as if he was testing the waters to see how I would feel. Feeling his soft lips on my own just made me want to pull him in further, and I did so. My fingers tangled into his curls as the kiss devolved into pure passion, we were both throwing ourselves fully into it, trying to express our feelings nonverbally.

His own hands moved to cup my breasts as he backed me into the cot he slept on every night. I did not let him push me down on the bed so he was on top of me like normal, this time I wanted to be on top for a while. When I straddled his hips the first thing I felt was his cock straining in his pants. I unbuckled them so I could wrap my hands around his cock, I wanted to feel his thick and heavy length in my hands. Precum was already dripping down his hard cock as I pumped his length with my hands. My own arousal was dampening the underneath of the skirt I still had on. Spencer confirmed it himself when he snuck his fingers underneath the fabric to play with my pleasure spots. We both groaned as his fingers entered inside me while he rubbed circles into my swollen pearl.

My skirt was bunched up in his hands, pulling up all the way to the tops of my thighs. He soon got fed up with the skirt being in the way though and maneuvered me to shuck it off of me as fast as possible. Being bare before him did not make me wither in self consciousness, it made me lean into his touch even more.

He leaned up to kiss me again while I grabbed his length and restraddled him. I was definitely wet enough to have him enter me, my separation from him making me desperate, it had been so long since we had the chance to be together like this.

I then sunk down on his length slowly, it was for me to adjust to his size and to relish in the feeling of him sliding inside me. I stilled on top of him as the back of my thighs hit the top of his, he filled me with perfection. Spencer only let me be still for a little while before his hands gripped my hips and started to guide me to roll my hips. The pace I set- well Spencer was the one who set it, was slow and deep, I was languidly rolling my hips while he thrusted up into me at a similar pace.

My face twisted in pleasure as his thrusts became more powerful, still at the same pace but with more force behind them.

“Fuck- I want everyone to know that you’re mine!” It was the exact same thing he had spoken to me earlier that had sparked anger and melancholy inside me. This time it caused a spark of pleasure instead, making me think about him fucking me in front of everyone claiming me as his.

“My father would kill you.” This time when I said it it was gasped into his mouth with little to all anger disappeared from it.

My words made Spencer growl which was swallowed by a possessive kiss. He then flipped me over roughly, my back now pressed into the cot. A high pitched squeak had escaped my lips unintentionally in surprise, it was quickly changed into a moan when he entered me again. This time the pace did not start off slow as I did not need to adjust to him inside of me.

“I don’t care.” His speech was agitated as he pounded into me, holding my legs open with both hands spreading me out for him to see everything, “No matter what anyone says or does, you’re mine.”

Pleasure sparked through me at his possessive words, I grabbed desperately at the cotton sheets trying to hold onto something as my finish was fast approaching. When the cotton sheets were not enough of a stabilizer for me I lifted my hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him close.

“Come on I know you’re close, I’m close too baby.” My nails dug into his neck and back during the latter half of his sentence causing him to slightly wince. I knew he enjoyed it though because of the question that he groaned out next, “Can I cum inside you?”

Biting my lip hard was painful as I nodded my head in response to his question that had me falling over the edge. The consequences of him finishing inside me danced in the back of my head, I chose to ignore them as he did. I did not care as he filled me and I rode out my release, even if I was to somehow get pregnant because of our recklessness it did not matter. I’d gladly have his child, even if it meant I’d have to go on the run.

Instead of falling on top of me directly after finishing like I’ve heard most men do with their wives he gently removed himself from my entrance and laid down beside me on the cot. Bliss was mingling in the air between us, both unburdened by any of our problems that would become a reality as soon as I left for the night. For now we would just hold onto the bliss until it was cruelly snatched away from reality.

Spencer had a solution as always to our problems, and seemed to be thinking about the same thing I was with his next suggestion,

“Run away with me.” We were both covered in sweat that had cropped up from our activities, a contrast to the chilly air outside and in the castle. It was nice to feel warm every time I was in his arms, It was hard to resist being greedy and deciding to stay in his arms forever. It had crossed my mind more than once, but there was always something stopping me from going through with it fully. I opened my mouth to point out all the reasons why that would not be possible when he added, “And, before you say no I want to ask- what’s stopping you?”

His reasoning was sound, as it often was. My mouth opened and closed, struggling to find a reasoning before I accepted that he was right. The only potential downfall was my father’s forces searching everywhere to find me, but it would be worth it. We could also easily cross the border into nearby lands ruled by someone else that was not in alliance with him. I already felt lighter thinking about being free from the confines of the castle- and hopefully my corset. Though I would have to keep the crimson dress I wore today, even if I only wore it around him, It was his favorite and it symbolized the day that we met. He glanced over at me just as I did the same, looking right into his eyes as I spoke,“Alright.”

The light that sparked in his eyes made my heart soar, I could feel just from his gaze how ecstatic he was to spend his life with me. I didn’t need any words to know how much he loved me.

We basked for a moment in the presence of our love, Spencer broke the silence again when he started planning,“You need to go pack!”

I moved myself to sit up even though my limbs protested, wanting to sleep after our post coital bliss. A soft smile was exchanged between the two of us, “I’ll pack light, only the stuff I need.”

The purse of gold I had brought for him would no longer be used to fund his repairs, but to fund our life together. I climbed on top of him again leaning forward to capture him in a kiss that was much more chaste than the ones earlier in the night.

“I. love. you.” He whispered in between kisses making my eyes wet with tears. They weren’t born out of sadness, but of happiness that I had someone to love me as much as Spencer did.

“I love you too, I will see you soon.” I pulled myself away from his lips even though I did not want to, I then got up to leave reluctantly. Though it was easier than previous departures as I knew that it would be the last one that I would have to complete. My whole being was lighter and happier than I had ever felt before as I snuck back with a spring in my step. The only hint of what I was about to do, where I was about to go, was the mud stained at the hemline of my crimson dress.

Ask me anything

—-

Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith (why wont tumblr let me tag you😭

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb @jakobsdump

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler smut #30 fics in 30 days

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simplepotatofarmer · 3 years

Text

technoblade: a takedown pt. 2

(not clickbait) (okay maybe a little)

aka i go over every argument people make against c!techno one by one and determine whether they’re valid, false, or a mixture of both. i rewatched every single stream/video, including those on his alt channel, so i could approach this with the most information possible. i’ll be breaking this up into parts because there’s just too much otherwise. all about the characters unless stated.

techno has a victim complex - false

this is one of the first takes i saw in fandom and it’s always baffled me.

a victim complex is when someone holds the constant belief that they’re a victim, that everything is being done to specifically hurt them, and that no one else feels as much pain as they do, if they acknowledge that other people are hurt at all. that’s the clinical usage. (i know this, on a personal level, because my grandmother was told by two psychologists that she had a victim complex. she left both of them, saying they were trying to paint her as a bad person.)

techno has never shown a constant belief he’s a victim. in fact, he often shrugs off a lot of the things that’s happened to him - when talking to quackity about the execution, he says ‘yeah, that’s fair’ when quackity points out what techno did.

when techno had his ‘dang, the whole world is against me’ moment, it was in a moment when there were wanted posters for him, propaganda against him. he’s valid in feeling that way and that feeling didn’t even last for long.

expressing his hurt at tommy’s betrayal (and whether or not you believe it’s a betrayal, techno thought of it as such. i’ll address that in another point.) doesn’t mean he has a victim complex. techno felt hurt. there is a difference between feeling hurt in a messy situation where both parties felt pain and having a victim complex. or being angry at an unfair execution in which your friend is also hurt.

this isn’t a constant thing that techno does, either. he struggles with expressing himself despite being an emotional person. his paranoia that someone will try to kill him is not unfounded and also not something that he brings up constantly. and it’s the constant part that really takes away from the idea that techno has a victim complex. this isn’t his world view. he doesn’t think everything is done to hurt him. he doesn’t believe everyone’s actions are targeted at him. and that is the key components for a victim complex.

techno killed the bees in new l’manberg on doomsday - ehhhhhh mostly false

now, i’m not going to say that the bees wouldn’t have been killed regardless. they probably would have.

but the idea techno did it on purpose (which is bizarrely a take i have seen) just isn’t true.

like, it sucks. bees are my favorite. but take it up with philza minecraft. techno might have given phil the wither skulls but he didn’t tell him to summon them on top of the bee house.

techno should have been more upfront with tommy: valid

first and foremost, i want to state that techno did tell tommy what he intended. he told tommy that he could ‘sit it out’ when he destroyed l’manberg. he was upfront with tommy but he never truly pushed the issue and he should have. one of techno’s biggest flaws is his lack of communication skills.

techno betrayed tommy by teaming up with dream: complicated but mostly false

this one is difficult because tommy did feel as if techno had betrayed him and i don’t want to discount what he feels; tommy is valid in his feelings, they’re real.

so the question here is, are they objectively true? did techno betray tommy?

the simple answer is ‘no’.

techno teamed up with dream after tommy had left him for tubbo. (which i always feel like i have to clarify i think was the obvious outcome and i don’t blame tommy for that.) at that point in time, tommy had already broken their alliance. techno had no obligation to tommy at all. the partnership that they had was based on the two of them not being aligned with new l’manberg. once tommy went back to tubbo and sided with new l’manberg, techno was no longer on his side. there was no betrayal in that.

the other point that’s often brought up is that teaming with dream, specifically, was a betrayal because of what dream did to tommy.

there’s two issues with this: first, techno himself said dream is not his enemy. he said this after tommy had moved in with him in his ‘becoming incredibly rich’ stream. techno was only opposed to dream because he was teamed up with tommy. he had no personal grudge with dream. second, while techno certainly knew that tommy was afraid of dream and that dream had done something, he didn’t know the details. yes, the way tommy was acting probably should have been a clue - and probably would be for anyone else - but techno is notoriously bad with people.

now, tommy was certainly hurt by techno teaming up with dream and that’s the reason i don’t list this point as completely false.

techno has never apologized for what he’s done: mostly true

but not valid.

the words ‘i’m sorry’ have certainly been uttered by techno and specifically to tubbo before he killed him during the red festival. he has apologized and later explained himself to tubbo, who accepted that reasoning.

apologies, much like forgiveness, are not owed. they can be deserved, they can be the right thing to do, but it’s not something that a person is required to do. not even to become a good person.

the best indicator of that is changed behavior and techno has changed since doomsday. he’s acknowledged that he hurt people, despite not apologizing, and changed his tactics.

techno has never considered that he could be wrong or reflected on what he’s done: false

if you haven’t watched techno’s pov completely, i can understand why you would think this is the case.

but techno has reflected on what he’s done. he’s even admitted that not only is he not the best example of anarchism but that he’s not the best person.

he tells niki that he’s been a bad example and that he’s trying to change that because he wants to lead through example. and this is an important conversation because she’s the first person he seeks out. he knows she’s been affected by what’s happened and by what he’s done.

in the turtle stream, he tells phil that he’s ‘trying to be a better person’.

this is a point that i see used against techno often and, like the point above, is one of the ones that frustrates me the most. because, again, it is understandable but upon watching techno’s pov, you can see that it isn’t accurate. not only has techno reflected on his past actions, he’s come to the conclusion that he was wrong. his tactics were wrong and he has said as much, has demonstrated that he understands that and is working to change.

he still believes in his ideals, he still believes that government is inherently corrupt and - this is conjecture - i have no doubts that he wouldn’t resort to violence against a government, in the same way he used violence to help take down the eggpire. violence isn’t inherently cruel. it’s a tool, one that techno used to wield without thought (or because he believed it was the only way he would be heard) but now it’s one that has been tempered. if techno is a weapon, he used to be a crude one and saw that instead of cutting out the rotten bits, he was leaving a jagged scar and changed.

that doesn’t mean he won’t use violence again, it doesn’t mean that he won’t backslide or that someone won’t be hurt, but it does mean the idea he has never reflected on what he’s done is incorrect.

techno reflected on what he’s done and realized he was wrong, not about his beliefs, not about anarchy or even violence as a whole, but his tactics.

if you read this far, thank you. i know last time i said i would be tackling the butcher army but that has been requiring a lot of vod watching from other perspectives to be able to speak on it accurately. and adding it to this would honestly make this post disgustingly long (part one was almost 2k words, rip)

#technoblade #dream smp #niki nihachu #tommyinnit #dsmp analysis #dream smp meta #dsmpblr #loyal does meta #me just chucking this at the dash while i watch esports like

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poptod · 3 years

Text

The Old Gods

Description: Jack has to get close to a powerful suspect. Jack also ponders upon his humanity.

Notes: genuinely didnt meant for this to get so long, my apologies, i just like writing conversations bc i never get to have them. also! I hate myself so much for writing supernatural fanfiction in the good year of our lord 2021. its not my fault, it was the only show i could watch with my cousin that we both liked. anyway! lmk if you like it i could do a part two WC: 11k

The nearest library could hardly be called a library. A more accurate description would be a collection of books––a small collection––that could be read freely but never taken from the library itself. There was little need within the Winchesters to visit the library, considering they had one in their home filled with mythical lore, but the records of Kansas and neighboring cities and states were detailed thoroughly in the nearest library.

Jack knew a great many things; inherent natures and laws of the universe, the experience of power and of fear, both before him and within him. Many things he'd seen deserved to be feared, exposing him to dangers often unheard of amongst regular children.

Three months into existence, however, Jack liked to think he knew more than he did when he was born. This was because he'd spoken to more people, experienced more things, and learned select things about his mother, his father, his family, and strangers. Still, there were things that puzzled him––the age of the world was clear in his mind (4.543 billion years, four months, 22 days, 6 hours, and 52 seconds) but how humanity progressed into what they now were astounded him.

"Humans started as... these creatures with unending curiosity," Castiel explained to him, his hands folded neat in his lap but hidden by his too-long trenchcoat sleeves. "Ceaseless innovation. They started without language but they always had kindness. I think.. that's why God favored them, at least at first."

"So... kindness is a form of.. intelligence?" Jack asked slowly, his brow furrowed tight as he stared past his father.

"I believe so," he said, shifting in his seat. "Kindness drove these animals to building homes, to conversing with one another, to creating a better world for descendants they would never know. It's quite beautiful, actually."

"Am I a part of that story?"

Only half-human, only half-alive, only half the story, belonging to nothing concrete. Jack wasn't really human, leaving him alone in his species.

"Yes," Castiel said without hesitation.

Civilization first started off in a number of areas. The first book Jack found dealt with the fertile crescent northeast of Africa, where Mesopotamia brought forth a number of societies, of cultures, meshed together over the course of thousands of years. Sumerians were one of the first to build their cities, creating writing, the wheel, and the plow in their haven apart from the unpredictable and often violent wild.

But no––the next book Jack found stated that Jericho was the oldest city, west to the fertile crescent near the shore of the Mediterranean and the Dead Sea. The citystate was independent from any other power, often becoming abandoned from raids only to return to high populations, as humans flocked back to the spring water that still poured from inside the earth to this day.

Over the rest of the day spent in the nearest library, Jack learned there was no single spot in which civilization was created and then spread from. The Nile in Africa brought forth Egypt, the Indus river in Pakistan birthed the Harappan civilization, and the two rivers Yellow and Yangtze in China created the first asian cities. From there villages, towns, and cities spread like mold across the earth's surface, eventually bringing humans to inhabit every continent and nearly every environment known on earth.

There were far too many things to know, and the strain of reading on his eyes eventually forced him to retire for the day. He hardly understood anything yet, but the librarian was understanding as to his prolonged stay, and wished him a good evening when he left. He beamed a bright smile despite the strange pain growing behind his eyes, and waved good-bye.

Dean gave him painkillers when he got back to the bunker after Jack thoroughly (and unnecessarily) described his headache.

"Humans are... strange," Jack said, his brow furrowed in deep thought. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning over an empty bowl of cereal.

"Not wrong, but, care to elaborate?" asked Sam, who was sitting across from him at the kitchen table, a newspaper and pen in his hand.

"Castiel said you created the first cities out of a desire to.. to protect each other, and to keep yourselves safe. And then the first thing you do when you meet other cities is to go to war with them."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, leaning back as he set the newspaper aside. This would take a little more concentration than a passing ear.

"People are scared by things they don't know," Sam began only to be cut off.

"Why?"

"They don't know if it's dangerous. You didn't trust us, at first, either. We didn't know whether to trust you. Remember?"

"Oh," Jack said softly.

"Yeah. But you're right," he said with a long sigh. "It's strange. We're... strange."

"Are humans inherently good?"

"I don't think anyone is inherently good," Sam said, and Jack straightened his posture, suddenly confused by his claim. "Every person – every thing, every living thing has – has the capacity for good and evil. It's really just up to the individual to decide which side they want to give into."

"Am I a good person?"

"First off, you're not really a person," said another voice from the doorway.

Sam and Jack both turned at the same time, meeting the eye of Dean, who had yet to change out of his bathrobe despite it being 2PM.

"Second off, you haven't been alive long enough to be a good person," he continued as he entered, an empty coffee cup in hand.

"Dean –" Sam began, only to be cut off.

"What? It's the truth."

The coffee machine buzzed loudly once Dean pushed a few of the buttons, setting his cup beneath the nozzle. He muttered something to himself before turning back to the kitchen table.

"Anything strange in the paper?" He asked, leaning against the counter.

"Maybe," said Sam.

He grabbed the paper again, delving into the details of a nearby missing persons case that soon faded out of Jack's state of mind. His thoughts were still absorbed in his existence, in his beginnings, and how they compared to the beginnings of humans. At least with angels he knew everything; that was how angels were born. Knowing everything.

Jack remained seated at the table when Sam and Dean left, still stewing in his thoughts that he imagined would never go away. It was half an hour later when the two brothers returned, this time fully dressed, and packed up on their way to the car.

"We've gotta go find some local records," Dean said.

"So we're headed to the library," Sam finished, and the two gave each other odd glances at the coincidental synchronicity.

"I was there a couple days ago," Jack said, suddenly perking up. "Can I come with you?"

"Sure, just don't get in the way," Dean said with a dismissive hand, already leaving the doorway.

Sam pursed his lips, letting out a bitter, almost apologetic chuckle before he followed.

He liked the middle seat. It didn't have a seatbelt, but he wasn't sure what seatbelts were for anyways, and the middle seat allowed him easy access to see both of the Winchesters. Dean never spared a glance in his direction while he drove, but Sam offered awkward, curt smiles.

Technically Jack could just fly to the library in an instant, but the drive into town was pretty, lined with the colors of autumn. Recently winds had taken up a more brisk edge, marking the absence of birds that flew in packs overhead. He scooted to one of the window seats, craning his neck awkwardly to look up and out of the glass, grinning at the ravens flying through the orange and gold trees.

The librarian showed the three men where the records were kept, directing them towards missing persons cases when they requested it. While Sam and Dean thumbed through the records, Jack returned to ancient history books, studying art and images from Vedic India.

There, amongst the carvings printed on soft paper, he found something rather odd. He stood from his position on the floor, still staring intensely at the print as he walked over to the table Sam and Dean sat at.

"Hey Jack," Sam said as he sat down, gently placing the book on the table. He scanned Jack's hunched posture before he asked, "something up?"

"I found something... strange," he said, his brow still knotted neatly above curious eyes.

"Yeah well, join the club, kid," Dean said with a groan, wiping his face with his hand.

Jack opened his mouth to ask what they'd seen, but Sam answered before he could speak.

"There's been repeated attacks, kind of," he said, waving his hand vaguely. "Once every ten years a couple of kids go missing. Always two kids, always on the same day of the year."

"And another anomaly," Dean said, reaching over to a stack of papers and slapping them on the table in front of Jack.

Big, black words displayed the newspaper title, and below it, the date of publishing. January 4th, 1967. The main article dealt with a concert happening in a nearby city, and the image printed with it displayed a number of concert-goers, most of them in their teens or early adulthood. Hidden behind several other people, a familiar face appeared––the librarian. Unhindered by time.

"Is that..."

"Big boots over there?" Dean asked, pointing with his thumb in your general direction.

You were sorting through a stack of books, but as Jack looked down, he found you were wearing rather large boots. The ends of your pants drowned in them.

"Do you think they're related?" Jack asked as he turned back to the Winchesters.

"Possibly," Sam said with a nod. "Bit early to tell. But, uh..."

Sam trailed off as his eyes focused on something past Jack's shoulder. He, as well as Dean, turned to meet your eyes that quickly darted away once all three of them were looking at you.

"I think I have an idea," Sam said.

Dean and Jack curiously tilted their heads to the side at the same time, though when Dean noticed that, he fixed himself immediately.

"I think they have a thing for you," he said in a much quieter voice.

"Me?" Jack asked, pushing his finger into his chest.

"Yeah. You could get a little closer and see if something's up."

"Are you seriously setting up Jack with a fuckin' demon, for all we know?" Dean asked flatly, earning an odd look from Sam, who had never heard Dean protest putting Jack in danger.

"Dean, Jack's dad is a demon-angel thing. I don't think it's a big deal," he said.

That seemed to shut the older Winchester up.

"Hm," Jack hummed as he debated the idea. "I also found something strange."

"Oh, right," Sam said, clearing his head with a shake. "What was it?"

"It was also... the librarian," he said with a deep frown. "In one of the books."

He pushed forward the textbook, opening it to reveal the page in which he'd found your face. The stone expression was remarkably similar to your traits, from the curve of your nose to the positioning of your eyes, and the small, polite smile on your lips.

"I found it in the history section," Jack explained. "It says it's from Vedic India."

A quick Google-search later, Sam was reading out the age of Vedic India.

"According to this it says the Vedic age was approximately around 1500 to 800 B.C., so... about 2,500 years ago."

"Wow, this fucker's old," Dean snorted.

Sam shot him a look over the top of his computer screen.

Having found the information they were looking for, the Winchesters began to pack up their belongings and their scribbled notes, shoving them into their bags or into their many-pocketed coats. Jack, on the other hand, prepared himself for talking to you, hoping his ineptness towards social situations with humans wouldn't be too obvious. He swallowed through the knot in his throat, taking a shaking breath in an attempt to steady himself.

It didn't work.

"Dean, what am I supposed to say to them?" He whispered when they were already approaching the front desk, his palms growing sweaty.

"I don't know, their job or something? Something normal," he very unhelpfully advised.

"Thanks for letting us stay for the day," Sam said with a polite smile, handing back one of the printed out records you'd fetched for them from beneath your desk.

"Not a problem. You keep quiet. I like that in a reader," you said, smiling back as you glanced between the three of them.

None of them moved, and your expression turned to mild confusion. Dean had to jab Jack in the side to get him to speak. He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean motioned something to Sam, and the two of them quickly left for the car, leaving Jack alone while they 'situated' themselves.

"I, um..." Jack started before he was ready.

The silence felt wrong, but the silence after saying something was much, much worse. Whatever came into his mind first would have to be what he said.

"I like your job," he said, keenly scanning your expression for any hint of your thoughts.

You paused, clearly taken back for a moment, before you broke out into a chuckle, looking down to your hands as your face flushed.

"I like it quite a lot, too," you said with a grin, looking back up at him. "I've always been interested in becoming a librarian. Granted, I didn't quite imagine it in Kansas, but it is pretty here."

"Where did you imagine it?"

"Greece, actually," you chuckled, and he smiled as well, his heart thumping with a sudden haste. "I was heartbroken to hear the Library of Alexandria was burned down."

"The Library of Alexandria?" He repeated, tilting his head to the side again.

"Haven't heard of it?" You asked.

He shook his head gingerly. Was he supposed to?

No matter––you explained in full what the Library of Alexandria was, when it was created, when it was burnt, and the loss it caused amongst human society. He listened intently, frequently asking questions you were happy to answer. When Jack glanced out the library window, he found the impala gone, and realized Sam's plan had, in a way, worked.

"Are there.. any books about the library?" He asked once you completed your short story.

"Yes, but I don't want to hold you folks up –"

It was then you looked out the window as well, finding the two large men had abandoned the smaller.

"Oh where'd they go?" You said in a curious, high voice.

"Don't worry about that, I... have a bus," he said, earning a strange look. "I am... I ride buses."

A beat of silence passed.

"So the Library was in Greece?" He asked, and your earlier mood returned.

You brought him––with much excitement––to one of the rows in the library filled with simple textbooks for primary school kids. Other rows of your well-tended library were occupied by old books, their bindings worn and frayed at the edges from continuous use. Pages were turned yellow and were soft beneath his fingers, but despite their age they were rather hard for Jack to read and understand, meaning his discovery of children's comprehensible textbooks was a giddy one.

Jack wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be looking for when it came to you. What counted as suspicious? You continued to speak with him even after the sun set behind mountains, that could be a sign you were trying to gather information on him, as well. That could also mean you liked him. Was your friendliness suspect?

"- and the Phoenicians were really only called that by the Grecians. The name came from the purple dye that they're famous for, some root word for 'purple people' in Greek is Phoenicia," you explained, moving your hands expressively despite the fact that Jack's eyes were set dead on the textbook on the floor in front of you. Paragraphs of words surrounded modern depictions of ancient people and their art.

"So what was their actual name?" He asked as he looked up to you.

"Canaanites. From the land of Canaan."

"... you know a lot," he said, looking back to the page as you chuckled.

"It's just memory," you said with a shrug.

"Can I... can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do you know anything about mythical creatures?"

Surely this would reveal something, Jack thought––you might react poorly, in which case you could be the monster, or you might react in complete knowledge, which... could also mean you were the monster.

"A little," you said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"I have an interest, in myths and monsters," he said, almost smiling again.

"Oh man, I have a show you're going to love."

Far in the back of the library, a hollow, steel door led to a small break room, the carpet inside being a dark, scratchy grey against his palms when he sat down. There were no chairs in the room, but an old TV sat on a cheap cart plugged into the nearest, bare wall. On the opposite side of the TV was a dull blue counter that stretched from the door to a window covered by plastic shingle curtains.

You snatched the remote off the counter, pressing a large, red button that had the television buzzing to life loudly. The screen sparked, static radiating around it as a thin line of white brought life to a Netflix loading screen.

After several minutes of waiting for Netflix to load and then typing a title into the search bar, a show called Myths and Monsters was before him. He let out a laugh as he realized what had sparked the connection––he'd literally spoken the title.

Would an ancient being or monster know how to work a TV?

Castiel could work a TV.

Kind of.

The first episode began to play and you took a seat beside Jack, crossing your legs neatly beneath you. A few minutes in, rain pattered lightly on the roof, followed by sudden winds that battered the now pouring rain against the window. Jack watched through the side of his eye as you smiled at the change in weather.

That was suspicious.

Late in the evening, when night darkened the land and heavy thunderclouds darkened the sky, he left the library. He stood in the threshold between the warm light on your desk in the otherwise dark room, and the falling rain outside. Yellow-orange streetlamps illuminated the sheets of rain and the nearby bus stop, but you still stopped him, holding the door open as you both stood motionless in front of one another.

"I have a car, I can drive you home," you offered, gesturing over your shoulder to a door in the back that led to a private parking lot behind the library. "I'm not sure if the bus runs this late."

Extended time with you would be good, and he imagined your face illuminated by dim dashboard car lights would be better than good––great. Beautiful. You had wonderfully warm features. But you couldn't know where he lived for a number of reasons; if you were the monster, that was giving away a hiding place, and if you weren't, you would wonder why he lived in such a strange place.

"Thank you, but it's alright," he said. "I like the rain."

A small smile stretched across your plush lips.

"So do I," you said, and the two of you bid good-bye, retreating into your respective dark.

He gave a thorough rundown of the events proceeding after Sam and Dean left, and the three of them––Sam, Dean, and Castiel––listened closely. Dean already filled Castiel in on the rest of the case, and the two brothers were eating at the long table in the bunker's library.

They stared at him in silence when he finished.

"Sounds like a regular kid," Sam finally said.

"Ah don't be so sure about that," Dean said, raising a single brow. "What did you say the monster probably was?"

"A – a fae, or something," he said.

"Fae's good at lying," Dean pointed out, earning a reluctant nod from Castiel.

"He's right. Fairies are remarkably good at acting," he said in his low, grating voice.

"So... what next?" Jack asked.

"We'll keep looking into the case more, and you can probably ask the librarian out on a date," Sam suggested, earning an agreeing remark from Dean. "You can keep them distracted while we search their house."

"Do we know where they live yet?" asked Dean.

"No, but it shouldn't be too hard to find out," Sam said.

Jack watched the brothers for a moment, his mind emptying of answers as to what a 'date' was.

"What's a date?"

"Oh Christ," Dean muttered, moving immediately to his feet and leaving the room.

Sam let out an exasperated sigh at his brother, turning to Jack to explain what a date was, what were appropriate date activities, and how he should act when asking you out and when being out with you.

"Okay," Jack said with a nod despite not really understanding. "What are dates for?"

"They're between people who are interested in.. getting to know each other," Castiel said as he took a seat beside Sam across from Jack.

"So... like when Dean and I went driving."

"No. Not like that," Sam quickly said. "Not like that at all. If – if a guy is interested in a girl, like interested in having her be his girlfriend, then he might ask her out on a date. It's a romantic thing."

"The librarian does seem to be interested in you, from what I’ve heard," Castiel said with a pointed look in Jack's direction.

"I think you've got a shot," Sam agreed, nodding.

Jack thought for a moment before he said, "okay."

A few days later––Dean insisted he only try a few days later, saying anything less was damaging his honor––Jack returned to the library, lighting up when he found you were still working at the small front desk, your nose buried in a large box full of papers. Large, round glasses were hanging off the tip of your nose, and you pushed them up to your eyes when they slipped further off.

The door clicked softly shut behind him when he entered, scanning the room as if there was another reason he was there. You watched him the whole time, continuing to when he approached you, something obviously on his mind.

"I was wondering..." he trailed off, losing himself in your bright, expectant eyes. When he realized he'd fallen silent, he added the first thing that came to mind––a lie. "... if you could show me where the... books are."

You chuckled before you said, "which ones?"

"Maps," he said, smiling as he came up with something actually substantial.

Of course, it wasn't asking you out, but at least it was talking to you. He would have to do that later, though he supposed he'd have to do it that day or he would be disappointing the Winchesters and Castiel when he came back to the bunker without even trying to complete their orders.

"We don't really have a maps section, but I might be able to help you if you tell me the time and place you're looking for," you suggested for him, and he nodded slowly.

"Yes. Please."

"So what are you looking for?"

"Oh. Right, uh.. Greece and Mediterranean," he said, repeating subjects from the last time you'd spoken.

"Mediterranean sea?"

He nodded.

"What year?" You asked.

"Uh..." he drew another blank, "two... hundred."

You seemed reluctant to ask the next question, but it was necessary; "before christ or after?"

"... before."

"Alright," you said with a soft snicker, moving around your crowded desk area and towards the bookcases.

Your stride slowed as you approached a certain shelf, shifting up onto the tips of your toes to reach the highest books. Jack thought of offering his help, but he wasn't much taller than you––if at all––and he didn't know which books to get down.

Four thick books ended up in your arms, and you heaved them over to the nearest table, letting them thump down heavily. You spread them out, flipping rapidly through the pages till you found the proper maps you seemed to have memorized within each of the books.

"This one's about 900 BC to 200 AD, so it's got a bit wider of a range. Includes the bigger cities. This one is.. 1500 BC to 300 BC, so a little bit within range, has a lot more cities," you said, moving from one textbook to the next while Jack stared at you, enamored by your plush lips.

He barely even noticed that you finished your explanations, nor your quick words mentioning you should probably return to your studies and leave him to it. But he reached out on instinct, grabbing your wrist and tugging gently, convincing you to turn back to him. Your eyes, still bright, retained that same patient expectancy as his previous evening with you.

"I... could you talk to me?" He asked, oblivious to the implications read clearly by you.

"About what?" You asked in return as you stepped subtly closer.

"About fairies."

You paused, your eyes widening slightly.

"The ones from Celtic folklore or... like modern media fairies?" You asked slowly, slinking down into a seat you situated to face him.

He did the same, his feet planted firmly on the floor as he watched you, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Just... the oldest versions of fairies."

You nodded, again slowly as you pursed your lips.

"Well the oldest mentions of them in literature actually comes from ancient Greece, from the Iliad, by Homer," you began, immediately using your hands expressively as you spoke. "Those weren't Celtic fairies, though. Greeks considered creatures like satyrs and such to be fairies, as well, so... generally fairies and the fae as we think of them now came from Ireland and Scotland."

"Where are they?" He asked with a head tilt.

You stuttered for a second, your eyes flying across the room until you stood, returning to the shelves. He watched with much humor as you read the book titles at a frightening pace, fingers flipping over the bindings till you pulled one down.

"Here, world map," you said, and though he didn't notice, you didn't comment on the oddity of not knowing where Scotland and Ireland were. Almost everyone knew where those two countries were; or, at least, the general area.

"In Ireland fairies are seen as simply... mythical people. Great warriors and poets, or witches, they're all considered part of the fae in Celtic culture. In Scotland, though, fairies are more dangerous, essentially being creatures that feed off humans in one way or another," you continued. "Like... banshees, those are Scottish, and jack o' lanterns."

"Jack o' lanterns?"

He'd heard of banshees before; they were mentioned a few times by the Winchester brothers.

"Not like the Halloween pumpkins," you said, but when you were met with further confusion, you slowly said, "...and you don't know what those are either, do you?"

He shook his head reluctantly.

You spent the next two, whole hours talking to him, going over any question he had no matter how much you thought he should've known the answer to begin with. Jack relaxed into that feeling, into that ease, while suspicion grew in your own mind. There was no one of his age and stature that didn't know the questions he posed. Still, you found yourself unable to pin any such wariness of manipulation onto such a polite boy.

Engrossed fully in whatever you had to say and rarely speaking himself, Jack absorbed a number of facts about the fae. About their trickery and mischief, about their magic, how different species had different thoughts on humanity. Considering the lengths you knew about other subjects, none of what you told him occurred to him as suspicious. You seemed, again, to be a dedicated––but human––scholar.

When at last he exhausted his questions, both on and off topic, he began a build-up of courage. Asking someone out for a case should've been much easier than this, or at least that's what he thought. Dean mentioned he'd done similar things for other such cases.

Jack's face scrunched up in deep thought despite the silence between you.

"Are you alright, Jack?" You asked.

"Oh. I'm... fine," he said, nodding his head in a way that didn't convince you all that well. "I – I wanted to ask you something."

You nodded, gently helping him along.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but... you.. interest me, and.." he trailed off once more. It was difficult to tell a lie that was technically the truth. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me. On a date."

He expected a number of things from you––perhaps anger, perhaps embarrassment, perhaps shock, but you just chuckled, leaning back in your chair. His brow furrowed at your odd reaction. Were you laughing at him?

"Was that what you wanted to ask me when you first came in?" You said through your giggles, your soft skin glowing in the warm, early evening light.

"... yes," he said, huffing out his own chuckle as his eyes fell to the floor. "I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," you said with a grin. “You’re the one who had to listen to me ramble.”

"So.. will you..?"

"Yeah," you chuckled, nodding. "I enjoy your company as well."

A smile made a permanent home on Jack's face as he returned to the bunker, his official mission having been successfully completed, and his hands still burning with the touch you left as he walked out the door. While most of the town smelled like baking pies and cinnamon cider, the bunker carried no such warmth, and smelled more like rotting leaves than anything else, though Sam lit a couple apple candles in his room. The scent filled part of a long hallway.

He found his fathers all sitting on a single couch, facing a television that had some sort of film playing on it through the static. Jack silently stepped round the nearest chair, taking a seat beside them, and watching on intently. A soft, high note hummed from the speakers.

Red, ratted curtains pulled way for sunlight streaming through dust-filled air. The wooden windowsill had a vase in which a single, molted flower sat, most of its petals having fallen off long ago. But that wasn't where the camera stopped; it halted above the image of two women tangled in sheets similarly worn down as the curtains were, requiring many patches over large holes. One had their face pressed to the other's neck, her nose nudging a sharp jawline owned by still sleeping eyes. Their limbs were knotted tight together, chest to chest, and a quiet, sleepy melody humming out of the smaller's pale lips.

Jack frowned. He'd never seen two people so physically close together. The nearest thing he'd seen was Dean and Castiel hugging, and even that was reserved in a way. This was pure trust––pure peace, and he found himself wondering if it was entirely fictional, or if such happiness could really exist in the world that at times felt poisoned.

Maybe it did exist if you found a way to smile that brightly.

He earned a whole other course of schooling once he announced their plan was successful. Dean clapped him proudly on the back, shooting a dirty grin that Sam countered with clean praise. Even Castiel seemed to be proud. Jack beamed at that, his heartbeat now pounding at the thought of three days from now; when he had planned the date.

In the meantime, the brothers stayed up for most of the night, though they looked much worse for wear that morning than Jack after he stayed up with them. Researching faes was actually a little easier than a lot of other monsters––there were many articles about them, and a deeply-engrained fear of changeling children had led to thorough documentation on the fae realm and its inhabitants. Jack was still a little slow at typing, so Sam captained the computer research, while Jack sped through the books in the bunker's library. Dean looked through articles and stories in newspapers searching for any hint of where they children might be kept if they weren't immediately killed.

The more he read about fairies, about their habits, their composure, and their lies, the less he could picture you as one. Originally a fairy brought to mind someone beautiful and fair, or someone like you, with dazzling eyes that could stop an archangel in their step. But the sharp teeth and wicked, wirey hair didn't sound at all like you. He'd felt your hands––once brushing over his––and there were no claws or stinging sensations that lingered in your touch. Still, the Winchesters probably knew better than him, and he pushed the feeling aside.

In the next evening, after Dean took a long day nap, Sam and Dean set to packing up their tools and tricks once more, tossing them into the back of the impala with the rest of the permanent fixtures. Jack watched as they did this, his hair still neat and clean despite not sleeping or washing up for two days.

"Can I come with?" He asked in the politest voice he could manage.

They were headed off to the library under the cover of night. After hearing about several back rooms Jack noticed during his time there, a reasonable question was posed––was there more information you could be hiding?

"Uh –" Sam began, only to be cut off by Dean saying –

"No. If we get found, that's fine, but if you're with us, we lose your relationship with her."

Before Jack could reply Dean climbed into the drivers seat, followed by Sam clambering in beside him. He had issues getting into the car at times. The engine stuttered to life, and Sam waved good-bye through the windshield as they pulled and drove the car away.

Jack frowned, his brow knitted together again.

"Bye," he said, but he was the only one to hear it.

Castiel would be back soon. He decided waiting in the library would guarantee he'd see Castiel as soon as possible, something he desired, as there were a number of new questions he wanted to pose to the elder angel. Thousands of years his senior, Castiel must've had answers––some sort of insight to some strange impulses, or simply comfort against 'wrong' thoughts.

Technically your library was private, meaning others weren't allowed to take your books away from the building, but you allowed him to take something home under the assurance of a guarantee. He would return it next time he saw you, a promise that clearly meant a lot to you going by the ease that overtook you when he said 'okay' with a signature, sweet smile. The only reason you leant the book to him was because it contained information you considered thought-provoking, thoughts about how humanity evolves, and how technological advances could change the actual anatomy of the human mind. Some of the claims seemed to him to be a bit of a reach, but others brought him interesting points.

The metal latch on the door let out a resounding click as the door swung open, Castiel standing behind with wild hair and a stunned look about him. He flung the door shut before running down the stairs towards Jack.

"Have they gotten back from the library yet?" He asked as he approached.

"No, they left..." he glanced at the clock, "a couple hours ago."

"Hmm," Castiel grumbled. "That's a long time for them."

"Should we go help them?" Jack suggested, setting your book aside as he stood straighter in his chair.

"No, we'll give them some more time. See what happens," he said before he set off, jogging into the hall.

Jack sighed as he slumped back into his seat, almost mourning the death of an easy excuse to go see your library. And Castiel left before he could ask him anything. Dean had a point, though––if they were caught and he was with them, that would ruin your relationship entirely, and that was something he, for some reason, despised.

It took another hour and a half before Sam and Dean were waltzing back in from the garage, tossing their duffel bags aside and shucking off warm, autumn jackets to side chairs. Something must've given away their presence, as Castiel was quick to reenter the main room.

"How did it go?" He asked.

"Like shit," Dean said, not even bothering to stop as he passed Castiel.

"We didn't find anything," Sam clarified. "Whole place was clean."

"Well.. maybe it's at their house," Castiel said almost gingerly, turning to keep his ever-vigilant eyes on the elder Winchester. "All the tools and... stuff."

"Yeah, that's what we're hoping," Dean said as he disappeared into the hallway.

"When did you say your date was again?" Sam asked, turning to Jack, who blanked for a moment before he answered.

"Two days from now," he said.

"Alright, well... we'll see what happens," he said with a nod, setting his hands on his hips. "Hopefully find where they might be hiding the kids."

Dean reentered with a bottle in hand, taking a quick swig as he settled down into one of the cushier chairs.

Jack's heart sped when his fingers began to fidget together, squirming restlessly in front of him. Questions still lingered on the edge of his mind, and answers from anyone would do him well, though he was well aware Dean would probably be reluctant to offer any advice to him.

"Could I ask you some questions?" He asked in the general direction of Cas, who happened to be standing right beside Dean. Castiel opened his mouth to answer.

"Sure," Dean said before he could speak. Castiel promptly shut his mouth after that.

"I know this shouldn't get in the way of the case, and it won't," Jack said as he took a seat opposite Dean. He and his brother shot each other glances. "I just have strange... thoughts, when I am around the librarian. Impulses, kind of."

Dean, who had raised the bottle to his lips, paused at those words and set it down instead, a decision that shocked both Sam and Castiel.

"What kind of impulses?" He asked in a flat voice.

"I want to... eat them," Jack said slowly, his brow furrowed deeply as he looked at the ground. When he looked back up, all three men were staring at him.

"You want to what??" Castiel asked.

"Like.. put my mouth on them...?" He tried.

"Wait – you mean kissing?" Sam asked as he shifted his weight between his feet.

"N... no, I don't think it's that," Jack said, though he was growing even less sure of himself with how they continued to gawk at him.

"You want to make out with the fairy?" Dean asked with a look that screamed 'unbelievable'.

"Maybe?" was the best answer Jack could offer.

Dean sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with his free hand.

"I don't want to.. encourage these thoughts," Castiel said, "but they might help on your date."

"So I should kiss them?"

"Maybe at the end of it," Sam suggested.

"And... how do I kiss?"

"Fuckin' –" Dean muttered under his breath as he stood, leaving the room with annoyance in his scowl.

The three of them––Jack, Sam, and Castiel––watched Dean round the corner and disappear.

"Ignore him," Sam said.

Sam, with some help from Castiel, patiently re-explained the happenings and ongoings of dates, from conversation topics to activities often done on dates. Sam assured Jack that he needn't do anything dramatic, over the top, or especially original, since Jack 'wasn't actually going on a date,' a phrase that made him a little sad for a reason he couldn't identify.

A bouquet of chocolate roses lay in his hands, the neon and florescent lights of the convenience store flickering and buzzing above him. Sam insisted a good way to start a date was with a gift––conventionally flowers, but the second Jack saw the chocolate roses he was entranced. He'd never seen candy in the shape of something real. Surely you would be delighted by the art, as well. Sam was less sure than he was, but allowed him to buy it with a chuckle, muttering something about how he wouldn't need to get chocolates anymore.

"Now remember," Sam began as he adjusted Jack's collar, "blood-soaked iron is what kills them, but since we don't have that right now, I think iron should hurt them."

"Forks, fire pokers, metal pipes... those usually have iron in them," said Dean.

"And if you get into a fight, just get out of there," Sam finished.

"No hanky-panky, either," Dean said.

"Dean," he hissed, slapping his brother's arm.

"What's hanky-panky?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow.

"Nevermind, just––be safe, have fun," Sam said with a smile, patting his shoulder.

The brothers dropped him off at your house before circling the block in search of a good vantage point. He took a shaky breath as he climbed your steps, soon rapping his knuckles on the plain, wooden door. It was a bit of a task trying to swallow, but he managed to push past his tight throat and put a smile on his face.

Footsteps sounded, growing closer until the door opened, revealing your wide eyes and the olive green silk you wore, draping elegantly from your chest down to your feet. A heavyweight scarf rested upon your shoulders. The warm light of the hallway behind you illuminated the loose strands of your always messy hair, but the sight still had his lips parting as he gasped softly. He felt suddenly out of place in his simple button-down, pants, and everyday jacket, shifting his weight almost uncomfortably as he found himself at a loss for words.

"You look... really nice," he said rather awkwardly, gesturing vaguely to your outfit with a dopey smile.

"Thanks," you said, chuckling. "You look nice too."

He stared for another moment before he suddenly remembered the chocolate and foil roses in his hands.

"I got these for you," he said as he handed them to you, scanning every inch of your reaction. "Sam told me to get flowers, but I think this is better, ‘cause then you get to eat them."

"You actually can eat roses! They just don't taste very good," you giggled, fixing your hair as you took them, a blushing smile still on your face. "I do like chocolate more, though."

"Oh, good," he said, his shoulders finally falling from their tense position. "I hope you don't mind walking. I don't know how to drive."

"I like walking, actually," you said as you walked past him, trotting down the front steps of your house. He followed along, his soft brown hair flopping like a puppy's ears over innocent eyes. "I like taking walks at night, but I don't take them a lot. It's kind of dangerous."

"Why?"

"A lot of people aren't very nice, or they're down on their luck and make poor decisions. I don't want to get hurt or mugged just because I like wandering around."

"Why would someone hurt you? You're such a nice person," he said with a frown.

"That doesn't mean anything," you laughed softly.

Food wasn't a particular attraction of Kansas, but few things were. The amount of restaurants in town was high, most of them serving a very similar menu containing lots of meat, barbecue, pie, and sometimes funnel cake. None were all that classy, so Jack took you to a place that Sam recommended––a nearly 24 hours open cafe whose kitchen was always open, and who hosted quiet, live jazz on select evenings.

You and Jack spoke of a number of things while you walked, none more interesting than any of your previous conversation topics, as you seemed to want to stay on the topic of him as a person rather than the history you usually rambled about. You asked who Sam was, which he explained as one of his fathers, at which point you asked who the second was. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should tell the truth or formulate a more normal-person lie.

"I... my mother died in childbirth," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet, murmuring with the sureness of his trust in you. "My father, Castiel, takes care of me, with his brothers, Sam and Dean."

"Oh. I'm sorry," you murmured, and he opened his mouth to give the usual speech––it's alright, I've gotten used to it––but you continued with, "it's an honorable way to die."

He paused to absorb your words. No one had ever said that before.

"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess you're right."

"So what's your father like?"

He sucked in a breath, forced to once again decide between a truth, a half-truth, and a lie. Like with most things, he took the middle road.

"My genetic father isn't... I don't talk to him," he said.

"Oh."

"But Castiel is good. He always tries to do what's right. I'm still trying to learn about this whole.. being-alive thing, from him."

"I think we all are," you chuckled.

You ended up ordering for him when you finally got to the cafe, standing in line for only a few minutes before you were looking for a table. He had trouble understanding the menu, often asking you what things were, and eventually you had to gently push him on to let the next people in line have a turn. If this bothered you, it didn't show.

Piano and saxophone played in time with one another, their rhythms and melodies dancing around the beat of the drummer. Scant, warm light shone from above, illuminating the haze of clouds drifting from smokers, most of whom stood in the corner, nursing the embers as they watched the musicians play. Jack tapped his foot to the beat against the dark oak floor.

You joined him a moment later, two coffees in hand and your coat draped over your arm.

"Have you ever been here before?" You asked as you took a seat, casting your jacket over the back of the chair after you set the coffee down.

"No, I don't really get out much," he admitted.

"How come?"

"I don't.. really have friends," he admitted, again, though this time much more reluctantly. He'd heard that generally people respected you more if you had friends.

"That's alright," you said, leaning back with a soft smile made only more alluring by the dim, red and orange light. "I've found it's more fun to stay in than to go out sometimes. Everything becomes the same after a while. You can drink at home, you can dance at home, sing, host parties..." you sipped from your steaming cup, ".. so, obviously, I don't go out much either."

"You have friends, though?"

"Not really," you chuckled, glancing down. "Books last longer than conversation, generally."

"Then... why talk to me?" He asked, attempting to meet your eye with that knot still tucked into his brow.

"Because you came to me."

Soon your conversation was halted by a server bringing out your food. You made sure to thank him as he left, before hungry eyes settled eagerly upon your funnel cake. Unwrapping the napkin, you set the orange cloth on your lap, revealing your silverware. Jack followed your lead, copying your motions near exactly down to you rubbing your hands together excitedly.

He'd never tried funnel cake before, leaving him to melt as he took his first bite.

"Good, isn't it?" You chuckled through a full mouth.

He nodded ardently.

The crowd began to thin halfway through your meal, turning thick conversation to quiet murmurs confined to singular tables in corners and shadowed areas. Jack still had yet to find anything incriminating about you, an answer that led only to other questions, ones that flew wildly around his head.

You didn't seem human––at least, not entirely. There were things you said that hinted to something else, a knowledge within that was a little too wide for the lengths of a human mind. That and your soul; what he could see of your soul was strangely colored, florescent holographic, and warped far more than normal people's usually were––almost as warped as Sam and Dean's souls now were. Bright, yes, but warped. Something had happened to you.

But there was nothing bad within you. Darkness tinted the edges, the edges so often scraped by the world around you––the world around both of you––but the center within, where your heart emanated, was clear. It was actually rather beautiful; you were rather beautiful.

He wished he could tell you without seeming strange.

"What do you think about most, Jack?" You asked, pulling him away from his thoughts.

He instantly stuttered, as what he'd been thinking about was you, but he couldn't say that.

"Just.. uh, my, uh.. my place in the world," he said, tapping the end of his fork on the old wood table.

"Like your job, or your purpose as a human?" You asked as you sipped from your third refill of coffee.

"My purpose, sort of," he said, his eyes flickering to the ground. "I have a lot of responsibility. My father thinks I'm very powerful."

Was that giving too much away?

"What does he want you to do?"

"He wants me... to stay alive," he said, earning a soft chuckle from you that had a smile spreading across his own face. "I think he wants me to be safe and happy."

"That's a wonderful goal," you said with a grin. "And there are so many ways to achieve that."

So far he'd only found ways to achieve the opposite––how to antagonize the world by existing, how his grandfather wanted him dead, how his genetic father would use him for any power grab he posed. If you wanted to feel at risk of dying at any moment, he knew a thousand ways to do it.

"I haven't really found any," he said quietly.

You paused before you asked, "do you want my advice?"

He nodded, hesitantly at first, but sure of himself when you smiled softly.

"Always be kind to others. Mind your own business unless someone is getting hurt, and if you have to get your hands dirty, do it for only a second. Then get the hell out of there and wash yourself clean for the next hundred couple years," you said.

There it was again. A hint of something more. In passing conversations Jack heard from strangers, no one spoke like they lived history. Not like you did. And he'd wager no historian spoke with the sense of memory that you did.

"Anything specific make you realize that?" He asked, unable to stop himself from chuckling.

You looked his age––sometime in your 20's––but you spoke like an 80 year old. Something about that facade appeared humorous to him. He also looked your age––sometime in his 20′s––but he spoke like a 10 year old far more than he liked to admit.

"Family drama," you said dismissively. "I've been steering clear for a while now."

Did fairies have families?

Well, if you were a fairy, you could just be lying then.

Jack frowned. If Dean or Castiel were here, they would know what to say and think.

"I understand," was what he said instead.

The impala was still parked near the house by the time Jack was walking you home, a sight that nearly sent him panicking. Sam and Dean wouldn't want him to do that. So he clenched his fists in his pockets, his shoulders tightening ever so slightly as he tried to slow his pace in a way you wouldn't notice.

But you did. Of course you did.

"You alright, Jack?" You asked, matching his pace.

"Yeah, I just..." what was something normal to say? Something he could back up – "I meant to ask you something, but I didn't ever... find the time to."

"What was it you wanted to ask?"

He shivered as a brisk wind picked up, the dry, orange leaves on the edges of the sidewalk passing quick by his feet in the breeze.

"Do you think everyone feels this lost in life?" He asked, barely audible above the wind.

"There's a little bit of you in everybody, just like how there's a little bit of everybody in you. You're capable of the same things that a murderer is just as you are a... a hero, or a martyr," you said, taking time to think before you spoke. "Humans are remarkably similar, you come to see after a while. And even Gods face these questions, these wonderings of their origins and their purpose, if their creations are everything they're meant for or – or if they're doing something wrong, and they should be doing something else instead."

He continued to stare at the ground as you walked slowly side by side, brought out of his intense expression by something soft flopping over the back of his neck. His heart thrummed as you stopped him there, turning him to face you, and looking him in the eye as you fixed your scarf on his shoulders. The effect was instantaneous––his shoulders relaxed and the stress fell from his brow, absorbed in the warmth of your gesture.

"Whatever you're going through," you gave him a pointed look, telling him silently to not deny this truth, "is worse and better than what other people go through. It may not be the best but it's probably not the worst."

Your advice, though insightful, didn't mean much considering his problems had to do with the continued life or prompt execution of the entire universe by a bitter, old man. But the main point remained; there were more painful deaths than his, just as there were better ways to die than he would or will. He may not be facing the best circumstances, but they could be much worse, and the fact that normal humans often asked the same questions he did was more of a comfort than he thought it would be. Perhaps he really was connected to his mother in that way.

The steps creaked beneath your shared weight as you both approached the front door of your house. You opened the door, stepping partway through the threshold before you turned to him, hesitation lacing your open mouth.

Behind you, Jack managed to spot two shadowed figures running across the hallway towards what he presumed to be a back door. His eyes widened imperceptibly and he pursed his lips, quick averting his gaze back to you.

"You're special, Jack," you said quietly, scanning him with a careful look. "Don't let bad circumstances own you. You only get so much time in this world."

"You're very kind," was all he could managed to respond with. "Thanks for... going out with me tonight."

"Of course. I like talking to you."

"I'm glad you do," he said with a sheepish chuckle, one you mimicked as you fixed your hair.

"I'll see you again soon?"

"Yes, I – oh," he interrupted himself, remembering your scarf still enveloping him, "this belongs to you."

"Don't worry about it," you said, taking his arms and settling them back down to his sides. "It's kind of cold out tonight, and I'm assuming you're walking home... aren't you?"

"... yeah," he lied, blood rushing to his face at the thought of taking a piece of you home.

"Then I'll get it back another time," you said, smiling.

You hesitated to close the door again, and instead you gingerly moved forward, raising yourself to press a single, soft kiss to his cheek, the edge of it just barely touching his lips. His mouth parted in surprise, but before he could say anything you shut the door.

He walked back to the impala completely starstruck.

"I don't think they're dangerous," Jack said, restating what he'd said earlier to Sam and Dean on the drive home––he just couldn't see you as suspicious. Strange, yes, but not murderous.

"If what you say is true, though, then this is quite likely a fae," said Castiel as his eyes flickered from Jack to Sam and Dean.

"See? Facts are facts, kid," Dean said, pointing to Castiel with a smile.

"Hexbags, crystals, actual photos with them from, like, 1890? And the amount of plants," Sam continued with a slight shudder.

"How many plants were there?" Castiel asked, frowning sternly.

"Too damn many," Dean answered for him. "The point is, we gotta interrogate that thing."

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Jack said, his voice tripling without his knowledge.

Everyone in the room reacted accordingly––stiff postures and sharp breaths as the golden light faded in his eyes.

"Jack..." Castiel began hesitantly, his voice quiet and low.

He barely uttered out an 'I'm sorry,' before he turned and left, disappearing down the hallway and into his room.

It took him nearly a whole day to leave his room, having spent most of the time alone to brood and ponder over his actions, and whether or not he was being manipulated by a fairy creature. He couldn't deny the fact that there was a chance he was wrong and he was under your control, thus landing him with the only sane decision, somehow; trust Sam and Dean.

Silence surrounded him as he padded through the bunker, headed towards the kitchens after not eating for nearly 24 hours. Technically he could live without food for much, much longer than that, even without sleep, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant experience.

When he reached the kitchen he also found it empty. In fact, the whole bunker sounded empty, leaving all the cereal for him. He smiled.

Sam and Dean returned before Castiel did, though after their return they hid away doing 'private business' in the basement area. Jack tried to ask what it was they were doing, but Dean curtly brushed him off, sending him back upstairs to go clean up the mess they left in the kitchen after a quick, midnight dinner.

As he was scrubbing the dishes, a door lock clattered in the distance, marking Castiel's return. Now that the fort was manned again, he could sneak off to see you in the morning. Castiel informed him that showing up at people's houses at midnight could be seen in a very bad way. He knew you wouldn't judge him, but he still didn't want to embarrass himself, and it was only a few more hours to wait till dawn.

He could fly. He could also ask Sam or Dean to drive him (while he could also ask to drive Baby, he knew the answer would be an ardent no), but the grey clouds promised rain, and the smell of rain hitting the leaf-covered earth pleasured his mind. With your scarf wrapped around him, he could avoid the cold as well.

His feet were a little tired by the time your library came into view, though still warm in the crisp air from fuzzy, woolen socks. The frayed edges of your scarf fluttered about chaotically in the wind as he noticed something rather odd––the library wasn't open. None of the lights were turned on, the chairs were still atop the tables, and you were nowhere to be seen. He had left the bunker a little early, but you always opened by 5AM at the latest, and it was 8 now.

For several minutes he hadn't a clue as to what to do, meaning he stood motionless in silence in front of the glass door, his head tilting slowly to the side in confusion. Maybe you woke up late––that would explain it. You were perfectly safe in your bed, dozing after a good night's sleep, completely unharmed.

But things rarely worked out so easily for Jack. Your home was empty, no sign of your disappearance left as your shoes, jacket, keys, and wallet were still left by the front door. In a sudden panic at the thought of your absence, the world around him flickered for a split second before he appeared in the bunker's war room. Knowing the usual fate of the people he cared about, you were probably being hurt, perhaps kidnapped by the actual fae who'd been killing the children, or lost of your own volition in a forest you wandered too far into.

"Castiel." Jack grabbed the angel's coat sleeve, stopping him on the way to the stairs. "I went looking for the librarian and they're missing."

"Missing?" Castiel repeated with a grimace. "Did you check the library and the house?"

"Yes, I couldn't find them."

"They might be headed for the children," he said, sending a pang through Jack's heart that he ignored.

"Is... is there a way to track a fae?"

"There's no spell I know of," Castiel said, his gaze falling to the floor as he scanned his mind. "But if it's a magical creature, it may carry a sort of... a sort of scent."

"A scent?" Jack furrowed his brow, wondering if something could carry your scent.

Something you'd been around a while. Something like your books, or your bed, or –

Jack jumped after he realized he was still wearing your scarf which, despite its' time with Jack in his room, still smelled of you. He shoved it into Castiel's arms, but he only gave him a confused look.

"It's their scarf," he explained.

Castiel spared him from the embarrassment of explaining how he'd gotten it.

He held the crumpled scarf in his hand up to his nose, intaking a deep breath with closed eyes. Jack hadn't ever heard of this kind of tracking, which was odd since he inherently knew most things about angels, but he would never distrust his father. What he did distrust was the churning feeling in his chest, as though a curved knife had impaled itself in him and twisted slowly through his skin.

Doubts pervaded both angels almost immediately as Castiel followed the trail. It led near to the stairs, but took a harsh turn and went into the hallway, leading them further into the bunker.

"Are you sure this is theirs?" Castiel asked as they hurried down the hall.

"Positive," he said, earning a sigh and a nod from Castiel.

They continued, this time less sure of themselves, as the scarf continued to lead them through the bunker, trotting down stairs till they landed in the base floor. Here the walls, ceiling, and floor were made of thick cement, allowing their footsteps to echo around the empty halls.

Jack picked up the pace and Castiel followed, running after the trail that ended right in front of the dungeon door. The torture room door, where monsters were locked up, and sometimes friends as well. A sort of fury was boiling in his blood despite his earlier acceptance of the Winchester's plan. Keeping you here in secret was never something he agreed to.

Without even fully realizing it, Jack was wrenching open the handle, the door whizzing open and slamming against the wall with a resounding crack. There, in the center of a pentagram, you were bound to a chair with thick, iron chains, your molted form flanked by Sam and Dean. The latter carried a knife in his hand, one covered in dripping blood. Sam whirled around at the sound of the door opening, meaning he was the first to see Jack's glowing eyes, and the suddenly panicked expression on Castiel's face.

"What are you doing to them?" Castiel growled with wide eyes, taking long, quick steps over in front of you. Without hesitation he undid the restraints, letting you fall down to the floor.

"Cas, they're a fae," Dean said, his tone stern and curt.

"No, they're not," Castiel replied, his own voice equally as sure. "I can't.. blame you, for not knowing this. You're only human. But it's obvious to me."

Sam opened his crossed arms, waiting for the angel to explain himself. Meanwhile, Jack regained his composure after being shocked by Castiel's actions, and made his way over to you, kneeling at your side. You'd been cut in a few different places––nothing too grievous, at least not by Winchester standards––and drops of your blood painted streaks down your sweaty skin.

"They're an Old God," Castiel finally said, but the words were followed by silence.

"We're just supposed to know what that is?" Dean asked gruffly.

"I thought your brother might," he said in a quiet voice.

Dean unfolded his arms, shifting his weight as he cast a glance to his brother.

"Old Gods are... ancient deities created by wandering bands of hunter-gatherers in your past. They got their power from their worshippers, not from Chuck, which... made them very different, to say the least," Castiel continued, still keeping his voice soft as he raised his hand above several of your wounds, stitching the skin back together with his grace.

"I've heard of hunter and gatherers," Jack said as he recalled some of the books in your library. "They wandered in bands of around 50 to 100 people."

He earned several unimpressed stares.

"Well – if they got their power from worshippers, how's this one still alive?" Sam asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," Castiel admitted. "I've never met this one before."

"Okay, just because they're not a fae doesn't mean they aren't the one that killed those kids," Dean said, interrupting their short conversation.

The iron knife still twirled in his hands; the only weapon against fairies. Jack kept a close eye on it as they spoke.

"An Old God would never hurt a human," Castiel said with such an intensity that no one had any choice but to believe him. “And besides,” he turned back to you, “they would’ve lost their powers long ago when humans stopped believing in them.”

Your eyes listed open while you lay in Jack's hold, the swirling image of your friend coming lazily into view.

"... Jack?" You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyelids up.

His gaze shot down to you, eyes widening at the sight of your movement.

"Hey," he said softly, hushing you when you tried to speak. "Are you okay?"

You mustered your strength to nod.

"I'm assuming you're an agricultural God," Castiel said after a moment of watching the two of you interact. "You look to be around 12,000 years old." He looked up to Dean and Sam. "That's how old agriculture is."

"Yeah, I know," Sam scoffed, but Dean remained silent.

"Do I really look that old?" You asked, laughing through your slurred words.

"Your soul does," Castiel answered.

You hummed weakly in response, drifting back into unconsciousness, your body going limp in Jack's arms.

Jack healed what remaining injuries you had, using it partway as an excuse to touch you. His palms set flat on the cuts, and with you far off in your dreams, you didn't feel the burn or the relief of his healing. He thought first to bring to his room to lay you on his bed, but Sam gently suggested that you should be put in one of their many spare bedrooms.

Castiel and the Winchesters attempted to take his mind off of you, but it wasn't long before he was back at your side, waiting for you to wake up again. He scanned your body constantly with his mind, searching for any hidden injuries he might've missed the first time around. The case remained unsolved, the children still missing and the culprit unknown. Your disqualifying left the Winchesters with no more suspects, but Jack couldn’t bring himself to worry about a creature that wouldn’t strike again for another ten years when you wouldn’t wake up to his voice calling your name.

It took hours until you stirred again, eyes fluttering into a half-open state as they fell to Jack. He had his head hung low, his elbows leant on his knees, and his hair drooping in front of his face.

"I was created in Turkey," you rasped out through a dry throat.

At the slightest sound his head shot up, eyes widening with a spark upon seeing your soft smile.

"It's a country, by the way," you mumbled, correctly assuming Jack didn't know the country, and only knew the bird. "At a place they call Gobekli Tepe, now. The people of the land would... would gather there, and share their cultured seeds, and the magic needed to make them grow."

"Magic?"

"Simple water and sunlight," you said with a weak chuckle. "It was magic to them. Everything was."

You fell silent before you said, "I miss them."

"Were they different? From people now?" Jack asked.

"Very," you nodded assuredly. "But there are some people, nowadays, that remind me of them."

He chuckled quietly. Warmth spread from your touch when you reached forward, just barely gracing his hand with yours. He took the initiative, entangling your fingers together, and watching intently as your thumb ran over the back of his hand.

"You are a new God, aren't you?" You asked, narrowing your eyes curiously, with no sense of hostility.

"I'm... I'm a nephilim. Lucifer's son, actually, but I promise I'm not like him," he said, gripping you tighter.

"A nephilim?" You asked with a frown.

"The son of an angel," he clarified.

It was the first time he was able to tell you something you didn't know instead of the other way around.

"I've never heard of angels."

His brows raised in surprise.

"Really?" He asked.

"I haven't really kept up with the world as of recent. When did angels first appear?"

"I... don't know," he said after wracking his brain and finding no answer. "Castiel might know."

"Castiel.. Castiel, that was your father, right?"

"Yeah. The good one," he said, earning a chuckle from you that brought a blush to his face.

"He is another God?"

"Another angel, yes," he nodded. "(Y/N), I... I have so many questions for you."

"About what?" You asked skeptically, giving him a playful glare.

"About humans, mostly," he said. "I mean, I've already been asking you questions, but now I know you have a lot more answers than I thought."

"Yes, well, I do keep my memory stored in a mushroom," you muttered beneath your breath.

Jack frowned. Was that normal?

"Can you tell me about them?" He asked, just barely masking his eagerness.

"My people?"

He nodded, and you smiled softly, your eyes glazing over as you recalled thousands of years past.

#jack kline x reader #supernatural #spn #jack kline

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tenthgrove · 3 years

Note

La squdra with black s/o and somebody was being racist towards them? Only if you are comfortable with that. If your not, could you just do one with la squdra with black reader who has natural hair.

How La Squadra Responds when Someone is Racist to you

La Squadra x Reader (GN), Platonic/Romantic (interpretable), SFW, TW: Racism

(A/N: Since we’re talking about racism here I think it’s best I state for the record that I am white. While I don’t go into detail about the specifics of the racism in these scenarios it might still be triggering to some so a warning applies.)

Formaggio- I headcanon that Formaggio has both African-American and South Asian ancestry, so unfortunately, he’s no stranger to the sort of abuse you’re facing now. He has a simple solution that always cheers him up when it happens to him, and he’s more than happy to give it a go with you. Simply put- you steal the aggressor’s wallet with Little Feet, high-tail it out of there by any means necessary, and spend the cash on whatever the hell you feel like. It’s a nice way for the bigot to pay you back for the hurt they caused, whether they want to or not. Fair, no?

Illuso- Similarly to Formaggio, Illuso’s first thought is to use his stand to get back at the aggressor. Instead of going after their money however, he has a different idea. With your approval of course, he’s going to go down the route of scaring them shitless. There’s nothing that could make them question your sanity more than wondering around a desolate world for a few minutes before inexplicably finding themselves back where you were before. Illuso then continues to spy on the person a bit longer to see if they do anything bigoted again in which case, guess what? It’s back in the mirror world they go! The goal is to form an association between their behaviour and being trapped in the mirror world, ensuring that they never repeat their shitty actions to anyone else again.

Prosciutto- He isn’t one to jump into action without planning, but at the same time, he knows that something like this can’t go unpunished. Consequently, his first port of call is to get you somewhere safe and ask what you’d like to do about this. You were the one being victimised, after all, so it’s only fair you get to decide what happens to them. He’s really okay with anything you say. You can leave and choose to ignore it or you can find the aggressor again and force them to apologise by any means necessary. If, theoretically speaking, it were entirely up to him however, he would most likely choose to covertly make clear to the bigot that the two of you happen to be part of an organisation more powerful than anything they will ever be involved in. Surely they’re willing to give such people the respect they deserve, yes?

Pesci- If there’s one thing that Pesci wants you to always know it’s that he thinks the world of you, and he hates the thought of anyone else potentially making you see yourself as less than he does. There aren’t many things that will anger Pesci enough for him to take a stand, but seeing someone be racist towards you is definitely one of them. He gets you behind him and tells the aggressor just how wrong they are in as many words that come to his mind. After that he whisks you away somewhere private to check on your emotions and offer you reassurance if the event has left you shaken.

Melone- Provided there’s no threat to your safety, he gets out his phone and starts filming. The threat of accountability for their actions is often enough to make someone shut up at once, but if it doesn’t, he absolutely will go through with his threats of making sure the video ends up in all the wrong places. It’s up to you exactly where it goes, but provided you’re okay with it, Melone’s happy to send it pretty much anywhere. How would they like their boss to know that this is how they behave? Their family? Their partner? He’ll back up these threats with educated guesses about the person’s life situation that often prove frighteningly accurate. He might not have the physical strength to endanger a life without his stand, but he can sure well ruin one.

Ghiaccio- Without hesitation he immediately snaps around at yells something to the effect of ‘EXCUSE ME WHAT THE FUCK?!’ He absolutely will not stand for this kind of behaviour, towards anyone but especially towards someone he cares about, and he isn’t afraid to get all up in the aggressor’s face about it. If the person isn’t prepared for a fight there’s a high chance Ghiaccio’s explosion will send them running or at very least backing down. If they are prepared for a fight, well, they aren’t going to win, that much is for sure.

Risotto- If anyone dares be racist to you in his presence, Risotto will simply crank up the intimidation factor until your aggressor comes to understand you’re far from the easy target they mistook you for. Most of the time all he has to do is look over, stand closer to you and put his hand on your shoulder while staring menacingly for the bigot to stammer their excuses and hurry off with their tail between their legs. Failing that (or if the person in any way made you feel physically threatened- in that case there are no second chances) he isn’t afraid to get violent. He doesn’t even have to cause a scene- all it takes is a tiny little hunk of iron careening around your aggressor’s insides while he stares them down, for them to make the most profound apology of their life.

Sorbet and Gelato- My version of Sorbet is Korean, so couple that with his and Gelato’s status as a very overt MLM couple, they are unfortunately very common targets for bigots who see them around town, especially when they’re just trying to enjoy a date. The years of putting up with this have only increased how rightfully angry they feel about this, and the first time they witness someone behave that way to you as well, they both see red. They’re going to make it very clear to the aggressor that if they ever speak to you like that again they might very well pay in blood. This isn’t an empty threat either- Sorbet and Gelato are never not armed.

#la squadra #formaggio #illuso #prosciutto #pesci #melone #ghiaccio #risotto nero #sorbet and gelato #formaggio x reader #illuso x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #risotto nero x reader #sorbet and gelato x reader

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chocolate-parfait · 4 years

Note

can I suggest a headcanon for arthur, theo and comte ( or dazai ) reacting to their selectively mute s/o speaking for the first time? ( maybe even singing? ) you can decide if you want a scenario for one of them and what mc sounds like, wether shes soft spoken or has a mature voice~ whatever you feel comfortable with >:0 👌 — have a nice day ! ♡

I made some research to write this but tell me if anything's inaccurate or wrong! I'll fix it right away

Selectively mute MC - ikevamp headcanons (Arthur, Theo & Comte)

Arthur

Arthur's a bit suspicious when he sees how uncomfortable you seem to be on your first night. No normal person would feel completely at ease, that's for sure, and yet the way your gaze flickers around the room, the way you fidget with your own hands, the look of pure anxiety on your pretty features, they're all blatant red flags for him, though he decides to let you be. It's your first night, after all, for all he knows you could just be terribly shy, right?

He started piecing the signs together after a couple days when your voice was yet to be heard. The only thing they knew was your name, which you wrote on a piece of paper after Vincent's many soft encouragements.

The English writer had tried flirting with you a couple times, but after being met with the same indicators of discomfort as night one, he decided to step back and watch from the sidelines, occasionally helping others translate whatever you were trying to tell them with your body language.

Selective mutism had been diagnosed around 1870 for the first time, and although it was still a relatively new medical condition, he still was a couple decades more experienced when it came to medicine. After realizing that was your case, he moved to inform everyone in the mansion so that they could adjust their behaviors and avoid causing you too much distress.

Eventually Arthur becomes the person you spend most time with in the whole house; you can feel he genuinely cares and, despite the voices you had heard about his incorrigible attitudes and questionable habits, you start appreciating all the efforts he puts into making sure you're always comfortable and understood (his efforts were very much succeeding, by the way).

On one particular night, you decided to bring some coffee to his room, a silent gesture of support in his regards, but once you entered the bedroom, he turned to look you in the eyes and you saw his beautiful blue orbs, usually alight with mischief, now dark and wavering, surrounded by puffy, red skin. He had been crying. Despite all his best efforts to hide it, everyone knew the writer had his own ghosts from the past haunting him, but seeing him so wretched and broken made your heart squeeze in sympathy and pity.

Seeing your worried expression Arthur immediately turned the other way, letting out a self deprecating laugh as he thought this was probably not helping with your case at all. "Ah- D-don't worry about me! I just got some dust in my eyes. Clumsy old me-!" You set down the tray on his desk and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"A-arthur, you can tell me. I'm here for you."

His heart almost flew out of his chest as his wide eyes stared at you in disbelief. He abruptly stood up and had to stop himself from hugging you and twirling you around, grabbing your shoulders instead. "MC, you just spoke right now, didn't you?!". He was so shocked he completely forgot about his troubles and spent minutes fawning over you. He didn't realize he was coming off as too strong until he noticed your voice getting quieter and quieter. He then apologized and took a moment to cool himself off.

From then on, your relationship goes through revolutionary changes as he finally gets to learn more about your past, tastes and personality. Each little detail makes him more and more interested in what had been a complete mystery to everyone for days. As the writer of Sherlock Holmes he certainly couldn't let this one chance fly out of the window now, could he?

If his brain malfunctioned when he heard your voice for the first time, it is pretty accurate to say that he almost passed away for the second time when he heard your laugh! It's the best and most effective antidepressant he's tried in a long time, and the more open you become, the more the look in your eyes starts to brighten up, a worthy rival to the breathtaking smile that graces your lips every now and then.

Your voice is sweet, calm and soft, and Arthur feels as if he's floating on a cloud whenever he hears it. It isn't loud, either, making everything you say seem like the most intimate secret one could whisper to a close friend. On the other hand, your laugh is like the clear and light tinkling of a bell. Each time you let out even the smallest of chuckles his cheeks flush with a rosy blush, earning him stares and teasing remarks from the closest fellow vampire in the room.

Slowly, he starts to see his reactions for what they are: sprouts of a new love. As time passes by, he realizes he wants to hear more and more of your voice. He wants to hear you whimper his name lost in overwhelming pleasure, he wants to hear all the sweet nothings and declarations of love you can offer him, comforting words, even gibberish and dark secrets. Everything that comes out of your mouth is like molten gold to him, and he wants it all to himself.

He starts bragging to others, though it does not take long before you're comfortable enough to grace them with the sound of what Arthur has come to love so much. On one side he's jealous because you've denied him the privilege of being the only one to hear your voice, but at the same time he's also extremely proud of you! You're finally happy and there's no more traces of anxiety and worry in your eyes whenever you're surrounded by the other vampires, and that's one of the most important milestones he's honored have witnessed by your side.

Theo

Let's just say that you and theo start off on the wrong foot. To say that you're frightened of him at first is an understatement, and you very much avoid him for as much as you can. He feels guilt strangling his throat whenever he sees your quivering form running away from him, and after noting that you behaved similarly with everyone and still hadn't uttered a word in days made him worry even more.

Arthur's the one who comes up with a diagnosis, and with that everyone changes their manners and speech to make you feel more at ease. Theo, just like his blue haired friend, is actually pretty good at reading body language so he has no particular struggles when it comes to your needs. Unfortunately, he's not so smooth in regulating his tone and words, which often come out a little to harsh. Vincent often reprimands him for it, and he can't help but feel even worse when he realizes he's probably ruining your whole stay.

He starts distancing himself, and you gradually start sticking by the local angel's side, never leaving him for even a second; his vibes are so pure and soothing that they help you out with your anxiety and symptoms. Needless to say, he's also very understanding and is not at all bothered to speak in your stead. This leads to Vincent being the first one to hear your voice, and he's without doubt elated, but he also wishes for you to be able to socialize with the others, too. Theo in particular.

After days and days of the artist's endless rants on how good his little brother actually is, your image of the gruff man has been replaced by that of a soft hearted puppy. Too bad that this soft puppy looks like a hungry hunt dog more than a small, soft cloud of love.

Ironically enough, what brings you and Theo to a new stage of your basically nonexistent relationship is King. In the dog's presence he lets his guards down and turns into a loving owner of a very good and friendly golden nugget, subsequently becoming more approachable. Besides, everyone knows how helpful animals are in fighting anxiety and social disorders! And on the advice of Arthur, he invites you to his daily walk with his dog, hoping your fear will melt away with time.

He's a stubborn man, and even when such delicate issues come his way, he has no intention of giving up. No matter how much time it'll take him, he believes he's going to convince you he's not that bad as you first thought. Why is he trying so hard though? Well, not only it's something that stems from Vincent's care for you, but it's also something for your own good. If you were to avoid him for a whole month, you'd get nothing out of it, and a constant lingering sense of panic would follow you pretty much anywhere; but living for a whole month in those conditions is a no-no for Theo. He has no intention of uselessly make you suffer like that, and as he reminds himself of that, his willpower strengthens his determination to search for a common ground between you two.

Albeit slowly, you start getting less tense around him, and the fright fades away bit by bit with each walk in the woods with the Dutch art dealer and the excited bundle of golden hair. It's a lengthy process that takes many days, but Theo finally knows his efforts aren't vain when he hears you coo at the golden retriever. "King... you're such a good boy.." You say with with the warmest smile he had ever seen painted on someone's face as you patted his canine friend's head lovingly. In that moment he wished he could frame the scene and hang it up in his room next to his brother's paintings.

He didn't know whether it was the emotion of hearing your voice for the first time or the implications that told him you weren't that scared of him anymore, but he became hyper aware that his wasn't a normal heartbeat. Unsteady and crazy like that of a lovestruck fool. Was this all it took him to fall head over heels for someone? Or was this a process that had started way before?

It still takes you some time to be fully able to speak complete sentences in his presence, but once you do, he's overcome with one of the greatest feelings of satisfaction he had ever felt in his two lives, and he can definitely agree that everything was worth the wait and the labour.

Just like Arthur, your laugh almost makes him fly through the roof, but what turns him into a formless puddle of mushy feelings and amazement is your singing voice. The first time he hears you intone a medley to him he turns to stone and just stays there, unmoving. He has an eye for finding hidden talents, but oh God was your singing unexpected. His feeling may be out of place here, but he's so, so glad to have your singing all to himself. He finds the act extremely intimate, and for how much he may believe he doesn't deserve it, he cannot deny the positive effects it has on him

Sometimes, when you're talking to him, you can see him turn his face away and smile to himself like an idiot. In those times, he's thinking about how far you two came, and how glad he is to have persisted as much as he did.

Comte

Comte emanates a slightly threatening and imposing aura but it can also be calm and placid, like his voice. First and foremost he's a gentleman, but he sometimes comes off as very intimidating to those who are not used being around such strong presences like his. Luckily, he's a very patient man, and you can feel no judgement nor malice coming from him. He's lived a long, long life, and he knows better than overstepping people's boundaries and making fun of their insecurities.

When with him, you can do things at your own pace! If you don't feel like talking then he's totally okay with it; take your time to find your own way and pace of doing things, he'll gladly help if you ever ask him (with gestures or, once you're closer, with words).

The panic you feel in his presence dissolves gradually; there are no particular events that cause a turning point in your relationship, it just happens. Despite living in such a big mansion, avoiding all life forms is pretty much impossible, so you happen to share some interactions every now and then. Sometimes it's an afternoon tea, others it's just him making small talk as you clean his room (he's either talking to himself or asks answers you can nod to if you feel more comfortable). He immediately makes it clear that he doesn't expect nor want to pressure you in delivering any answer, and if you ever happen to feel too overwhelmed he excuses himself and leaves the room.

One day as you were dusting the shelves in his office, he casually says:"The weather's really nice today." But your head doesn't move in assent, instead he receives a shocking reply despite the ordinariness of the topic. "It really is... T-there's not a cloud in the sky, either." A shocked expression momentarily appears on his features, soon replaced by a wide smile as he hums back in agreement.

He doesn't let it show but he's utterly in love with your voice. It's an addiction but he still wants to give you enough space and time to get comfortable with the idea of speaking around him, so he tries to keep himself in check all the time.

It's when he hears you singing that he can't help but feel greedy, and the rare sight of Comte's blushing cheeks greets you for the first time ever. It's his weak point, use it as you may deem ;)

(okay but jokes aside WHY would you ever want to use it against him, he'd build a pyramid with a butter knife while doing a backflip if you asked him to tbh,, the man is Whipped.)

Everything you do has a meaning and a significance, so he's always taking in even the smallest piece of information you may subconsciously slip his way. Seeing how you trust him enough to lower your guards about him makes him all the more appreciative of the bond you two share. For this reason, if you ever want to try and get over your anxiety, he'll be there to walk with you from the first to the last step of your journey.

His favorite thing is when he's holding you in his arms, nuzzled against his chest while he dozes off to your heavenly humming. It makes him feel like a prince living his happy ever after in a fairytale and he couldn't be more grateful.

#my writing #ikemen vampire #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp imagines #ikevamp comte #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #arthur conan doyle #theodorus van gogh #comte de saint germain #answered

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mfb-better-fury · 3 years

Text

Episode 4

Night

Atop a mountain shrouded in mist, a young man meditates within a temple. In his mind, he sees flashes of light, hears battle cries, and feels uncertainty. Of these lights, four shine brighter than the others, while one pulses with darkness instead. He muses to himself that four warriors have already awoken, but that the great evil has already obtained their own star fragment.

He turns his focus toward one of the unawakened lights. It is the dimmest of them all, telling him the warrior connected to it is not only unaware of their power but has no one to guide them to it.

Opening his eyes, he briefly glances across the room at a small box sitting on a shelf. Quietly he says to himself: “It seems you were right after all. If you had only waited a short while longer…”

His hand closes tighter around the cracked, jade-carved item in his lap. It pulses, then gains a steady glow. Closing his eyes, he thinks: “For the sake of this world...to prevent any more losses...I will do whatever I can.”

Day

In Madoka’s kitchen, Gingka and Ryo are watching her whirl about in a frenzy as she cooks. Gingka asks Benkei how long she’s been like this, and Benkei has to check the clock before saying it’s been a while. He’s pretty sure she’s overreacting about the person they’ll be meeting. Ryo questions who this person is, but when Benkei tries to answer he’s interrupted by Kenta’s arrival. He greets them, then realizes Madoka hasn’t registered him at all. The others can only shrug.

Ryo excuses himself as he gets a phone call, leaving the gang to themselves. They watch Madoka in awe for a moment before Gingka notes he’s never seen her like this before. It’s almost like she’s panicking. Benkei admits that might be it – he’s not entirely sure what’s going on, but he knows she seems very protective of ‘him’.

Ryo returns shortly to say that Hikaru’s uncle is bringing her, and asks Benkei if he knows if Kyoya might show up. Benkei as always is certain Kyoya will come through, though his usual cheery mood is somewhat lessened as he thinks back to the dark power spike.

By the time Hikaru arrives, Madoka has set the table and the others are already eating. Madoka greets her a bit breathlessly before telling her to help herself. After returning Ryo’s suit jacket, Hikaru sits down and does so. They note she seems to be a bit more put together than she was the day before, and she gives an uncertain, “I guess so.”

Kyoya arrives before too long and wants to get to business right away, but Madoka tells him they can’t until one more person arrives. Once again, Gingka questions this, and Madoka explains that there’s someone who’s been studying the star fragment for years. He watched the new one arrive and came to find them. Kenta imagines he must be someone old and important, but Benkei assures him that whatever he’s picturing, it’s not accurate.

Though Kyoya doesn’t touch the food, he does ask Benkei about Bull’s state. Benkei assures him that he and Bull will be battling again in no time, so there’s no need to worry. Kyoya’s slight smile of relief goes unseen by most of them, but Benkei just beams brighter.

Outside, Yuki is being walked to the B-Pit by Ryutaro, Tobio, and a very bored Tetsuya. He thanks them again for both their escort and for allowing him to stay the night with them. Ryutaro assures him it’s no problem, though is concerned that he didn’t eat enough for breakfast. Yuki explains with some amusement that Madoka tends to stress cook and he’s certain about 3 breakfasts are waiting for him.

Tetsuya complains about being dragged along, but when Tobio points out this could be seen as his way of repaying Madoka for fixing Gasher, he reluctantly goes quiet. Yuki watches their dialogue but is unsure how to take it, simply deciding they are very interesting people.

As they reach the B-Pit, Yuki fishes out a key for the employee entrance and unlocks the door. He thanks them a third time before he’s pretty much shooed inside, after which Tobio wonders if Yuki knows how to not be polite. Ryutaro however finds it a refreshing change, but doesn’t go into detail when Tobio asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

As Yuki makes his way through the back of the store and towards the stairs, he runs a list through his head of everything he needs to say, ending with the most important thing: Keep hold of himself and just stay calm. Everything will be alright. He keeps repeating this to himself as he turns the corner to enter the kitchen, but it dies off as he sees Madoka and her friends. They don’t notice him right away until Kenta turns his head. He’s perplexed but points him out to Madoka.

Madoka rushes out of her seat to greet him, startling not just him but everyone. When she hugs him, Yuki finds himself finally relaxing again, and unfortunately can’t stop his tears. In concern Madoka asks if he’s alright, or if something happened to him during his trip. He tries to protest, but reaching up to wipe his eyes lets Madoka see his injury again. Now seeing it up close, she can tell it isn’t simply from falling like he’d claimed, and asks him what happened. Yuki argues it’s not important and tries to brush his emotions off as simply being overwhelmed by seeing her again. Though suspicious, Madoka lets it go for now.

The others are introduced to Yuki, with both Kyoya and Ryo giving him odd looks. Finding out that he is Madoka’s cousin is a surprise to them all. Benkei encourages him to eat before they get started, remembering how tired he had looked on their call the day before. Madoka gives him a grateful smile.

As Madoka starts cleaning up, Gingka tells Yuki about her flurry in the kitchen earlier, and Yuki admits he’d been expecting nothing less. Madoka comments he’s just lucky her dad is out of town – otherwise, there would’ve been twice as much food. Yuki agrees, saying that Uncle Akigo stress-cooks even more than she does.

Once all the food is put away, Kyoya asks if they can get started already. Yuki is startled by him speaking so suddenly but is cut off by Madoka telling Kyoya not to be so rude. She then explains that the whole thing is complicated, so they need a moment to figure out where to start. Ryo suggests they begin with how they know whatever it is they know in the first place. After the cousins exchange a look, Madoka nods for Yuki to start.

Yuki’s answer is a direct quote of the legends of Koma Village, startling them – “Long long ago, a star fell from the sky. Through the ages, the tops born from that star fragment changed shape and evolved into the beyblades of today.” Ryo and Gingka question how he knows this, and Yuki explains that he grew up hearing these stories from his grandfather ever since he was young. Ryo realizes this means Yuki’s grandfather would have come from Koma Village. He then ponders over Yuki’s name and wonders: “He couldn’t possibly be…”

Yuki continues, saying that his grandfather would often take the both of them to a hill to see the vast sky full of stars. He remembers the night they had been told another legend from Koma Village – “When a dazzling glow lights up the earth from the heavens, a new star fragment will arrive and awaken a great power.” His grandfather said that their ancestors believed that a new star fragment would appear in the far future. He believed that time may be closer than they think, and promised them that they would see the new star fragment if it was their destiny.

The others question Madoka as to why she had never mentioned any of this. She first corrects their assumptions, saying that Grandpa was Yuki’s maternal grandfather, and she’s not related to him. She then admits that with everything that had happened before Kenta told them Gingka was from Koma Village, she had been so caught up in keeping their beys ready to go and collecting data on them that these childhood memories had slipped her mind.

Yuki goes on to say that he became intensely interested in when exactly the new star fragment would arrive. Using various astronomical observations and research of ancient ruins, he created a timeline of the universe that would calculate the time of its arrival. Madoka briefly cuts in to complain she’s still annoyed he didn’t want her help. After sheepishly apologizing, Yuki goes on to say that his most important reference came from the ancient Mayans. Ryo explains that they were an ancient civilization that created a group of calendars based on the movement of the stars. Yuki adds to this explaining one of those calendars predicted the arrival of the new star fragment. It wasn’t just the Mayans however – he found legends like those of Koma Village in his research from many ancient civilizations. Yuki is certain the meteor from the night before last is the new star fragment, and the light from his grandfather’s legend has appeared. “When a dazzling glow lights up the heavens...” He believes this to be the explosion of Spiral Force released into space by Gingka. This startles Gingka, who seemingly didn’t think on it all that hard before now.

The new star fragment has arrived, Yuki and Madoka know this for a fact. However, depending on who obtains its power, it could be used for either good or evil. This prompts Ryo to quote: “Where there is light present, darkness can creep in. So a new light may very well become a tunnel of darkness.” He explains this is a continuation of Koma Village’s legends. Their ancestors left these words to foretell the possibility that with the new star fragment would come an evil presence wanting to use it.

Yuki agrees that his grandfather feared that more than anything – that rather than being the beginning of a new era of beyblade, it would be the sign of a new age of chaos. He had warned them that the star fragment must not fall into the hands of evil, and they must be sure to prevent that.

Yuki believes his grandfather had sensed an evil presence that would go after the star fragment. He then corrects himself saying the star fragment itself must have as well. This is why it split into multiple points of light to scatter across the world. One of these lights hit him, and at that moment he heard the star fragment’s voice. Though the others express confusion and surprise, Yuki is certain that’s what it felt like – the star fragment pushed images into his head as if trying to communicate with him. One of these images was that of the cloaked figure, from which Yuki had immediately sensed evil. The next was of the sun being overtaken by a black star which he identified as Nemesis. The star fragment also gave him the information of “blade warriors”, or “legendary bladers”. Yuki warns the others that there is a great evil that will harness the unknown power of the star fragment, using it to revive the black sun, Nemesis. This would turn the world to darkness.

Now turning to Hikaru and Kyoya, Yuki begs them to lend him their strength. Hikaru isn’t sure what to say and Kyoya simply doesn’t respond. Benkei thinks Yuki must have been dreaming it all.

Madoka understands it is hard to believe, but the Mayans themselves predicted the day of humanity’s destruction, and it is coming soon. Yuki confirms this, believing it is tied to Nemesis’ revival. This is why the star fragment split itself, to entrust the earth to its chosen bladers. These legendary bladers were given the star fragment’s power, with there being thirteen in total. He’s also certain the enemy is looking for the legendary bladers as well to gain their power. This can’t be allowed to happen.

Ryo has now put the pieces together – the combination of the star fragment’s power in Leone along with Kyoya’s burning spirit is what caused the bey to transform. Kenta agrees, suggesting that the fragment in Aquario must have reacted to Hikaru reawakening hers. Hikaru expresses uncertainty at this, but as she remembers her mother’s words the day before, bites it back and stays quiet.

Kenta and Benkei express their hopes to become legendary bladers as well. Yuki is uncertain but admits that it is a possibility. This only furthers their excitement.

Madoka now questions Yuki about his injury, asking outright if he truly just fell. Now confronted, Yuki confesses to being attacked while trying to reach them the day before, and that he was rescued by Tobio and then aided by Ryutaro. He believes that the one who attacked him must work for the enemy, meaning the great evil has already begun working toward Nemesis’ revival. Benkei expresses his surprise about former Dark Nebula bladers coming to his aid, but Gingka just sees it as proof that their bladers’ spirits are shining bright. Yuki agrees, saying that they were quite nice to him, though also says that Tetsuya just seemed to be getting dragged along against his will.

Gingka assures Yuki that they’re all on board, with Kenta and Benkei agreeing. Kyoya doesn’t seem enthused but isn’t arguing. Hikaru gives no answer, too busy staring at Aquario in her hand. Ryo officially declares the WBBA will aid in the search of the other eleven legendary bladers. Yuki expresses his gratitude to them all.

As Ryo gathers the kids to head to the WBBA to start their search, Kyoya watches Yuki, who is being told by Madoka to stay and rest first before he joins them. When Madoka turns away, Yuki happens to glance over and catches Kyoya’s gaze. Realizing who he is, Yuki pales a little. Before he can stammer out a word, however, Kyoya turns away and leaves, raising his hand in farewell. Yuki observes this for a moment before catching his breath; when Madoka addresses him, he jumps and apologizes for spacing out, then asks for her to reiterate what she’d said.

Ryo pauses as he and the kids leave the shop, causing Gingka to ask if something’s wrong. He assures his son he’s fine and says that he just needs to step back inside and confirm something with Yuki. He’ll meet them at the office.

Ryo finds Yuki setting his things down in the spare bedroom and asks if he could bother him for a moment. He wants confirmation that Yuki said his last name was “Mizusawa”, and Yuki gives it. Now smiling, Ryo asks if his grandfather’s name would happen to be Isao, and a now startled Yuki questions if Ryo knows him. Ryo recounts how Isao was like a mentor to him when he was their age, always keeping him out of the worst trouble. He asks how Isao is doing but is confused when Yuki seems to deflate.

Yuki admits that his grandfather left on a journey just under two years ago, and he lost contact with him shortly after. He has no idea where he is now. This concerns Ryo, but he tries to reassure Yuki that Isao is a tough man to beat. Yuki says that would only be true if he had Anubius. He takes the bey out, saying that it was his grandfather’s parting gift to him. He then wishes he could be half the blader his grandfather is, but his only battle so far has been while he was running for his life.

Ryo puts a hand on Yuki’s shoulder, saying he’s confident that Yuki’s skill will grow in time. He just needs to remember to have faith in Anubius, as well as himself. Yuki seems doubtful of this advice, so Ryo tells him something else: “It’s easy to watch a battle and cheer for someone, but it can be hard to be the blader in the fight. Even so, you won’t know if you’re ready until you get out there and try.”

Yuki is quieted by this, now teary-eyed. Ryo softly tells him that these were words he heard from not just Yuki’s grandmother, his namesake, but his mother as well. Yuki may doubt himself now, but the strength is inside him just waiting to come out. When Yuki begins to cry again, Ryo stands with him and promises that from this point on, they will walk this path together, not only to find the legendary bladers but to find Isao as well.

Outside on a roof across the street from the B-Pit, Johannes is sitting along with some cats and wonders what he should do next.

#Better Fury #Better Fury episode #BF Legendary Bladers #Madoka Amano #Gingka Hagane #Ryo Hagane #Benkei Hanawa #Kenta Yumiya #Hikaru Hasama #Kyoya Tategami #Yuki Mizusawa #Ryutaro Fukami #Tobio Oike #Captain Capri #Tetsuya Watarigani #Johannes

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