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sortasirius · 4 years ago

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“Inherit the Earth” and the Fakeout

Absolutely genius. Amazing, iconic, legendary, something only our showrunner Andrew Dabb can pull off.

"But Lilly, the episode was so bad! It was just the brothers, they didn’t look for Cas and Eileen!”

YES. THAT IS EXACTLY THE POINT. THIS WAS A FAKE ENDING, THE END OF THE SEASON, NOT OF THE SERIES.

Let’s get into it.

An empty world. No one left but Sam, Dean, and Jack.

So Dean ran, he somehow managed to pick himself up off the floor of the dungeon and meet up with Sam and Jack. That jacket was this silent reminder. Remember what I’ve been saying, Cas has occupied the negative space all season, this is no exception.

Dean can’t look either of them in the face, he’s doing that thing, where his eyes move everywhere BUT where he should look.

“I couldn’t save anybody.”

Sam couldn’t save the world and Dean couldn’t save the one person that means the world to him.

“Where’s Cas?”

“Dean?”

I think it’s there, in that pause where Dean tries to push down the emotions, continue the fight, not think about the memories he left in the bunker, that Jack realizes what must have happened. Jack is the only one that knows about the deal, he has to know what Cas not being there must mean.

“He saved me. Billie was coming after us. Cas summoned the Empty. It took her...and took him. Cas is gone.”

This may shock you, but I am GLAD they didn’t talk about Cas, especially with what happens at the end of the episode. Cas is allowed to just take up unsaid space. It’s obvious he’s missing with the way they blocked things, obvious he’s missing here. This whole “oh well they don’t care about Cas because they didn’t talk about him”? Malarkey.

“Jack I��m sorry.”

Guilt. Regret. Pain. Dean will carry this with him for the rest of his life. Not only that he lost Cas, but that Sam lost Cas, that Jack lost Cas.

That SHOT, with the distance between Jack and Sam where Cas is SUPPOSED TO BE, and then a zoom out to...THE WORLD.

Okay, as usual, Bucklemming has the subtlety of a sledgehammer lmao.

Jack crying??? Praying to Cas???? Bruh?????

Also it’s just straight-up frightening for everything around my boy to die he is my baby son.

Also not to point out the incredibly obvious, but Dean starts drinking immediately, and continues drinking throughout the whole episode. Grief arc 2.0 babey.

“We can what, Dean? There’s no one left to save! Everybody’s gone!”

“You can’t just give up.”

“What other choice do we have!”

Idk why, but for Sam, who’s the constant, the one who’s always had hope, through everything, through all these years, when he finally says this, when he finally loses his hope? It hits the hardest. Sam is the leader, so not only is he grieving the loss of Eileen, he is a general grieving the loss of his soldiers, his friends, the world that he feels the duty to save.

When they go to meet Chuck, I just can’t get that image of Dean, leaning against the car, handprint still on his jacket, staring at the ground out of my head. It takes him a few seconds to catch up to Sam, like he’s pulled out of thoughts like deep dark water. Remember friends, it doesn’t have to be loud to be powerful.

Chuck wearing BLACK? FEAR.

“That’s right, the whole Cain and Abel thing. Us dead, whatever. I’ll kill Sam, Sam’ll kill me, we’ll kill each other. Okay, you pick. But first? You gotta put everything back the way it was. The people, the birds...Cas. You gotta bring him back.”

Willing to kill his brother. Willing to die. Tears in his eyes, begging God to bring Cas back.

And Chuck? Chuck doesn’t care about their surrender, he knows he’s already got them beaten. He cares about their pain, he cares about them suffering, because to him? That’s the entertainment. He’s not entertained by their found family, by their happiness, by their joy. He wants them to suffer, all of them.

“Eternal shame. Suffering. And loneliness.”

And he leaves them with just that. No hope, no family, just the three of them, broken, alone. Jack locked in his bedroom, Sam trying desperately to make life “normal” again. And Dean. Dean who drank so much he passed out on the floor.

He doesn’t feel terrific, he feels like shit, because not only is he dealing with the shame of an empty planet, he’s dealing with the guilt of being back in the place where the Empty took Cas.

This whole thing with the dog was just absolutely heartwrenching shit and if I didn’t hate Chuck before, him snapping Miracle right in front of an already fragile Dean would seal that deal.

I just want everyone to know that this is a Jake Abel stan account.

“Daddy’s boy” is a big insult for my boy Dean to use considering his own past with his trash abusive father but I’ll allow it.

I do think it’s interesting, ending of his arc aside, that Michael is willing to help them now. What changed? Sure, he ended up trying to help Chuck, running back to his father, but why get back in the game? I wonder if it has anything to do with the loss of Adam. It’s an interesting parallel, a man loses his angel while an angel loses his human.

Everything is so DARK in the Bunker now too, even the lighting is loud.

When I tell you I lost my shit when I saw Cas was calling Dean, when I heard Misha’s voice?? I knew it didn’t make any sense but I didn’t care, I would’ve been one step behind Dean as he sprinted towards the door.

Fuck you, Eugenie.

I mean it’s torture not only to Dean, who looks beyond fucking crushed when it’s damn Lucifer at the door, but for us too. Who the FUCK wanted Lucifer back? And to tease Cas??? Garbage.

I mean...fam. Listen, we know who’s writing this episode, this whole Betty thing is just like blatantly unnecessary but again, Eugenie loves Lucifer, gotta distract her with a shiny toy lmao.

It was cool to see Michael and Lucifer onscreen together. It was a cool dynamic that we rarely got to see.

The whole episode is just twist after twist. Listen, it’s their last episode so I guess they needed to fit in a season worth of twists in one episode.

Bye Lucifer. We know Eugenie can’t bring him back. Blessings to all.

This scene with Adam is the FOURTH scene where Dean is drinking...big yikes to my guy’s liver.

Here’s the thing about Michael. He’s a mirror for Dean in season 5. Loyal to an absent father. He has never changed, but Dean has. Dean is able to acknowledge now, the trauma that his father put him through, he was able to move past the need for pleasing him at any cost. Michael and Chuck? Are John and Dean, if Dean had never been allowed to grow. And Chuck proves, like John did, that he would always put his wants (in John’s case “the mission”) over his children.

Also not to beat a dead horse but Michael’s death was also peak Eugenie.

Sam getting to punch Chuck in the face? Thank you, he deserves that.

Obviously I don’t love any scene of my boys getting brutally beaten. But what I love, what I will always love about them, is what Chuck hates about them: they won’t ever give up. They know they won’t win against him, they don’t even land any hits, but that’s not what matters. What matters is their controller doesn’t control them anymore, that they really are free. No matter how hard they get hit, the get back up. It is their choice to stand up to him, no matter the cost.

The moment where Sam and Dean are supporting each other, covered in blood, and they look God in the face, and they laugh. That is why I will love them unconditionally for the rest of my life. That is who they are, they will never cow to the villain, whether that’s Azazel or Alastair or Zachariah or Lucifer or Amara or Death or Metatron or Cain or God. They will always choose to stand up.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because. You lose.”

Chills. What a line.

And Chuck is left, small, human, no longer a villain, no longer anything.

Gotta be real, woulda been nice to, idk, not see all this essential plot in a flashback, but I know I can only ask so much of Bucklemming.

For Dean to walk away from killing Chuck, right after he’s called him “the ultimate killer” is quite simply the most beautifully heartwrenching thing I could ever ask for. Because that’s who Dean was under Chuck, that’s who Chuck wanted him to be.

And he would have before:

But he’s heard some things since then, heard some things about how others see him. Not as the killer, not as a monster, not as angry and broken or his daddy’s blunt instrument:

I’m not saying that Dean doesn’t kill Chuck for Cas. He doesn’t kill Chuck because he doesn’t think he has to anymore, he doesn’t kill Chuck because he listened to Cas, he took Cas’ words to heart. He made the choice not to be the killer.

“See that’s not who I am, that’s not who we are.”

And Chuck is angry, because he thought, after everything, even after losing, that he would still know Dean well enough to know that he would kill him. But Chuck has never really known Dean, he has never understood where he’s really come from. Cas understood, Sam and Jack understand, but Chuck never did, and writing off Dean as angry and broken is his biggest mistake, because that’s never been Dean.

“It’s not his power anymore.”

And it’s not just his physical power, it’s his power over the story, over the boys that’s the real power taken from him.

For Jack to be the one to bring everyone back, for him to be the hero of the story? That’s poetic right there. Now, I will say, I don’t think this story ends with him as God, because for him, the child, to take on this burden, it doesn’t make a ton of sense to me for his arc, but we shall see next week. It felt pretty tied up, but there’s one major loose end: and that’s Jack seeing Cas again.

“Just you and me, going wherever the story takes us. Just us.”

“Finally free.”

This doesn’t feel triumphant to me, it doesn’t feel like relief. It feels like they’ve settled, like this is the best they’re going to get, so they might as well make the best of it, at least they have each other.

For Cas and Jack to be carved into the table? I cry.

And for the montage, very similar to “Swan Song” to be set to “Runnin on Empty”? Sorry but that’s just too sus to be ignored.

They packaged this episode as an ending, because for many, it might be. The season’s story, the season about fighting Chuck is over. So, you might be asking (or, well, screaming, judging by my replies lol), what’s left? And that’s a good question, Chuck has been defeated, so what is left? What’s left is what’s really mattered all season: the relationships that have been crafted over the years. Dean and Sam’s unhappiness at the end of the episode, where “just you and me” sounded more of a grudging acceptance than anything else, is one of the clues that has to be looked at. Why didn’t Sam find Eileen, why didn’t Jack bring back Cas? Those two characters specifically are the ones we need to watch out for. As I’ve said over and over again, peace, contentment, satisfaction, those don’t come from Sam and Dean on the open road together anymore. They have a family, more of a family than they did when they started hunting together all those years ago, and that family is what holds them together. They need each other, of course, but each other isn’t enough anymore. Sam needs Eileen, Dean needs Cas. That is where they will find their peace.

This episode, as many written by Bucklemming was sloppy, rushed, packed full of shit, and had little gems that we can talk about forever, but that was the end of the season, and next week? Andrew Dabb brings us home, where Dean and Sam will finally be able to choose what they want for themselves, and that, my friends, is Eileen and Cas.

#supernatural #spn #spoilers #my meta #spn 15x19 #destiel #saileen

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unalivejournal · 3 years ago

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u mentioned only reading kripke era fic do you have a reclist 👀👀👀and if not could you link some of ur faves cuz the stuff that gets circulated the most right now is all like late late seasons fic and kripke era is my favorite too but im having trouble finding that many fics for it or even seasons 6-10 era which im fine with also. its just that like. the last five seasons were so bad that it makes fic generally worse too because people have to jump off of just Thee stupidest plot choices no matter how good their prose skills might be. but anyway yea if u have recs that would be awesome :)

hi anon i was thinking abt making a reclist and u just gave me the perfect excuse thank u

jess adamilligan’s kripke era fic recs

from making this ive learned that i never bookmark ANYTHING. sorry all of these r like….. 10k and under. i DO read longer fic but i don’t have any kripke era longfics bookmarked & tbh i prefer short oneshots

season one gen

disclaimer because it’s unfortunately needed: NONE of these are w*ncest! they’re all completely tagged as gen and i did not read them with the intent of consuming ship content.

Coaster Park by fogsrollingin, 10.4k, G, gen

Coaster Park had been experiencing an unusually high frequency of technical difficulties. Dean wouldn't have pulled a shift treating nauseated, heat-stroked, or dehydrated park-goers for that if he could've helped it, but when 'technical difficulties' were accompanied by rumors of things moving and stopping on their own in front of the operators' eyes, Dean had to throw down.

No historical tragedies or disasters in the area, ectoplasm, or EMF. Dean's only lead was a battered-looking kid that'd been coming to the park every day since it'd all started.

really interesting au fic! slightly ‘it’s a terrible life’. dean winchester is a hunter/EMT and sam wesson is a college kid destined to die on a roller coaster ride.

two basic motivating forces by sahwen, 7.8k, T, gen

He can’t cry, it’s not allowed; even as a child he was hushed into silence, whether his tears were from a long car ride or a late night or a raging fever. It’s never been an option, it’s never been an available outlet, and it’s not about to start being one just because he’s having an emotional breakdown on the bathroom floor.

Sam isn't only afraid of clowns.

BIG emetophobia tw (both for graphic depictions of nausea/vomiting and for the fact that this fic is about sam suffering from emetophobia) for this one but it’s my favorite sickfic. portrays anxiety over getting sick really well and is a fascinating examination of the different ways that sam’s fear of loss of control can manifest itself. also has lovely brothers content <3

Let’s Start at the Very Beginning (Remix of Just as Easy as 123) by nwspaprtaxis, 4k, T, gen

Dean’s functionally illiterate and Sam’s determined to remedy it...

PLEASE READ THIS ONE god it’s so sweet. dean never learned how to read properly due to his nomadic childhood and sam teaches him how.

dean/cas

Broadway Musical by Griftings, 9k, M, m/m

This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.

The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.

Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

somewhat of a fandom classic and the humor holds up wonderfully. a very silly fic completed with commentary from angel radio throughout the entire thing.

Sappiest Season by dollsome, 2.7k, G, m/m

In which Dean and Cas have to stop an evil Christmas tree (like you do), and it requires a little fake couple action.

hilarious little s5ish fic. one of the first i read when getting back into spn. i don’t want to spoil anything but this is my favorite pick me up and i still giggle randomly whenever i think about it

The (Mostly Accidental) Courtship of Dean Winchester by tuesday

Angelic marriage rites were never intended to go quite like this.

another fandom classic. ik this one is recced a lot but how could i NOT include it. dean and cas get married (mostly by accident) and they’re huge cunts about it

the one thing in the galaxy god didn't have his eyes on by prufrock, 2.4k, T, gen + m/m

“Wait,” Dean says. “Let me get this right. You can fly, right—you can teleport—but you can’t drive a car?”

or, after the events of S5E03 "Free to Be You and Me," Dean teaches Cas to drive. Cas finds it stressful

im always a sucker for a good ftbyam fic. also i can’t drive so. resonation

So Says The Sword by komodobits, 85k, E, m/m

The briefing was simple: ‘Stand guard over the Michael Sword until the battle is ready to commence. Await further instructions.’

Castiel doesn’t mind working security duty; he was briefed shortly after the initial salvation of the Sword from the pit, and again before taking up his position. He knows what to do. However, it’s easy to forget that the green room isn’t real. Time moves differently there, the space ever-changing to make a prison of mountains, cathedrals, salt flats, orchards, and whatever Castiel was led to believe about Heaven’s greatest weapon—Dean Winchester is something entirely unexpected.

NO introduction neede. i think everyone on spntumblr has read this already but still. if you haven’t then i am demanding that you read it NOW. tbh i’m just adding this one so that i have at least one long fic here 😭

the weight by @myaimistrue, 3.5k, T, gen + m/m

“Do you…” Bobby sighs. “Listen, Dean, do you have something you wanna tell me?”

It’s the conversational equivalent of being punched in the stomach.

Or, Dean works through some things with Bobby's help.

WHEN I SAW THE USERNAME I GASPED I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS U. anyway i Love coming out fics idk why i just do. the world is ending and dean comes out to bobby

canticles by 2street2car, 10.3k, T, m/m

“But you know something? If I couldn’t get you laid, at least I gave you a good first date.”

feat: footsies at a Ruby Tuesday, stargazing, the recreation of an iconic "Dirty Dancing" scene (no, not that one—the other one), and practicing for When You're With A Girl.

another ftbyam fic that skepticalfrog (i believe?) recommended a while back. made me feel at least 28 new emotions

Epilogue by JayneL, 28k, E, m/m

Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means-- Bobby is here, swearing somewhere above and behind him; and Dean is here, talking about 2014 like it's a foreign country; and Sam is here, and is not Lucifer. Which means--

Cas is no longer when he was. Lucifer sent him back.

Coda to 'The End'.

2014 cas gets sent back to 2009, feelings ensue etc. i don’t remember all the details of this one bc it’s been a while but it’s really good

bonus

currently reading

Fragile As We Lie by perilously, 11k, E, f/f

Dragging Bela Talbot out of perdition isn't so much a decision as it is a frantic choice based on gut instinct. Her soul is bright, if fractured, and Anna yearns to do good again after the perversion of free will that immediately preceded her death.

Bela's no ordinary human, though; she's prickly and damaged and beautiful, and Anna doesn't want to leave her side. So maybe they can figure out how to navigate post-resurrection, post-Apocalypse-that-wasn't Earth together.

#sorry i took a few days to answer this haha #asks #anon #fic recs

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theyarebothgunshot · 3 years ago

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this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

#snail anon #csdsc #sunflower anon #turtle anon #eyes anon #tea anon #peacock anon #alien anon #bear anon #THAT WAS A LOT #anyways next time im just gonna spam you all fsfsgdsgd

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rainbow-shine · 3 years ago

Text

i'll never wear your broken crown, but in this twilight our choices seal our fate

An alternative s4 in where Dean has powers and that changes everything and nothing. Dedicated to @wormstacheangel and inspired by this headcanon.

It started with little things.

So little that Sam wouldn't have noticed them had it not been for the fact that he couldn't help but look at his brother like a hawk lately, partly to comfort himself that he had Dean back and partly to make sure his brother wouldn't find out about his extracurricular activities.

Dean doesn’t gets hurt anymore.

Sam felt his heart stop inside his chest when he entered the kitchen at Bobby's house and found Victor's ghost with his hand embedded in Dean's chest. With a swift movement Sam fired, the ghost disappeared and Dean fell to the ground.

Completely unharmed.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked either way. Dean gave him an unimpressed look before saying no.

The thing was, Sam had seen Olivia's corpse, had seen the corpses of the rest of the hunters. Right now Dean should be bleeding to death on the floor, his heart ripped from his chest, but instead he was just catching his breath like he'd just taken a good hit.

Sam, at that time, thought it was a fluke.

But it kept happening.

They had a dangerous job and the threat of the apocalypse only made the monsters worse, but Dean was always unharmed. Not a single mark stained his body and the times something or someone managed to hurt him, those wounds always disappeared in less than a day.

"You test him, right?" Sam whispered to Bobby, as soon as Dean went to buy something for dinner and Sam stayed with the excuse of researching something on a new book.

"Who?"

"Dean," Sam clarified. “After he was resurrected”.

"Of course I test him, Sam," Bobby hissed. “Do you think I'm stupid?”

"No, it's just…" Sam stopped speaking, realizing that his arguments at the moment would sound more like conspiracies. The fact that Dean was apparently untouchable wasn't exactly a bad thing.

"What?" Bobby asked sharply.

"Nothing," Sam replied, quickly coming up with an excuse. “It's just that I feel like there's something different about him”.

"Sam, your brother just came back from hell. Literal hell,” Bobby exclaimed slightly condescending. “His mind is trying to process a trauma that, as far as I know, no one has ever experienced. You can't expect him to be the same as before, because he won't be”.

"I know, Bobby."

"Then stop complaining".

So Sam stopped. After all, Dean was still Dean and the fact that nothing could hurt him was just one more reason for Sam to do everything he could so that nothing that could reach him.

•●•

The first time Dean went to sleep after being rescued from hell, in the uncomfortable but familiar couch in Bobby's house, he dreamed of a light.

A light so bright that he felt it might be able to melt his eyes out of his sockets, but at the same time it was warming a part of him that always seemed to be cold.

A light that was comforting and gentle. A light that meant love and salvation.

That night, in an abandoned barn in Illinois, Dean knew that he hadn't been dreaming at all.

•●•

When he was a kid and dad decided to start taking Dean on hunts, Sam used to kneel by his bedside and pray that god would keep his brother safe.

After Jess appeared nailed to the ceiling and their apartment was consumed by flames, Sam began to pray for forgiveness.

The day Dean was dragged to hell Sam stopped praying, because he knew that no one was listening to him.

But then Dean was saved. Dean was saved by an angel and Sam felt his faith restored. How he couldn’t have faith when an angel had achieved what he had been trying to do for months?

But apparently Sam Winchester couldn't have good things, because again his faith was destroyed and the angels, as Dean had said, were nothing more than dicks with wings.

The boy with the demon blood.

The curse Azazel left on him and the only chance they had to truly stop Lilith.

There was fear in Dean's eyes.

And that hurt so much more than anything the angels could have told him.

His powers were a curse, but he had stopped Samhain thanks to them. They may not have saved the seal, but an entire city was beginning their day with nothing to worry about thanks to them.

Sam was doing the right thing. He truly was.

It didn't matter that no one seemed to agree with him.

•●•

"Let me guess, you're here for the ‘I told you so’" Dean said, turning on the bench to look at the angel sitting next to him.

“No”.

“Well, good, cause I’m really not that interested”.

"I am not here to judge you, Dean." The angel's voice was surprisingly gentle and Dean tried to ignore the way the light from his halo suddenly looked alluring. Dean hadn't told anyone, not even Sam, what he could see.

Because Dean still wasn't entirely convinced that he hadn't gone crazy.

Big black wings curved slightly around both of them as they chatted and Dean, for a moment, stopped seeing Castiel, the righteous angel of the lord and only saw Cas, someone who looked as lost as Dean felt.

"I don't envy the weight that’s on your shoulders, Dean," Cas whispered. “I truly don’t”.

Then Cas leaned into him and Dean felt his mind short circuit for a second, because the angel clearly seemed to want a kiss. But no, Cas stopped an inch from touching his lips, simply watching him simultaneously with the blue eyes of his vessel and with the hundreds of curious eyes of his true form.

“What…?” Dean's question was interrupted by something coming from Cas' lips and colliding with his. Dean instinctively parted his lips and allowed Cas to give him whatever he wanted.

It wasn't liquid, but it wasn't a gas either. It was tasteless and Dean didn't feel it pass down his throat or vanish in his mouth. His heart raced and he felt… safe. Blessed.

As soon as it started it was over and by the time Dean managed to control his heartbeat, Cas had vanished and no one seemed to have witnessed what had happened.

•●•

Ruby didn't like Dean.

For many reasons, some more obvious or justifiable than others. But for the sake of the role Sam had to play, Ruby forced herself to cooperate with the older of the Winchesters.

But this was too much.

The mere presence of Dean made her feel like there were cockroaches crawling all over her body. His soul had taken on a new glow and Ruby didn't want to know what kind of things Dean was doing with his angel to have that kind of purity.

"I think there's something wrong with Dean," Sam confessed and Ruby could feel the fear making his voice shake or maybe the shaking came from the blood that was still running down her arm.

"What are you talking about?" Ruby asked sweetly, almost genuinely concerned. If it were up to her Dean would still be rotting in hell, but Sam was on his way of doing a miracle and Ruby felt that someone like that deserved all the happiness and satisfaction in the world. Even if it meant having to put up with Dean Winchester.

"He looks different," Sam said. "I think the angels are doing something to him. My brother would never have..."

"What?" Ruby prompted. "Would never have risked his life for an angel?"

"Well, no".

Ruby had a sudden epiphany that they weren't talking about Ana.

"Maybe the angels are… purifying him," Ruby suggested. "I mean, you know what he did when he was in hell".

The idea of Dean, brave and kind Dean, torturing souls in hell and enjoying it was too funny to be true.

"It's something more than that".

"What do you think it is?"

"I don't know!"

Ruby thought that they had already wasted a lot of time talking about Dean, so she decided to silence Sam with a deep and dirty kiss, climbing onto his lap and thinking that heaven could purify Dean as much as they wanted, because she would see to it that Sam was more powerful than they could ever imagine.

•●•

The angels had taken his brother and Sam swore he was going to kill them as soon as he found them.

Wasn't it enough that they were manipulating and corrupting him, they also had to make him relive what happened in hell?

Dean had protected him from many things. Dean, his older brother, had taken it upon himself to give him a childhood that he never allowed himself to have. Dean had been in the front row of his school play. Dean had made him tomato rice soup whenever he got sick. Dean had put a wad of money and a cell phone in his bag when he had left for Stanford.

Dean had sold his soul to save him.

So now it was Sam's turn to save his older brother.

•●•

"For what it's worth," Cas murmured against his lips. Dean was shuddering with what could be fear or perhaps anticipation. "I would give anything not to have you do this".

•●•

Sam had killed Alistair and Dean was furious.

Hundreds of emotions were piling up in his mind and he wasn't able to understand how his brother could be so stupid to not see that his powers were changing him for the worse. Dean could feel that something was wrong with Sam and his little brother didn't seem to mind.

"I did it to save you!" Sam insisted, throwing his hands up as if Dean was going to lunge at him despite still being slightly dizzy from the hospital drugs. "I only used my powers to protect you when the angels couldn't!"

"Cas did the best he could."

"Really?" There was a note of hysteria in Sam's voice. "Are you going to defend him?"

"Sam..."

"He forced you to torture Alistair despite knowing what you did in hell!"

"He had no other choice!"

"He's using you!"

"But at least he has never lied to me!"

The lightbulb in the room exploded.

Both brothers froze and Dean could see that Sam was breathing heavily and refusing to meet his eyes.

"Sammy?"

"I'm going to get some air," was all Sam said before he practically ran out of the room.

Leaving Dean wondering if things between them would one day stop being so broken.

•●•

Dean's eyes glowed blue.

Angelic blue.

Sam had to save his brother before it was too late.

•●•

The first time Dean healed him, Sam felt like something inside him was burning.

It had been a hunt like any other. No seals threatening to break, no angels or demons. Just the two of them against an angry ghost, just like old times.

Except the ghost was really angry and by the time Dean managed to burn their bones, Sam had been thrown into several graves and several trees and he was sure the back of his head was bleeding.

"Sam!" Dean yelled, running up to him and gently laying him on the ground, with his head in his lap, examining the severity of the injury. Sam felt like a little kid again, feeling safe next to his big brother.

For a moment, there was no apocalypse or arguments. Just the warmth of his brother's body and gentle fingers running through his hair.

"Dean, I'm fine," Sam managed to say. "You know how much head injuries bleed. It's less serious than it seems".

"I know, Sammy".

And then Sam felt the soft strokes on his hair turn into flames and a gasp escaped from his throat. The pain lasted only a second and by the time Sam regained awareness of his surroundings, none of his injuries were still hurting.

"What did you do to me?" Sam hissed, pulling away from Dean and standing up quickly and nearly falling back to the ground from the wave of nausea that washed over him.

"I… I don't know." Dean looked as terrified as Sam felt. "I just wanted to make you feel better".

Dean wasn't normal anymore. Whatever the angels had done or were doing to him was changing his brother.

And Sam no longer knew if he could save him.

•●•

"What's happening to me, Cas?" Dean asked. Trying to convince himself that his little brother was safe and that even though Lilith had escaped, she at least hadn't made any deals with Sam.

"You're changing," was Cas' soft reply. "A metamorphosis, a revelation".

"Am I not human anymore?" Dean asked with his voice showing the terror he really felt.

"You're always going to be human, Dean," Cas reassured him. "Every saint, every messiah, was as human as you".

"I don't deserve this, Cas," Dean gasped, closing his eyes to avoid seeing Castiel, his wings and halo, his eyes and his light. He wasn’t worthy of witnessing the greatness of an angel, not this angel at least.

"Do you still think you don't deserve to be saved?" Cas whispered and Dean trembled slightly as he felt a warm hand gently touch his chin, forcing him to look up and open his eyes. Cas was looking at him so adoringly that Dean felt like he was going to combust in any minute. "Do you think you don't deserve to be loved?"

This is love? Dean almost asked, but instead he connected his lips to those of the angel in front of him and tried to ignore the way in which, for the first time since he had been dragged to hell, he felt pure.

•●•

Castiel couldn't keep doing this.

Heaven had lied to them. Castiel had delusionally believed that he was keeping Dean safe, that he was rendering him immune to demons, healing his wounds and protecting him from all danger.

When in reality Castiel had only been poisoning him.

Shame mingled with guilt within his grace. His wings were flapping as fast as they could, pulling him towards Dean. Trying to warn him about what heaven was planning. Trying to save him from the hell Castiel had condemned him to.

The angels found him first.

Castiel felt how his wings were imprisoned and how his entire being seemed to be consumed by the most absolute pain.

"Take him to Naomi," ordered one of his superiors. "Fix him as soon as possible".

The last thing Castiel felt was the bond he had begun to form with Dean being brutally ripped apart.

•●•

No demon could touch him and surprisingly that wasn't the strangest revelation Dean had that day.

No, the fact that the demon that tried to touch him in Jimmy Novak's house let out a scream of pain as he held onto his burned hand paled in comparison to everything else:

Seeing Sam, his baby brother, throw himself on a demon to drink her blood, broke his heart in a way that Dean couldn't even begin explain.

After that, seeing how Cas looked like his wings had been passed through a shredder while his true form's eyes seemed dull and unfocused only served to make his wounded heart surrender completely.

Dean was practically invincible, but right now, with the broken pieces of his heart trying to stick together, he felt more fragile than any glass.

•●•

Bobby wasn't having a good day.

No, that wasn't good enough, Bobby wasn't having a good life.

But this day was particularly bad.

No matter how much he wanted to ignore them, Bobby could still hear Sam's delirious screams. And to think that the boy who had entered his house years ago, hiding behind his older brother and observing everything with big eyes full of curiosity, was now going through a detoxification process for having consumed demon blood, was something that Bobby could hardly tolerate.

The fact that Dean was a mess didn't help much either.

Dean appeared to be a shadow, drowning in alcohol and carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Bobby wondered if there was something wrong with him too, for on more than one occasion the lights around him seemed to flicker and his eyes seemed to emit a strange light.

What had these two idjits gotten themselves into now?

•●•

Dean didn't know what else to do anymore.

"She's poison, Sam," Dean said, praying his brother saw reason. Sam just gave him a wry smile.

"What about Castiel?" Sam hissed and Dean instinctively took a step back. "Is he poison too, Dean?"

They had both lied to each other and here were the consequences.

"Cas is an angel," Dean replied. "He's just protecting me".

"What makes you different from me?" Sam asked. "Tell me, why are you allowed to be a freak and I'm not?"

"Sam that's not how things are..."

"Of course they are!" Sam yelled. "All my life I have been the freak of our family, I never fit in with you and dad, and I was ready to accept that I'm different from you, but it turns out that you are the same freak as me!"

"It's different and you know it, Sam," Dean tried to argue. "Cas never made me drink his blood, he never made me promises too good to be true, and he never made me addicted to anything".

"Why?" Sam asked, sounding exactly like the scared little kid who had believed that the monster under his bed was real. Dean felt his heart ache. "Why if we are both freaks I have to be the monster?"

"It's not too late, Sam," Dean pleaded. "We can still stop this. No angels and no demons, just you and me. Like before".

"I… I can't do that, Dean," Sam denied.

"Of course you can," Dean insisted, moving slowly toward Sam. "Say goodbye to Ruby, return with me to Bobby's house and we will find a way to end it all. I just want you to be okay, Sammy".

Sam's skin began to burn the moment Dean placed his hand on his arm.

No.

"Sammy?" Dean didn't recognize his own voice, he felt like his body had ceased to be his. A witness of his worst nightmares. A tear ran down his cheek. "Sammy, please".

The blow hurt less than the implications of what just happened.

•●•

It wasn't fair.

None of this was fair.

The place where Dean's hand had touched it still hurt. A reminder of what he had sacrificed for the greater good. A mockery of what he had lost by trying to be a hero.

But he couldn't stop, not now that he was so close to ending it all. Not when it was only a matter of hours before Lilith tried to break the final seal.

Ruby's presence was a comfort with the same intensity as a punishment, because Dean hadn't trusted him the way she did, but still Sam wanted the presence of his older brother.

That part of him that had believed for years that his older brother was a superhero right now wanted to run up to his brother and beg for forgiveness.

But Sam was no longer a child and his brother had made a decision.

It was time for Sam to made his, too.

•●•

The angels had kidnapped him. There was no other way to describe what they had done to him, but Dean had made a promise and he planned to keep it. So he stayed there and listened to what the angels told him.

But the moment Zacharias leaned toward him, his movements clinical and expressionless in a way Cas' had never been, Dean couldn't resist the urge to seal his lips, lower his gaze, and take several steps back.

"Dean," Zacharias sighed, as if Dean was a little kid who didn't want to eat his vegetables.

"No," Dean refused and before he could regret it he added. "I want Castiel to do it".

The expression on Cas' face was heartbroken.

"Very well," Zacharias agreed, before ordering Cas to come over to him.

With Cas' lips so close to his and with the warmth of what he now knew was grace enveloping his body, Dean wondered if Sam had been right and Cas had been poisoning him too.

Perhaps both of them had poisoned each other.

"You're almost ready," Zacharias marveled when Cas broke away from him. "Everything will go according to plan".

Dean wasn't so sure about that anymore.

•●•

"Sam," Ruby said, her dark eyes showing a panic Sam never remembered seeing. "Time is running out, are you going to do it or not?"

With Dean's voice telling him that he was a monster echoing in his head, Sam knew he really had no other choice.

•●•

"You know what's real?" Dean asked and didn't wait for an answer before grabbing the lapels of Cas' trenchcoat and slamming his lips against his.

Cas seemed to freeze for a moment before reciprocating the kiss with intensity. His black wings curved around both of them and Dean felt the heat of his halo brushing against his hair. Invisible hands caressed his skin and hundreds of eyes watched him adoringly.

"This is real," Dean gasped as they parted. "This, us, people, families— that's real. You're gonna watch them all burn, Cas?"

"What would you have me do, Dean?" Cas whispered. His wings trembling slightly.

"Get me to Sam," Dean said. "We can stop this before it's too late".

"I do that, we will all be hunted," Cas replied. "We'll all be killed".

"If there is anything worth dying for... this is it" was all Dean could say.

Dean barely had time to react before he was being pushed into one of the walls and kissed desperately. Dean raised his hands to tangle them in Cas' hair and parted his lips the moment he felt Cas' tongue touch his lower lip.

His body accepted Cas' grace with ease.

"We have to find Sam, we have to stop him from killing Lilith," Cas told him when they parted.

"Why?" Dean asked, feeling a little dizzy. "Lilith is going to break the final seal".

"Lilith is the final seal," Cas said. "She dies; the end begins".

•●•

Sam had never felt a power like this.

It was all about to end and he could finally have the life he deserved. His nightmare would end and everything Azazel had planned would be in vain. Sam would use the powers that hell had given him for good. He would use the demon blood that ran through his veins to prevent the apocalypse.

And maybe, when things finally ended, Sam could apologize to Dean and all of this would be nothing more than a bad memory.

Lilith was smiling and Sam was eager to erase that smile once and for all.

Finally, everything was about to end.

•●•

Castiel was committing treason.

He didn't even think twice before vanishing Zacharias and carrying Dean as quickly as his wings allowed him to the house of the prophet of the lord. It was the only chance they had to find Sam and stop the apocalypse before it started.

"You guys aren't supposed to be there," said the prophet, frowning. "You're not in this story".

"Yeah, well..." Castiel said. "We're making it up as we go".

Castiel then took a moment to look at Dean, his soul shining as bright as the sun and cradling his grace as if he never wanted to be without it. Castiel felt a wave of affection for the human he had rescued from hell, for the man who had kissed his lips like a lover.

He sensed the archangel's presence long before he appeared and Castiel knew that they had run out of time.

Regardless of whether the prophet was watching them, Castiel pulled Dean to share a heavy kiss. A kiss of regret for lost time. A goodbye kiss.

"I'll hold him off!" Castiel gasped against Dean's lips, allowing most of his grace to flow to him. If Castiel couldn't protect him, at least he would make sure his grace did. "I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!"

Dean connected their lips one last time.

"Good luck".

In the end, Dean had been right. This was something worth dying for.

•●•

He had been too late.

•●•

"I was the best of all those sons of bitches!" Ruby yelled, a maniacal smile curving her lips. "The most loyal!"

Sam had stopped listening to her, just staring in horror at what he had done.

This is not how things are supposed to be. This shouldn't have been the end of this. He had made a stupid mistake, he had been arrogant and he had been naive. Sam had only wanted to protect the world; he had only wanted to take some of the burden off his brother's shoulders.

Sam, for once in his life, had just wanted to do something right.

"You're too late," Ruby scoffed and Sam felt like he might start crying when he saw his big brother.

"I don't care," Dean hissed and Sam could only watch paralyzed as Dean placed his hand on Ruby's forehead and she started screaming, her eyes on fire and the demonic essence of her fading.

"I'm sorry," Sam sobbed. "I'm so sorry, Dean".

Dean couldn't even look him in the eye.

"We have to get out of here," was all Dean said. "Let's go, Sam".

"Dean," Sam gasped. "He's coming".

Dean ignored him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the exit.

For the first time in months, Dean's touch was no longer uncomfortable.

•●•

The apocalypse had begun.

56 notes · View notes

nancylou444 · 4 years ago

Note

I forgot if i sent it to u or someone else so i'm sending it again anyway

Please Read this to the end and then judge me.

I do not understand at all why you and all other anti destiels dont ship destiel and think that dean is straight and i hate you for that from the bottom of my heart. i mean cant you see how dean truely loves cas and gives no shit about Sam, his brother?and also jensen and writers ship it.

You are so stupid and do not deserve to live in this world period

Read this list below.it may help you take off your anti destiel colored glasses and Accept the truth:which in fact is that Destiel Will become canon.

Reasons Why Destiel Will Definitely Become Canon Before The Show Ends 101:

1.Jensen Ackles: Destiel Doesn't Exist.

2.Jensen Ackles: Because Dean is a lover of the LADIES.

3.Dean will always choose SAM over anyone else.

4.SAM and Dean are soulmates.

5.Castiel: you chose EACHOTHER.

6.Jensen Ackles' Unscripted Frustrated look into the camera in "Fan Fiction" episode.wink wink

7.Jensen Ackles: there wasn't a whole lot of dean and cas storylines in season 9.personally,i kind of enjoyed that.

8.Jensen Ackles: i think the whole dean and cas thing has gotten a little out of proportion.

9.Jensen Ackles: "destiel is real" is it?? Where?? Where is it real??

10.Jensen Ackles: What? What castiel? Nah just me and my pies!

11.Jensen Ackles: We sit down with the writers in a couple weeks. It boils down to these two brothers, that’s the core and the heart of the show, their journey, their fight for each other.

12. “You are homophobic if you don’t ship destiel!"

13.Dean Winchester is fuckin Straight.

14.Eric Kripke : I'm just really interested in guys, STRAIGHT guys who have a tight friendship,they are really fun to write...

15.Dean Winchester: I'm Dean winchester.i enjoy sunsets,long walks on the bitch and frisky WOMEN.

16.Dean Winchester : I dont swing that way.sorry.

17.Dean winchester : yeah sorry again pal i dont play for your team.

18.Dean sold his soul for SAM.

19.Dean died so that he could meet with Death and get SAM’s soul back which of course Castiel left in hell.

20.Dean gave away the Impala and was willing to die with a Croatoan infected SAM.

21.Dean breathed in the poisonous smoke, so that he would die with SAM.

22.Dean wanted out of an AU with Mary and Jessica alive, because AU!SAM didn’t like Dean that much.

23.SAM and Dean made promise to each other, made vows to each other really, in a church.

24.SAM and Dean choose each other over the world, anything, and everything, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

25. Dean refers to SAM as though HE is his spouse (”does he want a divorce?”, “Lucy”...)

26.Dean would rather live in a world WITH demons than live in a world WITHOUT SAM.

27.When Dean forgot everything else, including his own name, he still remembered SAM.

28.Dean : I can’t do it without my brother, I don’t want to

29.Dean to Sam :You’re the ONLY one who could’ve talked me out of it

30.Dean to Sam :There ain’t no me if there ain’t no YOU.

31.Dean to Sam :“Because whatever we have between us, love, family, whatever this is, they’re always going to us it against us.”

32.Dean to Sam: “You’re my weak spot SAMMY, and I’m yours”

33.Dean or Sam i dont remember: “All that matters now, all that’s ever mattered, is that we’re together.“

34. Dean to Sam :“Don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you!“

35.Dean to Sam : “I made you a promise in that church, you and me, come whatever!”

36.The canon friendship between Dean and Castiel is toxic and borderline-abusive, full of lies, threats, insults, abandonment, beatings, and betrayals.

37. Sam, possessed by the devil himself, took control of his own body and beat Lucifer because Dean was there, because Dean didn’t give up even though he was hurt and covered in blood, because seeing Dean bombarded Sam with the memories of their life together.

38. Dean didn’t leave SAM’s bedside , didn’t bury him, didn’t burn his body, didn’t want to say goodbye, and how later he didn’t hesitate to sell his soul.

39.Dean decided not to go into a box, because SAM asked him not to.

40.SAM and Dean were the ones whom were mistaken with gay couple by several people if that matters.

41.SAM to Dean :“you always put me first. Your whole life”,

42.Dean to SAM: “I know where I am at my best, and that is right here, driving down crazy street next to you”,

43.Sam or Dean i dont remember:“you know what brought me back? You did”.

44.Dean’s siren-as admitted by the siren herself-was a copy of SAM.

45.Dean told a male cop "you're awsome".OMG!! He is bi!!!

46.Dean fanboyed over a male tv character.Holy Chuck!! He is bi!!

47.Jensen or Jared:“At its core, it’s the story of two brothers.”

48.Jensen or Jared:“At the end of the day, this starts and stops with the brothers.”

49.Jensen or Jared:“When it comes down to it, it’s about these two brothers.”

50.Dean told Castiel to get the hell outta bunker for SAM while he knew he didnt have his angel powers.Damn! Dean truely loves Cas!

51.Dean figured Castiel was too far gone to be convinced back into their group and bound Death to do their bidding. Dean’s order to Death was to kill Castiel where he stood.#couplegoals

52.Castiel blackmailed Dean by torturing SAM.oh dear god!!! What a True Lover!!

53.Castiel Betrayed sam amd DEAN with crowley.but that's what all lovers do Right???

54.This isnt some romantic show.

55. Castiel is a genderless celestial wavelength of light wearing a male vessel.

56.Dean's chemistry with Baby the Impala is far more noticable than the one with Castiel.

57.Sam even once asked Dean and Baby the impala to get a room.

58.The possibility of Dean and Baby the impala to get sexually involved and the two of them having sex in the finale full frontal is far more than the possibility of non existant Destiel to become canon.

59.Destiel shippers are only a tiny minority of the SPN fandom.

60.Jensen Ackles is fucking done with this shit.

61.Dean left Ben and Lisa for SAM.

62.Misha Collins is the only one who queerbaits.

63.Dean in "red meat" described SAM as the man he loved.

64.Dean sang in a colorful background.OMFG!! he is bi!!

65.Jesen ackles : because being with his BROTHER and doing that is the happiest he is.

66.Dean to SAM: "because i couldnt live with you dead"

67.What show you've been watching???

68.Jared : because that would have RUINED the show to make it about something it wasnt about.

69.Dean has kissed and had sex with an angel.her name was Anna

70.Sera Gamble said “supernatural is the epic love story of SAM and dean”

71.Cw_supernatural IG: it has always been two brothers and the open road.

*Manic laughter*

*Aggressively drop the mic*

*The door is over there*

*Boom! Suck it*

*It sucks to be destieheller*

You are very welcome

Btw I'm a Proud anti destiew and a logical SPN fan.

If You think I'm right,then Chuck bless your logical souls and if not,let me find some fucks to give....sorry,none was found.

The begining part was an example of a savage destieheller.it wasn't me😊ignore it.

Yours truly,anon.

=============================

Holy crap, that is one longass ask. An ask I was thisclose to deleting until I skipped to the bottom.

💖💖💖💖💖

#i love my anons #destiehellers #destiew #dean is as straight in november 2020 as he was in september 2005 #jensen does not like destiel shit #Anonymous

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.15

When You Come Back to Me

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3290

Summary: The reunion of soulmates.

Do I need to say more?

Warnings: mentions of violence, guns and death, swearing, light angst and fluff

A/N: Let me voice what I assume are your thoughts (and mine too, tbh): Fucking finally!

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

So… you might be panicking.

A little.

To be fair, all of your worries were justified, every single one of them, and that was why you voiced them.

“What if he’s gonna attack me? I mean, you thought I was a fake.”

“What if he passes out from the shock? I know no first aid! I barely know my own name!”

“What if he jumps out of the window? I mean, I might if thought I was seeing a ghost-“

Natasha Romanoff shot you an amused glance, continuing her stroll through the halls of Tower, and you had a hunch you weren’t the only one well-aware that the last question was simply you making excuses for not meeting your soulmate just yet.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did, so, so much, but at the same time…. yeah, you were definitely panicking.

“He’s not gonna jump out of a window. As for the other cases, which are about as likely, I’m gonna be there with you to make sure it doesn’t happen before you get to actually talk. Happy?”

Not really.

Your brain was still coming up with more ridiculous what ifs, that annoying little things, and now your frantic heart and the actual worries joined the party and you had a strong urge to spin on your heels and walk the fuck away.

“What if… what if he hates me?” you whispered, your chest tightening at the thought. That was the real concern, wasn’t it? “I mean, I’m alive and he was through hell, because he thought I wasn’t. What if he hates me, because I didn’t come sooner? I can’t even remember him – how messed up is that?”

It wasn’t until the redhead stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you that you realized you had in fact frozen on spot.

“He’s not gonna hate you, милашка,” she assured you with softness you didn’t expect her to be capable of, her features compassionate and kind. “None of that was your fault.”

You ignored whatever she had called you in favour on focusing on more important matters. “But neither it was his.”

A smile flirted on her lips, a simple tug of the corners of her mouth, brief – but you still saw it as she continued walking then, speaking up again.

“You tell him that.”

“Uh-huh…”

By the universal law of the Universe, the she only took few more steps before facing the captain’s door, apparently.

“Ready?”

“Not really,” you murmured honestly, earning an understanding nod.

“That’s fair. Jarvis? Is he decent?” the spy asked lowly as she gently pushed you in front of herself so you entered first.

Instead of an answer, the door slowly opened upon the AI’s command, effectively sending your heart to a gallop you weren’t sure it could handle. The door could creak for a dramatic effect and you wouldn’t be able to hear it over the whooshing noise in your ears.

Natasha Romanoff might have nudged you to come in. You weren’t sure; your legs carried you on their own without you remembering ordering them so.

The spacy bedroom slash private living room with a couch and coffee table was plain. Nothing special about it, huge slats covering a window replacing one of the walls only partly opened.

Sure, it was kinda impressive and it kinda wasn’t and it didn’t matter the moment you had laid your eyes to the second door of the room right opposite to the window.

A blond man stood still in the doorway to what you assumed was his bathroom, hand frozen in motion as it went through his damp hair.

You couldn’t help but stare at him for several reasons.

Firstly, he looked… familiar. There was an air around him, screaming sincerity and gentleness, kindness. Comfort. And sorrow.

You had seen the pictures of him, sure, the video even, but this was something quite different. Upon meeting him in flesh, you somehow knew… it wasn’t all a lie. You were meant to find him and your racing heart and mind were on board with that.

He was also incredibly handsome. You had met a real-life angel and you were confident he must have helped to sculpture this man’s face and body. He was wearing a white tank top, revealing his muscled arms, dark sweatpants hanging from his thin waist, seemingly even thinner with comparison to his broad shoulders.

His face had shock written all over it, but still held beauty no man should possess. Men were supposed to handsome, but seeing his eyes, you couldn’t help but think of the word beautiful. His lips were plump, no doubt prettier than yours, his cheekbones and strong jaw were a gift from God and… you had a hunch that when his hair wasn’t wet and was lighter tone, it resembled a glowing halo.

For some reason and out of nowhere, you recalled the phrase ‘I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying’ and had to wonder if the author of those words thought of this man when writing them down. You could totally see that happening.

Your gaze was glued to him, the depth of his eyes leaving you unable to form words.

“I hate dreams like this,” he whispered hoarsely, sending a shiver down your spine.

His voice, god, his voice, the one you had heard in the video, carrying the same pain, but more importantly, the one you had been hearing in your dreams … said the words written on your skin. There was no doubt now.

It didn’t make you less dumbfounded. What should you even say in a moment like this? What could you say to a man who was your soulmate, the mere sight of you chasing tears into his eyes, because you were supposed to be dead?

“I’m sorry?” you offered hesitantly, causing the man – Steve, Steve Rogers, he had a name, he was your soulmate for god’s sake – release a choked sound. You needed no other confirmation of your words matching the mark on his collarbone.

Also, go me. What a first line to bless him with on his skin.

No other words were exchanged, two people utterly mesmerized by one another, starring at each other in stunned silence.

Agent Romanoff, leaning onto the doorframe, cleared her throat, causing you both to wince. You had totally forgotten about her, to be honest. Clearly, so had the captain.

“Before you ask: yes, she’s real, Steve. Very real,” she emphasized as if she wanted to prove his exclaim about dreams wrong. “She’ll explain what she can, which… isn’t much. Just so you know we ran every test possible already. She’s no faker. I’ll leave you two some privacy.”

With a quiet clank, the door closed shut when she slipped from the room and seemingly, she took all the air from your lungs with her. Or maybe just your ability to speak, you weren’t sure.

“You’re… what—how?” he asked, his face pure shock, unhealthily pale.

Seeing a tear rolling down his cheek and hearing his voice crack nearly broke your heart.

You had a feeling you had always been a softie, the story about soul bonds torn apart enough to make you weepy… living it though? Being in the centre of such heart-breaking story, standing few feet from the man who had lost his soulmate, being able to almost touch the pain and shock on his face, only now noticing the lines of exhaustion, the bags under his eyes… your own eyes started to burn with tears. Again.

He took several hesitant steps closer, his gaze fixed on your features.

“Ca-captain Rogers, I…” His face twisted in a strange grimace, causing your stomach to clench. He probably wasn’t happy about you calling him that. You had been calling him Steve, at least in the video. Obviously. “I mean… Mr. Rogers. Steve.”

He seemed utterly confused and you couldn’t say you blamed him.

You were all really friggin’ confused, alright.

“I don’t… I don’t understand. You-- you-“

“Look just like the woman in the video? The one telling you to-“ let her die. Your stomach rolled over at finishing the thought. You tried to shake it off, focusing on keeping your voice somewhat even. And on actually explaining the situation as much as you could.

“I know. I didn’t remember my name, I don’t remember me, my family, my friends. I don’t… I don’t remember you and yet… there is no way I’m not the person everyone claims I am and you… you seem familiar and I heard your voice in my dream, which is entirely crazy and…-”

Steve watched you, mesmerized and frowning as you chuckled self-depreciatingly. Not knowing what to say next, you unbuttoned the top of your shirt, revealing your collarbone, first the crossed-out words, only then the fresher ones.

Steve erased the distance between you completely, reluctantly holding the hem of your shirt to see.

And the strangest thing was that you wanted him to linger with his gaze. To touch your skin even, run his fingertips over the words, hell, place a kiss over them… and it should freak you out, wanting this from a stranger, but it felt right. You weren’t intimidated by the intimate proximity of a man whom you just met. You liked it. You felt safe. You longed for his arms around you.

Rather than saying your desires out loud – and it would be ridiculously easy under his intent eyes – you breathed in slowly and collected your thoughts.

“I’m… this is gonna sound insane, but Ms. Romanoff already heard this whole story and I know it’s incredible, ‘cause it kinda involves angels and resurrections, but if you’re willing to listen-“

“I’ll listen,” he promised lowly, his brilliant eyes – not blue as you thought at first, but with a little drop of green paint in them, as if God thought of the blue being too perfect and the joke ended up being on him, because they were breath-taking – meeting yours, a vow heavier than his words written in them.

Your breath hitched when the pools of the fascinating colour welcomed you sincerely. You… you wanted to drown in them.

“Thank you. I… you should see something first though.”

“More than the words?” he asked in a whisper, bewildered.

You nodded, taking a hesitant step back, his fingers hovering in the air for few seconds, twitching even, before his hands fell to his sides. You hastily fished out your fake ID to cover the fact his motions made you blush and handed the item to Steve, who frowned in confusion.

You licked your lips and went to explain.

“Sam, Dean and Cas – the men who helped me to get here and find you – they…” How exactly you should put that? Telling a superhero that they faked your ID? “-ugh, they found me and faked my ID since I needed it in order to… eh, exist. And I don’t remember a thing, alright? I didn’t know my name until I read about myself on the internet and Ms. Romanoff – Natasha, ironically – confirmed it, along with the Jarvis. So I picked one. ‘Natasha’ came to my mind first. And-“

“-and Rogers,” he breathed out, slowly lifting his gaze. You couldn’t read his expression, but there was undeniable fascination in his sparkling irises.

“I don’t know you and yet I do. I don’t remember us, but there’s this feeling. I believe this isn’t a coincidence. Or maybe it’s nothing,” you chuckled self-depreciatingly once more. God, what were you doing now… “Maybe I’m not supposed to be here, maybe I’m being silly now-“

Steve interrupted you with a watery laugh, tears springing from his eyes. The sound shut your mouth effectively, surprising you greatly.

“What?”

“It was one of the first things you told me. You being silly. Stupid even,” he explained and your chest tightened. What did that mean? And how could you not remember that dammit!

“…oh. Did you… agree?” you pried, worrying your teeth over your lower lip, only to earn a gentle shake of his head.

“No.”

“What did you say?”

A sad smile graced his lips, soft thing full of sorrow and fondness. “I’ll tell you later if you still want me to.”

“I will!” you reassured him swiftly, perhaps to eagerly. You weren’t sure whether it was the prospect of his presence or learning about yourself (and him) that had you so eager. Probably a bit of both. “I… I’d like to hear the story behind my soulmark too... and to know yours.”

He nodded, thoughtful. “Okay. I promise to tell you everything I know as long as you ask it.”

The message of you having the courtesy to set the direction and pace of the next moments – or perhaps hours, days – didn’t escape your attention and warmed you heart, causing your lips to turn upright a fraction.

“You’re a truly kind person, aren’t you?” you more stated than asked lowly and Steve lowered his gaze as if sheepish, scratching the back of his neck as his eyes frantically searched the room.

“You… uhm, you can judge that later. Why don’t… why don’t we sit on the couch?”

And here went the kindness again…

“I’d like that. I think it’s better if you sit down for what I have to say too.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You were surprised Steve didn’t interrupt you once.

Sure, his face spoke volumes whenever you found enough courage to look up at it, instead of keeping your gaze down in your lap, mostly fascinated by your fiddling fingers.

At the end of your narration, you shrugged and sighed in relief of getting it all out.

“So, here I am. Zero memory besides the dreams of you talking to me and calling me ‘doll’. I’ve seen a video of myself dying, learned about people actually lighting candles for me all over the United States, like I’m… I don’t know. That’s a kind of thing done for Princess Diana, for god’s sake. I did my reading – because I don’t remember who that was. I don’t know things and I—I don’t want to complain, I was apparently brought back from death, I should-- I should be grateful, I know that much, and I am, okay, but-“

You weren’t sure when you had lost control over your brain to mouth filter, when you had lost control over your emotions, because since meeting him, you had been somehow coping, so why now, why-- why were you just pouring words to the limited space between you and couldn’t just stop-

Large, slightly calloused and very much warm hand caught your suddenly trembling fingers. Your mouth fell shut, your eyelids closing on instinct. Why was there the burn in your eyes again as if you wanted to cry? You had no right to cry.

…did you?

“Hey, hey, don’t do this,” Steve coaxed you, his other hand brushing your shoulder and you just wanted him to hug you. You would take the soothing touch and calming circles drawn on your shoulder since he offered at least that though, but god, a hug would feel so much better. “You lost your memories. Your life.”

“You lost your soulmate,” you whispered back, opening your eyes with a shaky breath. He averted your gaze and you caught a flicker of shame and anger before he did so.

“I killed my soulmate,” he corrected you, his voice turning hoarse and hard, his touch disappearing from you. You wanted it back instantly, already missing it and hating how his hands clenched into fists in what could be self-hatred.

You shook your head. You two were being ridiculous and downright stupid. Instead of being happy to find each other again – though not quite – you were having a pity party and going for guilt trips. You bit your lip nervously when reaching to cover one of his fists for a change.

His fingers immediately twitched and you fought the instinct to pull away. Or lean in?

“You were given an impossible choice, Steve. No one can blame you for trying to save everyone.”

“I can. I do… as should you,” he uttered and you sighed, realizing that maybe he did believe you that you meant it – maybe he didn’t –, but it didn’t matter as long as it was eating him up from inside.

You shrugged rather light-heartedly, but took special care to emphasize every word that came out of your mouth next, to show you were hundred percent serious and honest.

“Well, I guess I don’t. All of this sucks and I cannot imagine what it’s like for you, me being here, maybe acting… differently than—ugh, than me. The me you know. The me that remembered us. But I’m here. Alive. If there’s a chance…”

This got him look at you, expression conflicted. Yeah, you understood ‘conflicted’, alright. You wanted to learn everything you forgot, but upon saying out loud how hard it must have been for him, you realized just how natural would be for him to ask you to leave and let him have his peace after… everything.

“But if… if you want me to leave, I mean, I won’t be very happy about it, but-“

His fist opened immediately, gripping your hand almost painfully before you could even pull away an inch.

“Please don’t!” he pleaded hastily, effectively starling you. His features softened when you nodded then, his eyes burning with sincerity. “If you still want to hear about how we met…”

“I’d like that very much,” you attempted to smile at him, calmness washing over you when his face lit up.

Crisis averted.

Though not the threat for your heart. It didn’t ache as much as it had when you first entered – but boy, now it started swelling in your chest as his eyes sparkled, his whole being coming a bit more to life. It was a breath-taking show to watch.

“Do you want something to drink? I’m being a terrible host, sorry-“

He stood up quickly, releasing your hand, his own instantly going to clutch at the fabric of his sweats. It was endearing, seeing him being the nervous one.

“Feels like you’d be entitled. But you’re doing fine, Steve.”

“O-okay. Tea?”

“I guess…? I found out I don’t really have a thing for coffee…?” you explained hesitantly and for some reason, it brought a smile to Steve’s face. Maybe there was a story?

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Right. You probably hadn’t been a coffee person before- before. That would make sense. Him knowing that would make even more sense.

“Well, I’m glad at least some things apparently don’t change.”

A hint of a blush painted his cheeks and you watched him, fascinated. Aw, now that was so precious. Why blush though?

“I… uhm, I still have what used to be your favourite tea stocked, so… maybe that?”

Your lips parted at his thoughtfulness. It made you wonder though; just how far your relationship had been when you had… ugh, died? Were you official? Probably. Was there any funny business involved? With your dreams, you had a pretty good idea about that, but you could never be sure they weren’t just memories of your fantasies. Were there… plans for the future already?

Just how well did you know each other? How much you were robbed of? How much of you Steve was missing? How could you not remember this amazing man, who apparently cared about you so deeply?

Your dark thoughts must have shown on your face, because he wavered.

“Or not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, uh, freak you out or-“

“No! That’s not—it’s just-I--it-ugh-“ Oh wow, you were so terrible at speaking. ”That… the tea, yeah, that sounds pretty nice.”

His smile had faltered earlier, now returning, only less convincing. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll be waiting right here,” you declared, patting the couch with both hands for demonstration.

Perhaps it was only your imagination, but he actually seemed assured at that. Less worried.

Yeah, you definitely made that up.

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 16

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Thank you for reading!

I hope the wait was worth it ;) Yeah/nah? Btw, Natasha called ‘Nat’ a cutie (or a loved one).

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impala1967dwinchester · 4 years ago

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Castiel: Walking Lust

*Best GIF of Cass I have ever seen*

Paring: Human!Castiel X Angel!Reader

Pov: Reader’s

Rating: Adult Mature

Warnings: Adorable Cas, Reader falling in love

Summary: The Reader and Castiel have been friends since the start of time. Since both of them were angels they spent a lot of time together, but angels don't have feelings for each other? Do they? After Castiel is turned into a human, the reader gets to for the first time see Castiel’s face seeing not his soul but features instead.

Word Count: 1,209

We’d have been friends for since... well since forever ago. Earth, when it was being made Cass and I were a little child. He was already daddy’s little boy, and to be honest I was daddy's little girl. We were the best of his children, that was until he sent Cass and me down to Earth. Cass and I acted as if we were siblings but we were far from, having been “Made up” in Fathers whatever image. For the billions of years that the two of us wanted, asked, and pleaded with Father for a case. He finally gave us one.

And when I say one I mean like a case, I mean like the hardest case that there was to give at the time. Which just so happened to be The Winchester’s, but more specifically the Winchester boys. Dean and Sam Winchester the brothers that somehow made the end of the world come and so much more other stuff I’m not really supposed to tell you.

After four hellish years, Cass turned laventihean, Cass thinking he was god, Michael/Adam killing him, Cass being incredibly dull. An issue happened, a very big issue happened. Something I didn’t know could possibly happen. Cass was drained of his angel grace and turned human, I could have saved him, but he said “No, you stay angel, we need comms inside.” I just had to go with what he said has the grace that was inside him, his wings fading, his true body coming into my view.

If you ever thought Cass’s soul was bright those sky blue eyes, and white teethed smile was so much brighter. The brown short spiked hair, oh Father, I should have probably stop when I could. But because neither Winchester’s would know how to take care of Cass, I did which only put me in a worse spot than before.

When Cass left the bunker I kept a close eye on him. Making sure he was safe and kept the Winchester’s and me in mind. Okay so after I saw his true maybe I talked to the older Winchester about ‘Kicking’ Cass out, I guess it happened when I went out to follow an order form Father I was very much a spy. I was only still at the bunker because the Winchester's were looking for angel grace to give back to Cass.

Then all a sudden Cass was back, he was standing in front of me again. The bright glow of his soul no longer what I was staring at. The entire person in front of me was so handsome. And yes I know I’m an angel and I shouldn’t be interested in anyone.

His blue eyes were as bright as the sky on the brightest day too. He’d smile and the wrinkles on his face squished around his eyes but still, the bright blue was so amazing and was pulling me closer and faster every time I saw him.

His white teeth the color of what heaven looked like was even more enticing. He’d smile when he learned something new or was talking about his bees and how so important they were to the evolution to the earth. I also agreed in, but I wasn’t as in love with the bees as Cass was.

Father, Give me the blessing of having self-control.

At least maybe I can have some self-control with Cass oh wait no I can’t, His brown spiked hair, just enough for me to drag my hands through his hair and pull it pulling his face closer to my body. My nails dragging down his back I can still feel the presence of his wings, their energy driving his passion. My grace spilling out of my pores, gracing Cass's body. His grunts of passion, moans of love. His pet names “Honey, Sweetie, Sugar” Somehow always making everything melt inside of me. My lewd and curious mind spitting out bad but wonderful things. I had Cass under my control, he was mine and mine alone.

Waking up was the worst feeling ever. “That was all just a dream?” I asked out loud. I was more asking the question out loud to make it real, but I didn’t expect what happened next, which was the answer. The answer that came from the voice of Cass, ‘Shit’ was all I could think of.

“The answer to your question is, Probably,” Cass said walking into the room that the Winchester boys had given me. “What did you hear?” I asked him. “To be honest, I think it was moaning, and groaning like you were having a nightmare that’s why I came by your room to see if you were okay, Y/n. Are you okay?” Cass said. As he came closer to where I was sitting.

I rubbed my legs together feelings of being suddenly aroused come through my legs and up my waist to my heart. Okay, the dream was nice and everything but what in the holy name of my father, just happened? “You know this is the first time I have ever seen your face, Y/n!” “Same, for me Cass,” I answered quickly.

“There are many features on your beautiful face that I am attracted to,” Cass said, I had forgotten how straight forward Cass really was, I had always thought was because of his angelic side, but maybe it was just Cass. “You see Y/n, you look at me like how do I say it, like how Dean looks at well his car, any type of women, and food.” I turned my head to the side and had a questioning look on my face telling him I needed more information. “Okay how about how Father looks at his people of the earth, almost like he’s madly in love with them. Are you madly in love with me, Y/n?”

What is going on, He’d only been human for a few months, well if we are being exact it been 6 months 23 days so it been some time, sometimes for him to notice that I stare at him more often, and the stares are so much longer. We have been here together for centuries, for eons. Why now does he notice? Was his angelic side holding him back from being able to express his true feelings?

“You’re overthinking, Y/n,” Cass said breaking my train of thought, jeez those lips look really close and look so damn enticing. Oh Father he is really close like our knees are touching his breath fanning me, sending me into a frenzy. I’m moving all by myself, What are you doing Y/n? Stop moving closer.

What happens if Cass doesn’t want this?

“Come over here, and let's stop wasting the time we could have been using. I’m tired of going by the rules. I may not understand love, but we have been together for eons. Y/n I love you, and I want you to be mine for the rest of time.” I pulled the covers from over my body, and jumped into the lap of Cass, his warm hands grabbing my hips and grinding me against him. “I have learned a few things since being human, mostly from Dean. Has Dean says “Rock her world!” and then he winks.”

#castiel x reader #castiel gif #castiel #lustful #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #implied smut #humancas #angelreader

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 5 years ago

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Flatbush & Atlantic: part iv

And here’s part iv! I’d love it if y’all would reblog, this is a work I’m really proud of and the more people it’s shared with the better! My inbox is always open, and I’d love to hear your thoughts, even if it’s just “AAAAAH.” Enjoy!

part i part ii part iii

part iv

December 12

Cass grimaced, looking over at the tab on her laptop that had the Islanders game open. They were down 3-1 late in the third, and it didn’t look like they were going to be able to pull it off. It was the last game of a ten day roadie, and they had lost all but one against the Red Wings right at the beginning. And the Wings were 10-21, so it wasn’t even a confidence booster. To make matters worse, Mat was on a points drought; he hadn’t gotten an assist, let alone scored, since the first game of the trip, a 4-1 loss to the Blue Jackets. They also were playing a few players down, an MCL sprain and the ever-vague “lower body injury” kept the team from being at full strength.

As the game came to a close, she didn’t even know if Mat wanted to talk to her. His relentless dedication was one of her favorite things about him, but it also led him to take things way too personally and be way too hard on himself even when — especially when — the situation didn’t call for it. He was probably beating himself up as the boys headed back into the locker room, being short with his teammates and trainers and whatever poor sports reporter had been sent to ask “how they planned on snapping this unfortunate streak” in the post-game interviews. He’d never be deliberately mean or unkind to anyone, but just like anyone, her boyfriend got stressed and overwhelmed and didn’t always know how to deal with it. I saw the game, she texted him, I’m proud of you. Call me if you want.

Dec. 15 (wed)

Mat had barely spoken to her since the return from the roadie, and it was starting to get on her nerves. Texts were responded with single words, if they were answered at all. They were supposed to have visited the Met yesterday , but that hadn’t happened either. He had cancelled, saying that “some team thing came up” and he wouldn’t be able to make it. Barely apologized. And what pissed Cass of more than almost anything was that she wanted to help, she wanted so badly for him to just talk to her, she wouldn’t judge him or make him feel like he was a shitty player or a shitty person, but she couldn’t do that if he wasn’t even picking up her damn calls. Who do you talk to when there’s almost nobody in the world who understands the position you’re in?

Maybe that was just it. She’d go to the people who did understand. Paige had added her to the WAGs Whatsapp group the week prior, and from everything she had gathered so far, it was exactly the sort of place to go for advice. Cass pulled up the chat, torn between not wanting to seem like she was oversharing but not really sure what else she could do. Hey, guys, she started. Mat’s been taking the losing streak pretty personally (as I’m sure a lot of your guys are) and seems to be pulling away. Any advice? I don’t want to push him but I know it’ll get worse if he just keeps it all bottled inside. Clicking send, Cass sighed, leaning back in her desk chair and trying desperately to study for her Environmental Law final.

At some point after midnight, she closed her books and laptop with frustration. The test wasn’t until next week, but she wasn’t going to get anywhere trying to study as distracted as she was. She grabbed her phone, heading to the bathroom to brush her teeth and check the group chat. No fewer than six of the women had written back, some of whom she hadn’t even met, with long, sympathetic paragraphs overflowing with advice. She read them all, touched by the time, effort, and care that everyone has put into making her feel just a little less anxious. But the overwhelming message was clear. Find balance, but don’t let him blow you off. Be a support system, but you’re not his therapist. And repeated again and again, Talk to him.

She tapped out a message before she turned her bedside lamp off, hoping that with morning would finally come a proper response from Mat. Can we meet for coffee tomorrow morning? You know as well as I do that we need to talk. I’ll be at Donahue’s at 8.

Read: 12:23 AM

Dec. 16 (thurs)

Her foot tapped nervously, hands clasped tightly around the cup in front of her and beanie pulled over her head, curls poking out from under. He had read the text, but Cass had no clue if Mat was actually going to show up or not. He hadn’t responded. It was ten past eight, and Cass was just about ready to give up and head to school early. She had just put her laptop back in her bag when she caught Mat out of the corner of her eye. He gave her a small smile, equal parts nervous and almost — bothered? “Hey,” he said softly, unzipping his puffer coat and sliding into the chair opposite her. “You said you wanted to talk?”

Suddenly, the whole elaborate speech Cass had prepared, about letting her in and supporting him and communication, left her mind. “Yeah.”

“So, talk,” Mat said, with a slight edge to his voice.

She looked down at her cup. “I get that you’re disappointed about the losing streak. I get it and I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped —”

“I don’t think you do get it, Cassidy —”

She cut him off. “Let me finish, Mathew. I’m sorry that you’re not doing as well as you hoped, and I do get how shitty it is when you know you’re putting in the time and effort and practice and it doesn’t seem like anything’s working, but you’ve barely talked to be about any of it.”

“‘Cause I don’t want to,” Mat mumbled.

Cass leaned back in her chair. “And I get that. I get if you don’t want to talk to me. But you’re not talking to anyone. You’re not talking to Tito, I asked him and he said you’ve been just as closed-off with the team. You’re not talking to any of the other guys. And I’d bet you’re not talking to your parents or your sister either.”

No one gets it!” Mat said in frustration, a little louder than was necessary. “I go through so much shit and have so much pressure on me and…” He trailed off for a minute. “I don’t want to disappoint the team, I don’t want to disappoint the fans. I don’t want to disappoint my family. I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Everyone had their ups and downs,” Cass started.

“And I get that,” Mat said, holding his head in his hands and looking down at her coffee cup. The same white-and-blue one he had gotten her two months earlier. “But it’s hard. It’s hard when I’m feeling like the fans aren’t getting what they deserve when they come to games, and like I’m not worth what they’re paying me right now. I know you want to, but you don’t get it.”

Cass looked away, turning her eyes to the street. The sidewalk was dusted in white, turning to slush every time someone walked past. It was the first snow of the year. “Then help me to.”

He breathed out, finally relaxing a little. “It’s not that easy.”

“I want to help you,” Cass said, leaning over the table and clasping his hands in hers. “But you can’t keep freezing me out like this, chou. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to me.”

Mat closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “I just don’t want this to become your thing too. You shouldn’t have to deal with this. I know right now kind of sucks for me but that’s just how it is sometimes, you know? It’s just how it is and I have to get over it. I have to get over myself.”

“Mat, your well-being and mental health isn’t something you can just ‘get over.’ Or even something you should. I’m not a professional, and if you need one that’s something we can find,” Mat wrinkled his face, and Cass was pointedly reminded how often men’s mental health was ignored, “but I’m here for you to talk to. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.”

He ran his thumb over her hand. “But you didn’t sign up for this.”

Cas shook her head. “Mathew Barzal. This is exactly what I signed up for. I’m pretty smart,” he cracked a smile, “and I knew what I was getting myself into. Dating someone with such an unconventional job and schedule can be stressful, and frustrating, and confusing for everyone involved. But I chose it, Mat. I chose you.”

Dec. 21 (mon)

For once, Cass wasn’t headed straight home after work, or headed to a game, or — God forbid — back to the library to study. Her last final had been that morning, and she was free for three blessed weeks until the New Year. Which meant that she didn’t have to worry about turning in another essay or memorizing another case, which meant that she was more than free to go to the team Christmas party with Mat later that night. He had somehow been coerced into hosting, and Cass had promised to get to his apartment early to help set up. He was mostly done by the time she got there, so “setting up” turned out to mean setting up the bar and putting out snacks, Cass mixing up an enormous pitcher of her favorite sangria, a signature standby from her sorority’s Wine Wednesdays.

Mat had even put up a proper Christmas tree, and Cass smiled at the piney scent as she headed down the hallway, bag in hand. “Cool if I change in your room?” She shouted down the hall at Mat, who was currently engrossed in pouring a bowl full of chocolate-covered pretzels. “Yeah, go for it,” he called back. Cass didn’t have a lot of excuses to dress up, but liked taking advantage when the occasion called for it. Her dress was short, red satin with a slit on one side and silver embellishment on the other. She used his bathroom to touch up her makeup, swiping her burgundy lipstick on and double-checking her brows. Cass shoved her work clothes back into her backpack, tossing it onto the plush armchair in the corner of his room.

She walked down the hallway, which was pretty much bare save for a few pictures of his friends from home and one with his family on the day he was drafted. She was kind of surprised that Mat owned a single picture frame. Cass sat on the couch in his living room, looking at the Christmas tree. There were one or two Islanders ornaments, a paper Santa that she assumed had been a kindergarten art project, a photo of his family around the fireplace that looked like it had been taken a year or two earlier. Mat wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. “Whatcha looking at, babe?”

She smiled. “Your ornaments. They’re really pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.”

The door rang, Mat kissing her quickly before walking across the room to open it. A group of the younger players piled in, mostly rookies and call-ups from Bridgeport. One of them had brought along a keg of beer, and Cass had to fight back a laugh while showing him to the kitchen and setting it on the counter. He was just out of college, she’d stake her life on it. By the time she’d secured the keg and started getting people set up with drinks, the living room had started to fill up. “What can I get you?” She asked Paige, who had left Tito with the boys by the tree and made her way over to Cass.

“What are my chances of getting a Moscow mule?” Paige asked. “I don’t want to be a difficult guest, but,”

“Very good,” Cass said, turning around and grabbing the vodka and ginger ale. “We don’t have the proper mugs though, so don’t be complaining.” One shot of vodka. Half a can of ginger ale. Squeeze a lime. She had bartended for a little over a year when she first moved to New York, and it was still one of her favorite things to do for friends. Mixing herself a whiskey sour, Cass wandered back over to Mat and Tito.

---

It was well past eleven and the party was nowhere near stopping. While everyone was conscious of the noise level — for the most part, she had seen a few of the guys being reminded to use their inside voices — the conversations were still going and the drinks were still flowing. Cass had passed the tipsy point somewhere around 10:30, though she was nowhere near as hammered as some of the team. Or their dates, for that matter. She was cuddled up against Mat on the couch, heels long having since been abandoned and nursing what she was pretty sure was a vodka sprite with way too much vodka and way too little sprite. Whatever, Cass thought ruefully as she tipped the last of it back. It gets the job done.

Mat was a touchy drunk, Cass had learned, and one hand seemed to have taken up permanent residence at her waist while he sipped a beer with the other. “What do you think Christmas will be like for you?” Cass asked softly, tilting up her head to look at him. “Since you won’t be with your family.” Mat knew it was a possibility, but he was still pretty upset when he looked at the schedule and realized that his family wasn’t going to be able to fly out to spend the holidays with him, and he didn’t have enough time to go back out to Vancouver.

Her parents had extended the invitation for Mat to spend Christmas with them when she had been back up for Thanksgiving; he couldn’t make Christmas Day, but was able to carve out two days to visit. He smiled at her, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “You’re cute when you’re worried, y’know that?” Cass scrunched up her nose. “It’s not like I’m going to be alone. I’m doing Christmas with Beau, since Paige’ll be out of town too, and some of the guys usually plan a nice dinner thing for anyone who’s not with family.”

“That sounds nice,” Cass noted, still feeling a pang of guilt.

“Hey,” Mat said, noticing her distraction. He sat up, turning her face to look towards him. “I’ll be fine. I’m a grown-ass man.”

Cass cocked an eyebrow. “Sure about that?”

Mat giggled. “Okay, okay, fine. Point taken. But yeah, it would be nice to have my family, but I kind of do, y’know?” He said, nodding around to the guys. Cass could have sworn that in that moment, her heart melted. “And I want you to spend time with yours. I’d be kind of a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t want you to.” Mat leaned in, and his lips brushed against hers so that they were almost touching but not quite, hesitantly. Cass pressed against him, her fingers finding purchase in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. She loved that he was letting his hair grow out. He tasted like whiskey and tequila and some cheap beer that she was pretty sure was Natty Light, but she couldn’t have cared less, just like she ignored the not-so-subtle wolf-whistles from the teammates.

Everyone started clearing out around midnight, a few staying to help stuff cans and bottles into trash bags that were left unceremoniously in the kitchen to be dealt with the next morning. Cass yawned, rubbing her eyes. She had sobered up some, but was still well past the legal limit. “Whatcha doing?” Mat asked, seeing her about to order an Uber.

“Calling a ride?” Cass questioned.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Mat asked haltingly. “If you want.” Cass had obviously been over to his place before, multiple times, but hadn’t stayed the night yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, because she did, but it was something that was a big step for her. That meant a lot to her. But it was late, and she was sleepy, and Mat did make a really good pillow. “Okay,” she conceded.

Mat smiled, taking her hand and leading her back to his bedroom. He rummaged through his dresser, grabbing an old Thunderbirds t-shirt and athletic shorts and handing them to her as she walked into his ensuite. “I don’t have stuff to get your makeup off, but there is soap?” He offered.

Cass laughed. “I brought some wipes, but thank you. That’s really sweet.” She changed and took her makeup off, finding a spare toothbrush in one of the drawers and brushing her teeth. She popped out after a few minutes. Mat was already changed, dressed in pyjama pants and a comfy-looking heathered grey top. “The red toothbrush is mine now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, cracking a smile. A few minutes later, she had claimed the left side of the bed and he had come back from the bathroom. They were lazily kissing, Mat’s hand just barely brushing the skin on her waist from where the shirt had ridden up. Cass was still tipsy and she knew Mat wouldn’t try anything, not like this, but God, it was nice just to feel close to him. After a few minutes he pulled back, brushing a piece of hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the loose messy bun she had thrown together. “What’s running through your head, babe?” He murmured.

Cass looked down, biting her lip. She was usually good with emotions, good with communication, but something about Mat made her heart skip a beat and brain go into overdrive all at once, and somehow she was convinced that it was the best feeling in the world. “I’m just really happy right now,” she breathed. “It’s Christmas, with our friends, and you...It’s everything I could want.”

Mat gave the softest smile. “You, with me, right now? That’s all I could want, Cass.”

Dec 22. (wed)

Cass zipped her suitcase shut, double-checking that she had everything she’d need for her two weeks in Connecticut. It wasn’t a big deal if she forgot something, there was probably some stuff left in her old dresser, and her little sister Eliana was about the same size. Mat had just texted that he was almost there. Cass grabbed her backpack and suitcase, stopping for a moment to pop out the final few chocolates on the Advent calendar her mom had sent down. She closed her bedroom door, wishing a harried goodbye to Ryanne and Stella, and ambled down the stairs as fast as her bags would allow her. She didn’t want Mat to have to double-park and risk getting a ticket.

True to his word, Mat was just pulling up when she came out of the building, waving one hand and double-checking the street was clear before flipping his hazards on and hopping out to help her put her bags in the trunk. Kissing him on the cheek in thanks, Cass slid into the passenger’s side, giving Mat a very pointed look when she saw that the first song on his playlist was Justin Bieber. “Don’t make fun of me,” he mumbled, blushing.

“Who said I’m making fun of you?” Cass said lightly, trying and failing to hide her smile.

They had decided that Mat would make the drive, since he was only staying two nights they had figured it would make more sense. The directions had been plugged into the Bluetooth system, and they had just made it out of the city when Mat looked over at the passenger’s seat, furrowing his brow when he saw Cass’s expression. Something was bothering her. “What’s up, babe?”

She bit her lip. “Nothing.”

“C’mon, we both decided we weren’t going to do this anymore. You don’t have to tell me if you really don’t want to, but I think you want to talk.”

Cass looked down at her lap. “I got a letter from the company that’s handling my student loans.”

“I thought you didn’t have any debt?” Mat asked quizzically.

She let out a single, humorless laugh. “That was for undergrad, and that was only because I was really, really lucky. I got some money from the school and I worked some, but that only covered about half of my costs? A little less?”

“Which leaves you with how much?”

“A hundred and ten thousand dollars, give or take. They were sending me the payment schedule, I have to start paying it back late next year.”

Mat breathed out. He knew that Cass didn’t come from money, but being from Canada and not having gone to college himself, he wasn’t really aware of just how debilitating student debt could get. “Do your parents know?” He asked gently.

Cass picked at a loose thread on her scarf. “Yeah. They helped as much as they could, but there’s three of us and they’re not made of money. “I, uh,” she paused briefly, “I told you I went to private school, yeah?” Mat nodded. “Catholic school doesn’t come cheap, so I was actually on work-study at my high school, which helped a lot. But I hated it.”

“Your school?” He questioned.

She shook her head. “No, I loved my school. It was great. I just hated feeling like a charity case. My school’s in a pretty well-off neighborhood, so most of the families there had money, and some were like proper ‘old money’ New Englanders. I had some great friends and nobody ever really outwardly was an ass about it if they knew, but still…” She trailed off.

“You felt like you never quite fit in.” Mat finished.

She nodded. “It was hard and it sucked sometimes, but that’s just how it is, I guess,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Two hours later, Mat pulled into Manchester, following Cass’s directions down the winding roads and corners of her hometown. “Do you think they’ll like me?” He asked nervously, eyes flitting between Cass and the road in front of him.

Her brow furrowed. “Who? My family?” Mat nodded. “My family’s going to love you. You’re kind and you treat me with respect. That’s all they’ve ever wanted for me. And my brother already worships the ground you walk on, practically,” she added with a smile.

“He’s a junior, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she responded. Cass’s younger brother Noah was a junior in high school, and one of the best players on his club hockey team. Hockey didn’t run cheap and he had been lifeguarding the past few summers to pay for it, but it was all starting to pay off and he was having some interest shown by college scouts.

Mat pulled up beside the curb in front of her house, killing the engine and shoving the keys back into his pocket. Cass popped the trunk and took her backpack, while Mat got his duffel and her suitcase. She reached for his hand as they walked up the driveway, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she rang the doorbell.

“Cass!” Eliana squealed, hugging as much of her sister as she could manage around the bags. “Put your bags by the door, Dad’s grilling out back and I think Mom’s making your bed.” Mat had had an afternoon game and the two had left not long after, so it was dinnertime and Cass was ravenous. “Grilling in December?” She questioned.

Eliana shrugged, closing the door behind them. “You know Patrick, you go be the one to tell the man he can’t make burgers in the winter.” She turned to Mat, also greeting him with a hug. “You must be Mat, Cass talks about you a lot.”

Cass swatted her. “El!”

Mat chuckled. “Yeah. Mat Barzal, nice to meet you. Good things, I hope?”

“Only the best,” Eliana said, leading them through to the back porch, where her dad was grilling on the patio while Noah was doing sprints up and down the lawn. He almost fell when he spotted Cass and Mat, causing Mat to have to hide a laugh behind his hand. Her dad turned around, setting the spatula down when he saw them. Mat swallowed, sticking out his hand for a shake. “Mat Barzal, sir.”

“Call me Patrick. Good to meet you Mat, go get settled and we should have dinner ready in a few, okay?” Mat nodded. “Noah, pick your jaw up off the floor and go help them with their things, okay?” Noah ducked his head, brushing the dirt off his shorts before jogging over to where Mat and his sisters were on the porch.

“Do I hear my Cassidy?” Cass could hear her mom inside, walking down the hallway with Noah and Mat before she ran into her by her old bedroom. “It’s me, Mom!” Cass said excitedly, hugging her mom. Mat initially went for another handshake, but she shooed it away, embracing him. “We’re huggers in this family,” she said by way of explanation, pulling away after a moment. “Ysabel Cabrera, so nice to finally meet you, Mat.”

Mat smiled. “It’s great to finally meet you too.”

Ysabel pointed down the hall. “Noah’s got bunk beds, so you’ll be with him in there, it’s the last door on the left. Cass, I trust you still can find your room.”

“Yes, mamá,” Cass said, rolling her eyes. “See you in a few, chou.” He kissed her on the cheek, under the watchful eye of her mom, and followed Noah down the hall.

---

Two hour later, Mat and Cass were cuddled together on the living room couch, his arm slung around her as they half-watched reruns of Parks & Rec. “D’you just want to do presents now?” He asked, looking down at her. “Because I know we’ve got plans tomorrow, and I don’t see how it really matters if we’re not going to be together Christmas Day.”

Cass looked up. “Uh, sure, if you want?”

“Meet you back in a minute,” Mat said, hopping off of the couch and disappearing down the hall. Cass rolled her eyes, walking into her room, grabbing the envelope, and returning to the living room. Mat got up when she entered, proudly handing her a surprisingly well-wrapped present.

“You look very pleased with your work,” Cass noted, laughing.

“I watched a Youtube tutorial,” Mat admitted, “but did you know that there’s so much that goes into folding neat corners? It’s practically an art!”

“I’ll take you word for it,” Cass said, handing him his envelope. “Open yours first.”

Mat sat back down, running his thumb through the flap and pulling out a coupon. He looked at it quizzically for a minute. “Beer delivery?”

“Craft beer delivery,” Cass corrected pointedly. “Because I don’t want you to have to resort to Natty Light ever again. I saw your fridge, it’s actually the worst. You need taste, babe.” Mat snorted. “And they deliver to Canada, so you don’t have to worry about missing out on the offseason.”

“I love it, pretty girl,” Mat said, kissing her. “Now open yours.” Cass carefully popped the corners open, unfolding the wrapping paper. My Beloved World - Sonia Sotomayor. “You said once that you really admire her, and I didn’t see it on your bookshelf, so I thought you’d like it.”

“I do, I love it. I love that you remembered even more,” Cass added.

But Mat wasn’t done. “Open it,” he said expectantly.

Confused though she was, Cass opened the cover of the book. “It’s...signed? She said softly, reverently tracing her fingers over the inscription.

“Yeah.” Mat went on, explaining, “I found it in this little bookstore in Brooklyn, and knew I had to get it for you. Knew what it would mean to you.”

“It’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t believe you’d do something like that for me.”

Their foreheads touched. “Why wouldn’t I?” Mat whispered. “It’s for you.”

And in that moment, there was nothing anyone could do to take away how happy that made her feel. How happy he made her feel.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #nhl imagine #mat barzal imagine #hockey smut #mat barzal #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl imagines #nhl fluff #hockey imagines #hockey fluff #islanders imagines #islanders writing #new york islanders #islanders

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ampleappleamble · 4 years ago

Text

Pillars of Eternity: Anthem Infinitum: Chapter 8: Cleaning House

Just in case you don’t/can’t go to AO3 for whatever reason but wanna read chapter 8, or if you missed it the first time around, or whatever. I also did a very small amount of clean-up editing since first publish.

Now to start on chapter 9! *looks at blank document labelled Chapter 9 Notes*

---

"Wael's eyes, man, slow down. It's midmorning yet!"

Axa got up on the tips of her toes and leaned over to pluck the bottle from the old man's surprisingly strong grip, her headache intensifying as she caught a whiff of his rancid breath. She had been mostly joking when she ordered Kana to bring out the wine for their guest, but once she'd seen the delight in the poor old salt's face, the sparkle in his eyes when presented with goblet and bottle-- well, how could she refuse?

She glared at the aumaua now, clutching her last bottle of pomegranate wine, barely a quarter full after the old man's assault. Kana winced apologetically at her, but the little woman only smiled wryly and shrugged. It was as much her own fault as it was his, and she knew it.

The old man laughed good-naturedly, revealing a mouth only half full of teeth, and toasted his hostess with his borrowed goblet. "Early it may be, m'lady," he rasped, a strange sailor's brogue coloring his Aedyran, "bu' this elt lad dosnae rest. An' Magran help us, nei'r dae th' thirst." The old man sloshed the wine in his cup as he spoke, slopping it over the lip and onto the dusty stone floor more than once, before smacking his lips and merrily sucking down what remained inside.

As she had predicted, the night had not gone easily for the newly minted Watcher of Caed Nua. What little sleep she'd managed to get had been plagued by nightmares about books and machines, promises and betrayals, adra and copper and blood. And when sleep had failed her, she'd squirmed in her bedroll, tossing and turning and sweating and groaning. And thinking-- lots of thinking.

But in spite of it all-- perhaps, in fact, because of her sleeplessness-- her awareness felt bizarrely heightened. It reminded her of her all-night research sessions in her old college life: standing there practically vibrating from murkbrew and nervous energy, feeling simultaneously like she was strong enough to lift a horse over her head and like she was about to collapse. Scrutinizing the drunken old salt, she squinted resolutely against her headache, determined not to let anything escape her notice.

Axa saw the gnarled fingers, knotted with age, and she watched the unsteady, drunken gesticulations that spilled her favorite wine onto the cobwebs and mouse shit that decorated her Great Hall. But she also saw that the hand itself was steady: not tremulous, but strong and sure. The half-lidded, drink-addled eyes took a while to fully focus, but once he managed to fix his gaze on hers, she could see a remarkably fierce little twinkle in his mischievous eyes.

"Engrim, you said your name is?"

"Pretty much everyone calls him Eld Engrim," Edér drawled, leaning against a stone pillar while fiddling with his pipe. "He's from around here somewhere, but he tends t' spend most of his time on the sea. Or in whichever tavern's nearest. Probably came in from Anslog's Compass lookin' for a little shore leave, ended up owin' someone a favor and havin' to hoof it all the way out here for 'em." Despite the content of his introduction, the farmer spoke with fondness, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled warmly at the old man. "That sound about right, Eld Engrim?"

The old sailor cackled and nodded, clutching his empty goblet in front of himself with both hands like a talisman. "Aye, laddie, ye've got me fairly figured! Masons in yer Vale promised me a fine bottle o' spirits should I answer 'em this missive from oul' Caed Nua, abandoned all these long years. Although, ye did neglect t' address me Mistress, heathen that ye be, She whose spark 'n flame lit me way here!" He winked obnoxiously and wagged a crooked finger at the Eothasian, like a grandfather teasingly scolding his grandson.

Axa had not missed the telltale signs of a Magranite priest. The smell, in particular, of singed hair and arcane flame had tipped her off.

"You didn't think the priesthood of Ondra might suit you better?" Aloth's lip curled with disgust as he regarded the man, glaring at him over the edge of his grimoire. He had been broody all morning, Axa had noticed, and the elf seemed particularly irritated by the old lush.

"Not if he's a cannoneer," Kana suggested. "I can see where you might get Ondra-- the sea, drink and forgetfulness, those common themes-- but many who work with munitions, and especially ships, keep a Magranite priest on their payroll for their beneficial healing magic as well as for their blessings on and expertise with explosives." He grinned toothily at the elf, beaming with intellectual pride.

Aloth twitched, then spoke in a calm, low voice behind his gritted teeth. "If that's the case, why is he here running errands for stonemasons in Gilded Vale instead of mumbling over a double bronzer or something somewhere out on the sea?"

Axa turned her attention to her guest. "Good question, actually. Maybe you'd care to tell me a bit more about yourself while we make our way back to Gilded Vale, Engrim?"

The old man's eyes bugged out of his head, flicking back and forth between the orlan and his empty goblet. "Och, young miss, ye cannae mean t' be gettin' t' Gilded Vale now! 'Tis a day's sojourn, an' rovin' bands o' bandits roam o'er th' roads, Magran bash 'n burn 'em! An' 'ave only just arrived, me!" He looked around at her companions' faces, groping wildly for support, and found only pity and scorn for this man foolish enough to think to argue with her.

"He... does speak true, my lady." The Steward's voice rang out gently from the halls of the old keep. "No guard patrols have been dispatched along Caed Nua's surrounding roads since old Maerwald's decline into madness, and the paths surrounding the estate have been infested with brigands and monsters alike." As her voice faded, a soft little blanket of sadness settled over the gathered kith like a light dusting of snow.

Axa shuddered. "All the more reason, then, to get going. For better or worse, this keep is mine now, my responsibility." She paused, vaguely unnerved as she perceived the Steward's blush of surprise, followed closely by a soft, tentative gratitude. "The only people I can count on to restore my barbican are not, apparently, ready to take me seriously, so it seems I must issue my orders face to face. And I need this barbican restored. Unless, of course, Aedelwan Bridge is no longer flooded?"

Engrim shrugged, fiddled with the stem of his goblet, shuffled his feet. "Nae, no, 'tis... 'tis nae flooded..."

"It's destroyed," Kana chirped. "Ondra's mighty fist at work! I learned from a traveling hunter just the other day. The Dyrwood can't seem to steer clear of the gods' wrath, can--"

"We're going to Gilded Vale, today. Right now." Axa paused, hand on her hip, and then downed the remainder of her wine, time of day notwithstanding. She almost flung the empty bottle to the floor in a fit of pique, but then remembered the Steward, and quickly tamped down her temper. "...I want this barbican fixed. I want to get to Defiance Bay. By the Wheel, if the only way to get it done is to do it myself, I will."

No one could argue with that.

---

It was a satisfying sound, the scuffle of boots and the shouts of workers. Especially, Axa thought, when you know they're going to work for you. Although she knew the work couldn't begin for another day or two, Axa still felt a distinct sense of accomplishment as she strode out of the Hound, listening to the masons hustling behind her.

"Well, considerin' how drunk they all were, I'm surprised that went as well as it did." Edér clapped the little woman on the shoulder, grinning broadly and chewing gently on the stem of his pipe.

Aloth's voice drifted to her over her opposite shoulder. "Indeed, especially after the third time they addressed their questions to Edér and not to you, despite your repeated and... exponentially sonorous objections."

"Let it be known that the new Lady of Caed Nua does not suffer fools gladly," Kana proclaimed. "Although, speaking of fools... I can't help but notice the sun is setting, Caed Nua is almost a full day's hike away, and we're... leaving the inn?"

Axa smiled. "Remember we met Aufra on our way in? I offered to stay with her tonight, cook her some dinner, keep her company. I trust none of you object?"

No one did. She paused, and when she spoke again, she was much more subdued, almost somber.

"Last time I saw her, I was telling her her potion was horseshit and the fate of her unborn babe's soul was up to the caprices of the gods. Least I can do now is put my money where my mouth is and be the good neighbor that girl needs right now."

They walked in silence for a short stretch.

"If I'm bein' honest-- and I actually am, sometimes-- I been noticin' a lotta changes around here since we got back. Lot more smilin' people in the streets." Edér strolled up beside Axa, his blond whiskers quirking up with his grin. "Wasn't like that before you showed up. ...'Course, there is still that tree fulla dead bodies in the center of town..."

Kana winced. "Yes, I was wondering about that--"

"It's a long and gruesome tale." The man in the green cloak stepped out into the road, and Axa stopped dead in her tracks, placing herself between the stranger and her companions. "But I'd tell it, if you'd listen. You and the good Lady both."

"Kolsc." Edér whispered, surprised, but not angry. Axa's gaze flicked up to the stranger's face as he limped closer.

---

"...Did I fuck this up?"

Edér looked up from his whittling, focusing his good eye on the little woman. The other eye was still swollen shut, shiny and painful from their fight against his late Lord, but with some rest and the help of Raedric's priests-- Kolsc's priests, now-- he and the rest of his friends would be good as new for the trek back to Caed Nua tomorrow.

"Ain't too many ways I can think of to fuck up killin' a terrible murderin' bastard like Raedric," he mumbled around his mouthful of smoke, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Unless y' think we didn't kill him enough, or somethin'."

Axa's lips smiled, but the rest of her face did not follow suit. Her party was spending the night in a corner of the Berathian priests' sleeping quarters in Raedric's sanctuary, and she sat on her borrowed bed gently rocking to and fro, her knees drawn up to her chest, her sharp little nails worrying tiny holes in her trousers.

"The Legacy makes men mad. Perhaps it does worse to women. I do not know." Raedric had looked Axa over, then, had glanced toward his bedchamber where his own wife lay dead in their marital bed--

"No, we killed him exactly the right amount, I think." The smile was already gone, soundly quashed by the ugly memory. "I just... feel like I may have acted in haste here. Like there's something I'm missing about all this that's going to bite me in the ass later, when I least expect it." She pressed her chin into her knees, curling up as tightly into herself as she could.

--if i make myself small enough i can just hide away from all this and no one will see me--

Kana chuckled, idly leafing through a massive tome that dwarfed even his sizable lap as he reclined in the worn armchair next to Axa's bed. "Yes, it is a rough sea, the world of the ruling class! So many nerve-wracking social calculations to make, always looking over one's shoulder... The political alliances to take into account, then the family alliances, the religious affiliations... But even the Ranga Nui himself and his own son are at ideological odds! And if you're discovered as a fair-weather friend, paying lip service to either or both--"

"I think," Aloth interrupted, "perhaps, that you've made your point, Kana." The elf was just as irritable now as he had been the morning that old drunk had showed up at Caed Nua, and his half-healed broken rib was not helping to improve his mood.

And now the in-fighting begins in the esteemed Lady of Caed Nua's exclusive inner circle. Axa felt her guts redouble their efforts to destroy themselves, anxiety churning inside her like acid. "Gods, I'm ill-suited for this politicking horseshit. Why did I think I could do this? I'm Ixamitec, we don't... nobody 'owns' land, that's not how--"

"Oh, don't get me wrong!" Kana pressed on, seemingly oblivious to Aloth's peevish attitude. "Just as hard lands forge strong people, rough seas often yield great rewards. For instance, when we return to Caed Nua on the morrow, we can look forward to seeing your Brighthollow manse restored to its former beauty and prestige! Well, in part, anyway. All because of your actions here today and Kolsc's gratitude!"

"And even if you weren't gettin' somethin' out of it," Edér added, "you're the kinda lady can't rest without knowing you did the best thing y' could. Point being, y' had to do something, long-term consequences be damned. And like I said earlier, if y' have to do something, it's hard to go wrong with killing a mass-murdering shitheel like Raedric. No matter how bad Kolsc might turn out to be, better him than what we had goin' on before." He casually brushed the wood shavings from his lap, either ignoring or unaware of the annoyed glares and whispers from the priests in the room.

Axa glanced across the room at Aloth, who simply lay on his back in his bed in the corner, eyes screwed shut, his grimoire too heavy to hold in his lap without irritating his wounds. "Maybe," she sighed, lifting her head from her knees, "I should just hire on an advisor. Someone who actually knows what they're doing, to help me navigate these choppy waters." Her gaze flicked to Kana, a wicked little grin popping up on her face. "You know anyone who needs a job?"

The aumaua laughed, a thunderous noise that filled the small room. "Everyone I know is either in this room or in Rauatai, my friend! But I take your meaning. However, my own experience with the gentry is limited to the court of the Ranga Nui, a profoundly different environment from the one in which you find yourself, so I'm afraid I'd be more of a hindrance than a boon. And--" He glanced over at Edér, his smile half apologetic and half cheeky-- "I hope he'll forgive me for saying so, but our Edér doesn't seem like the sort to hobnob with the nobility."

The folk man snorted. "What tipped y' off?"

"That leaves you, Aloth," Kana continued, smiling in the elf's direction. "If I recall, you were raised among the gentry in Aedyr, were you not? That's a bit closer to the political system and aristocratic power structure here; any insight you have into that world would surely be invaluable to our Watcher. You're qualified, intelligent, you're clearly quite learned, you're... capable in battle. Why, you even came to the Dyrwood with the express purpose of finding a patron!" He was getting excited now, leaning forward in his seat, gesticulating passionately. "And here she is! What marvelous serendipity!"

Axa couldn't help but be charmed by Kana's enthusiasm, and she appreciated his effort to lift the wizard's spirits. "That's not a bad idea, actually. What say, Aloth?" She couldn't see his face from where he lay, but she could see his ears were bright red.

Not a fan of being the center of attention, I see. She felt a sudden surge of sympathy and warmth towards the man, and found her own ears reddening soon thereafter.

"I wouldn't take the gig 'f I were you. She can't even pay you, 's what I heard." Edér winked at her, taking his attention away from his whittling for just a second, then hissed with pain and surprise as his knife slipped.

Kana shook his head, his grin as wide as ever as he regarded the farmer with pity. "O, poor man! He who thinks coin is the sole and lone benefit of working for a prestigious, powerful woman like our Watcher! The true rewards of such a vocation are not in material wealth, my friend, but in the challenge! Rebuilding the glorious Caed Nua from the crumbling ruins... The intrigue of the political world of the Dyrwood... the tension, the drama... not to mention the treasure trove of ancient Engwithan secrets just waiting to be discovered in the Endless Paths!" He sighed like a lovestruck maiden telling her friends of her handsome beau. "Ah! I'm so envious. Were I more well-suited to the position, I'd have accepted her first offer in an instant! As it is, it seems I'll have to settle for hired muscle. Either way, I couldn't ask for a finer directress!" Now Axa's entire face was getting warm, and she found herself unable to look at Kana, although she could feel his eyes on her, his smile, warming her like gentle spring sunlight.

"Aye, I wager ye'd leap at a position 'neath 'er, slick-a-britches."

Aloth very quickly clapped a hand over his open mouth-- the loud pop! filling the little room-- and then came the long, shuddering groan of pain muffled behind his fingers, the sudden movement having yanked at his sore ribs.

Axa immediately flopped over onto her side, laughing like Hel, unable and unwilling to stop herself. Edér's eyebrows leapt up his forehead, surprise and delight clear on his face, chuckling through his nose due to the wounded thumb in his mouth.

"...She seems impressed. I think you've got the job, my friend!" Kana quipped, flipping to a new page in his gigantic book. He paused, considering, and then leaned forward in his seat, cocking his head with curiosity. "...Did you say 'slick-a-britches'?"

"No. I didn't. I said nothing." The elf's voice was quiet and short and clipped. "I'm in immense pain and I'm speaking complete and utter idiotic meaningless nonsense. ...Can we please talk about anything else." Axa was still giggling, tip of her tongue sticking out between her front teeth. He squirmed with embarrassment, and it hurt.

"As you say. How about this animancy research?" The scholar lifted the huge tome on his lap, tilting it up to show Edér as he crossed the room to wash and wrap his thumb. "I'm no animancer, to be sure, but from what little I've managed to decipher from Osyra's records, she may have been onto something!"

Aloth bristled, his breath hitching in his chest as he exhaled a bit too sharply. He had said 'anything else,' hadn't he. "All any animancer has accomplished, at the very best, is to swell their own ego and their own coinpurse. In particular, Osrya was a dangerous, insane monster who mutated kith into abominations. I have no interest whatsoever in reading anything that woman may have seen fit to record."

Anyone else would take the man's curt tone and disparaging language as the opposite of an invitation to continue. Kana continued with renewed gusto, "But if what Osrya posits is true-- and as far as I can tell, her methods are logically sound, if not morally-- why, then this may just provide the solution to the Legacy that the Dyrwood has been searching for these long years!"

Axa had stopped laughing a while back, but only now did she sit back up. She remembered the animancer's words, recited them aloud with an accuracy she would not ordinarily expect from herself--

"It must be a localized effect. Something which strips the soul from a body, as the bîaŵacs are known to do. I have detected, even so, lingering traces of essence upon the bodies of so-called Hollowborn. This suggests that the soul itself has not been wholly destroyed. It remains, I think, intact somewhere."

Everyone-- even Aloth, lifting his head from his pillows-- looked at her, dumbstruck. The few priests remaining in the room hurriedly shuffled out, angrily whispering prayers to ward their souls against blasphemy.

"Um." She coughed, suddenly uncomfortably self-conscious. "That was... what she had to say, anyway. Before we had to kill her. ...If I'm remembering correctly."

"That's... what's in here, more or less, yes," Kana blurted, his ever-present grin tinged with nervousness as he shut the enormous book.

"So, what," Edér drawled, squinting at his half-finished carving as he turned it this way and that, "Hollowborn got a soul, but... somethin' or, or someone takes it from 'em soon as they're born?" He furrowed his brow, frowned at a blotch of red on the misshapen wooden thing in his hand. "And... what, hides 'em somewhere? Eats 'em? Why?"

"That would depend, it seems, on who or what is manipulating the souls, I would think." Kana actually frowned, now, staring blankly into the book. "Although I'd be hard-pressed to identify a creature capable of manipulating souls on this grand a scale, for this long, with this much apparent ease and consistency... short of, perhaps, a god." He glanced furtively at Edér, holding up his huge hands in deference. "Not that I'm attempting to implicate any particular deity..."

The farmer shook his head slowly, eyes shut tight with conviction. "Don't worry about me thinkin' that. Like I said before-- I can't and won't believe that Eothas was the kinda god would do somethin' like this."

"Do you believe, then, as some in your country do, that the recent prevalence of animancy is to blame?" The scholar was fumbling for a bit of charcoal, now, eager to take notes. "Keep in mind, the Vailian Republics has not suffered a similar Hollowing despite being the leading animancy practitioners on Eora--"

"Whether the recent uptick in animancy has caused the Legacy by inviting the ire of the gods is nigh impossible to know, and thus pointless to discuss," Aloth interjected, "although I certainly wouldn't put it past many of the gods to come up with a bizarre, horrific punishment like the Legacy in retribution for any slight from us kith, real or perceived.” He glanced balefully at the door the Berathians had shut behind them as they’d left. “What can be meritoriously discussed is what to do about the unbridled, barely educated charlatans taking advantage of a terrified and exhausted populace, using the Hollowborn crisis to feed their sick curiosity and their pocketbooks both. That is the everyday reality of animancy that must be dealt with in the Dyrwood, for the good of the citizenry." He winced in pain, his impassioned argument a bit too much for his battered body. "...Ahem. In my opinion."

"I don't think I know enough about any of it to have much of an opinion about it, bein' honest." Edér scratched the back of his neck, squinting in confusion as Kana eagerly copied down the conversation, his attention ping-ponging excitedly between each successive speaker. "I feel like that whole world is way, way beyond my ken. Might have to leave the thinkin’ to you on that, Boss Lady." He smiled over at the orlan, glad to see her relaxing and engaging with other kith instead of clutching her knees and staring into the middle distance. He'd seen enough of that during the Saint's War. "...Although some of 'em are tryin' to do somethin' about the Legacy, at least. I guess. This animancer was a crazy piece of shit, but she's also the only animancer I ever really chatted with, 's far's I know. So I don't really got a lot to go on. Y'know?"

"Caldara was sweet, and extremely helpful." Axa felt an odd little tug of nostalgia at the memory of the dwarf, her warm, motherly smile. "Of course, she was also dead when I met her. So you'll kind of have to take my word for it. That said, ultimately I have to agree with you, Edér: I don't know enough about animancy to pass any sort of judgment on it just yet. It seems potentially useful, perhaps even miraculously so, but also extremely volatile and dangerous." The little woman paused, stretching her sore limbs, and then laid back down on the bed with a long, cathartic sigh. "Perhaps once we reach Defiance Bay, we can get a clearer picture of what the day-to-day animancy trade is really like. Until then, I must, in good conscience, reserve all judgment on the subject."

"A wise and prudent choice, but indecision is a heavy burden. Never let it be said that our Watcher takes the easy way out!" Kana rose from his seat as he spoke, seeing that the orlan was getting ready to settle in for the night, and crossed the room to his loaner bed. "Speaking of hardships, I've heard tell that the poor weather over the last few days may have delayed the work on Caed Nua's eastern barbican. If, once we return, we find that to be the case... and if you're amenable to a bit of dungeon crawling after all this fresh air and sunshine..."

Axa half-groaned and half-laughed, like a good-natured mother finally losing patience with her annoying toddler. "Yes, Kana, I promise we will explore the Endless Paths. I already promised you before, too, remember?"

"Forgive me!" Kana chuckled as he reclined, his feet dangling over the edge of the too-small bed. "I don't mean to wheedle you, rest assured. But once I get an idea in my head, I tend to focus on it so intently as to neglect politesse!"

"We've noticed," Aloth grumbled.

The massive aumaua turned to Aloth in the bed next to his, smiling still. "That reminds me-- I've never heard that one before, 'slick-a-britches'. Did you mean to say I slicken others' breeches-- or britches, as you say-- or did you mean my own breeches are slick? As in, ah, lubricated for easier removal?” The giant snickered like a naughty schoolboy telling dirty jokes after dark in the dormitory. “Ondra’s jowls, I didn't even know you spoke Hylspeak! You must teach me some!" He wore no malice on his face, only open, honest joy and wonder-- and for some reason that bothered Aloth more than if the aumaua had been displaying naked hostility.

Axa cackled maniacally in her bed, thrashing her limbs and rolling about. In lieu of responding, Aloth slowly, deliberately pulled his coverlet up over his chin, then his nose, then his brow. His facial expression did not change.

---

It was a lovely sound, the sound of carpenters and masons plying their trades. Engrim found they sounded even lovelier with a drink in his hand and cool shade under his arse, so that's how he had elected to enjoy the afternoon while he supervised the renovations.

Now that the storm clouds had finally shoved off-- and the Little Mistress was back home with her companions, mucking about in that endless dungeon of hers-- the crew was hard at work clearing the last of the rubble and overgrown foliage from the eastern barbican's arched gateway and portcullis. By tomorrow evening, at long last, Caed Nua would have a beautifully restored barbican, allowing access to the Woodend Plains and Defiance Bay beyond. And in the meantime, Brighthollow was bustling with carpenters and porters, bringing freshly cut lumber and large, fine beds and bolts of cloth and rugs. Prettying up the Great Hall, restoring the barracks, hiring guards and posting patrols-- the fuzzy little thaynu and her stone steward had a plan for this place, and that meant that these laborers could look forward to quite a few more of these jobs and their generous pay.

Engrim smiled his gap-toothed smile, swirling his tankard of cider. It had been a gift for the Little Mistress, sent by a brewery newly under Kolsc's protection, and she had kindly opted to disperse it among the work crews before she and her party had descended into the depths under the castle.

Could get used tae this, me. If Ye'd allow fer a wee bit o' idleness, O Magran. Engrim chuckled to himself. He knew he ought to know better at his age than to press his luck with his goddess, but he just couldn't help himself, sometimes.

It took him a while to realize where the sound was coming from, because he wasn't expecting it to be behind him-- after all, he'd specifically chosen to sit in a place where he could keep an eye on all the work that he was supposed to be helping with. But then Engrim heard the scraping and scratching on the eastern side of the ruined chapel, heard the muffled shouts and the banging of fists against solid wood, and he scrambled to his feet, stumbling as quickly as his skinny old legs would carry him. He'd had to help dispatch some of the beasties and spirits that had managed to wander up from the depths of the Endless Paths once or twice already, but they'd always crawled up from the dungeons, inside the keep. That these old bulkhead doors were connected to anywhere, let alone to the Paths, hadn't occurred to anyone.

Until now. Engrim squared his shoulders and planted his feet, readied his staff, whispered a prayer to the Lady of Battle. Waited and watched as the heavy wooden doors shook with the force of a mighty blow from within.

Thump. "Harder, damn it! Or, no, wait-- is there a mechanism holding it shut? Give him some light, Aloth!"

The old priest felt his eyes bug out of his head. 'Tis 'erself! The Little Mistress' voice was unmistakable.

"Certainly, just a moment, please..." And the sound of her elf lad kissing her arse all but confirmed it. Engrim rushed forward, dropping to his rickety old knees in front of the doors, his hands scrabbling at the weathered, graying wood.

"Watcher! Mistress!"

Shocked silence hung in the air for a moment, then: "Engrim!? Thank the gods! ...We have reached the surface!"

"There is a mechanism," her aumaua rumbled, his voice thunderous even behind the thick doors. "A... surprisingly simple one, actually. If I had some light--"

"I said I'm working on it," Aloth snapped, and a moment later the cracks in the doors lit up from within. Engrim squinted against the glare, laid his hands on the twisting, smothering ivy and the dried-up, half-dead rose bushes choking the splintering planks. He furrowed his wrinkled brow, concentrated, began to burn the vegetation away with a care and precision that betrayed his years and level of sobriety.

And before long, the doors were flung wide for the first time in hundreds of years, and the Watcher of Caed Nua and her loyal allies emerged from the Endless Paths.

"Engrim, please tend to Edér; he needs healing badly." Kana gently lowered the farmer to the ground, his blond hair streaked brownish-red with blood, head rolling loose on his shoulders, and Engrim rushed to meet him with a powerful restorative blessing on his boozey breath.

"By the ricketin' Wheel, yer lot's flame's lookin' half-snuffed yerselves!" In truth, all four of them were bleeding and bruised, clutching at their various wounds and limping, although Edér was easily the worst off of the lot. "What in Hel did ye find doon in them depths?"

"Ogres. There were crazed, violent ogres," Axa rasped. "And looters who attacked us on sight. And a tribe of xaurips. And their drake." She glared at Kana, anger smoldering. "And you wanted to press on?"

No one present had ever heard Kana speak so softly. "I-- I only remarked on the changing architecture, I didn't mean to imply we ought--"

"Spirits, too. Ghosts only I could see, only I could hear." The little woman carried on, her voice rising steadily in pitch and volume. "A pool of blood and viscera. Ancient catacombs full of giant insects and... and animated corpses. And an enormous adra-and-copper statue of a man."

"Or at least th' head," Edér mumbled, now fully conscious again though still bloodied and reeling. "Copper mustache. Heh."

Axa was at his side in an instant, kneeling next to the farmer, taking one calloused hand in between her own. "Don't speak, Edér. Save your strength."

"...'M not that bad, am I?" He managed a weak smile, tried to look at her eyes, but couldn't seem to get his vision to focus. Multiple images of the orlan danced and swam in front of him, and he found that the more he tried to get one of her to stand still, the harder it became to concentrate on staying awake.

Looking at him in full light, Axa felt her stomach drop: his dilated pupils, his unfocused gaze. He's definitely concussed. Gods, we're lucky we found that Master Staircase when we did. "Perhaps," she smiled softly, "I'm being a little hyperbolic. You just look half dead, is all."

The farmer huffed a short, sharp laugh as he let his eyes slide shut. "Work that charm on me, Watcher."

"Kana." Her ire toward the aumaua had receded, but not entirely, and her sharp tone reflected it. "Help Engrim get Edér inside. Stay with him and keep him talking. I'm... I think I have to stay out here for a bit. I kind of need to see the sky right now."

The huge man tried to smile at Axa but found the attempt futile, turning to her only to see her lying on her back in the grass, staring listlessly into the zenith. So he smiled at Edér instead, gently lifting the man by his armpits and guiding him toward Brighthollow, Engrim loping alongside.

He watched them go, and once he was sure they were alone, Aloth slowly, cautiously drew up beside the prone woman. He knelt, rolled his ankle, stumbled, recovered, decided to sit on the ground instead.

"Axa, are you... are you going to be alright?" He winced. What an insightful, intelligent question to ask, Corfiser; my, you're good at this--

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" she croaked, although the sharpness that was in her voice for Kana was replaced with a gentler tone for Aloth. He noticed, and the resulting burst of self-satisfaction tinged with guilt made him think of his school days, his teachers who played favorites, how he feared them and craved their approval both.

She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm-- I'll apologize to Kana later, too, I'm just... tired right now. Scared." She tried to smile, grimaced instead. "Cranky."

"Well--" Aloth twisted his fingers together into tight, trembling knots of knuckles and sweat-- "Well. You've been under some... significant stress as of late, it's true, but I can't help but notice you sometimes... struggling. S-seeming to have some difficulty coping." He glanced from his hands in his lap to the ground to his hands to the woman on the ground. "I... I just want to make sure that you're alright to... continue this."

Axa sighed as deeply as her little lungs would allow, her half-lidded eyes still fixed on the heavens. "I don't know," she said at last. "I don't even really know what this is, this... new path I'm on. By the Visions, two weeks ago I was living an entirely different life! Now I'm a Watcher, a member of the Dyrwoodan gentry, I'm Awakened..."

"You've a lot on your plate, to be certain," he murmured, hoping he came off as compassionate and not dismissive. He scooted along the ground as delicately as any kith could scoot, until he was sitting alongside the woman. They still had a decent amount of distance between them, but at least now he could see her face. She did not look at him.

"I feel like I don't... know who I am, anymore." Her usually robust, confident voice quavered. "Like this is someone else's life in which I've had to take up residence. None of this feels like it's truly mine, but it definitely feels like it's all my responsibility. None of which I ever, ever asked for."

"Aye, I conne the feelin', lass." Aloth felt the words slip out, and then immediately regretted allowing them to, grimacing and squeezing his eyes shut.

When he opened them again, Axa was sitting up. "You can't help it, can you."

His heart, his stomach, his brain-- all felt as though they'd suddenly been submerged in ice water, and as she turned to him with her piercing fuchsia gaze, he half expected her to simply state aloud all of his deceptions and treacheries like some Woedican judge, her Watcher abilities having allowed her to see through all of his pitiful excuses and flimsy lies.

But instead of anger or accusation or judgment, what he saw in her eyes was... relief, almost. Wonder. "The Hylspeak. You can't help it. That's why you keep doing it, even when I've asked you to quit. Or when it's gotten you in trouble. That's why you want to go to Defiance Bay with me. With us. To find someone who can help you stop. Isn't it?"

"I-- I don't-- I was just trying to--" He sputtered and stammered, subconsciously drawing his limbs in close to his torso in an anxious, defensive hunch. He wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. He was caught, it seemed, but... not? Somehow? He fidgeted and trembled and averted his eyes from hers, unable to bear the little woman's gaze, her sad little smile as she rose to her feet and stood next to him.

And he jumped, much to his chagrin, when he felt her hand on his back. "Aloth. You can trust me. I want you to trust me. And you don't have to explain anything to me. We all have our reasons for... keeping certain things to ourselves." She gave him a knowing smile. "However, it seems that the skeletons in your closet are a bit... louder than most others'?"

He knew, of course, what she was really trying to say. How long did you think you could keep it a secret from me? I'm not stupid, and you're not exactly subtle. "It's... a problem I've had since I was a child." He sighed shakily, sagging with fatigue as he shrugged off this small portion of his heavy burden at last. "And in Aedyr, it's not the kind of thing you take your child to a healer about. Not unless you want him institutionalized... or worse."

Axa gave him a hard look, as though he had set the policy in place himself. "I see. That explains why you came to the Dyrwood for a cure." She perked up abruptly as a thought struck her. "...You know, it's a rather gratifying feeling, figuring all this out about you. It explains so much!" She smiled again, and he found himself feeling annoyed and charmed simultaneously. He'd expected either pity or disgust, and when he got curiosity instead, he felt oddly slighted. I'm not a puzzle to be solved...!

A lascivious chortle. 'She gettin' ye all fired oop, laddie?'

He shut his eyes again, curled himself up tightly. "Axa, while I am grateful for your patience with me, and your understanding regarding my... condition, I would truly appreciate it if we could keep this between the two of us. I'm... it's been a long, long time since I've really talked about this with anybody, and I don't think I'm quite ready for a full roundtable discussion regarding my mental health just yet." He glared in the direction of Brighthollow. "Not with those two, anyway. And not anymore, at all, today. Please."

"I had a feeling you were starting to reach your limit of how much you're willing to talk about it." She relented finally, lifting her little hand from between his shoulders, and he felt the weight of her scrutiny lift off of him as well. "And I'm reaching my limit of how much time I'm willing to waste feeling sorry for myself on the lawn. Come, let's get inside, get our wounds tended, check up on Edér. We'll take a day and a half to rest up and get ready, let them finish working on the barbican. Then we'll set off for the city."

Aloth rose to his feet, brushed dirt and grass from his trousers. "In my official capacity as your advisor, I wholeheartedly approve your plan, my Lady." She scoffed, laughing, and he didn't try to suppress his victorious grin. "And... upon arriving?"

She started off toward her busy little manse, the carpenters and masons gawking at the bloody, dirty little orlan with alarm. "I'll know what to do when I get there, I'm sure," she called out to the elf over her shoulder.

He sighed, picking up the pace in an effort to catch up with her. "I was afraid you'd say that."

---

"I'll know when I get there, he says," the little woman muttered to herself, leaning against the old signpost, thumbing through her bag of bone arrowheads. "Yeah. I'm sure. ...When am I gonna learn, Itumaak?"

The fox yawned in response, licked his snowy chops, and Sagani heaved a weary sigh. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to make camp.

The sun was staring to set, and the cooling air brought a refreshing breeze to the little hunter's brow. And in the wind came not only respite from the heat, but information-- smells of nature, smells of kith. Sagani could smell new rain clouds already queueing up, eager to take the place of the last ones that had just departed, but hopefully not so eager as to open up on her tonight. She could not smell any other campfires nearby, so she figured she had a halfway decent chance of getting a good night's rest undisturbed by surprise guests. She was about to say something to Itumaak, head off the road in search of a quiet spot to set up, when she looked down at him--

-- and found him standing at alert, his head cocked to the side just so, ears pricked. Sagani listened, her breath completely still in her chest.

"A bear? You were whittling a bear? I thought it was a horse!" She'd only ever heard a voice that deep and booming on an aumaua man before, and the Rauataian accent all but confirmed it.

"You ever seen a horse before?" This was a different voice, not as throaty, but still definitely an adult man, a Dyrwoodan. Sagani reached slowly for her pack, not sure yet whether to grab the adra carving or an arrow.

"Whatever it was-- is-- we'll pick it back up the next time we head down there. With some hirelings, Kana." A woman's voice now, bold and clear. Sagani found the adra carving in her hand when she drew it back to her fore, and she gazed into it.

Cold and dead. Just like always, these past few months.

"Please tell me we're not going back down into that gods-cursed dungeon solely for a half-finished wooden carving of a bear..." Sagani almost didn't hear the Aedyran, she was so disappointed by her poor fortune, but the comically coincidental "carving of a bear" comment made her at least lift her head to regard the group of kith approaching her. Itumaak was bored and anxious, and he fidgeted and whined at Sagani's hip, looking up at her with his big black eyes.

The huntress sighed as she watched the little party notice her. More friendly travellers, I'm certain. Let's just get this little introduction over with.

"Relax, Itumaak. It's not him."

---

#pillars of eternity #poe anthem infinitum #next chapter: ?????????? uhhh

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wormstacheangel · 4 years ago

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Since your last post implied it I would love to know about your AU recommendations ❤ I am obsessed too!! Thanks in advance 🙏🏻

hello! I hope you don’t mind if I just make a basic list of some of the AU stories I have read or want to read. Not in any order I just went through my bookmarks on AO3 :) Also I need to read more...Under the cut because it got too long!

Angel's Wild (not gonna lie this is my favorite fic. I have read this almost a dozen times now)

Summary: But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels.

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God, protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right?

That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Checked Out

Summary: Castiel Novak can think of many writers who would not be welcome under the roof of Heaven’s Gate library, where he is the librarian: Ayn Rand ranks highly (no explanation needed), as does Charles Dickens (he hasn’t forgiven Charles for the month he lost to The Pickwick Papers). And, of course, Dean Winchester. Dean Winchester, local author and obvious a-hole, who is entirely too handsome to be true and who is clearly totally lacking in profundity, intelligence, sincerity, and self-awareness. Unfortunately, though, Dean’s been invited to do a book signing at Heaven’s Gate - and Castiel’s about to be confronted by some unexpected feelings when he finally meets Dean for the first time.

A Ghost Story

Summary: Castiel Novak has haunted his family's estate for 150 years, awaiting the return of his lost love. Upon their reunion, Dean Winchester learns of his past reincarnation. After the night of Castiel's resurrection, the two try to find out why they've been given a second chance. The answers may be hidden in the forgotten memories of Dean's former life - but sometimes the truth is better left buried.

Patient Love

Summary: Castiel Novak is 27 when he suddenly loses his twin brother Jimmy, and his whole world turns to ashes. How do you deal with losing half of yourself when your whole life always revolved around the two of you, like yin and yang and black and white? How do you deal with a broken soul and old demons looming over you with no one to hold you back anymore?

After 10 years as a Navy Special Warfare Operator and more than a dozen deployments in both Afghanistan and Iraq, a battlefield injury forces 28-year-old Chief Petty Officer Dean Winchester to chose between being stuck behind a desk for the rest of his career or going back to civil life. When he learns about his friend Jimmy’s death, Dean makes his way back to Kansas with his heart in his throat and broken pieces at his feet.

Things are already complicated and painful enough as it is, but when former lovers Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak meet again after 10 years of radio silence and a galaxy of wounds and scars solidly standing between them, it feels like both a curse and a blessing has been placed on them both. Is there any hope in putting back their broken pieces together after a decade, and how do you deal with grief and broken dreams?

The Unbroken

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

While You Were Sleeping

Summary: A Destiel version of While You Were Sleeping! Castiel is alone and floundering. He has a crush on one of the passengers who passes through his subway station every morning. When the man gets pushed onto the tracks, Cas saves him. But when they get to the hospital there's a mix up and Cas finds himself engaged to a complete stranger. Enter, the rest of the family, including big brother Dean. How will Cas navigate the relationship with his supposed future in-laws? What will he do when Sam finally wakes up? And why can't he stop thinking about Dean?

Purgatory, director's cut

Summary: this doesn’t have a summary but it is dean and cas in purgatory and it’s soooo cool! I promise it’s amazing and worth the read!

Basic Lessons in First Aid, Magical or Otherwise

Summary: Most people probably wouldn’t take the naked, heavily wounded man they found in an alley home with them. Most people probably wouldn’t also offer that man a place to stay and become his best friend after realizing he’s suffering from an intense case of post-traumatic retrograde amnesia. Most people probably wouldn’t then risk almost everything they know to save said man, and maybe save the world in the process.

But then again, Dean Winchester, RN (with a specialty in supernatural care), has never been like most people. He may not have a magical bone in his body, unlike his brother Sam, but he’ll do whatever it takes to help. Even if Castiel has questionable opinions about Star Trek.

What Greater Gift

Summary: Story idea: The most wanted woman in town has announced that she’ll only marry the one who can open her front door with the key around her cat’s neck. Many men try to hunt the cat down, chase and trap it, but to no avail, the cat is simply too quick, smart and clever, and always finds a way to evade and avoid them. You are the first one to figure out the obvious: Do not chase the cat. The cat is befriendable. Get the cat to trust you, to genuinely enjoy your company, and you can hang out with the cat. You may eventually be allowed to touch the cat. The cat will freely let you take the key.

From a prompt found on Tumblr. Saw this and I couldn't resist a Destiel AU, and I've been wanting to write Witch!Cas for ages.

I know when you go down all your darkest roads

Summary: Dean and Castiel go undercover as a couple going through therapy, in order to catch a monster that specifically targets couples dealing with issues, feeding on their distress, anger, and pain.

They end up going through a lot more than a case, unfolding feelings left untold for so long, discovering parts of each other they never intended to uncover.

But will the feelings raging inside them be enough to bring their walls down?

A Fish Out of Water

Summary: To tie up the loose ends of a hunt, Dean is forced to go undercover and visit Brock Pleasure Ranch, a horrifying establishment that markets its inhabitants to people with ‘monstrous’ tastes.

It should have been a simple thing, to persuade a mer to give him a few scales for a spell. All part of the usual Winchester byline: saving people, hunting things.

But Castiel is far less of a ‘thing’ than Dean expected. He might not be human, but he’s definitely a person. And that means he needs saving, too.

The Way to a Man’s Heart is Through Chlamydia

Summary: Dean doesn't expect to see his one night stand again, but then again he also doesn't expect to find out he has an STD. Sometimes life is hilarious like that.

Just as lost as I

Summary: Dean's been in love with Castiel for centuries. He keeps it buried, never letting himself get too close, but when Castiel goes missing he doesn't hesitate. He's going to find him if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Love Bites

Summary: Cas Novak graduated with a 4.0 in Mathematics, but not even Naomi Novak’s money could help him at job interviews. Anxious and dissatisfied with life, at nearly thirty he’s still washing dishes in the back of his best friend Hannah’s café.Until one night when his cat drags an injured bat into his apartment.

Dean may be a vampire, but he’s not an asshole (well, not much.) He feels like he owes the awkward guy for rescuing him from the cat’s clutches, so he sets about changing Cas's life.

A silly story about families who aren’t quite what they seem, fake boyfriends, and falling in love with someone who’s never, technically, met you.

The Bad Cop, Worse Cop Adventures of Freckles and Feathers

Summary: Miami. A place with beaches, babes, palm trees, and a growing drug-fueled crime organization. To help combat the drugs littering the streets, Captain Singer puts together a Tactical Narcotics Team composed of Miami's two finest and fearless officers. Charming casanova Dean Winchester has fought tooth and nail, rising through the ranks for this position. Trench coat toting Castiel Novak knows more hand-to-hand combative techniques than he does people skills. Between Dean's big mouth and Castiel's take-no-shit attitude, their introductory meeting ends on a less than stellar note and a couple of hard to shake nicknames.

After six months of partnership, the nicknames have stuck and so has the sexual tension. When a murder in the middle of the night launches their biggest lead on a cleverly evasive drug lord, Dean is shocked to find Sam at the center of it. Sam comes clean with his involvement and Charlie, their witness, seeks revenge against the man responsible for killing her friend. As the stakes rise higher so do Dean’s feelings putting everything in jeopardy. Is a cop with everything to prove, a cop with everything to lose, one computer hacker witness, and a damn good ADA enough to save the day?

The Care and Feeding of Castiel

Summary: Dean’s quiet time in the bunker is interrupted by some stranger-than-usual behavior from his angel. Oh, and feathers...there are a lot of those, too.

First Gentleman Wanted

Summary: President of the United States Castiel Novak is popular, charismatic, and knee-deep in campaigning for a second term. He’d be the ideal candidate if it weren’t for the fact that he hasn’t dated once while in political office. With his opponent’s relentless PR team calling him incapable of emotional commitment, Castiel’s staff decides to remedy the situation by finding their boss a fake, picture-perfect boyfriend. And when Dean Winchester enters the scene, he and Cas become America’s new favorite couple, except they’ve got a whole lot of history between them and complicated feelings to resolve.

The Graveyard Shift

Summary: Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

The Path of Fireflies

Summary: After his humanity is restored, Dean wakes up in bed with Castiel, a wedding ring, and no memory of the past twelve years.

The Five People You Meet in Heaven

Summary: Heaven is white.Well. Isn’t that fucking stereotypical.-Dean isn’t really sure how he got here. Or even why he’s here. And hell, for all the times the Winchesters have died, he thinks he ought to know the drill by now. But what he doesn’t know is when most folks go, they find something different.

There’s a system God put in place. That when you’re gone (for good), there are a couple things you gotta do first. There are five people waiting for you.

They are the five people you meet in heaven.

Doing this made me realize I need to read more longer fics. I usually just read the short ficlets on tumblr but I need to broaden my horizon and read more. But yes! These are the AU’s currently in my bookmarks. Hope you find one to enjoy :)

#fic rec #answering the q's #lalisfandoms

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