Forum Thread

The silver light of the moon shined through the window. Behind the glass, a boy looked up at the sky. A small, black cat with a blue flame burning on the tip of its tail sat next to him. They watched the stars fade away, one by one. »They're loosing«, the boy said. His face and voice revealed no emotions. The black cat looked up to him and began to speak, her voice sounding like shattering glass. »We should get going then«.
The boy nodded and turned around, grabbing a dagger on the way and left the room. The cat followed him.

»I want you to stay here, Kirai. It's too dangerous for you out there«, the boy said, still neutral. The black cat hissed. »Just because I'm a cat, it doesn't mean I'm weaker than I was before, Itai!«, she hissed.
The boy shrugged. »Just stay here. I don't want them to take away what's left of you.«

With these words, he left.

[10 years later]

A black cat sat in front of a grave. A blue flame burned on the tip of its tail and tears began to form on its eyes as it stared at the grave stone.

"Itai Yume"

“So, this is the place, isn’t it bro?” A spirited young fighter, Lucifer Paromo, age ten. He jumped out of the truck, taking his first steps on campus. “The school where new beginnings begin… Seems like a peaceful place, doesn’t it Kyoto?”
“Well, if you ask me, I do find it nice, hopefully we can catch a break.” Kyoto Paromo, age 15, the strongest and smartest of the two. He chuckled, a determined smile on his face. “Well, maybe we get some good sparring partners, you’re just too predictable.” It was night time, quiet, the dorms were dark, “So, where is everyone? It’s only 9 on a Friday.” He looked around, a clear open space, quiet as it may be, it was a little foreign to him.
“Well, I can hear some chatter coming from inside that door over there. A party maybe?”
At once another person jumped down from a tree, and tackled Luke. “I knew we would meet again! What brings you guys to this neck of the woods?” A girl about Luke’s age had said cheerfully, laughing.
“Huh? It’s you again. That girl from the woods a few years ago. How did you…? Aye, you are an odd being.” Luke sighed, “Well, if you’re here, where are the other people who come here?”
“Well, last I knew, they were holding an assembly in the gym. Something about confirming the rumors spreading around. Oh! I remember now! From training camp! It’s me, Tanith, and you, the tall one on the left, are Kyoto. On the right, shorter, Luke. It’s been a long time!”
Luke gave a serious look, “I’m not short… I’m average for my age.”
Kyoto laughed, “He hates being called short. But it’s nice to meet you again Tanith.”
Tanith smiled, “The feeling is mutual, but hey, I got a question for you. How much have you improved that little gravity trick of yours?”
“Well, I see you remembered my trump card. Well, I can use it to a greater extent. I’m sure it has improved tenfold.” Kyoto smirked. “I’d show it to you, but it takes a lot outta me.”

Sydney Ross had never believed in any sort of higher power. She was a very open-minded person, but she was an atheist and a scientist. It just never felt right for her to pray or go to church, so she never did. It was in her nature, however, to be respectful towards other's beliefs, and she never had any problems. But she certainly never found proof of any sort of deity.
Yet, that seemingly normal night she was walking home from work, she came across something that changed her mind for the rest of her life.
It was cold, being the middle of winter. The smell of soon-to-come snow was in the air, but with none of the Christmas cheer that was present mere weeks before. Syd was hurrying home, her coat zipped up tight, trying to avoid getting frostbite in her leggings. She had not planned on staying late, and it had grown considerably more chilly as the sun had gone down. She was so preoccupied with getting out of the freezing air that she almost missed it entirely. Or rather, him.
The movement was what caught her eye. It was very slight, but she noticed it. Syd stopped for a moment, glancing to where she had seen said movement, and there he was. Back pressed against the dirty bricks of the alleyway, bloody, and terrified out of his mind. But he was there, and that was all the important thing.
"Please." He whispered when she looked at him. "Please, no more." But Syd barely heard the words. She was more focused on the mangled, bony appendages sprouting from his back.
Wings. They were wings.
And they could have been beautiful, too. A cream-colored, bone-like substance created the frame of the wing, and thin black membrane was stretch between them, similar to a bat's wings. But they were badly damaged. One was nearly cut completely off, a little less than half of the wing remaining. The other was obviously broken, the top of the frame was bent and laced with cracks, not to mention the membrane had a nice long gash down it, practically ripping it in half. There was so much blood Syd didn't know how he was still conscious. And that was only from his wings.
Syd quickly counted over twenty long and deep scratches all over the pale figure in front of her. Possibly more. There were so many bruises his arms were almost completely black and blue, and his entire body shook slightly, like he was cold. Which was probably true, since he was only wearing a black t-shirt and form-fitting jeans.
"I-it's ok. I'm Syd, I can help you." She replied, and he flinched. He was so skinny, he looked like he might break if she tried to touch him. With his short pale blonde hair, he practically already looked like a ghost. His pale blue eyes were the only things that gave any sense of life.
"Please... just leave me alone." He whispered again, his wings twitched and moved closer to him, as if trying to curl around him, but it was useless.
He was like a broken bird, and Syd wasn't sure he was ever going to fly again.

SPN x Oracle!Reader - Strange Beginnings - Chapter 2

((Whooo this took a while to write hehe... one more before the split, so hang on!~))

The next day dawned uneventfully, with the usual argument between Cas and Dean over sleeping, and lots of coffee.
"Hey, Sammy? We gonna check out that fortune teller's place today? I mean, I know it's a tourist trap but she could have some more info..."
"You just want to go back so you can flirt with ((Y/N)), Dean, admit it."
"Wha-- No!"
"You do Dean. It is exceedingly obvious, even to me." The angel said, ending the argument as Sam laughed. Dean grumbled. "Look, all I'm saying is that she's a fortune teller, right? She might be the real deal, she might not, so there's no harm in trying." The elder Winchester sighed, and Sam nodded. "Then let's go!"
"What?"
"You think she might be able to help, and I agree. So let's go!" Sam said again, standing up and grabbing a rucksack with his laptop, some food and his gun as Dean did the same.

A few minutes later, the three were stood outside "((Y/N))'s Fortune Emporium". As they entered, a small bell chimed as the door swung shut. The place was a lot cleaner then the night before. There was a small table draped in a purple cloth with a pot of tea and four cups surrounding it in the middle, and a few normal playing cards stacked beside them. The candles in the holders were once again lit, and an array of books lined one wall. ((Y/N)) stepped out of a little beaded curtain at the door, wearing the same ((S/F/C)) dress as the night they had met.

"Ah! Sam, Dean and Cas, right?" She smiled widely at the three and Sam nodded.
"We came to.. formally apologise for last night." Cas said, bowing his head in apology.
"Ah, forgive and forget. Believe me, I've had a lot worse people barge in before." The fortune teller beamed again, gesturing for them to sit down around the table.
"Actually, about last night... I asked Frank this morning and he said that Fluffy had been locked up all night, so she couldn't have gotten out." ((Y/N)) said sceptically, pouring tea into each cup. The boys drank, then Sam spoke. "Actually... ((Y/N)) we kinda need to tell you something."
Dean elbowed his brother, yet Sam continued. "Let me guess. Monsters, Vampires, the things that go bump in the night are real." ((Y/N)) sighed, crossing her arms. "Wait what?! You know?!"
"How?"
"Could you please explain why you know this?" Castiel asked, the voice of reason amidst the chaos. "I mean, come on. They're not exactly incognito. Plus the last guy who lived next door before Frank just disappeared. Not a trace left. I guessed something was up, so I went to check in the nearby woods and all that was left of him was... was a pile of skin." She shuddered, and sipped her tea again. "Like I said, skinwalkers!" Sam said triumphantly. "Sam, please. You're scaring her." Cas said, putting a hand on the younger Winchester's shoulder. "((Y/N)), are there any books here on the paranormal side of things?" The angel asked, standing up to look at the shelves heaving with books. "Yeah. Yeah, about half of them. Have a root around if you want." The ((h/c)) girl said, smiling weakly, and collected the empty tea cups. She studied the leaves. Hardship and love in all of them? That was rare. Shrugging inwardly, ((Y/N)) put away the tea set and sat down again, a pack of tarot cards in hand.

Sam and Cas combed the shelves, searching for anything on skinwalkers and who or what might help them. Dean however, stayed seated, and stared at the tarot cards that ((Y/N)) was shuffling. "What are those?" He asked, as the fortune teller placed a crystal on the stack of cards. "Hmm? Oh, these are tarot cards. They fortune tell, but I don't use them that often because of the fact that they're mainly a bunch of mumbo jumbo." ((Y/N)) said, placing them into an ornate box and locking it. "Crystal ball?"
"Yup. Also mumbo jumbo but works better then the cards."
"If everything is mumbo jumbo then why do you do it?" Dean asked, tapping his fingers on the table.
"Because it's the only thing I know how to do that can get me enough money to live." ((Y/N)) snapped, then sat down abruptly. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I just... I just have a lot on my mind."
"Hey, no one's perfect. Believe me." The elder Winchester smiled, and got up.

After a few minutes of searching, ((Y/N)) gasped in pain and clutched her head. An image formed behind her eyes, so she closed them and immediately opened them again. "Don't do this guys, please!" She yelled, running towards the three men.
"Huh? ((Y/N)), what's wrong with you?" Sam asked, holding her shoulders.
"I-- I saw something terrible. It's been happening a lot lately but never as vivid as this..." the ((h/c)) said running a hand through her hair, as if to check it was still there. "What do you mean?" Sam asked again, and sat her down on one of the chairs around the table. "Every so often I get these strange dreams, uh, visions almost. Like I'm telling the future but solely in my head. And they all come true on some way. That's what I'm scared about." She said worriedly, twisting the ornate silver ring on her ((Left/Right)) hand. "Would it be okay for you to recount what this vision was about?" Cas asked, placing a hand on her shoulder and rubbing it slightly. "Sure... ok, so there's this dark space. That's the one thing about my visions by the way, I never see places unless they're important. There's this dark space, and I'm tied to something but I can't see what... and there's a woman. I can't see her face but she's muttering something. Then two of you burst in, and start fighting... yourselves? And the other one rushes the lady and frees me then... then one of you..." ((Y/N)) recounted, her eyes shut, and began to sob. "One of you gets stabbed."

After the initial shock had leeched in, the boys decided. Whilst they were still in town, they'd protect ((Y/N)), figure out what was behind the Skinwalker attacks and also find out why their friend was getting these prophecies. They searched high and low, yet noting was immediately jumping out at them.

Sighing, Sam flopped down on his bed, splayed out across the covers. A small lead was found, that witches or warlocks might use skinwalkers for their spells or other means, but they couldn't figure out why the witch they had heard was talking to them, or who the girl she wanted. A knock was heard at the door. Sam opened it, and smiled as ((Y/N)), Dean and Cas came in with takeout. A few minutes later the four were sitting on the floor, digging in to a mix of Sushi and Indian, with Cas being egged on by Dean to try Wasabi and burning his mouth off, Dean being challenged by ((Y/N)) to dip everything in soy sauce with mixed results, Sam and ((Y/N)) talking about the strangest supernatural ((haha!)) things they had seen, ((Y/N)) screaming after finding out Castiel was an angel via seeing him disappear to get more food and Dean trying to burp AC/DC's Highway to Hell.

Once ((Y/N)) had left, she began the long walk back to her shop and apartment in the cool night. A light drizzle had started, dispelling the past days of heat, and she turned her face towards the sky to relish the falling rain. Continuing her walk, she heard someone walking behind her, yet thought nothing of it, walking on. Suddenly, a black shape darted out of a nearby alley and pinned her to the ground. As her head made contact with the slick pavement, her vision became black and fuzzy. As the darkness swallowed her whole, she had one thought. The vision...

"Mals..."
He knows that raspy voice so well. The voice that used to laugh a little at his jokes, get all flustered at his flirting. Before it's owner had attacked his own older brother, before that poor, broken kid was forced to bring him back to restore his wings.
"Monji." Mals replies, putting his usual touch of sweetness in his tone. "I was hoping to find a handsome guy to take me home."
A dry laugh, a glimpse of steel blue eyes shining out of the darkness for a moment, and then it's back to the words like nails on a chalkboard. The sound of it cuts into Mals' flesh deeper than any knife ever has before, reminding him that this is Lucifer's younger brother. The person that left those scars and that fear that he can see, every time the kid glances at a knife.
"Oh Mals, you've grown since we last met, now haven't you? You've figured out your life, you've made your mistakes. Big mistakes, but everything can be corrected, yes? And what is this I sense? Have you... my, you've gone and fallen in love. With my half brother, of all people. Michael." The last part is spit out like it's nasty and Monji doesn't want to think about it for longer than he has to. It makes Mals want to plunge his knife in this sick weirdo's chest, let the poison in his body take over again. He wants to allow the anger control so bad, but he knows he can't. He promised. Michael made him promise.
"You sad little angel, with your burned wings that will never be fixed. It really makes you see, doesn't it? How much Dad cares? I mean, first it was me, refusing to bring me back. Then Luci does it anyways, tries to steal his wings back, and what does he get? Instead of protecting his eldest, Dad turns him away. You see, our father has no interest in us. He just doesn't care. At all. Michael's extra soul, your mind-controlling anger, even Uuku's hearing loss. We served our purpose, and now Dad wants nothing to do with us. I wish you'd see that, Mals."
It takes him a moment, but he's finally able to respond with one of his normal quirky sentences. "You know, I was expecting some flirting. Maybe a compliment. It has been two hundred years, after all, darling."

Michael never really meant for it to happen, of course.
He was an angel, after all, and he took his responsibilities very seriously. His siblings only saw him as an loyal son, as empathetic as a boulder while he did what he was told. They saw him as someone who followed the rules, and never did anything wrong. His freetime, however, was a different story.
He could remember chasing Mals through the forest on more than one occasion, his wings tucked in to avoid whacking the trees. Or laying in green meadows, trying not to laugh at his friend's adorable flirting. The way Mals made him feel was different from anything he'd ever felt. He loved the younger angel more than his own siblings. He never said it, afraid Mals might think of him as a traitor to his family, but Michael couldn't help but think of him as a little brother sometimes. Especially when they'd lay in those quiet fields, and the light-haired angel would put his head on the bigger angel's chest or shoulder. It made him feel so happy, and he was sure it made his companion happy too.
And then everything went so horribly wrong, and he had to be the one to find Mals holding the knife, his fingers shaking, his tears mixing with the blood of Michael's brother.
It made it him... afraid. For the first time in his thousands of years of life, he was truly terrified. Not by some monster, or ancient evil. He was scared of his best friend. Michael would regret those three steps backwards for another thousand or more years, the look of betrayal that crossed Mals' face when he made that action. Because Mals could see the other emotion within the angel. He could see the disgust. And the kid just couldn't take it. Mals broke.
He had never thought his friend was even capable of murder, especially the murder of someone so close to Michael. Didn't Mals always say he would never hurt him? But it hurt, it hurt so bad. Michael had experienced a knife to the chest before, and that's what it felt like. A burning hot knife lodged in his ribs, slicing straight through his soul. Angels were never meant to bear grief that intense, and it nearly damaged Michael's essence. Nearly.
Mals, on the other hand, wasn't just damaged. He was broken. Michael had to watch his friend drop the blade, fall to his knees, and sob. The older angel wanted to cry too, because he knew what Dad would do. Mals was going to die, too.
So Michael ran.
And that was when he found Lucifer. The oldest of all the angels, laying in a bloody mess on the forest floor. On the same day Mals had struck down Olione, Monji had struck down Lucifer. Two murderous angels, one a mistake, the other merely lost.
Mals had fled while Haven was thrown into chaos by the attacking of the Eldest. But the damage was done, Olione's wings were torn off, just like Lucifer's, and that was something that could not be forgiven. The only reason Mals wasn't killed for his traitorous actions was because of Michael's pleading with their father. Yes, he was scared of his friend, but maybe he could fix it. Maybe Mals had a reason.
It turned out, hundreds of years later, Mals did have a reason. A fluke in his design, too much demionae blood running through him. It allowed another side of Mals to form, a side that was insane and perfectly capable of ripping out someone's throat. A side Michael came to know as Mel.
It was another hundred years before he located him on Earth, and found out why Mals had done it. Or rather, why Mals had turned into Mel. It was all because Michael lost one of his two pairs of wings to a demionae, in a gory fight that the older angel would never forget. He never mentioned it to Mals, he never needed to. His friend could see his wings, or the lack of them, and being the smart kid he was, Mals never mentioned it, knowing it would hurt Michael. But he'd been angry enough to allow the poison running in his veins control. Mel had cut off Olione's wings because the demionae-angel hybrid had deemed him less worthy of them than Michael.
The older of the two realized how much Mals regretted it, and how much pain it brought him to see his friend again. It hurt him, too, to see his companion so broken. He no longer knew any sort of happiness, the flirty, intelligent angel that used to be Mals was gone. Michael couldn't bear it anymore, and he had to leave.
But he took Olione's wings, too, as a show of thanks, and allowed his brother's formerly glorious appendages to bind to his soul. After all, it's not like he could use them anymore, Olione had lost the privilege. Not to mention he was dead. And, Michael thought it might make Mals feel better, to know it wasn't for nothing.
Unfortunately, the bad things were just beginning. Because Monji was still loose, Luci was missing, and Mel still lived inside of Mals snapped mind.