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babesonly · 4 years ago

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fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny.

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

An ethics lesson from Hell

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want?

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god.

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

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anamatics · 3 years ago

Note

Subtext is queerbaiting! Why they doesn't show real relationship? Why only in subtext?

Hi.

I'm not entirely sure what this comment is in relationship to, but I want to stop you right there and consider how old you are. Your attitude toward subtext, where you're implying that there's some sort of a conscious choice "they" make in order to queerbait you, is misguided. Now, I'm assuming here, but I'm guessing you're younger than me.

If you're going to come in and leave some bitchy anon with no context as if I've ever written anything queer as subtextual any time in my goddamn life, maybe consider if this is really what you want to do.

Because, my dude, in the past twenty five years of my life I've gone from a gay kid getting lynched in Wyoming as a cautionary tale about being too out to the general state of acceptance and protections for my sexuality being written by Noted Conservative USSC Justice Neil Gorsuch. Suffice is to say, there's been a lot of change.

The "they" that you're raging against, the Old Cis White Men who control TV Networks like the CW or Disney or what the fuck ever, haven't exactly evolved since Matthew Shephard's murder. They have marketing people whispering in their ears that the queers will make people stop watching shows. They are still adhering to the mores Hayes Code, which is now long-defunct but lives on in spirit. They are the ones who get nervous because you have two girls kissing at the end of your Very Gay Webseries. They're the ones your producers argue with for hours to Make That Happens.

So yeah, the queers writing the shows? Making the shows? The queer actors on the shows? Not the ones you should be bitching at because we move heaven and goddamn earth to not have our gay shit be subtext. And when we can't, because some asshole cis het white man is more concerned about advertiser dollars and whatever the fuck the demo they think is watching the show is going to think, we put in fucking subtext because that, sometimes, is all we can fucking do.

They took the lesbians in Sailor Moon and made them fucking cousins when I was a kid. That's how afraid they were of the gays. Cousins who romantically hold hands and die for each other is better than two girls in love. For my entire childhood, until fucking Buffy (which while great was also horrible for so many reasons), subtext was all we could fucking have. So maybe consider that sometimes writers in the late nineties and early aughts would throw the queers the best bone they could. So maybe consider that you're young and things were different for a lot of people who are older than you. So maybe consider that yes, some subtext is queerbaiting. We've all seen Rizzoli and Isles or Supernatural, we fucking know. But not all subtext was. And that is totally okay.

And if this is somehow about supercorp I swear to fucking god there are out queer characters on the show I'm sorry your OTP didn't become canon it isn't queerbaiting.

#goddddddd #why

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221castiel · 3 years ago

Text

If You Love Me, Don’t Let Go

Read it on AO3 Here!

She was two years old when her "dad" Dean Winchester had been sentenced to twenty five years in prison.

Now, fifteen years later, he's being released early and Claire's only sure of one thing; she doesn't want him back.

Everything seemed to fall back into place the moment he’d stepped through the front door. His chair in the morning was used as if it had never been empty, his coats hung on the hangers alongside their own and his car soon found its place in their driveway as if it had always parked there. It was like he’d never left, or at least that’s how Claire should have felt, but sitting at the kitchen table watching as Dean made breakfast felt wrong. Not comforting and definitely not familiar.

Everything about the situation was wrong, stiff, awkward, forced. Yet no one else seemed to notice or maybe they just didn’t care, as Cas leant against the kitchen counter watching his boyfriend cook and Jack sat at the other end of the kitchen table flipping through a comic book like the dork he was.

Dean himself stood at their stove saying something to Cas as he made them pancakes. He wore a pair of grey sweat pants and nothing else, letting Claire stare at the burn that covers the majority of his upper back. The burnt skin continued along his right shoulder, and down his right arm just stopping above his elbow. It was an older burn, the skin wrinkled and brighter than the rest of his pale skin, keeping Claire’s attention no matter how many times she tried to look away.

She could ask about it.

Was it part of the reason he’d gone to jail? Did he get it at jail? Were there more? All bitchy questions, but it wasn’t like Claire was above being an occasional bitch.

She opened her mouth, though before she could get the words out Dean was turning her way and her gaze quickly dropped to the plate in front of her. The sounds of footsteps came then from the corner of her eye Claire watched as Dean set a tray of pancakes onto the table.

“Still like blueberry pancakes?” Dean asked as he took the seat on her right, and her dad took the one to her left. Which was incredibly wrong, Cas had always sat on her right, but it wasn’t like Dean cared about what they normally did.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. Dean had a smile across his face, one that wasn’t completely easy, more cautious as if he was trying to bargain for her trust.

“No,” Claire replied, hoping he could hear the annoyance in her tone. “Not since I was five.”

“Well I do!” Jack cut in. Dean’s features dropped for a second, in maybe even defeat before he was once again smiling and had turned his head to talk to jack.

Leave it to her brother to try to play peacekeeper, even though just last week they’d both agreed they weren’t happy about Dean returning.

Fucking traiter.

She gave her brother a quick glare before pushing her chair back with a more than satisfying screech, and walked across the kitchen to grab cereal. The conversations continued on behind her as she grabbed a bowl and filled it with milk and cereal, a blur of words that she didn’t really care about or want to hear.

It was too early for conversations, especially with a stranger that she was supposed to just pretend was part of her family. She preferred when it was just her and Jack in the morning, Cas working one of the hospitals morning shifts or still asleep after a late shift. When it was quiet, and more important when it was without Dean.

She grabbed a spoon and shoved a mouth full of cheerios into her mouth before she went back to her spot at the table.

“Claire,” Cas said as she sat down. She hummed in response. “Dean has offered to give you a ride to school today.”

She glanced to Dean before looking back to her dad. “I’m fine taking the bus,” Claire said, “I’m sure he’s busy.”

“He offered.”

“I like the bus.” She liked walking the forty minutes if it meant not sitting in a car with Dean.

“I can give you a ride,” Dean insisted. Clenching her teeth Claire glared at the other man, “it isn’t that big of a deal, I’ve gotta stop at the courthouse anyway,” he continued.

“Schools in the other direction,” Claire argued through clenched teeth. Dean’s gaze darted to Cas as if looking for some kind of helping and Claire couldn't help but be proud of herself. Causing Dean to be speechless, to lose his easy smile for not once but the second time that morning.

“I have a math test today!” Jack suddenly declared, causing everyone to look over. Claire rolled her eyes before looking back to her bowl of cereal and poking at the cheerios floating in the milk.

“Shit” Dean hummed through a mouthful of food, because apparently eating with your mouth closed was too hard of a concept “that sucks.”

“I like math.”

Dean raised an eyebrow looking to Cas, “what the hell did you do to him.”

Claire’s grip around her spoon tightened. Other than actually raise him, and work every hour the hospital offered him to pay the bills, and make sure they were both happy and nopt fukcing leave. The list of things her dad did was endless.

“Math’s interesting,” Jack insisted. “As long as you do it right the numbers just work!”

“And what about you?” Dean asked, Claire raising her eyebrow as he looked towards her, “got any weird interests?”

Claire pressed her lips together. How long would it take for him to realize that she didn’t want to talk, or that she didn’t even like him. A week? A month? She didn’t think she could handle another hour of his constant talking.

“We should get ready,” Claire said, looking back to Jack, “or we’ll miss the bus.”

Without waiting for an answer Claire stood grabbing her bowl and carrying it to the sink, the sound of Jack’s chair filling the silent kitchen. She then walked quickly to the kitchen door only stopping at the sound of Cas’ voice.

“Claire, are you sure you wouldn’t like a ride?”

Chewing at her lip Claire looked back meeting her dad's gaze. His expression sat emotionless, though Claire could hear in his tone how much he wanted her to take it. He wanted her to pretend as if the first fifteen years of her life didn’t happen, as if they were a family, as if Dean hadn’t left them.

Maybe Cas could forgive him, but she couldn’t.

“Yah,” Claire replied, biting her lip harder as Cas’s expression dropped just for a second. “Thanks though.”

She turned away not waiting for a response and instead walked into the hallway Jack on her heels. “I wanted a ride,” he mumbled as they turned up the staircases, and Claire rolled her eyes. Of course he wanted a ride, he also wanted them all to be happy and be a family and sing songs or some kind of buillshit like that.

“Stop whining,” Claire mumbled, “the bus won’t kill you.”

Dean must be deaf, or stupid, because despite every argument she’d made over breakfast he’s waiting for her at the end of the school today. The impala unmistakable in the row of other parents' cars with Dean sat in the drivers seat waving her over.

Maybe she could get hit on her way.

She isn’t so lucky and manages to walk to the passenger door without any fatal injuries. She pulled it open with as much force as she could muster before slamming it shut with a satisfying noise, hopefully causing some kind of damage. A small dent or even a scratch, anything to mess up the untouched paint.

“Coffee,” Dean offered as Claire turned to grab her seatbelt.

She glanced at the to go cup in his hand then to his face, that easy, incredibly punch smile still across his lips. Was giving up so hard, could he not just be thankful that Jack liked him (not like that was hard).

Pressing her lips together she looked down to the seatbelt and buckled it into place. “I don’t like coffee.”

Tuesday was the same. The impala was parked in the row of parents, as if he was their parent, and when Claire sat down into the passenger seat Dean offered her another to go cup. Hot chocolate, he said, and with the same clipped tone Claire mumbled an ‘I don’t like hot chocolate.’

Wednesday he offered tea, and on Thursday Claire knew he must have talked to Cas. When she took her spot in the passenger seat she immediately recognized the blue to go cup from her favourite coffee shop -a coffee shop twenty minutes past the school-

“Caffe Mocha with almond milk”, Dean said as he offered her the drink.

Claire clenched her jaw, twisting her body to look out the passenger window. There was nothing to look at there, only the school's parking lot but anything was better than Dean. “I’m fine.”

On Friday when Claire stepped out of the high school the impala was nowhere in sight.

No matter what her feelings were towards Dean it was impossible to ignore just how much Cas loved him. Long lasting looks that left Claire rolling her eyes, quick kisses, always touching in some way or another. He smiled constantly, and it was hard to even imagine that this Cas was the same dad she’d grown up with. Always optimistic, always loving but tired from work and raising kids. Worn down from life.

Why hadn’t Dean seen that Castiel?

Why couldn’t Dean have seen all the pain he’d caused?

Claire’s grip around her pencil tightened, jaw tense as she grinded her teeth together. It was all she seemed to do the past week, clench her jaw push down the bubbling frustration, hope that Dean would just fucking understand that he wasn’t fucking wanted.

She forced a breath through her nose glaring down to her math homework before she looked out their living room window. The neighborhood was quiet for a Saturday morning, not a person in sight other than Dean and Cas, who were out cleaning the impala. Both drenched head to toe, covered in bubbles, but smiling, laughing as in between spraying the car they’d spray one another.

Happy. Castiel was so incredibly happy, and it only made everything more frustrating.

After glaring at the two men Claire looked back to her homework, scratching her pencil across the page in dark lines that only partially satisfied her frustrations. It was better than nothing.

She worked slowly down the page, keeping her head down as she solved each equation until the sound of the front door opening broke the silence and she looked up.

“Having fun?” Claire asked as Cas, still dripping wet, stepped into the living room.

Cas smiled, “I am.”

Well that made one of them.

Claire looked back down to her homework, clenching her jaw as her gaze wandered across the page. None of it made sense, of course none of it made sense it was math, but it was still better than looking at her dad. At her genuinely happy dad, who was happy because of Dean.

The sound of Cas’s footsteps came, then paused. “Somethings wrong?” He said.

“No,” Claire mumbled.

“Did something happen at school?”

“No,” she insisted, “I’m fine.”

She shoved her pencils back into their case, then closed her binder before pushing the desk chair back in a loud screech that definitely scratched the wood floors. She’d apologize for that later, for now she needed to be away. Away from Cas, and away from fucking Dean. Away from the pretend.

They weren’t a family.

Families didn’t fucking leave each other.

“Claire,” Cas whispered as she walked past him, stopping her in her tracks. “You’re able to talk to me.”

“But I’m not,” she snapped, turning towards him. “You chose him, after everything that fucking happened, after everything that he fucking did, you still chose him,” the bubble of emotion burst through her chest as her words became more frantic, fists clenched at her sides. “Why aren’t you angry at him?”

Cas tilted his head, his gaze holding Claire’s, filled with so much concern it made her sick. “You want me to be angry at Dean?”

“You should be!” Claire cried. Was it that crazy of a concept? “He left you with two kids, he left you and you're just letting him back into our life!”

“Claire,” Cas said so gently it made Claire want to scream. He stepped closer and she stepped back, keeping the same space between them despite the pained look that crossed her dad's face. “Dean- he didn’t want to leave, I understand-“

“No you don’t understand shit,” Claire spat, “he knew he had a family, he knew that,” her voice shook, and she inhaled sharply, “and he still- you just let him come back, after everything.”

“It wasn’t his choice.”

“Yes it was!” Claire screamed, “you don’t just get arrested, you did shitty things and be a shitty person, and-“ She clenched her jaw, holding her dad’s gaze. “Why are you choosing his side?”

“There are no sides,” Cas replied slowly, “and Dean, he isn’t a bad person”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Claire mumbled.

Cas pressed his lips together, eyebrows furrowing as Claire stared back. They’re was more she wanted to say, a mix of insults and swears that she’d been holding back over the week yet they stayed stuck on her lips. Her voice was suddenly gone as Cas stared at her, not carrying to hide the hurt that was clear across his face, and yah Claire knew it was her who caused it. Her words. Her actions. Her feelings, but it was Dean who’d caused all that.

Why couldn’t her dad see that?

“I’m going to my room,” Claire finally mumbled.

She turned away, no longer able to hold her dad’s gaze and instead walked out of the living room, ignoring Cas as he called for her to wait. Her footsteps were heavy as she stomped up the staircase, and she made sure to slam her door before she fell across her bed and squeezed her eyes shut.

A knock came though she didn’t move instead choking down a breath as another soon followed.

“Claire?” Cas asked softly, voice muffled through the door. “Could we please talk?”

Claire buried her face into her pillow, forcing another breath. No, they couldn’t, not now, after all the anger had faded leaving a throbbing pain in her chest.

She knew how the conversation would go, exactly the same as every other time. Cas would swear Dean was a good person, Claire would try not roll her eyes and agree to make her dad happy, then they’d pretend they were a happy family until she couldn’t handle it again.

She couldn’t do it.

Not after years of being alone.

At the sound of Cas’s disappearing footsteps Claire opened her eyes staring quietly at the photo on her bedside table. It was of the four of them Cas holding Jack who was only a few months old while she herself at only two was sat on Dean's shoulders with a wide smile across her face.

She’d always hated that photo, yet had never had the heart to replace it.

Now she wished she had.

She isn’t sure whether Cas told Dean or not about their fight, and she wasn’t sure which she prefered, but when she finally leaves her room that night for dinner, nothing seems to change. Dean still attempts to coax conversation out of her while Jack plays moderatore, making sure nothing becomes too tense. Even at the end of the night when it’s only her and her dad left doing the dishes Cas doesn't mention anything.

Sunday is the same, and when Monday comes they fall back into the same annoying routine of Dean picking them up, trying to win Claire over with drinks and baking. He really seemed to think she was that easy, that she’d let things slide like the rest of her family.

By Thursday Claire had enough of the awkward car rides, and at the end of the day found Jack outside of his locker and dragged him out the back entrance, rather than the front.

“Claire!” Jack cried as she dragged him across the teachers parking lot by his wrist. His footsteps were uneven trying to keep up with her long strides and his backpack dangled from her one shoulder yet Claire didn’t stop. She needed to put as much distance as she could between her and that stupid impala, she couldn’t spend another second listening to blaring music or he rattling of the air conditioning.

“Claire!” Jack insisted. “Please! Stop!” He gave a harsh tug pulling his wrist from Claire’s grip and causing her to stop and turn around meeting her brother’s glare. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Claire snapped, clenching her jaw. “I- just- I thought we could see grandpa.”

Jack raised an eyebrow, and yah Claire knew it wasn’t the best lie but Jack was gullible and like hell she’d tell him the truth. He'd just be pissed that she was tearing their family apart, or some dramatic statement like that.

“You want to go see grandpa?” Jack repeated and Claire nodded. “Dean could drive us.”

“Why? Your legs don’t work?”

“They work!”

“Then you can walk”

Jack gave her a glare but followed her as they walked across the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. They walked shoulder to shoulder, a silence hanging around them as they made their way down the familiar neighborhood, past the houses Claire had long ago memorized and to Chuck’s.

“Claire?” Jack asked, as they turned off the street and into an alley. “Is everything okay?”

At the softness in his voice Claire glanced to her brother, meeting his gaze for a second before she’d looked forward again. “I’m fine,” she replied, clenching her jaw.

“Are you sure?”

Could Jack not take a hint? She didn’t want to talk about it. “Yes.”

“You don’t seem okay.”

He really couldn’t take a hint.

Claire forced a breath through her nose, glaring at the parked car ahead of them, as if it would solve her problems. It was either that or Jack. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know,” Jack replied, “you’ve just been kind of…”

“A bitch?”

“I was going to say a jerk,” Jack whispered, “but yah.”

She scrunched her nose looking down to her sneakers before looking back to the car ahead of them. “I don’t like Dean,” she finally said, the words sounding even harsher than they had in her head.

Jack frowned, looking to her, though she kept looking forward. “Why not?”

Claire shrugged. “He left us, he hurt dad, and I just-“ she took a slow breath. The words weren’t sassy to say, there were too many thoughts, too many reasons, and too many of them she wasn’t willing to say out loud.

He left Jack.

He left Cas

He left her.

And she was terrified he’d do it again.

“I don’t think he should just get to walk back into our lives as if nothing happened,” Claire finally said.

“I think you should give him a chance,” Jack replied softly, a comment Claire decided to ignore and instead look back to her feet, letting the silence once again fall between them. It thankfully stayed that way for the rest of the walk, until they reached Chuck’s house and made their way up the back porch.

They were greeted with a wide smile and a tight hug each that Claire may have held onto a bit longer than normal, before Chuck offered tea and they both accepted. They then made they’re way into the living where Jack took a seat on the one couch while Claire remained standing instead studying the photos that lined the fireplace.

Most were of their family, her aunts and uncles with her cousins though it’s the center one that she stared at. One at her aunt Anna’s wedding maybe twenty or so years ago. It was of all her aunt’s uncles at the beach, arms slung over one another’s shoulders with Anna and her husband standing in the center. At one end Dean and Cas stood together, younger but definitely them, Cas laughing at something someone had said, well Dean grinned at Cas.

Even in photos it was impossible to ignore how much he loved her dad.

“And how are my favourite grandkids?” Chuck hummed his footsteps filling the silent room followed but the sound of cups being placed onto the table. The sound of her grandfather sitting down came though Claire didn’t turn instead continuing to study the photo.

“I’m good,” Jack said as the sound of the teapot being poured came, “soccer starts next week, and I’m doing this really cool project in socials class where we get to plan a city.”

“And what about you Claire?”

She shrugged, “I’m fine.”

When no one continued speaking she turned around, just getting a glimpse of the questioning look her grandpa gave Jack. “Claire is uh-“ Jack began causing Claire to glare at him. God help her brother if he decided to keep speaking, “her and Dean aren’t getting along.” She was going to kill him.

Chuck stopped pouring the tea, his gaze immediately looking up. “Dean’s been released,” he said in a clipped tone, placing the teapot back down before he picked up his own cup. “I forgot that was happening.”

Claire pressed her lips together, her gaze darting over her grandfather's features which sat in an unreadable expression, though definitely not a pleased one. “You don’t like him?” She finally decided.

“I-“ Chuck looked down to his cup, seeming unable to decide whether he should tell the truth or not. God Claire hoped he would. “I’ve never been fond of him,” Chuck finally said.

“Why?”

“Growing up he had… problems, getting into fights, skipping school, stealing, he was always looking for attention,” Chuck said. He brought the cup to his lips, taking a small sip before continuing. “I didn’t want Castiel around that, he was a nice kid and too trusting for his own good, but your father is incredibly stubborn and wouldn’t listen to me. I don’t know how many times I’d found Dean climbing through his bedroom window.”

Claire pressed her lips together, waiting for Chuck to say more as he leant forward and grabbed the spoon from the sugar bowl. Each movement was far too slow, getting a small spoonful of sugar, pouring it into his cup, stirring it in, testing the drink, then adding more.

“I’d assumed,” Chuck finally continued leaning back into the couch, “after the most recent arrest Castiel would come to his senses but-“ he shrugged, “here we are.”

“Most recent arrest?” Claire asked.

Chuck hummed, “there are a handful of times when he was a teenager, and I believe three or four as an adult.”

Electricity seemed to buzz under her skin, the information blurring together. It was more than she’d ever heard about Dean from anyone. She’d learned from a young age not to talk to her father about him, it only ever made Cas sad, and even when he was willing to talk about a Dean it was rarely ever much more than how much Dean loved them. It was certainly never about his arrest, or apprenalty multiple arrests.

It was addicting. She wanted to know more, here everything her father had refused to tell her. Everything that confirmed her suspicions. Dean shouldn’t be released, he shouldn’t be in their house, and he definitely shouldn’t be pretending to be a part of their family.

Claire took a seat next to Jack, continuing to stare at her grandfather who sat on the couch across from them. “Do you know why he got arrested?”

“Claire,” Jack whispered, voice uncertain, though she only ignored him.

“Your father never told me the full story,” Chuck replied, “I believe a fight may have been part of it, though anything is possible.”

Claire pressed her lips together. She had more questions, endless questions though they’d all become a blur, unsure which ones were more important than others, or which ones Chuck would refuse to answer.

Her lips parted and Jack shifted, “please stop,” he whispered.

“What did dad say about it?”

Chuck lowered his cup though before he could reply Jack stood and without a word walked out of the room.

The walk home is quiet, Jack always a few steps ahead refusing to look at her, and maybe she should care but she didn’t. Hell she was thankful for the space for the silence that allowed her to replay everything Chuck had told her. She’d been right, or at least the unease she’d felt around Dean was right.

There was a reason she couldn’t trust him.

So why couldn’t her dad see that?

When they get home still without a word Jack goes to his room, leaving Claire to quietly walk through the house and into the kitchen. She opened the kitchen cupboard looking for something to eat until the sound of footsteps came causing her to to turn her head as Dean walked into the kitchen.

“Hey,” he greeted offering a smile that she didn’t return.

“Hey,” Claire replied. She didn’t move as Dean opened the fridge and took out a beer. “Do you know where dad is?”

“Hospital called,” he replied, “he’ll be working till seven.” Claire grit her teeth as Dean took a seat at the kitchen, propping his feet onto the other chair. Every action had been so casual, as if he’d been living in the house for years rather than two weeks.

“What about you?” Dean asked, twisting the cap off his bottle, Claire only raised an eyebrow. “Where were you and the kid at?”

“Our Grandpas,” she replied in a clipped tone.

Dean frowned, causing Claire to clench her fists. “Chucks?” He asked as if it was the craziest thing in the world.

“Yah,” Claire replied, “is there a problem with that?”

“No, just never pictured him as a number one grandpa,” Dean shrugged, “I always saw him as more of a grandpa joe type.”

Claire clenched her jaw, teeth grinding together as she looked back to the open cupboard. “Well at least he helped raise me,” she muttered.

“What.”

She turned around meeting Dean’s gaze, every inch of her skin alive with energy, emotion bubbling through her chest as she clenched her fists tighter. “I said,” she began voice harsh, and slow, “atleast he helped fucking raise me.”

Dean’s eyes widened and Claire didn’t look away, holding his gaze with her jaw clenched and chin tilted up. She hoped it hurt. She wanted it to hurt so bad.

Claire sucked in a harsh breath, and before Dean could reply she walked out of the kitchen with long strides. Her eyes burned as she wiped at them, the pain once again settling in her chest as she rushed up the staircase and into her room.

Much to her relief, Dean never followed

She doesn’t come out of her room for dinner, or when her dad comes home, or when her phone dies and the charger’s still in Jack’s room from when he’d stolen it the day before. She can’t see Dean, especially not with Cas around, and so it isn’t until eleven when she’s sure everyone will be at least in their rooms that she slides out of her own quietly walking the hallway she’s stopped by the sound of Dean and Cas’s voice.

“I just- there’s nothing I can do,” Dean said, his voice getting louder the closer Claire got to their bedroom. The door was just cracked open letting a sliver of light fall through and for Claire to see them, Dean sat on the edge of their bed while Cas stood between his legs still dressed in his nursing scrubs. “She doesn’t want me around.”

Cas tilted his head.. “Why would you think that?”

“Have you been paying attention?” For once Claire had to agree with him.

Cas sighed, “Claire is stubborn.” He raised a hand lacing his fingers through Dean’s, “But she will come around, she just needs time.”

“I don’t think time’s going to do shit.”

“Claire is hurt,” Cas replied, “things weren’t always always easy. we didn’t always have the money, and I didn’t always have the time to be there for them.”

Dean raised the hand he had laced with Cas’s and pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’s hand. “I’m so sorry angel,” Dean whispered the words filled with so much pain Claire sucked in a breath. “For everything.”

“Dean, it was never your fault, a systems failure isn’t your fault.”

Silence fell and suddenly her heart beat was too loud, her breathing was too loud, everything was too loud as she watched Dean and her Dad stare at one another. Not a word spoken yet Claire can’t help but feel as if she’s missed a million different conversations, words said that only they would understand.

Dean raised a hand resting it against the side of Cas’ face as he continued to stare at the other. Slowly Cas leant down pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips.

“I didn’t know Chuck was such a good grandpa,” Dean teased as they pulled away, “thought he’d be more of the grandpa joe type.”

Claire rolled her eyes, it wasn’t funny the first time, what would make it funny the second?

Cas tilted his head either not thinking it’s funny or maybe just not getting it. Claire was going with the first option, cause it wasn’t funny. “He looked after them often when they were children and I had worked, though I am amazed at how well he did with them,” Cas replied, “he’d even let them have candy.”

“Shit really?”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips, “I believe it’s unfair, he believes it was good parenting.”

“It’s unfair,” Dean replied. He looked down to their joined hands, a smile still across his voice though his tone came out more distant. “What about my dad?”

Cas pressed his lips together, and Claire leant closer to the door. The tension that had settled in the room was clear, whatever playful atmosphere that he'd been there suddenly gone, replaced with something more serious, more personal.

She should leave. Get a phone charger like she’d meant to or just go back to her room. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“John has called twice,” Cas finally replied, voice steady, maybe even careful, “once when they were children, and a second time a year or two ago. He’d wanted to meet them but I said no.”

“Good,” Dean mumbled, “don’t let that son of a bitch near them.”

“Have you talked to him?”

Dean shook his head, and Claire leant in a little closer, holding her breath as she watched, trying to hear whatever would come next. Maybe some kind of explanation, something that would answer one of the million questions she had, or at least feed her growing curiosity, though it seemed neither of them wanted to continue the conversation as Cas stepped away from Dean and out of Claire’s view.

“You did a good job,” Dean said as the sound of a drawer being opened came. “Jack- the kids amazing, and Claire,” he paused, and Claire could almost hear every possibility racing through his mind. Annoying. Rude. How would he say it nicely in front of her dad? “She’s beautiful.”

The statement comes like a sucker punch.

“I know,” Cas replied, walking back to his spot in front of Dean, now in his pajamas. An old AC/DC shirt and his bee pajamas pants that Claire had bought him as a joke. “She reminds me of you.”

She scrunched her nose, that had to be a joke, a cruel joke.

“She’s much better than I ever was,” Dean replied, and yah Claire isn’t perfect she knew that but for a second time that night Dean was right. “Have you seen the painting she’s working on,” Dean continued, “She has Leonardo looking like some amateur, and her grades! She’s talented as hell and some kind of genius- her music tastes shit but we’ll work on that.”

Claire bit at her lip, her stomach uneasy from all the praise, as Cas pulled Dean into a hug. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to be there,” Cas whispered softly.

Dean’s expression was full of pain, his eyes staring up to the ceiling, looking exhausted if not completely dragged, despite that his voice came out steady. “Remember how much she’d draw?” Dean whispered, “I swear the moment she could grab a pen she never stopped. They were so shitty.”

“You hung everyone on the fridge.”

“And she’d sign them bear.”

“That's because you made her believe her name was bear.” Cas replied.

A small smile tugged at Dean’s lips, though it was still nothing like the smiles Claire normally saw across his face. “Claire Bear was a cute name.” He whispered

“It was alright.”

Dean rubbed a hand at his eyes as he continued to look to the ceiling. “I fucked up,” He whispered and Claire stepped back. She couldn’t watch anymore, not with the weight of emotion that crushed her chest.

Her feet moved forward, as she forced herself to take a breath. The conversation repeated in her head as she walked down the staircase, once then twice, making her more sick each time. The pain in Dean’s voice, the pain across his face, his kind words, the adoration.

Why couldn’t he just hate her.

It’d be so much easier if he’d just hate her

Claire hated feelings. She always had and in the days after Dean and Cas’s conversation she only hated them more.

Being angry at Dean had been simple, she knew her feelings, she knew why she had those feelings. They’d always burned from the inside out, an energy that tore through her very veins, but an understandable energy. Now there was something else, a small pain in her chest that left her awake at night. That left her gasping for breath and wishing she’d simply die.

Maybe it was fear.

A small part of her wanting to let Dean in but that was far too aware of the pain that had caused the first time.

Thh feelings, the blur of anger and fear, all laced with confusion. She hated it, and she hated Dean for causing it.

“I can’t believe you still have those,” Dean grumbled as they walked along the forest path, Claire’s gaze darting to her fathers swim shorts. They were a bright obnoxiously blue colour, covered in yellow rubber ducks, a pair he’d owned, and she’d hated for as long as she could remember.

“I like them,” Cas replied and Claire was pretty sure the rubber ducks would like to be put out of their misery.

“Doesn’t stop them from being ugly as hell,” Dean called over his shoulder.

As they stepped out of the forest the scenery opened up onto a cliff side, the sound of crashing water filling the silence.

It’d been just over a month since Dean had been released and between school, Cas’s work, and Dean dealing with the court house or whatever he did, other than having meals together they hadn’t done anything as a family. Claire hadn’t minded, hell she preferred it that way, though apparently no one else agreed.

Claire laid her towel next to Jack’s, a few feet away from the cliff's edge and sat down, watching as her brother walked to the edge and peered down to the water below. “Jump!” Claire called.

“Is it safe to?” He asked, looking back to Dean and Cas who were laying out their own towels next to Claire’s.

“Just do it!” Claire replied.

“It’s safe,” Dean reassured. Way to ruin the fun

Jack looked back down to the water, then to them, chewing at his bottom lip. “it’s really high,” he said and Claire couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Bitch.

“There’s a ledge closer to the water,” Cas said, Ashe placed down the cooler they’d brought. “I’ll show you.”

Cas walked over to Jack amd lead him down the side of the cliff, leaving her and Dean alone.

Claire glanced to her right, Dean’s own gaze forward watching the cliffs. He’d taken his shirt off allowing her a glimpse of the burn that covered his right back, as well as another burn on his left shoulder. It was a perfect circle, barely bigger than a quarter, matching the one Claire had seen on the back of his left hand. It even had the same purple tone to it, faded but definitely there.

As gross as she found the scars and burns it was hard not to stare. To study each one anytime Dean wasn’t looking. She’d wanted to ask and maybe a few weeks ago she would have but now, she couldn’t get the words to come out.

From just under the hem of his swim shorts she could see a few more scars. Thin white strips, some no bigger than an inch while others traveled across his whole thigh. Not one overlapped, all parallel to one another and perfectly placed.

Dean turned and Claire immediately looked away, biting at her lip as the guilt tugged at her stomach. “How was Jack's Soccer game?” She asked, keeping her gaze forward despite Dean’ eyes still on her.

He definitely knew she was looking, he had to.

“Awesome,” Dean replied, “yah, Jack he’s- he’s uh.”

“Awful,” Claire offered. She’d been to a handful of his games and she was sure that in every single one Jack had been hit in the face with the ball at least once. He was hands down the worst player on their team, if not the league and yet he absolutely adored it. She’d never understand her brother.

“He’s crap,” Dean agreed. “I thought he’d been messin’ around but he’s just shitty.”

“Yah, I think he might have two left feet.”

“Or’s blind,” Dean said, causing Claire to bite at her lip, stopping the smile that tried to form. “Kinda lucky I’m not coachin’, woulda sucked to bench him.”

Claire raised her eyebrow, “you were going to coach”

“Yah,” Dean replied, “the kid asked me to but you can’t have a criminal record so…” Dean shrugged. His tone was casual as if that really didn’t bother him, though the way his jaw was set and his chin was tilted up, gave him away.

It bothered him. A lot.

“And you were going to bench him?” Claire asked.

“Hey,” Dean said, a smile once again across his lips, “I only coach winners.”

Claire bit her lip harder, stopping herself from laughing. She could picture it easily, Dean in the matching tracksuits that all the coaches wore, overall excited and more passionate than any of the players. He’d be Annoying as hell and Jack would’ve loved it.

She brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, as Cas climbed back onto the cliff's edge, completely dry.

“You didn’t jump in?” Dean yelled, causing Cas to look at them.

Cas tilted his head. “It’s very cold,” he replied.

“What a bitch,” Dean whispered, causing Claire to raise an eyebrow. He stood and walked over to Cas, saying something that Claire couldn’t make out before he wrapped his arms around the other’s waist. Slowly Dean leant down pressing his lips to Cas’s in a slow, incredibly gross kiss.

Claire scrunched her nose. Could they have not done that anywhere else?

Slowly they pulled away, noses still almost brushing as Dean said something else and then picked Cas up by his waist. “Dean!” Cas screamed struggling to get out the other’s grip as Dean carried him towards the cliff's edge.

“Any last words, angel?” Dean asked, a grin across his face.

Cas glared back. “I want a divorced.”

“We gotta get married first,” Dean replied. He took a step closer to the edge and Claire chewed at her lip, stopping the smile that came as Cas struggled in Dean’s arms. “Ready?”

“No.”

“Three,” Dean began counting down slowly, “two.”

“Dean, please I-“

“One!”

And with that Dean jumped off the edge, taking Cas with him.

Claire jumped to her feet, and ran to the edge. The water was far below, the small waves crashing against the cliff side as Dean tried to keep his head above the water while Cas attempted to shove him back under.

As much as Claire hated it, she couldn’t help but smile.

They spent the rest of the day at the cliffs, the sun warming her skin as she jumped in the water or sat at the edge laughing as Cas pushed Dean back in. It’s almost too easy, too soft, the feelings, the thoughts, the actions, and yet she couldn’t, the happiness was so refreshing she couldn't help but welcome it.

She’s even disappointed when Cas gets a call from the hospital asking him to come in for a night shift cutting their day short. Though that doesn’t stop her from humming to Dean’s music as everyone else sang along, or agreeing to ice cream when Dean offered, or for once letting herself enjoy the man’s company.

When they got home Claire made her way to her room. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the photo on her bedside table. They looked happy, like any other family out at the park. Dean holding her feet to keep her safe on his shoulder, Jack just a bundle of yellow blankets, his small hands reaching up to Cas.

Claire picked up the wooden frame, grip tight around it as she held the photo in her lap.

They’d taken a photo on the cliff's edge, the four of them smiling as if they’d done it a hundred times before and they could have.

They could have taken family photos together, had family dinners and breakfasts. Gone on vacations and to the movies, been a family, if Dean hadn’t left.

Claire clenched her jaw, the tip of her nose burning.

She could trust Dean, that’s what her dad would say, that’s what he’d always said and she wanted to. She wanted to be happy, she wanted to be a family, she wanted it more than anything else. She’d give anything for it, but with the pain settling in her chest and the tears blurring her vision, it was too late.

They weren’t a family.

And they never would be.

A knocking at her door came and Claire wiped the back of her hand across her eyes just as the door opened. “Hey,” Dean said. “Me and the kid were thinking of goin’ to the movies, would you wanna come?”

Claire gripped the frame tighter, biting her lip. She couldn’t look up, not with the way her nose burned or her hands shook. Not with Dean’s eyes on her, caring and still loving her after everything. Why did he still love her?

Couldn’t he give up?

She sucked in a breath and Dean’s footsteps followed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Claire whispered.

“Well that’s a shit lie.”

She looked up to Dean who stood in front of her, a worried expression across his face, causing a dull pain across her chest. Claire clenched her jaw as if that would somehow stop it, or at least numb it out with something else. Anger.

Anger she could handle, it was familiar, understandable. She knew how to live through it, what to expect from it, the pain though, that was unbearable.

“I said,” Claire replied through clenched teeth, “I’m fine.”

Dean glanced at the photo in her hand, before looking back to her, his expression so gentle she wanted to cry. “Look if you don't want to talk I'm not going to make you,” Dean began, the wood digging into the palms of Claire’s hands as she gripped the frame tighter. She wanted to snap it, hear the crack as the wood broke in half. The tear as the picture was ripped into two. Anything to release the bubbling emotion. “But I'm here if you change your mind.”

“I was fine.” Claire replied in a clipped tone. Dean raised an eyebrow, giving Claire a moment to turn back, to stop the fight she knew she was starting though she only tilted her chin and narrowed her eyes at the other. “Everything was fucking fine,” she snapped, “everyhting, until you came back!”

Dean’s expression didn’t change, staying emotionless as he stared at her and somehow that made everything worse.

“You’d left us!” She screamed, not carrying what she said, just anything to get rid of the pain, to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. “You left dad alone, and you left me!” Claire continued, the tears brimming her vision. “You jackass.”

Dean stepped forward, and Claire could only shake her head between her stumbled words. “You- you can’t- you left.”

“Claire-“

“Don’t.” She whispered, the word barely parting her lips.

She stared at Dean, lips barely parted.

There was so much more she wanted to say, so many more feelings she wanted to explain, yet she couldn’t find the energy to form them. Her vision still blurry as she held Dean’s gaze, though her grip around the frame had loosened and she couldnt find it in her to stop it from falling. It hit the ground with a loud crash, the glass shattering across her floor.

It wasn’t as satisfying as she thought it would be.

“You left for fifteen years,” Claire finally whispered, the words barely coming out. “And now I’m supposed to pretend as if everything’s okay and I can’t.”

“You aren’t my dad,” Claire whispered, “I didn’t want you back.”

She looked down to her floor, the shards of glass covering the wood, as the photo stayed flipped upside down only letting her see the back of the frame. Still she kept looking. She refused to look up, she didn’t think she could. “Get out.” Claire finally said.

“Can we please-“

“I said, get out.” When Dean doesn’t make a move Claire squeezed her eyes shut. “Now.” She demanded.

This time Dean listened.

It’s when Dean and Jack leave to the movies that Claire finally forced herself to stand, her legs weak under her weight as she walked out of her bedroom and into Cas’s.

The room hadn’t changed much since Dean had arrived, though it was enough to be noticeable. His leather jacket hanging on the closet’s door knob, his robe tossed over the desk chair, his books lined alongside Cas’s. The room was cleaner, unlike how Cas usually kept it, with stacks of papers or piles of clothing filling up any space they could. He’d never cared about keeping things clean, or maybe just never had the time, either way Dean seemed to care.

Claire made her way to the bookshelf, shuffling through the stack of scrap books Cas had made before she took the bottom one and sat at the edge of the bed. Slowly she flipped through the scrapbook, hands shaking as she studied each page. The paper everything that had been glued to, the decorations that covered it, pictures all paired with small descriptions of where and when they’d been taking. Most were of her between birth and one years old though there were a handful that had someone else in it, Dean or Cas, occasionally Chuck or one of her aunts and uncles.

When the last page came Claire could only stare. In the center was her with a birthday cake, on the top right her and Cas before her first birthday had started and on the bottom left was her and Dean after. Dean was sprawled across a couch fast asleep, while Claire slept on his chest, one of his arms wrapped tightly around her.

Her nose burned, vision blurry as she continued to stare at the photo. Even as the sound of the front door opening came, followed by the creaking of the stairs, she didn’t move.

Why couldn’t she have had that growing up.

Why couldn’t that have been her life.

What’d she do wrong?

“Claire?” She looked up to the bedroom doorway where Cas was stood still in his nurse scrubs, looking the way he always did after work, tired, though that expression quickly dropped into something more concerned as he stepped into the room. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth though nothing came, only a choked sob parting her lips as the tears fell and she finally broke.

Without a word Cas walked forward, gently taking the scrapbook from her hand before he sat on the bed and pulled her into a tight hug letting her sob into his shoulder. She gripped onto the material of his shirt, leaning further into his warmth, as she gasped for breaths. “I- I- I’m- I,” Claire choked through her tears, “I can’t!”

“You cannot what?” Cas asked gently.

She squeezed her eyes shut, listening to the steady breathing of her dad, his hand rubbing small circles on her back as the tears slipped down her cheeks, rolling slower than before. It would hurt him, her fight with Dean, he wanted everything okay and Claire was making it anything but that.

She was single handedly tearing whatever they were apart, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

“I can't- I can’t forgive him,” she finally whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Dean?”

She nodded, “I- he left. He didn’t care enough or I did something wrong or I don’t know-“ Claire clenched her jaw as more tears fell. There was nothing she could do to stop them, she had no energy left, no will, just the dull pain across her chest. “But he left, and he’s going to do it again,” she continued, “and I- I can’t.”

“Dean, he didn’t want to leave,” Cas replied.

“But you don’t just get arrested.”

“Bear,” Cas whispered. He slowly pulled away causing Claire to lift her head, meeting her dad's gaze. His eyes were rimmed red and he had his head tilted to the side as he looked at her with so much pain. Pain she’d caused. “Dean’s arrest- it was not his fault,” Cas began, slowly, “it was a failure of our system’s and a failure of his father’s. Dean only did what he had to and I apologize that you’re facing the consequences.”

Cas raised a hand gently wiping away the tear that rolled down her cheek. “You were his everything,” he continued, “being your dad was the best thing that had ever happened to him.”

The words crushed upon her as she sat motionless, crushed under the pain of things she couldn’t even describe.

“Babies are hard,” Cas said, “there are rules to raising them that know one tells you but expects you to know and I had a hard time with you but Dean,” he pressed his lips together and glanced across the bedroom. “He seemed to know everything. When you woke up at night he would spend hours holding and talking to you.”

He looked back to her, giving a sad smile. “He loved you more than anything,” Cas whispered.

She didn’t move, words, feelings she didn’t know how to explain on the tip of her tongue. Nothing could fix the pain, the damage and scars that had been caused, and part of her wasn’t sure that the future could be fixed either. The pain dug too deep. The doubt had dug too deep, the fear of being hurt again rested in her chest with every breath she took.

She couldn’t do it again, she couldn’t take anymore pain.

“What if he does it again,” Claire whispered, looking down to the blue blankets.

Cas doesn’t reply and Claire pressed her lips together, squeezing her eyes shut as she inhaled before she opened them again. Cas trusted Dean. He trusted Dean with everything he had, and he wanted her to trust him too. She wanted to trust him, but she couldn’t.

“We visited him when you were four,” Cas began, his voice rough. “I’d visited a few times before that, but this was your first time. It was almost a four hour drive and we were only able to stay for ten minutes because of how much you hated being in the visitor Center.” Cas said. “I didn’t blame you, it wasn’t a pleasant place.”

“You’d cried from the moment you arrived until we’d left,” Cas continued. “Me and Dean agreed it was best if only I came to visit, but that didn’t stop him from keeping in contact, he’d write at least once a week to you and it was only when you were twelve and had never written back that he stopped.”

Claire looked up, staring at her dad. Too exhausted to cry. Too in pain to say anything else. She just wanted it over, she didn’t want to have to fix anything, she just wanted it to work.

She leant forward and Cas without hesitation pulled her into a tight hug, letting her bury her face into his shoulder.

“You smell,” she mumbled, as she buried her nose into his clothing where the hospital smell clung.

“And you’re getting snot on my shirt,” Cas replied, causing a smile to tug at her lips. She closed her eyes and Cas brought his hand to her back once again rubbing small circles there.

“Claire,” He said and she squeezed her eyes tighter. Hadn’t they talked enough. “How you and Dean’s relationship continues is your choice, and I love you no matter,” but, “but I want you to know; leaving you was the last thing Dean ever wanted to do.”

A soft knocking came and Claire looked up from her homework and to her bedroom door where Dean stood. He looked unsure, glancing around her bedroom, and Claire didn’t blame him; it'd been two days since their fight and neither of them had talked since, not so much as a good morning. She hadn’t been sure if Dean even wanted to be around her after everything.

She wouldn’t have wanted to be around her.

“Hey,” Dean greated.

“Hey,” Claire replied.

His hand dropped and Claire bit at her lip, “do you mind if I- uh come in?”

Claire shook her head, and Dean walked to her bed, taking a seat on the pink blankets, looking just as unsure as he had in the doorframe. He glanced to her bedside table where the family photo now stood in a new frame Claire had bought the day before and Claire shifted in her desk chair, fiddling with her pencil.

Dean looked back to her and she held her breath.

Whatever he had to say, she knew she wasn’t ready to hear.

“I was hopin’,” Dean began, “if you weren’t busy, we could talk maybe?”

Claire pressed her lips together before giving a small nod of her. “Yah,” she whispered. “Yah, we can do that.”

Dean exhaled, and Claire brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, before chewing at her lip. She wasn’t ready. She wanted to, but she wasn’t ready.

“I’m sorry,” Dean finally said, “I should’ve talked to you about everything the moment I got home, but I just- I wanted to pretend like nothing had happened cause well-” Dean gave a half smile, and Claire gave a small one back. “I’m not good at talking about my feelings and shit, that’s more of Cas’s thing.”

At least they had that in common.

“I- '' Dean continued, shifting in his spot as he looked back to his hands. “I was sentenced under the three strike law,” Dean finally said, “which gets you locked away for a long time for doing jack shit.”

Dean rubbed a hand down his face and Claire swallowed, the ache in her chest rising into her throat. She almost wanted to tell him to stop, the pain across his face, in his voice, so raw she could feel it across every inch of her skin. His lips parted, and eyes never fully meeting hers, instead on her lips or to her right, or simply blank staring forward, as if it hurt too much to do so.

“Growing up my dad wasn’t around a lot,” Dean began, looking to the ground. “He’d leave me and my brother without enough money for the both of us, or sometimes no money at all.”

Claire’s grip around her pencil tightened, the wood digging into the palm of her hand.

“One day, I think I was twenty, my dad just didn’t come back.” Dean wiped the palms of his hands across his eyes and inhaled before he continued speaking. “I had a job but it wasn't enough, so I stole what I could. I got caught a handful of times, but I was lucky and they only recorded three of them, I eventually got my shit together but that didn't clean my record,”

Dean looked up, his gaze meeting hers. His eyes were rimmed red, though gentle as he gave her a soft smile that she forced herself to return. “You were two and Cas always had you wearing the ugliest things, I was embarrassed to be seen with you,” Dean teased in some attempt to ease the tension. “Jack was only a few months old and we’d left you guys with Chuck while we went out to some bar.”

Dean licked his lips, his gaze once again dropping to the floor. “Chuck ended up calling us early, you wouldn’t fall asleep and wanted us home, so Cas went out to the car to talk to you while I paid the bill.” Dean continued, “when I got out these douchebags were being dicks to Cas so I told them to go screw themselves and when they didn’t leave us alone I broke the one guy's nose. I think the second guy ended up with bad bruising and the third went to the hospital with a concussion and some other shit. I ended up with a cracked rib.”

He rubbed the palms of his hands against his jeans before running a hand through his hair. “For the three strike law you need some kind of violent crime, so with the assault and my thefts it was enough for me to get a twenty four years sentence.”

“Still” Dean said, his expression pained though voice somehow steady, “I was lucky, lots of people get a lot longer for a lot less.”

Claire took a shaken breath, unsure how to reply, unsure how to feel, everything around her just seemed to buzz. She licked her lips, gripping the pencil tighter as if it was the only thing keeping her seated, and it might have been.

“And what about…” she began unsure how to continue. Slowly she raised her hand pointing to her right shoulder, as her gaze darted to Dean’s.

He frowned before seeming to understand what she was asking. “My dad, Dean whispered, “we were uh- out camping, he got pissed off and when he came at me I stepped back and into the fire.” He tapped the burn on the top of his left hand, “these ones were from cigarettes and these ones,” Dean brought his hands to his thighs, hesitating for a moment. “Life was shit,” he finally whispered.

He didn’t need to say anything else.

Without a word Claire stood her legs shaking as she moved forward. Mind numb. Her mouth still dry. Her heart beating heavy in her chest. She couldn’t bring herself to speak or even begin to process everything that had been said and instead she sat next to Dean and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I love” Dean whispered, as he held her. There was a crack in his voice that had Claire squeezing her eyes shut, focusing on his warmth. On the way he held back just tight enough to know he wasn’t leaving.

“Im sorry for leaving, I’m sorry for hurting you,” Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head before resting his forehead there, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Claire stopped at the entrance of the kitchen, the room lit by the afternoon sunlight. Dean was sat at the kitchen table, one hand around a beer and both feet propped up on another seat as he read whatever was on his laptop screen.

For a moment she stayed standing at the entrance unsure what to say. It’d been a few weeks since their fight and though things had gotten much better it was still awkward when both Cas and Jack were gone. Neither of them fully knew what to do around the other and though Claire would never admit it to anyone, especially not Dean, she was scared things would never come naturally, that the underlying tension between them would always be there.

“What’re you doing?” She finally asked, staying in her spot with her hands held behind her back.

“Writing my monthly report to my douchebag probation officer,” Dean mumbled, not looking up from the computer. “The jackass still won’t let me go to LA. He’s lucky I can’t own a gun.”

A smile tugged at her lips. “Want me to kick his ass?” Claire offered.

“No.” Dean looked up with a smile across his own lips as he mouthed ‘yes’. “Violence doesn’t get you shit,” he continued before mouthing ‘do it’.

Claire looked to the ground, her bare feet cold against the kitchen tiles as her fingers fiddled with the paper she held behind her back. The words were on the tip of her tongue yet she couldn’t bring herself to whisper them. Her mouth dry and a heat crawling up her neck.

It’d be fine.

She just had to do it.

“I,” she finally began looking back up to Dean who was already looking at her. “I- um, I made you something.”

Dean didn’t say anything and Claire took that as an invitation to step into the kitchen. Nothing was better than no, or at least she hoped so.

Slowly she brought the painting out from behind her back and offered it to Dean. He took the painting from her hand, his gaze wandering over the paper. She’d repainted a photo she’d taken when they’d gone cliff jumping, just as the forest has opened up to the cliff side, with the water peaking over the cliffs where it met the sky in the horizon.

It wasn’t her best work, by far, water colour was hard with some of the colours blurring in spots, and the sun rays had been difficult to paint, yet she hoped Dean would at least appreciate the gesture.

And maybe not laugh at her.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered and Claire chewed her lip as a smile spread across Dean’s face. “You made this?” He asked looking up as Claire nodded, “for me?” She nodded again.

Dean stared at her for a moment, before he looked back to the painting and quickly wiped a hand across his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“You like it?”

“Like it?” Dean asked, looking back to her. His eyes were glazed over and Claire chewed at her lip.“I love it, it’s awesome.”

Dean walked to their refrigerator and Claire couldn’t help but smile as Dean hung the painting with a few magnets before taking a step back to study it. “Shit,” Dean said, grinning back to her, “Michelangelo better which out.”

Claire laughed.

This was what she’d always wanted, and maybe she didn’t have it at first but like hell she was going to let it go.

She stepped forward, raising her arms for a hug and without hesitation Dean pulled her into one. His arms were tight around her waist, as she leant into his warmth, her arms around his neck and chin rested against his shoulder. “Thank you,” Dean whispered, the emotion clear in his voice.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut, her grip around the other tightening.

Things weren’t perfect but that didn’t matter, because they were going to be okay.

#Destiel #Destiel fanfic #destiel one shot #dean winchester #castiel #claire novak #parent!destiel #Jack Kline

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ugly-anastasia · 3 years ago

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The Last 10 Years | Oneshot

Note: for the October Jekyll and Hyde task (write a one-shot featuring your character as first the protagonist and then the antagonist) I had an idea to try and tell Annie and Charlie’s story in the style of the musical The Last Five Years, since that is kind of the goal of that show’s storytelling style. Basically the premise is the same story told from two different perspectives, one in chronological order and the other in reverse-chronological order. Just wanted to clarify that in case the format is confusing. Enjoy!

Warnings for: alcohol, references to hazing, lots of messy/unhealthy relationship dynamics, misogyny, some nsfw topics

2021, Annie

The last time Anastasia Tremaine saw Charles King, he was shimmering.

The morning light got in her eyes, Tennessee June out in all its glory as Annie loaded the last box into the Uber that would take her to the airport. Out of the corner of her eye, Annie could see Charlie bending down to give Harlynne and Jaxson each one last hug. The early summer sunshine seemed to sparkle on his Dri-Fit Vanderbilt Tennis shirt because of course it did. The world seemed to part for Charlie King and everything that made Annie squint and stumble and fall just painted him in brighter glory.

It was what she had always liked about him, wasn’t it? That she could look at him and see the sun? Annie’s life had always been defined by the people she surrounded herself with. Rodmilla Tremaine’s screechy daughter, Ella Ashbourne’s bitchy stepsister with the bad fake tan, and then Charlie King’s perky young wife.

Maybe that was her mistake from the beginning. How was she going to define herself now?

2011, Charlie

The first time Charles King saw Anastasia Tremaine, she was shimmering.

Literally. Covered in silver sparkles. The glitter bomb was a new ritual to welcome the Alpha Phi pledges, replacing the traditional surprise Jägerbomb after a lengthy hazing investigation that left the sisters scrambling to replace their traditions with those less explicitly related to alcohol. Of course, it was the first mixer of the year, so alcohol of all kinds was flowing through the Kappa Alpha house, just with enough plausible deniability to say that technically nobody underage was encouraged to drink.

Luckily for the majority of the attendees at this mixer, they tended to have the kind of connections to get a good enough lawyer to get out of that stuff.

Charlie saw Annie sparkling as she stood on the coffee table and glitter rained down on her, shrieking in disgust (but maybe soaking up the attention just a little bit). And he knew that was his girl. She was attractive in a self-conscious kind of way, with her long legs and big nose, like maybe she was afraid she stuck out too much. It was easy to see through fake freshman confidence, and Charlie could already see her posh British accent impressing his parents.

He hung back. He didn’t say anything yet. But Charlie had a feeling he would run into Annie Tremaine again.

2019, Annie

It was really quite plain and simple: Charlie was cheating.

Annie believed she was justified in going through his phone, because he was cheating. The signs were everywhere. He was always “going out to happy hour” after work even though he hadn’t been interested in “happy hour” since he’d started at the accounting firm six years ago. He seemed distracted lately. And his little icon always dropped off of the map on Find My Friends the same time every day.

So when Charlie was in the shower, Annie reached across the bed and unlocked his phone. Unknown number.

Tonight again?

No, not tonight

When??? 😩😩😩

Tomorrow?

Ur gonna make me wait until tomorrow

The anticipation will make it sweeter 😉

And there was her proof. “CHARLIE!” Annie roared, jumping out of bed and pounding on the shower door. She was justified. She had-- what was it they called it on those police procedurals? Probable cause? Annie had probable cause. Charlie came stumbling out of the shower, wrapping the towel around him and looking at her blearily. “Whaa-”

“Explain this!”

Charlie just stared at her. “Did you go through my phone?”

2013, Charlie

The plain and simple explanation was that Annie asked Charlie out.

Two years after that first party where they locked eyes, after Annie had attracted a few whispers for stumbling through some on-off relationships with the more sensitive of the KA brothers, Annie went right up to Charlie at homecoming and asked him out. Charlie didn’t plan on getting tied down to a college girl right after he graduated. And no, he didn’t leverage any kind of power he might have had, because Annie had just applied for an internship at the accounting firm he and his father both worked at. That was her choice. Wasn’t that what feminism was all about or something?

Annie asked Charlie out with the brazen confidence of a brand new Co-Chair of Philanthropy, a confidence she would confess, taking a sip of her cosmo, actually came from Charlie’s encouragement. Last spring, right before graduation, Charlie had told Annie to go after her dreams, and Annie had decided that her dreams lied with Charlie King.

That was what Charlie had to explain to people when they raised eyebrows at his relationship with Annie. She had asked him out. It was even possible she was playing him to get her foot in the door at the firm. Right?

2015, Charlie and Annie

Charlie and Annie had a fight the night before their wedding. It started at the rehearsal dinner, when Charlie’s best man, a lanky KA brother named Ross, got into a tiff with Drizella over something political, and then Annie whispered to Charlie to shut him up, and Charlie didn’t, and now they were in their individual hotel rooms, shouting at each other on the phone.

“He’s my friend, Annie, I don’t control him!”

“I’m not asking you to control him, but you could have pulled him for a chat! Told him to tone it down!”

“Annie, why would that--”

“You have no problem doing that with me when I’m being a bitch! And I’ve done it with you when you’re being stupid! What’s the difference?”

“Annie, I--”

“I know why. It’s because you care more about fitting in with your stupid friends than you care about me! Grow up, Charlie, you’re getting bloody married!”

“Annie!”

Silence.

“Look, Annie, I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t travel back in time and do it different.”

“I want you to say you’re sorry!”

“Alright, Annie, I’m sorry.”

More silence. For a moment, Annie had a burning feeling that something might not be right. On the other side of the wall, Charlie had the same feeling.

They both wrote it off as cold feet. And the next day, they had a beautiful wedding, and it even made the society pages, and Annie had never gotten so many likes on Instagram. And Charlie’s mother was proud. And the fight was forgotten.

Until it wasn’t.

2013, Annie

Annie asked Charlie out because her mother said she should, and because her friends said that he was a sweet guy but he would never make the first move, and because a cute self-help book she had read said that if Annie didn’t take control of her destiny now, destiny would take control of her. Annie was a strong woman, and Charlie was cute and well-connected, and maybe he was a lot older, but that was the kind of man Annie wanted, anyway. Someone mature. Someone who wouldn’t walk out when things got hard. Charlie seemed steady.

And yes, maybe she told him that she had gotten her confidence from his little drunken pep talk that he gave her right before he graduated, even though that wasn’t really true. And maybe she faked it the first time they hooked up... and the second and third time, too. And maybe Annie swore she listened to all of his mixtapes, even when she found them quite boring. Men had fragile little egos, and Annie knew she could use that to her advantage.

It didn’t matter, because at the end of things, Annie knew that she and Charlie would be perfect together. What was a little white lie here and there, a little corner cutting? It was destiny and she was just helping it along.

2019, Charlie

Cheating didn’t look good. It never did. Charlie had a kid, and another on the way, and a wife who was perfect on paper. Ross’s stare across the table at Buffalo Wild Wings (an old heartbreak haunt from the Vandy days) said all of that. But Charlie believed he deserved some sympathy.

“She’s crazy, man!” Charlie argued.

“Charlie, you’re not supposed to call women crazy anymore. Erica--”

“I don’t care what bullshit Erica read on TheSkimm!”

“Charlie! That’s my wife you’re talking about!”

“Sorry,” Charlie grumbled, biting into his buffalo wing morosely. “But I think if she was paranoid enough that I was cheating on her that she had to go through my phone, then there’s a bigger problem. And, I’m just saying, she could’ve just asked me.”

“And you would have told her the truth?”

Charlie hmphed and threw the bone down on his plate, reaching for another wing.

2011, Annie

The first time Annie saw Charlie, it was from behind.

But what a glorious back of his head it was! Thick chestnut-brown hair, gelled into a perfect side part but not too much that it couldn’t be tousled a little. A pink golf shirt-- there was nothing like a man who knew how to dress. And he was moving with purpose, with animation, like he knew he was the brightest star in the room and everyone around him was so lucky to bask in his light.

He was the shimmering outline of a boy you could fill in with all your hopes. And the other girls had told Annie to stay away from the older boys, that they would play with your heart and drop you by Christmas to ring-by-spring a girl more their speed. But Annie could see the pieces clicking into place. She had been raised to believe if you worked hard and wanted something badly enough and if you weren’t afraid to get your hands a little dirty, you could have whatever you wanted. And Annie wanted this. Badly.

Annie was tired of standing in the shadows. She wanted to attach herself to a boy who commanded the light, so she could shine, too. And she had finally found him.

2021, Charlie

The last time Charlie saw Annie, it was from behind, as she climbed into the car and didn’t bother to give him one last wave before speeding down the highway with the life he had spent the past ten years building.

Annie had gotten everything she wanted in the divorce. It was hard to sympathize with a cheater, especially one who already seemed to have a backup life ready to go as soon as his ex wife and kids were out of the way. Charlie didn’t really feel that way. He mostly resented Annie for blowing this up the way she had, turning one little affair into a marriage-shattering event, fleeing the country with both kids in tow. Charlie didn’t care what Ross said. She was crazy.

Mostly, Charlie mourned what could have been. He could have gone on having it all. He was doing a good job of balancing it. And he had been raised to believe that if he just managed everything tactfully enough, he could skate through life unencumbered, with nobody to say no to what he wanted. For the first time, he couldn’t. And it made Charlie livid.

But maybe it was time for a fresh start. He had Jenna, his beautiful girlfriend. He had his house, still. He had his Nashville friends, who had eventually come around to agree with Charlie that he was in the right (and Charlie believed that they liked Jenna better, anyway).

The worst thing that Annie had done, Charlie decided, was think too highly of him. He wasn’t a man of principle or honor, he just projected that image in the settings where it was necessary. And she had been naive enough to believe in that.

Charlie went back in the house and pulled up Jenna’s contact on his phone. From now on, he wasn’t going to lie about the kind of man he was. And hopefully, that would prevent him from repeating this whole mess over again.

#this was interesting bc i intended to make each character seem sympathetic from their own pov but tbh i think each character is LESS #sympathetic from their own POV #idk what that means but interesting #also i intended to make them equally sympathetic but tbh i don't know if i pulled that off lol #the more i wrote charlie the harder it was to justify anything he did even from his pov lol #but i think annie did some unsympathetic things too #anyway i tRIED MY BEST #idk how much i pulled it off but it was a challenging and fun exercise #bdrptask

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the-magic-lava-lamp · 4 years ago

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Caught Up In You

Chapter 3 - A Very Loki Chapter

Summary: A story revolving around a group of teenage friends, their mishaps, their relationships and their coming of age.

Watch as they navigate through the highs & lows of high school relationships and learn to grow up as most of them are approaching the end of their Senior year.

Ships: SamBucky, ThorBruce, Stony, ValJane…(More ships & characters to come)

Word Count: 6,497

{Wednesday Night}

The thick rim of sweat which wrapped around Loki’s ankle was finally given fresh air as he kicked off one of his old sneakers.

The night was over; Thor had gone to his room with a joyful grin and ice-cream dotting the corner of his mouth and Wanda had been dropped off at home. Which was an event all on it’s own. While waiting in line at the happy little Frosty’s store-front, Wanda’s Mother called and asked her home to see her Grandparents who’d dropped by as a surprise.

Loki was irritated with the abrupt change of plans and Wanda’s angst about it only fueled him on. But Thor managed to make the little time they had left kinda fun. Paying for their treats and scrolling through the multiple snapchats he had of Loki doing weird shit to compete with Wanda’s captured moments.

And Loki was never one to shy away from being the center of attention, so he was absolutely delighted.

But now, his face was overcast with that tiny sheen of moisture which made his makeup heavy. Really hammering it in that he’d gone out & done all he could for the day with nothing left but to do but try and sleep.

He swiped remover down his face with a cotton pad and revealed in the euphoric sense of relief instead of focusing on the slight disappointment which always came.

Half his face was clean, one shiny green eye gone while the other still glittered under the flickering bathroom light, when Odin knocked on the bathroom door in his special way. One thump.

“In here.” He called out, filled with a little teenage venom.

Odin huffed a bit before speaking. “Can I just pee really quick?”

Loki turned to scrunch his face at the wooden door, where an eight year old Thor had once proclaimed he saw an image of a turtle between the lines. He rolled his lips together and popped out his leg before reaching out and unlocking the door. “Fine.”

He’d try to avoid the bickering match by giving him what he wanted & tried to speed past his father before he got a good look at him. But Odin managed a quick peek. “Interesting.” He hummed in that condescending tone that he always argued was just his regular voice.

Loki frowned and remembering that if he quipped back, fighting would escalate and Odin would just say shit he didn’t understand was offensive.

But the flickering light and sense of suburban ‘comfort’ was driving him insane all of the sudden. He blinked and spun to grab the door with his special grace. “You like it, father?” He smirked in a way that he’d once seen one Tony Stark do to his father in the school parking lot last year. It’d been an expression which stuck with him. The perfect mixture of innocent and bitchy. That had really bubbled Loki’s old crush on the arrogant guy.

Odin shifted, either from the fact that he hadn’t pissed yet or the nerves he always got when talking to his younger son. They both pretended that didn’t exist for a few years now.

“Lovely.” He tried to mutter out without sounding annoyed but he really wasn’t good at that. “Did you go out like..that?”

Loki smirked slightly, as if that didn’t bother him, and tore his gaze to the stupid framed painting of a bathtub which hung on the wall. “I’m sorry to have embarrassed you.”

“Don’t be snotty with me, Loki. I didn’t mean it like that and you should know that.” Odin shook his head which only served to truly piss his son off further.

“Oh of course, you’ve been rather happy with my behavior lately. Just admit that you can’t accept it-”

“Well, I’m not exactly ecstatic, son. I never have understood you." Odin burst, for the first time voicing some kind of confession to the feelings Loki basically already knew of...But it still hurt him. Loki stepped back a little, losing some of his confidence.

Odin frowned but took the opportunity to shut the bathroom door to escape.

Loki stared at the door, a little winded and suddenly overwhelmed with bitterness.

There was a full length mirror in his bedroom which Loki used to remove the rest of his makeup. It worked out very poorly considering all he had to clean it off with was a dish towel and some water he poured into Thor’s lame childhood baseball team trophy. He’d stolen it a few weeks ago from his older brother's room and he’d yet to notice it’s disappearance, sadly.

There was a tiny knock on his door which couldn't possibly be Odin, so Loki gave them permission to enter as he scrubbed his left eye. He’d sort of expected his Mother but was greeted with the gentle looking giant called Thor. Of course.

Loki turned his chin to look at him over his shoulder. “These kinds of moments are a little too ‘sitcom trying to tackle serious subjects’ for me, Thor. So, I’d rather not have a heart-to-heart, ok?” He smirked and turned back to the mirror, watching his brother’s reflection as he sat on his bed.

Thor rolled his eyes but looked somewhat amused. “I think we’re quite better at the ‘heart-to-heart’s than those dumb shows.” He glanced down at Loki’s reflection and smirked right back.

“I don’t know about better. But, we are far more entertaining.” Loki chuckled, remembering a few times where their nice talks ended with fun playful punching. “This is between father and I, Thor. You couldn’t possibly get it.” He frowned and finally turned his whole body. “The man thinks the world of you.”

Thor stiffened slightly.

“Anyone can see you're his favorite.” Loki shook his head with sudden anger. “Hela moved as far as she did because of him. And he can barely stand to look at me. I can see it in the way he looks at me. Complete and utter...embarrassment.”

“Father has a complicated way of showing his love-”

Loki felt his chest burn with the sudden urge to argue until he couldn’t breathe. “Not with you. Never with you.” He spat and threw his crappy towel onto the carpet. “He has some kind of personal issue against me, brother. Don’t act like it’s not there cause that just...drives me crazy.” His voice grew more tiresome than he would’ve liked and he deflated a bit.

“He likes to pretend Wanda’s my little girlfriend because he doesn’t like the fact that I’m so obviously attracted to men too! And it’s not even because he’s against the idea of having a queer son-” Loki stumbled on his words because he was barely sure how he identified, himself. “If you were to bring home Banner, he’d be waving the flag! I’d bet my life on it.”

He stood and started pacing his floor while Thor watched him go.

“But because I didn’t turn out to be someone who could pass as a straight, manly jock to family and friends, he despises me.” Loki looked up to the ceiling in frustration.

Thor was stunned to silence, not used to seeing his brother so distraught. Green glitter was still smudged and wet over Loki’s eye and he was doing his best to never make eye contact. “I know it’ll probably frustrate you and mother but...” Loki paused and rolled his lips together “I’m not going to fight for a relationship with him if he won’t even meet me halfway.”

“Brother...” Thor stood from the bed and took the way Loki moved back with embarrassment to notice. “I am always going to be in your corner, you know that right?” He asked.

Loki looked as if he didn’t know how to respond which absolutely crushed his older brother. “I haven’t always made it easy for you so...why should I think that?” He shrugged.

Thor swallowed, feeling as if he’d just gulped burning tea. “I think the world of you, Loki.” He shrugged because that answer was just so simple. No matter how many times they fought, Thor loved his brother.

Loki looked down at the carpet before letting out a long sigh. “Ok. I’m uncomfortable and would like to get the rest of this shit off my face and maybe watch a film.” He rubbed hard into his left eye and glanced at Thor. “You can watch too but you have to stop talking.”

Thor smiled and did a mock salute.

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

{Thursday Morning}

Loki rested his head on Wanda’s shoulder; her chin resting on the tufts of his hair. Her glance was desperately pointed downwards, eyes strained as she still couldn’t help but try and look at her friend as he spoke. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” She frowned and Loki softly smiled. “If it helps, my Grandma spent the whole evening asking me about boys and trying to give me tips on how to ‘Snag the best kind of fellow’.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “I doubt she was that...nineteen-fifties about it, Wanda.” He pursed his lips, taking in her most subdued outfit of the week. He’d been pretending not to notice her ‘subtle’ evolution from complete ‘middle school witch’ to a ‘maybe hippie girl’?

Wanda hummed. “I don’t like her, Loki.” She shook her head a little (best as she could). “All she does is talk about Neil Sedaka and say offensive things that we’re just supposed to ignore.”

Loki giggled in a way that not most people could get him to.

She chuckled into his hair. “She did ask about you though. My little friend from school, very condescending about it by the way.” Wanda momentarily raised her head and twisted down to look at him. “I told her you died but I kept a vial of your blood on a necklace.” Her voice seamlessly fell into a casual tone.

Loki hummed in a sinister little chuckle. “You’re such a freak.”

Wanda pinched him.

“So...” Loki got up from the bench. “How do you snag the fellow?” He teased.

Wanda popped up after him and started to reluctantly follow his motions to get to class. “Just the usual steps. Y’know pass him by in the hallway, let him carry your books...” She delicately tapped each of her fingers as she walked.

“Stand in the corner of the room & cry so he asks what’s wrong, sit on a park bench & feed pigeons, take a piece of his hair to put in a traditional love-bringing fire-”

Loki pushed her arm and laughed when she stumbled.

“Don’t knock it till you try it.” She bumped him back and hugged her books to her chest. “Why do you think I’m constantly pushing away attention?” She sarcastically put her hand to her chest and smirked.

“They make me nervous.” Wanda complained as she took the familiar steps up to the Odinson’s door. Loki rolled his eyes and dug around for his key.

Thor was inviting his old buddies over for a little after-school hang-out which Loki was 100% sure was just an attempt for Thor to distract himself from agonizing over Bruce. Loki’s brother was not subtle about hiding his feelings, even if he thought so. “They’re idiots, Wanda. Nothing to stress over. All you have to do is walk past them and go to the kitchen. They won’t bother you.”

Wanda crossed her arms and took off for the other room as soon as the door opened, neglecting to greet Thor or his friends in the living room. Though Loki moved a bit more slowly as he shut the entry & observed the group of jocks. He saved his most annoyed look for Sif, who’d always seemed annoyed with him.

Even with the strange time without seeing that company in their home, Loki was a master at ignoring them.

“Loki! Look who’s here!” Thor was quite joyous with the mini reunion But. Loki just rolled his eyes and went for the kitchen where Wanda was setting up their books to study. Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral and Sif gave the little brother tiny nods before he’d managed to escape but weren’t given a response.

Sif pursed her lips. “He hasn’t changed much.” She scooted closer to the table from her seat on the carpet. They surrounded the furniture like a group of poker players, bits of schoolwork littered it and circled the fake-fruit bowl. “Nor his little friend.” She smiled softly.

“I suppose the ice is part of his charm though.” Fandral added, throwing a plastic apple up-and-down with his trademark smirk. “Wouldn’t very well be Loki without it, Don’t you think?”

Thor observed his old friend's conversation with warm nostalgia in his chest. While it was endearing to see them all laughing & talking in his living room like they’d used to, Thor’s mind still drifted nervously to his plans with Bruce the next day.

While Thor was overthinking and the others chatted, Sif managed to get up and slip into the kitchen without much notice. Fandral’s apple now hanging loosely in her grip while she walked to the fridge.

Loki didn’t so much as look up at the presence he knew was there but that little friend of his did. Her expression was hard to read.

In her head, Wanda was agonizing over the idea of whether she was supposed to say ‘hi’ or not. Sure, she knew of Sif but she didn’t really know her. They’d just cross paths sometimes in the Odinson household when they were younger. But she was standing in the kitchen now-...though Loki wasn’t even moving and surely if she should greet the girl then so would she.

“I have to go to the bathroom.” She absolutely despised that she announced that to the room but at least she could then leave. Which she did.

Wanda darted off which finally pulled Loki’s attention from his books with a twitch of his brow.

“Guess I made her nervous, huh?” Sif’s charmed voice came from behind Loki. She moved around the table to stand awkwardly in front of him, hands oddly resting on her hips. There was an intense feeling of effort in the interaction which made Loki even more annoyed. Sif was a freaking jock. She’d been one all her life and the only reason she felt the need to be nice to him was because of Thor’s begging.

“She’s not attracted to you, bonehead. Your presence just gave her such social anxiety that she then had to use the bathroom as an excuse to leave. She’ll be hiding there until you’re gone.” The dark haired man spoke smoothly as he flipped through pages.

“Which-” He finally glanced up at Sif and made a show of folding his hands together “I hope it will be soon. Now that you’ve gotten the...coffee creamer you needed so badly?” His thin brow jumped up.

Sif really hadn’t been paying attention to what she was grabbing. She simply missed the days of annoying Thor’s little brother by mere existence plus hell if Wanda wasn’t adorable. She smirked and tossed the creamer from palm to palm while obnoxiously observing Loki’s work. She came closer and rested against the counter. “Still as kind as ever, Loki.”

The younger boy looked up and met his eye in an oddly amused way. “Still as back-handed as ever, Sif.” He scrunched up his nose and shut the Chemistry book he’d been pretending to read.

The girl just grinned as she straightened his back, finding the bite to be sentimental. All the times she’d teased the quiet boy whenever she passed Loki in her best friend's home, sitting on the ottoman by himself, to get Kool-Aid (or whatever the hell they were drinking in middle-school) popped back into her mind. “You do possess the ability to be nice, y’know that?”

Loki hummed, flipping his pen around in his hand. Those fingers moving quickly yet gracefully was somehow mesmerizing. “Yeah but you’re not worth the effort.” He flicked his tongue and went back to writing.

Sif nodded, as if the reaction was expected and went back to her friends because maybe Loki wasn’t worth her effort.

Once she was gone, Loki shoved himself out of the chair and trudged over to the bathroom door with a bit of an amused smile. His knuckles burned slightly as he tapped insistently against the white wood currently keeping him from his absurd friend. “Wanda, dear? You’re free to come out.” He hummed happily.

There was a quiet thrush of water from the sink and some shuffling but the door remained closed for another minute or two. It gave Loki the time to pause...and maybe think about the other night. He’d come to expect that disgusting attitude from Odin but that didn’t take away the sharp pain it put in his chest everytime he put another back-handed comment on the table. Damn if Loki didn’t keep a tiny bit of hope for change. “Did you decide to take a nap on the linoleum, Wanda?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.” She finally answered, voice thick and unamused.

So much so that Loki whistled, putting his hands up in a mock surrender as he backed away from the door. Just in time for his friend to pop out with that smug little nose-scrunch smile of hers. However Loki didn’t miss the slick way she shoved her phone into her back-pocket. He cocked an eyebrow, arms crossing elegantly over his chest. “Who were you talking to?”

“Nobody. I was peeing and hiding from Thor’s friends.”

“Then let me see your call history.”

Wanda scowled. “No, Loki.” She shook her head and stomped past him, beginning a dance of irritation. She’d lead into a step only to have Loki block and counter it, pretending to be doing something of importance that just so happened to be in her way. It only lasted so long.

When Loki reached over her body to get the cookie jar, that conniving little smile on his face, Wanda couldn’t help it. She pushed his arm back with a bit more force than intended and watched him stumble with heat in her stomach. “Are you so arrogant that you can't understand you’re annoying me so much right now?” Venom in her tone for sure but Wanda was a master remaining unsettlingly pleasant even when angry.

“Oh please, spare the dramatics.” Loki rolled his eyes. “It did seem like you were growing tired of me.” He spat a little too bitterly. Wanda turned, leaning back on the counter. Her outfit annoyingly consisted of flare jeans which dragged against the floor.

“Loki.” She frowned, moving towards the table. “We’re soul-siblings-” She gently poked his shoulder with one finger. “Just because I’m dressing a little differently doesn’t mean I’m becoming someone else.”

Exceedingly embarrassed, Loki looked off to the side. “So tell me who you were talking to.” It was pitifully childish but something about his best friend, who often openly gushed and giggled over boys, being so suddenly secretive about a phone-call was bothering him. It had to be someone she liked. He knew her tell-tale signs...that and he swore he’d heard a muffled giggle from behind the damn bathroom door.

“Fine.” Wanda shook her head once more and handed over the phone.

#i found this in my drafts lol!#so i finished it!#:)#loki odinson #loki and wanda #wanda maximoff #caught up in you #marvel #MCU #my fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #Scarlet Witch #The Avengers #Marvel Comics

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budugaapologist · 5 years ago

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when you are reading this rant take full offense its 2am here and im mad as hell

fair warning this post is long as fuck and has several arguments pertaining to specific peeves i need to rant about before i go crazy. if you're not interested just keep scrolling it's not hard it's literally the core of social media navigation

you know what? ima say it.

black flag is the best ac game and deserves more recognition than just pirate drinking jokes because:

nearly every named character (sorry burgess and cockram) has development and personalities. cant say that for that many others in other games.

not too much fucking shit to do in it (unlike uhhhhhhhh every fucking other game in the franchise. stop it. i dont need 500 treasure chests in arno's game he already has an excellent revenue with the cafe. i dont need a ton of side quests. i dont need 30+ chests per london burough. i dont need a million question marks on my map. i dont need all of egypt or greece to be littered with shit to do. fuck this.).

unlocking shit is so much easier. edward knows where every treasure chest is and doesnt pay for treasure maps. and literally unlocking shit is so much easier.

base is slept on. its fucking cool. its fucking fun. its fucking useful as shit. its fucking pretty as all hell. fuck you.

good story, fun story, great dlc, relatable story (unless youre some bootlicking cowardly rich cunt) emotional story but not depressing (unity im looking at your ending. origins stop killing children.), satisfying end.

i can do the combat with one hand. you know what that means? i can eat and drink without pausing. i can reply to text messages without pausing. i can pet my dogs and cats while playing.

main character actually has changed by the end of the game a vast amount. motherfucker, edward changed more in his antó mission than ezio did in his trilogy.

if you dont complete all objectives you still have a passing score on the mission. do you know what its like to be raised to only get good grades on stuff and see yourself getting a 60% on a thing thats supposed to be a pass time just because you forgot something.

the naval combat isnt hard you just need practice. also i know the hunter ship sucks in the first mission you encounter but literally drop your sails but hold the wheel. once its in view let go. swim to it. take out the crew. swim back. bada bing bada boom go oneshot the crew. incredible, you're safe now.

legendary ship battles are really fucking cool and my mom doesnt yell at me for killing a giant beast for next to nothing.

the sea shanties and tavern songs slap.

farm animal petting simulator. not forced to kill dogs (ac3, odyssey).

obviously its good if the other games are just gonna copy paste it.

ed's tattoos are sick.

edward is literally the first canon bisexual. he literally says so in game. he literally fucking flirts with blackbeard. he literally was a pirate. why the fuck do you think birate is such an accurate pun.

diving outfit.

thicc.

the female characters dont have titties all over the place. even anne's boobs arent that big, which is good considering she is underage. the same cannot be said for many of the women in ezio's games.

guess who has a solid, interesting, and realistic personality. not kassandra or alexios thats for sure.

he is NOT moved by man pain (ezio, connor, bayek) to carry out his missions. he didn't want to be poor, he wanted to be able to provide for his family. he is just carrying out his dream to sail a ship. when he starts being "good", he is doing it out of guilt and shame on his past self (what, self reflection? someone, teach jacob this term), not because "wahh my girlfriend/mom/child/family died :'(", he wanted to make it up to his lost friends by making them proud and doing what they wished he had done. his regrets are in not being a better friend while mary was alive, not seeking out her killers (guards at fort). thatch's death crushed him, but he didn't thrust his anger on seeking revenge. and the characters that did die? they had personalities and development and were interesting and memorable. i cant tell you shit about cristina.

he is very respecting of women, especially for a white guy from the 1600s. he, as a teenager (under 17 i believe), attempted to save a woman he did not know and had no intentions of wooing (hey um ezio? you literally only were able to save cristina from being raped because you stalked her because you thought she was attractive. like thanks for saving her but uhh am i the only one that finds that creepy?) even though the odds of winning against three older men were stacked against him and he knew they could (and almost did) beat him to death. fuck if caroline wasnt there he would've been killed.

the modern day stuff is an excellent way to separate intense scenes and the little mini hacking games are fun puzzles. oh boohoo desmond isn't there? yes he was, half the things you hack literally give you desmond content.

rebecca's outfit fucking slaps.

from experience, its fun to play even if you dont know shit about the other ac games. pirates are cool and the story is easy to follow, just be prepared to find some of the other endings big letdowns or lots of the other games' missions boring.

is that fanservice that goes both ways but doesnt oversexualize any gender? why yes, it is!

stop reducing black flag to alcoholism jokes like yall constantly fucking do, it has so many other talking points and if you wanna make fun of something maybe choose something that isnt addiction. literally i make fun of edward constantly without pointing out his alcoholism it isnt that hard. if you're gonna make fun of edward for drinking rum when water in the 1700s often wasnt safe and making fun of him when he was depressed (he has multiple other intended self harming behaviors shown in game so no, he wasnt just drinking because its fun), why don't i see the same "wHy is aLL tHe WiNE gONe?" posts for arno? he was an alcoholic too. in fact arno and edward have a lot of the same forms of depression but oh, arno's a more serious character personality wise and isn't a pirate so his grieving isn't as funny.

and like, there are plenty of other things to make fun of with edward that might not make light of alcoholism because no, edward's drinking in the main story was not written to be a joke. here, a list of things i regularly make fun of him for:

this highwaisted man's got feminine hips

there is no reason for him to be that thicc

his bangs are a mess

his hair???? glows???? okay rapunzel.

his tatts that are just lines

actually you know what his tatts in general what do they mean ubisoft what even language are the words on his body in

how this whore opens the bottled messages on the beach. "ah yes, let me put this mysterious item in my mouth. i have no idea where its been. i could very well open it to read a note that says "i pissed on this""

"woman i just met... must respect her.. man i just met... im either going to give you a death threat, tease you, or flirt... sometimes multiple choices will be done......"

i mean he had the full right to be a bastard to walpole on the beach since he did try to be friendly but walpole was being to bitchy and needy. and like them being stranded wasnt edward's fault but walpole was still gonna make him build a ship and there is no reason for edward to trust walpole since after they get to havana he can easily just be like "thats a pirate, hang him." but like. the way he just immediately decides to steal his identity. legend.

why does he just blindly follow older men's orders like that

he trims his beard to a very odd location. i know it isn't a flattering pose but like. look at the underside of his jaw.

"how many references to dog behavior can we put in one character"

phobia of sleeping in a bed

"you saved my life i am eternally grateful."

edward are you seriously arguing with your eight year old daughter about the difference between a boat and a ship

where are your tanlines

how did he not die of skin cancer first

edward probably doesnt have any body hair because ubisoft didnt want his legs to glow in the dark too

look at his marooned outfit. bitch what the fuck is on your shirt. and where are your hair ties.

his dramatic beauty guru smokey eyes

he held that sword by the blade in the single madman quest. wh

anyway, the long run of this is, if you're gonna reblog an edward post from me specifically to make fun of an overused joke, go fuck yourself.

#edward #ac4 #i talk #assassins creed #im tired #and im tired of it!#im not saying to make fun of arno's alcoholism btw #just... just because edward tends to behave a little happier doesnt mean he is #both these men are depressed but like fuck mental disorders i guess

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dangerouselove-blog · 5 years ago

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This is No Time for Romance

Chapter 4

Tom Holland Bodyguard!AU

Warnings: toxic relationship, violence

Word Count: 1700

“Would you mind staying here tonight? I’m just still a little shaken up.”

Tom thought your bashfulness was adorable and couldn’t help but smile. It made your heart flutter. “Of course I will.”

You were woken by sunlight filtering through the window, shining into your eyes. Squinting, you rolled over to peer at the clock on your bedside table. It read 8:52 am. It seemed like such a normal morning, you thought last night must have just been a bad dream. You sat up and stretched before walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. On the way, you saw the hole in the wall Kurt made, confirming that everything that happened was in fact real. The memory made you shudder slightly.

I don’t know how I’m going to explain that to my landlord, you thought. As you rounded the corner into the living room, you nearly choked on the water.

“Oh, good morning princess.” There was Tom, lounging shirtless on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

“Good morning,” you manage. This wasn’t the first time you’d noticed how muscular he is, but it was definitely the first time you fully appreciated it. It took a lot of effort to tear your eyes away from his abs, but luckily he didn’t seem to notice.

Tom stood up and stretched. “I was planning on running some errands this morning. Care to join?”

His invitation surprised you, but you were happy about the offer. “Why would you want me to come along?”

“Well, love, I’m getting paid to watch you. It’d be a bit irresponsible if I just left you alone to go shopping now wouldn’t it?” He gave you a cheeky grin and reached for his shirt. As he pulled it down over his head he continued. “I know you have your Saturday morning routine, so I was thinking we could do that then head downtown, if that’s alright with you.”

It was sweet that he wanted to respect your routine. You smiled and agreed to go with him, then headed to your room to get dressed. In the mirror you could see purple bruises had formed on your neck. Unfortunately, you had plenty of experience covering up bruises and it didn’t take long before they were barely visible under your makeup.

---

The crisp air filled your lungs as you and Tom made your way to the cafe. Your thoughts drifted back to Kurt, and those men who attacked you, wondering if it was in any way connected. And what was Tom planning to do with them all?

These thoughts were pushed to the back of your mind as he pushed open the door to the cafe and walked in. Haley looked up and did an incredibly bad job hiding her surprise at you and Tom showing up together. She finally composed herself and said, “G-good morning! Will it be the usual for you both?”

“Yes, please,” he answered, fishing for his wallet. He pulled out some cash and handed it to your friend. “I’m paying for hers as well.” Haley shot you a look before accepting the bills. Tom walked away from the counter, pretending to take an intense interest in a bulletin board hanging on the wall.

Haley leaned over to you and whispered, “Is there something you need to tell me?”

You shrugged and tried to act casual. “We kept seeing each other around so he decided to introduce himself.”

“You two showed up at 9 am to a coffee shop within walking distance of your apartment. There’s only one explanation for that.” She gave you a knowing smile, causing you to roll your eyes.

“We didn’t sleep together. We’re just hanging out.”

Haley narrowed her eyes at you and handed you your order. “Well if you don’t go for him, I will.” Taking the items, you glare at her playfully before turning to walk out the door.

Once safely outside, Tom took his coffee from you. The entire walk to the park you felt a bit awkward, unsure of how much of your conversation he heard. It wasn’t until you were both seated on the park bench and eating your breakfast that he broke the silence.

“So what was all that about?” he asked.

You shrugged nonchalantly and took a sip of your drink. “She was just surprised we know each other, that’s all.”

“Well what did you say?” He seemed anxious about the situation, but he did a good job of hiding it.

Really, the only reason you picked up on it was because your dad taught you at a young age how to read people. “I just told her we’d been seeing each other around and you decided to introduce yourself.”

“So you didn’t tell her who I am?”

You lowered your voice before asking, “What am I supposed to say? ‘This is Tom, my bodyguard. I don’t know who hired him but he’s saved me twice in the past two months. Thanks for the coffee!’”

Tom’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Fair enough.”

You both finished your food in silence, then stood up. “Ready to go?” he asked.

---

You weren’t quite sure where he was going, but the weather was beautiful so you didn’t mind the walk. Just within 15 minutes you’d seen three dogs and got to pet one of them. Tom smiled watching you coo over the pups. That smile made your heart melt, just a little.

A voice in the back of your head warned against developing feelings for him. He was still a practical stranger after all. But it felt nice to spend time with someone,even if he was getting paid to do so.

“It should be just up here.” Tom’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was pointing at a small hardware store you’d never been into despite passing it everyday on the way to work.

“What do you need here?” you asked.

“Supplies,” he responded.

“Supplies for what?” Much to your chagrin, he didn’t answer. Instead he held the door to the shop open for you.

Once inside, you headed for the paint section, ignoring the feeling of Tom’s eyes on your back. A few weeks ago, you bought an old end table from a garage sale and had been meaning to paint it, but didn’t actually have any paint. Trying to keep your thoughts from wandering to your bodyguard, you poured all of your focus into choosing just the right shade to match your other furniture.

It was down to two when Tom appeared at your side, basket in hand. “I like the gray,” he offered. You put the gray paint back and walked up to the register, smug smile growing. He set his stuff on the counter next to yours and reached for his wallet. While the cashier rung everything up, your thoughts once again drifted to Kurt. He shouldn’t have been able to find you. You were so careful.

Tom didn’t make any attempt at conversation on the way back to your apartment. He seemed just as preoccupied as you were. It surprised you a bit when you reached your block. The walk went by much quicker than you expected. A leaf blower was droning somewhere nearby as you ascended the stairs to your unit.

As the lock clicked, you heard a bell jingle as your cat came running into the living room. “Hey there sweetie, I missed you,” you greeted, picking it up and kissing its forehead. Tom set the bags down and made sure to lock the door behind him. He started to unpack, allowing you to see what it was he purchased now that you’re paying attention. “Tom!”

Your voice startled him a bit. “What? Is something wrong?” He was glancing around the room, checking for signs of danger.

“You aren’t fixing my wall.” The brown-haired boy relaxed and smiled. Laying on the table in front of him was everything necessary to patch the hole in the wall.

“It’s really no problem, princess. I’d like to do it.”

“That’s something I should get my landlord to fix, not my bodyguard,” you protested.

He turned to face you, trying to be casual but still seeming serious. “If I had been here earlier, there wouldn’t be a hole in your wall or a bruise on your neck. Besides, do you really want to explain to him what happened?”

You couldn’t really argue with that, you tried to have as little contact with your landlord as possible. So instead, you decided to start making lunch while Tom worked.

It seemed weirdly natural having him there, almost comfortable. You were surprised that you actually did feel safe with him, something you hadn’t felt in a very long time. Who knows how long it would actually last, so you told yourself you’d enjoy it as much as you could.

Tom finished patching the wall at about the same time you finished cooking lunch. He washed his hands before sitting down at the table. Some spackle was smeared on his brow, and you had to restrain yourself from reaching up and wiping it away. Your eyes traced down his face, passed his cheekbones and along his chiseled jawline to his lips. There was no denying he was absolutely gorgeous. Your thoughts started to wander when his mouth curled into a smug grin. A little too late you realized he had caught you staring. Heat rose in your cheeks and you tried to conceal your embarrassment by shoving food in your mouth.

The rest of the meal went by in silence, you cursing yourself and Tom enjoying watching you squirm. When you had both finished eating, he took the plates to the sink and rinsed them off. A text message tone vibrated the table and you picked up your cell to check if the message was meant for you. Nothing.

“Must be you,” you called over to Tom. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and grabbed his phone, brow furrowing as he read.

“Huh,” he muttered, typing a response then sitting back down at the table. A feeling of unease blossomed in your chest as he stared you down intently. “(Y/n), you wouldn’t happen to know someone by the name of Nic Martin, would you?” Your heart stopped.

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Hey everyone, sorry I’ve been gone so long! It’s been crazy busy but I’m back to finish TINTFR! Please let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged! Thanks for sticking with me <3

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trashcanband4 · 6 years ago

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The Revelation of the Other Woman Ch. 13

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12

Chapter Title: Three against the world. Pairing: Daryl/oc Setting: Woodbury Wordcount: 4,912 Warning: Anxiety, Panic attacks

We peaked into the window of a pharmacy, seeing that there were three walkers inside. I looked at Michonne and jerked my head to one side and she jerked hers the other way and nodded. So I opened the door setting off the bell above it and we went opposite directions. One came my way and two went hers. I circled around to the biter that followed me and slammed my hatchet into the back of it’s head. With mine taken down I headed Michonne’s direction to see her slice two walkers head off in one swipe. “So dramatic.” I sighed with a smirk as she slung the blood off of her blade.

“My drama’s saved your ass on several occasions.” She fired back in her usual monotone voice.

“No argument there.” I agreed and moved from the shelf I had been leaning on to look for something that could help kill a cold. But all we could find was a few packets of Tylenol. “Guess this will have to work for now.” I grumbled and tossed Michonne the packets that she caught in one hand and tucked into the bag thrown over her ebony shoulder.

“Let’s get back to her.” Michonne said with a nod at the door so we headed out back to the Sportsman’s Deer Cooler, a meat market on the edge of town where we had left a very ill Andrea. When we got inside, Andrea wasn’t where we left her and the first thing that crossed my mind was that she had died while we were out and was now roaming the place. So we headed through the only open door in the room, readying our weapons as we did. But we found her laying down on the floor wrapped in a blanket. “What are you doin’ out here?”

“I needed some light.” Andrea groaned and I kneeled down beside her. Over the past months, we had grown to tolerate each other. That didn’t mean we got along by any means, but with Michonne as a mediator, things usually got worked out eventually.

Michonne helped Andrea sit up then started tearing open the packets of Tylenol. “Take this.” Michonne told Andrea as she popped the pills into the sick woman’s mouth then helped her take a sip of water.

“How is it out there?” Andrea asked as Michonne pressed the cool bottle of water to Andrea’s flushed face.

“No different than usual.” I answered as I moved around to sit against the wall beside Andrea.

“You’re a bad liar.” Andrea grumbled and I smirked at her because it was true.

“We should go in a few days.” Michonne suggested.

“They’re coming.” Andrea groaned back at the worried look in Michonne’s eyes. “You two should go.”

“No.” Michonne and I argued back.

“I’ll hold you back. Go. I can take care of myself. I save your asses all winter, didn’t I?” Andrea said giving Michonne a cheeky smile then started coughing. Michonne tried to give Andrea some water, but she smacked it away. “I won’t have you dying for me.” she moved around and wrapped the blanket around her torso. “Good soldier won’t leave your post…Screw both you.”

I scoffed at her and left the room. I heard Michonne whisper, “We’ll go in a few days.” Before I was completely out of earshot. A few minutes later Michonne came into the main room and unchained her pets. “We’re movin’ on. Best pack your stuff.”

I sighed, but didn’t argue. When she and Andrea had agreed on something, my opinion didn’t much matter. So after our stuff was packed, not that we had much, we moved on. Constantly moving around, traveling with two overpowering women…it could be…taxing. It made me miss the farm and Daryl. Putting up with Andrea on a daily basis even made me miss all of the Rick and Lori drama.

We had been traveling for two days, walking along a random road, when we saw a helicopter fly over. “Huh, last time I saw one of those I was told it was a hallucination.” I thought out loud with a look aver at Andrea who rolled her tired eyes. Michonne and I didn’t give the helicopter a second thought and kept walking the road, but when we looked back we saw that Andrea wasn’t following. As we followed her eyes to the sky a loud explosion sounded from the aircraft and black smoke started boiling out of the top. “They’re going down.” I gasped right before the craft spun out of control and crashed into the woods across the large field we were facing. Without a single bit of discussion we headed to the downed helicopter.

We had gotten to the crash when Andrea fell and puked up her brunch. “Don’t push yourself.” Michonne scolded then helped her move to sit behind a bush. Michonne chained her pets to a tree then gave Andrea a gun to protect herself while the two of us went to check out the crash. The first person we can across was a soldier who had been chopped in half by the blades of the helicopter. We were looking inside for survivors when we heard trucks approaching across the way. “Come on.” Michonne told me with a nudge and we ran back over to Andrea.

“People are coming.” I informed Andrea as I ran around her and crouched down.

“Any survivors?” she asked.

“Two dead, not sure about the other.” Michonne answered, grabbing onto the handle of her katana while I gripped my hatchet. A few seconds’ later two trucks pulled up and men started getting out.

“Fan out.” A guy commanded and the others obeyed. “Save those rounds until you need ‘em.” The same man barked. My heart pounded in my chest as we watched the men asses the area. One guy used a bow to take down a walker. Then when Andrea started coughing I feared the men would find us, but she quieted down and we watched as another man took down two walkers with a baseball bat. “We’ve got a breather!” the man who seemed to be the leader yelled then called for one of his men, Tim. The two were pulling the man from the helicopter when we heard a walker approaching from behind us.

Michonne moved to take it down, but Andrea stopped her and it walked right by us. The men saw it and the guy with the bow took it down. “He’s saving them. We should show ourselves.” Andrea said and Michonne and I looked at each other, both shaking our heads.

“Not yet.” Michonne told her quietly.

We watched them men for a bit longer, making Michonne’s pets pull at their chains and make a lot of noise. As we watched, the leader stabbed the guy that had been chopped in half then did the same to the dead guy in the helicopter. I was going to ask why he did that, but Michonne’s walkers started causing a ruckus getting the attention of the men surveying the crash. “They’re making too much noise. They’re gonna give us away.” I whispered, earning a glare from her. It didn’t help when Andrea coughed. The combination of the two really caught the men’s attention and Michonne quickly stood and chopped off the walkers heads.

The men stood around for a few seconds, looking in our direction before the leader finally said, “Let’s roll out.”

We all breathed a sigh of relief and my heart rate dropped a bit, but when we heard a stick snap behind us Michonne and I grabbed our weapons and started to spin around, but we were cut off. “Nuh, uh, uh. Easy does it, girls.” That voice, that gruff slightly high pitched voice sounded familiar. “Mine’s a whole lot bigger than yours. Now, put down your weapons.” I sighed and opened my hand letting the hatchet fall to the ground with a thud. “That’s it. Nice and easy, girl.” I looked over at Michonne to see her slowly set her katana on the ground. “And let me see your hands.” The three of us lifted our hands above our heads. “Now spin around, that’s it. Nice little twirl around.” As I turned around the face of none other than Merle Dixon came into view. “Oh holy shit.” He drawled looking at Andrea. “Blondie.” His eyes then turned to me. “And ain’t you that bitch that shot at me?” he asked with a smirk.

“Just your feet.” I answered with a smart ass smirk even thought I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but let’s admit it, I’m not very good at that.

“Damn, ya’ll are looking good.” I rolled my eyes at him. A walker came up behind him and he stabbed it with a knife that was tapped to a metal contraption on his stub hand. I guess he cut if off to get off the roof. “Now, how’s about a big hug for your old pal Merle?” he asked holding his arms out to the side. Andrea passed out and the next thing I knew I was being lifted up, blindfolded and my hands tied behind my back.

I could tell that I was in a vehicle, but I couldn’t see for the blindfold on my eyes and I couldn’t move. But I could hear the leader talking to someone on the other end of a radio. “Have Stevens prep the infirmary.”

“How many?” the voice on the other end asked.

“Four.” The leader answered. “One with multiple fractures and severe burns, another in and out of consciousness, probably shock and dehydration.”

“And the others?” the voice asked.

“They’re fine.” Leader answered.

Any females?” the voice asked.

“Three. Found them hiding in the woods.” The leader answered. “I’m bringing a homework assignment so open the lab.”

“Do tell.” The voice said.

“Be at the gates in five minutes. Get off the radio.” The Leader told him.

“Well, what is it?” the voice asked.

“Now, Milton.” The leader said aggravated at the guy on the radio.

When the vehicle came to a stop we were un-blindfolded and taken to what looked like a makeshift clinic where a doctor took our blood and gave us water. Michonne sat on the end of the examination bed while the nurse tended to Andrea and I sat on a small stool. “Why are we being held here? We want to leave.” Andrea said using her bitchy tone and for once I couldn’t blame her.

“You’re not well enough.” The nurse scolded. “and it’s dark. You should stay the night.

“Where are we?” Andrea asked.

The nurse looked around like she was scared to talk. “That’s not for me to say. He’ll talk to you.”

“Who?” Michonne asked and before I could say anything Merle walked into the room.

“Go check on your patient, Doc.” He told her so she left and Merle walked further into the room. “Bet you was wondering if I was real.” He said as he walked over to the desk and grabbed him a chair. “Probably hoping I wasn’t.” he added as he turned the chair around backwards and sat down. “Well, here I am.” He gave us a smile like we should be impressed. Michonne stood up, but I stayed seated. “I guess this old world gets a little smaller toward the end, huh? Ain’t so many of us left to share the air, right?”

As much as I hated the first impression and second that Merle had made on me, I was interested to know how he made it off of the roof alive. “You know, when they found me I was near bled out. Starving. Thinking to myself a bullet might make a good last meal. Take myself a nice long nap after. Wait for Daryl on the other side.” My eyes watered when he mentioned Daryl. “You seen my brother?” he asked with a look at Andrea then at me. He noticed the tears in my eyes and I looked away.

“Not for a long time.” Andrea answered vaguely.

“Makes two of us.” He said with a flat faced nod.

“He went back for you, you know? Him and Rick and Glenn, but you were already gone.” I spoke up hoping it would help.

“Yeah well…” Merle laughed as he slid off the metal contraption to reveal a nasty looking stump. “Not all of me.” I cringed and covered my mouth with my hand. “Yeah…Rick. He’s that prick that cuffed me to the rooftop.” He grunted as he put the contraption back on.

“Yeah…” Andrea answered. “He tried. Daryl saw that.” she tried to smooth things over.

“He’s always been the sweet one my baby brother.” Merle said with a nod and I smiled because he was right. “What you smilin’ about?” he asked me and I felt my eyes grow big.

“She was sleeping with him.” Andrea answered for me.

“Andrea!” I hissed at her then looked at Merle with a slack jaw.

“You’s hookin’ up with my baby brother?” he asked, giving me a glare.

“No, uh…that’s… that’s beside the point.” I stumbled around, not knowing how Merle was going to react to Daryl being with me. “The point is, Daryl wanted to keep looking for you but we got over run and had to move on.” I said bringing things back to topic.

“A lot of people died…Jim, Dale, Jacqui, Sophia…” Andrea started listing off the people that had passed and then started tearing up, “Amy.”

“Your sister?” Merle asked and Andrea nodded. “She was a good kid, I’m sorry to hear it.

“There were more, a lot more. We had to leave Atlanta.” Andrea started, but I took over.

“From there we found a farm with some other survivors. We stayed there a while but it got over run too.” I finished.

“Daryl stepped up, became a valued member of the group.” Andrea added, knowing I couldn’t talk about Daryl without crying.

“Now he’s dead.” Merle assumed.

“I don’t know that for sure. We didn’t see him go down.” She corrected.

“How long ago?” Merle asked.

“Seven, eight months.” Andrea answered as I stared down at the floor. “Joanna and I were separated from the rest of them. Got left behind.” Merle just nodded. “I know what it feels like.”

“I doubt that.” Merle said holding up his stump.

“What do you want from us?” Andrea asked and I pulled my eyes from the floor, wondering the same thing.

“Damn.” Merle sighed as he got up out of the chair. “There she sits, four walls around her, roof over her head, medicine in her veins, and she wants to know what I want from her.” Merle said to Michonne and me. “I plucked you, your mute and your sharp shooter here out of the dirt, Blondie. Saved your asses. How about a thank you?”

“You had a gun on us.” Michonne spoke for the first time.

“Ooh, she speaks.” Merle popped off. “Who ain’t had a gun on ‘em in the past year, huh?” he laughed out the question. “Show of hands, huh? Anybody? Hmm?” he asked walking around the room with his stump raised. “Shumpert, Crowley? Y’all had a gun on y’all?” The men just ignored his question. “Hell, I think I’d piss my pants if some stranger come walking up with his mitts in his pockets. That’s be the son of a bitch you’d really want to be scared of.”

“Thank you.” Andrea said, interrupting him. Michonne just glared, open mouthed at Merle then Andrea. A second later the leader guy walked in a whispered something to Merle then turned to us.

“How you feeling?” he asked in his deep voice.

“We want our weapons.” Michonne said stepping up to the front of the room.

The leader just nodded. “Sure. On your way out the front gates.”

“Show us the way.” Andrea spoke up and I just looked at her then back at the frowning leader. “You’ve kept us locked up in this room.

The guy just looked around him. “You see any bars on the windows? You’re being cared for.”

“Under guard.” Andrea argued with a hand on her hip. This attitude was the reason me and her never got along.

“To protect our people. We don’t know you.” The guy argued calmly.

“We know enough about you to want out of this place. We watched you drive a knife into the skulls of two dead men.” Andrea argued back. “What the hell was that all about?”

“They turned.” The guy answered.

“They weren’t bitten.” Michonne argued stiffly.

The leader looked at Merle and the look they shared told me we were missing something. The leader sighed and looked back at us. “It dosen’t matter. However we die, we all turn. I put them out of their misery.” The guy walked around Michonne and Andrea to stand closer to me where I still sat on the stool. “It’s not easy news to swallow at first, but there it is. You’re not prisoners here, you’re guests.” He looked at me for a second then turned back to Andrea and Michonne. “If you want to leave, as I said, you’re free to do so. But we don’t open the gates past dusk. Draws too much attention.” he turned his eyes from Michonne to me then to Andrea. “And you especially, you need a solid night’s sleep. You wouldn’t last another day out there in your condition.” He looked from her to Michonne then back to Andrea. “I’ll have you brought over to my place in the morning.” He turned and started walking out still talking. “Return your weapons. Extra ammo, food for the road, some meds, keys to a vehicle if you want one.” He stopped at the door to look back at us. Andrea looked at Michonne and me with a look of shock. Michonne just glared over at Andrea and I turned my eyes back to the leader. “Send you on your way, no hard feelings.” With that he walked away and we followed. He led us to the front doors and opened them for us. “Welcome to Woodbury.” As I looked out the doors I saw what looked like a normal, clean town illuminated by torches. “Come with me.”

So we followed him, Andrea leading the way and Michonne behind her. I hung back, walking slightly ahead of Merle who was following behind us. As we walked we stopped at a wall where men stood guard. Merle ran up the stairs and relived one of the man. Andrea chatted up the leader while Michonne and I took everything in. but my attention was drawn to Merle when he Whistled. “Got us a creeper, Governor.” So he was their governor? The leader or Governor gave Merle a nod and Merle took down that walkers with an assault rifle, one armed.

“Governor, they call you that?” I heard Andrea ask.

“Some nicknames stick whether you want them to or not.” He answered.

“Buzz in a nickname, Governors a title.” She corrected as she walked over to the fence and peeked out.

As I looked at Michonne I could tell she didn’t trust this place. I on the other hand was wondering if we found our new home. From there we were led to a room for the three of us to share. As soon as the Governor was gone Michonne shut the door.

While the streets at night were like a ghost town, when morning rolled around everything came alive. We were woken by a brunette woman wearing a dress and boots, holding a clipboard who introduced herself as Rowan and said the Governor wanted us to join him at his place for breakfast. “It’s real.” Andrea thought aloud.

“You three were out there for a long time. While you were, the Governor was doing this.” Rowan replied as we walked the sidewalk. I trailed behind Michonne, taking it all in.

“There seems to be a lot of people.” I said more to myself than them, but they still heard.

“How many do you have here?” Andrea asked.

“73. Eileen’s about to pop, so her kid will make 74.” Rowan answered. “It’s still a work in progress, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“That’s a bold comparison.” Andrea scoffed.

“I think we’ve earned it.” Rowan replied and I just listened to their conversation, keeping my two cents to myself. “Wall’s haven’t been breached in well over a month. We haven’t suffered a casualty on the inside since early winter.”

“How’s that possible?” Andrea asked.

“Our Governor set a strict curfew.” Rowan answered as I took in three women working around a planter full of green, growing plants. “Nobody out after dark. Noise and light are kept to the bare minimum. Armed guards on the fence and patrolling the perimeter to keep the biters away.”

“I saw what your patrols do on the way in last night.” Andrea said in her bitchy tone. “They had a dead one strung up like an ornament.”

Rowan stopped and held her clipboard down in front of her as she talked to Andrea. “I won’t make excuses, but those men put their lives at risk every day to protect this town. They’ve lost more than a few friends out there. everybody copes in their own way.” Rowan finished her speech and walked around Andrea. “But I’ll raise it with the Governor.”

Andrea and Michonne shared a look before Andrea started following Rowan and Michonne looked at me. “I have a clip board, I’m important.” I mocked Rowan in a high pitched voice and Michonne just glared at me and started following behind Andrea. “I thought I was funny.” I said to myself with a shrug then trailed behind the three women.

By the time Rowan was done giving us the low down on the town and delivered us to the governor he was halfway through cooking breakfast and another guy who the Governor introduced as Milton had tea ready for us. We were seated now sitting at the round dining table in his kitchen. “Eight months?” The governor asked as he walked over with a skillet of eggs. “Hard to believe you ladies lasted so long out there.” he scrapped some eggs onto Andrea’s plate.

“Because we’re women?” she asked.

I scoffed at her. “Not every man is a sexist pig you know?” she glared at me.

The governor smirked at me then looked back at Andrea. “Because you were alone.” He scraped some eggs onto my plate.

“We had each other.” Andrea replied as he gave Michonne some eggs.

“Three against the world, it’s long odds.” The governor answered as he served Milton.

“We managed.” Andrea replied.

“Oh, we’re impressed.” he scraped some eggs onto his own plate.

“Very.” Milton added.

“Survival in the wild is tough sledding.” The Governor said as he moved to the kitchen and sat the skillet down. I noticed Michonne staring at something on the shelf across from her and followed her gaze to her katana, Andrea’s gun and my black handled hatchet that were on display as if to taunt us. “Wake up every morning on the ground wondering if today is the day. Will it be quick and final or slow and, well, without end?” he said as he finally say down. “Will someone have the good sense to kill my brain, or will I come back as one of them?”

Now that he was seated I picked up my fork and started eating. “Do you think they remember anything?” Milton asked and we all just looked at him. “The person they once were?”

“I don’t think about it.” Andrea answered through a bite of food.

“I think so. Not a lot, but a very, very, limited amount.” I spoke up earning a look from Andrea. “What? Unlike you I think about it. I’ve seen a little girl walker stop to pick up a doll and a mother come back to the house she died in and try to open the door.” everyone just looked at me for a second.

The Governor spoke up breaking the tension. “Milton believes there might be a trace of the person they were still trapped inside.”

“Like an echo.” Milton added as he filled his cup with tea. He had a soft way of speaking that I found relaxing. “Surly it must have crossed your mind.” He spoke to Andrea.

“At one time, yeah. Right before it tried to bite me.” she said with a small laugh.

“And then you killed it?” Milton asked as I took my last bite of eggs then started sipping the tea, which was really good. “I say “it” only because no one here likes to refer to them as him…or her…” he finished awkwardly with a clear of his throat then started talking to Michonne. “The two you had in chains, who were they?” Michonne froze and just looked down at the table. “The way you controlled them, used them to your benefit.” Michonne refused to look at him. “You did know them, didn’t you?” but when he asked this she looked at him with wide eyes.

Andrea and I didn’t know what to say. “Let them eat.” The Governor scolded.

“My apologies.” Milton apologized then looked down at the table like a scolded kid.

Andrea started questioning the governor about the town and his secret to keeping it safe. It really was a fully functioning town with schools and jobs just well guarded. But something in my gut was telling me that it was too good to be true. Their conversation went on until the bowman from the day before knocked on the door and whispered something to the Governor. “Soffy to cut breakfast short, but this can’t wait.” He apologized.

“We want our weapons.” Michonne demanded as she stood up from the table.

“Well, we can make these meals to go and your weapons will be waiting outside, but you should take time to relax.” The governor responded. “Get your strength back. Have a look around. Who knows? You might like what you see.”

After he left, Milton showed us out and we were left alone to explore. “I don’t trust him.” Michonne spoke up.

“I second that statement.” I added from where I walked behind the two of them and Andrea looked back at me with an eye roll.

“Why not?” she asked as she turned to look straight ahead. “Have you ever trusted anybody?” she asked Michonne.

“Yeah.” She answered stiffly.

“Then give this a day or two, that’s all I’m asking.” Andrea said as she started walking ahead of us. “Some time to get our shit together.”

“My shit never stopped being together.” Michonne spoke up stiffly with her hands on her hips and I decided to bow out of this conversation.

“Didn’t look that way when Milton asked about your walkers.” Andrea popped off. “I’m surprised he didn’t get a fork in his eye.”

“It was none of his damn business.” Michonne argued shakily.

“I guess it’s none ours either.” Andrea said as she stopped and looked at me then Michonne.

“Hey, don’t pull me into this. Her business is her business.” I said holding me hands up as I backed off.

“Seven months together, all we’ve been through, I still feel like I hardly know you.” Andrea said earning a glare from Michonne. “I’m sorry, it’s the truth. You know everything about me and I-”

“You know enough.” Michonne interrupted her.

Andrea looked at me then sighed and turned her gaze back to Michonne. “Those walkers were with us all winter long, protecting us, and you took them out without any hesitation. That had-”

“It was easier than you think.” Michonne interrupted her shakily before she started walking away from us. I just shrugged at Andrea and followed Michonne.

Michonne and I were sitting at a patio table on the sidewalk when the Governor and his men pulled up, two new military vehicles in tow. When they pulled to a stop a crowd started gathering around them so I joined, leaving Michonne behind. The Governor stood in the back of one of the trucks and started making a speech. “We brought in four new people yesterday. One was a helicopter pilot with a national guard outfit. Even though he was clinging to life, he told us about his convoy on the highway, his men.” He paused and looked down at the ground for a second as if her were sad before he continued. “I promised I’d bring them back here alive. But they didn’t have our walls or our fences. Biters got there before we did.” I squinted, listening carefully to his story. “Now the men had trucks, the trucks had weapons, food, medicine, things we need. Now we didn’t know them, but we’ll honor their sacrifice by not taking what we have here for granted. Won’t be long before dark, so go on home. Be thankful for what you have. Watch out for each other.” With that he hopped down off of the truck and the group dispersed.

Andrea walked beside him talking as I walked over to Michonne and sat back down. “Did that seem like a load of bull to you?” I asked and she looked over at me with her usual glare and nodded.

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berryherbist · 5 years ago

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So I just finished The Savior’s Champion by Jenna Moreci and

It...wasn’t good. In my opinion.

Well, I technically didn’t finish now, but this was what I sent my friend right after I finished reading it. It’s not a genuine review, mostly just things I felt right after I finished (and still do tbh). I felt like sharing it though so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I might do a more in depth review later, but I’ll just post this for now.

I wanna preface this by saying there’s nothing wrong with liking this book, and I’m not judging anyone who does, it just...wasn’t good. Also, there are spoilers ahead

Alright leggo

Honestly?? Honestly??? Where do I begin?? Specifics or the overall book?? Either way it was b a d. Okay I guess to start, I feel like this whole book was a waste of time. Not in the "I hated it I wish I hadn't read it sort of way" though. I just felt like it was a set up for the second book. Like yeah, it technically had its own plot, but literally nothing was resolved and there were no answers to major questions. I was hoping to get /something/ by the end of the book, but it just raised even more questions and half of what happened didn't make sense after that ending. And it has absolutely no right to be as long as it is. There are so many parts that are unmemorable or useless, ngl I had trouble remembering half of the book.I feel like every scene or exchange between characters should either move the plot along or develop the characters more, and that hardly e v e r happened. A lot of Tobias' dialogue was just to show how much better he is than the other people in the tournament. Like, Orion and some of the others were decent, but Tobias was like the Golden Child of this whole thing. Like he couldn't ever do anything wrong. Even if he did fuck up or make a bad decision he ended up being right. Jenna shows obvious favoritism towards her two main characters and everyone else fades into the background so much they can hardly be considered shadows.I mean, she has how many characters and how fleshed out are they? Tobias and Leila are hardly fleshed out and don't change at all from their first to last appearance. I guess you could say Delphi is kind of developed, but even then we don't see too much of her. She's got a very tropey personality and most of her appearances are to connect Tobias and Leila.And I couldn't even be sad at any of the character deaths!! I can't even remember half of their names, let alone their personalities. I literally had to go back and reread the contestant's names (Raphael who?? Neil who??). I was disappointed at Orion's death, but not /sad/. It was more like a "damn, you're one of the few characters I don't hate reading about and now you're gone." And those characters hardly get a backstory. Again I know the book doesn't revolve around them but damn, if you're going to include this many characters don't just make them accessories to your mains.(She's got portraits/art for so many of her characters but they don't even have a story hdrasfjh. if you're going to go through the trouble getting official designs for them give them official backgrounds maybe??)Now moving on to individual characters...just...fuck...fuck I hate Tobias and Leila so much.First of all they're so fucking stupid. So fucking stupid. Especially Tobias. Why can't they just keep it in their pants and focus on things that are actually important? Like the tournament?? Or whatever the fuck Leila is doing?? Or the fact that they're being so obvious?? I didn't like Flynn but I agreed with him more times than I did with Tobias. At least Flynn understood it was a competition. Yeah, he was arrogant and was there for very selfish reasons, but damn he actually had his head on straighter than Tobias. If anything Jenna's most fleshed out character was Flynn. He showed both bravery and cowardice, he had his own goals and personality, and despite the fact he threatened to betray Tobias, he was basically loyal in the end. Aside from when the Sovereign ordered Flynn to kill him but like. Can you blame him? Also, if I found out that one of the people I was competing against didn't even want the "prize" (I don't like referring to the Savior as that but that's basically what she is adkjfadjdla) that I could possibly lose my life over than yeah I'm going to be pissed??

Tobias is just a Gary Stu. He's handsome, a "good man," selfless, talented, loved by many, and always talks about how fucked up and corrupted the competition is, as if other people don't know that?? I'm also pissy at how good he was at fighting. The boy has 0 experience except for the time he trained with Leila but he was able to kill the Giant, Drake, and Kaleo. I guess you could argue that he was fueled by rage or whatever, but against trained assassins?? I don't think so.And then Leila. Fuckign Leila. She was so boring. SO so boring. Basically just a female Tobias. Pretty, good at fighting, smart, and independent, with almost no flaws whatsoever, if any. Maybe you could count her being secretive as a flaw, but Tobias had literally no right to know what she was up to or any of her secrets. He obviously doesn't understand what goes on between politicians and other aspects of the tournament (or whatever Brontes is doing?? idk man) but he still demands Leila tell him anyway. Anyway, there's nothing intriguing about Leila at all. Get those two together and it's just cardboard on cardboard. They're so boring, and all they ever talk about is how much they "love" each other. I know Jenna was probably trying to hide the instant romance in TSC but they still only had thirty days to fall in love. And maybe it's just me but none of it felt real. SO much of it just felt like lust (how many times did we have to read about wet dreams or them grinding on each other like adhskja).As for her villains?? I honestly think I liked them more than her main characters. I mean, they weren't developed at all but I couldn't hate them just because they were dicks.Kaleo, for example. He's an asshole. Just a real mean fucker. Yeah, I didn't like how arrogant and unnecessarily cruel he was, but because he had no backstory or clear motives throughout the whole book I was just waiting on a reason to really hate him. The same thing goes for Cosima. We spend the whole book thinking she's the Savior, so I always thought a lot of her behavior was due to never having a mother and only being raised by her father (who I thought was just very protective at first tbh). But still, I don't even know how to describe her. Not quite bitchy but not the nicest either. Selfish maybe? Like, when Raphael was bitten or whatever she let the judging go on. Fake? How she flirted with all of the contestants. Ngl though I felt kinda bad, because she's the one who wasn't allowed to choose who she got to marry. (Kinda unrelated but Tobias always complained that men died for her and yeah it's fucked up but?? That's the competition?? and even though she's the Savior I doubt she could just be like "lmao nah let's not do this." He likes to act all righteous and good but he doesn't know wtf he's talking about lol). Or just gross, when she started groping and kissing Tobias when he obviously didn't want it? And it wasn't until the very end of the book that we started seeing those parts of her. When it's revealed that Leila is the actual Savior it was like, "okay, I'm supposed to hate her because she took advantage of acting as the Savior, and she betrayed one of the main characters. I see why she's an antagonist now." But it felt so cheap. Kaleo and Cosima were just there to make Tobias and Leila look better by comparison.

Did the people close to Tobias even matter??? Okay, so we had Milo, who was annoying af. I was lowkey happy when he died because I wouldn't have to read about him any more, but I also just. Couldn't care. Yeah he was Tobias' best friend but there wasn't a lot about him. And Tobias seemed to bicker with him more than anything tbh.His sister and mom were just kind of?? Forgotten after awhile?? His sister was the reason he entered the competition but soon enough everything was for Leila. He was fighting for Leila. He wanted to protect Leila. Leila was literally the only thing ever on his mind. Gaining a new motivation is one thing, but forgetting the people closest to you and focusing on girl you've known for a month is messed up. He was even about to leave with Leila to the forest at the very end. If I recall correctly Leila was the one to suggest going to their home. He was willing to just leave them in favor of running away with Leila.

Brontes was such a cut out villain it h u r t (also fuck the official pronunciation of his name imma say it how I please). Old dude in position of power after more power (and we still don't know why) who has an obvious hatred toward the main character and is trying to sabotage him. Wowza. I'm so intrigued.I also h a t e how Jenna made it obvious who we were supposed to like and who we were supposed to hate. We need to hate Kaleo because he's a dick, we need to like Tobias because he's a nice guy. There was no depth to a n y of these characters. I'm not saying antagonists need to be a likable person, but they should be able to be appreciated as a character. I didn't like any of the antagonists in Gentlemen Bastards, but I at least found them interesting, and clever in some way. They were awful people, but they didn't give off that "high school bully" vibe that Jenna's antagonists did.There's nothing to differentiate the characters aside from whether they were "good" or "evil." There's no diversity in their mannerisms or the way they speak. Brontes, who's a royal, speaks the same way Tobias, a peasant, does. Also, you could tell me that Brontes and the contestants are all the same age and I'd believe you.Again kinda unrelated and it's not a book but like, in Boku no Hero Academia a lot of the villains have likable (and different!!!!) personalities and I actually enjoy them *cough* Dabi *cough* so it's not impossible.This might be just me nitpicking but I've got a problem with the way Jenna portrays Pippa. In her videos she claims that Pippa has development issues?? (like all of her characters lol) or something like that. As in she doesn't act her age. And idk if it was her intention but I really hope that that wasn't an attempt at diversity or anything. You can't claim diversity or representation in a book if you need to clarify outside of the book.

Fuck in g world building. There. Was. None. Of. It.Here's what I know about the world:

1.) There are multiple kingdoms (can't remember the name of Tobias' tbh)

2.) The first Savior brought success or peace or goodness or whatever to his Kingdom and is now seen as a Goddess, essentially.

3.) There's a brutal tournament to choose her husband when she comes of age

Other than that we don't know anything about the world or their society. What kind of customs do they have? What's their language like? I'm not saying she needs to give us every single detail of their world, but there are so many gaps that the reader has to fill in, and it feels so goddamn generic. You've got your royals, your peasants, your armies. Apparently it's like a greco-roman thing? But I wouldn't be able to get that from the book. I don't even have a lot to say on world building aside from the fact that it's just not there asejgfaldksfh. Alright alright the pacing of the book pisses me tf off.So the start wasn't too bad, the prologue has the Savior's mother being assassinated, and it doesn't take too long for Tobias to enter the tournament, and we get to the Labyrinth quickly enough, but after that there's a ton of up and down. For example the challenge that's like. Capture the flag or something like that. I hardly remember it, and you could tell moments like that were only so Jenna had an excuse to kill of another character that wasn't important. But then there were moments with Leila and Tobias that just dragged on and on, like their conversations or their time in the art gallery, and they weren't even interesting conversations. Nothing to move the plot along or reveal much about the characters. I guess you could say that it was to further develop their relationship, but I just felt like that's the only reason why they existed. I didn't feel like there was chemistry between two individuals, just two characters that were being forced to love each other.Again, not a book, but imma take Jake and Amy from Brooklyn 99 for example (I wanna use Percy and Annabeth but it's been like seven years since I've read it and I'd probably butcher their story lol). Anyway, Jake and Amy are easily their own person, and they're both really different, but they both have their own goals and they both admire each other for different reasons. They help each other grow, both inside and outside their relationship, and they're better people because of each other. Leila and Tobias don't have that. It takes pages and pages of dialogue, and moments where they are the only two interacting, to try and convince the reader that they're right for each other. Chemistry between characters shouldn't be forced through romantic or intimate situations. The reader needs to believe that the characters as individuals are good for each other. I don't know if I'm making a lot of sense here aeskjfh.

Okay but back to pacing. The ending was just. So forced. And so rushed. And did absolutely n o t h i n g for TSC. In the very last pages we find out that Leila is the Savior and Cosima was just a face, but?? Why?? What was the point of withholding all of that information until the end if we're not going to get anything out of it. You could argue that we're going to learn more in the second book, but that's just bad writing imo. Obviously you're not going to get all of your questions answered in the first book of a series, but there should be some sort of closure at the end of an individual book, and we don't get that. The reader is left in the dark about everything at the end of TSC. We don't know anything, or understand what's going on. Imma just. complain about the fuckign part where Tobias is taken by Kaleo and Brontes. First of all, cheesy and lazy as fuck. I feel like that was just a way for Jenna to tell the reader what Brontes' plan was, or to further show how much of a dick they are, even though we already know. Also, just the whole being tortured thing. Really?? How many times have I seen that before??And then the w a y it ended. I was so disappointed. Aside from the fact that the last challenge/the maze felt rushed, the fight between Kaleo, Tobias, and Flynn was so boring and cliche. The way Flynn and Tobias worked together to defeat Kaleo. How Tobias was able to take down this ruthless assassin ("Fuck your parting words" afsdwkjld). And then what happened after Leila was revealed as the Savior, when they decide to go to his home. I honestly thought that the ending was just the end to another chapter and there would be another left. I turned the page and I was like, "Huh. So that's it then." I wasn't left feeling excited or looking forward to what happens next. I was disappointed and felt a little cheated. I spent all of this time following Tobias and Leila on their journey and I got nothing out of it, besides a forced romance. Also, I'm kinda just repeating myself here, but finding out that Leila is the Savior gives us some explanation for her behavior and actions, but now I wanna know wtf Cosima was for?? And why she was allowed to do that in the first place?? Like, I know Brontes wants to kill her, but why would Brontes let Cosima pretend to be the Savior. My guess is that Brontes would be able to kill Leila, the actual Savior, without creating chaos in the kingdom, but I don't know.

There is so much miscommunication/lack of communication in this story and I'm hte fuckign.There could've been so many questions answered throughout the book. I know I said Tobias has no right to know about Leila's plans, but she could've said something other than "it's complicated" or "you wouldn't understand." How many times did that happen?? Right when I thought we might learn something Leila would go on to say that Tobias couldn't find out, or something would come up and she would have to leave before she could tell him anything. This might've been able to work once, MAYBE twice, but it happened so often that I knew those kinds of scenes were useless and wouldn't provide us with anything, so it took whatever suspense was supposed to be there away.You could argue that because TSC is written in third person limited Tobias wouldn't know all of the secrets to the tournament and the government or whatever, but the way Jenna revealed things was so cheap. He suddenly gets an explanation from Leila at the very end, and Brontes and Kaleo capture him and tell him what their plan is. It would've been so much more interesting if Tobias took small things he learned here and there and pieced it together himself, or at least had some theories. Instead he focuses on Leila this, Leila that, why won't Leila tell me anything. All he does is brood and complain and it's so goddamn old.It kinda felt like the, "And then I woke up and realized it was all a dream" explanation.

I also really, really hate the way she treated her LGBT characters, aside from Dephi, she was decent. But she used the “kill you gays” trope. I’m not saying they needed to stay alive, I understand most of them were going to die, but she killed off one of them and then completely got rid of the other.

And then Kaleo. From what I can tell he’s bisexual.Which is obviously not a bad thing, but he wasn’t just a perv, he was disgusting and invasive, and even worse threatened to sexually assault assault Tobias, which feeds into the idea that bisexual people are just predators and want to fuck everything (Idk if I’m being clear about this hhh)

But yeah that’s all for now y’all

#mine #should I tag this? I feel like I shouldn't #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#the savior's champion #tsc #book review #kind of lol #the saviors champion review #tsc review #also if y'all wanna give me your thoughts they are def welcome

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