#coming at ya with another sad hospital wing scene | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part seven) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±6650 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part seven: While Dean makes a tough decision regarding who has to leave the ranch, Y/N finds it more and more difficult to keep her feelings in check. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Thin Line - honeyhoney (bar scene), Ride to Death - Carter Burwell (evening ride scene), Wonderwall - Ryan Adams (scene under the Joshua tree). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

Dean pulls his head out of the refrigerator with six bottles of Corona hooked between his fingers. After he straightens his back, he pops off the cap with an opener, repeating the action until all bottles are opened. He’s about to break out the whiskey for his uncle, when the ranch owner hobbles towards the bar. The wrangler doesn’t really register him, though, because as his hands work swiftly, he watches his crew. The group of young men and women laugh over a - without a doubt - exaggerated story told by Benny, as they down the first round of the evening. It's Friday and the night is still young. With a day off in foresight, the workers allow themselves to enjoy the evening to the fullest. Dean will go easy on the alcohol, he has the early shift tomorrow. Amongst the group of staff, there is one person in particular who brings a smile to his face. Y/N’s laughter carries through the saloon, mixing with the country music that comes from the jukebox. It’s a great sound, one that causes the corners of his mouth to creep up. Jo and Ash are teaching her how to play poker and so far she’s terrible at it, but that doesn't seem to matter. She’s having tons of fun and gets along great with the others. Still wearing a smile, Dean glances down when he pours the amber liquor into the whiskey glass, sets it down on the bar after which he slides it towards Bobby. As if he knows who is on the wrangler's mind, he glances over at the intern as well. “So how’s our ‘wannabe cowgirl’ doing?” the ranch owner wonders.

A chuckle rumbles deep down Dean’s throat. He remembers calling her that when he shared his concerns with Bobby on the night of her arrival. “She survived the first week,” he admits. “Y/N’s a good fit. Still has a lot to learn, but she works hard and she’s smart.” “So, what you're sayin’ is that the intern isn't a total disaster like you predicted?” Bobby continues, his brow raised. “You just wanna hear me say you were right, don't ya?” Dean returns, amused either way. Bobby’s face shows a glimpse of a smile while nursing the tumbler of whiskey. “Maybe.” The young man shakes his head grinning as he takes a swig from his Corona. “What I'm sayin’ is that you got lucky. You know this could have gone south,” he returns, not giving his uncle the satisfaction. “It could have,” the ranch owner admits. “But I had to get creative; talking about things going south.”

The tone of the conversation changes instantly, leaving a heavy silence. Smiles die, their heads dip down, and gone is the pleasant Friday night feel. Dean is fully aware of where this conversation is heading towards. The issue has been bothering him for an entire week now. He has to decide who of his men to let go “Have you made up your mind yet?” Bobby asks his right hand. Dean nods, letting a sigh slip from his lips. He feels like he’s about to snitch on a friend. But this is business, it's what's necessary for the ranch to survive. It’s not personal, and yet it is, because it’s pulling on his heartstrings when he pronounces the name. “Ash.”

Dean’s eyes land on the group at the long table again. The Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie from Kentucky with tattoos on his arms and the wind in his hair is the one who has to go. It wasn't an easy decision, but it was the logical one. With the livestock reducing to only sixty cows and their calves, he will not have enough work to fill his day. What also weighs in, that Ash was hired last. Nevertheless, Gold Canyon is his home and he is a part of this family. He watches the guy, how he points out the pair of jacks in the open card game they are playing to teach the intern Texas Hold’em. The genuine smirk on his face is followed by a backhand down five when she wins. Poor dude, he has no idea what he’s about to lose. “I’ll break it to him after the weekend.” The voice of the old man, who seems to have aged during their chat, is sad and burdened. It's clear as a bell that laying off Ash is the last thing he wants for the bull rider, who he took under his wing half a decade ago. It’s a position Dean doesn't want his uncle in; the troubled ranch owner has enough on his plate as it is. “I’ll do it,” he offers. “Nah, I got this one, son,” Bobby says, reassuring him as he reaches across the bar to put a hand on his shoulder. “Join‘em, make the most of tonight.” His nephew nods while picking up the drunks, and heads for the table, after glancing at Bobby Singer another time. Dean swallows down the guilt and worry before he takes a seat, leaving his company oblivious to the dark clouds that are gathering above them. “So, how's it going? Do I have a new competitor yet?” he asks both Ash and Y/N while he gives out the beers. “I'm getting the hang of it,” she returns confidently, picking up the two cards Garth just dealt. Dean watches the young woman without her noticing, too focused on the game. Ash observes every action over the shoulder of his apprentice without helping her this time and is proud when she wins once again with three eights. “Beginners luck,” Jo scoffs, pushing the pot in her friend’s direction. “Keep telling yourself that.” Y/N grins at the blonde from across the table.

It’s Jo’s turn to shuffle when a group enters. Distracted by the squeaking sound of the double doors, Y/N looks up, noticing that Casey is amongst the guests. Ignoring the heavy feeling in her chest, she directs her eyes back to the cards, the bright smile on her lips toned down. Expecting Dean to have his eyes on his probable fix for tonight, her gaze wanders. He noticed the pretty brunette, but it’s not Casey he’s looking at. As Y/N glances over, so does he, and they both seem to feel caught for busting each other. She cannot help but wonder why he would be checking on her, though. Was he curious about her response? “Hey, handsome.” Dean smiles up at Casey, who positions herself behind his chair, laying her delicate hands on his shoulders as she kisses him on the cheek. He forces himself to come off as sincere, but there’s an anchor restraining him. “Hey,” he responds. “Had a nice ride?” “I did. Would have been better if you were there,” she flirts.

The game continues, but Jo doesn't deal for him, assuming that the two are going to leave for the bunkhouse anyway, like they usually do whenever Casey is here. After giving out the cards, the ranch owner's daughter peeks up from her hand, noticing her friend, who tries to mask the annoyance and disappointment to what is happening on the other end of the table. When she looks up, Jo’s brown eyes lock on hers as she lifts her chin shortly, the mimic asking if her friend is okay. Y/N nods and fakes a smile, but loses this game anyway.

“Hey, you wanna get outta here? To have another sort of ride,” Casey whispers in Dean’s ear as she leans in. He gulps down his beer and sets down the bottle. Her offer should sound tempting, then why isn't he intrigued? Instinctively, his eyes slip over to Y/N again. She seems to be concentrated on the game of poker, but she’s not at ease like she was a minute ago. This time she doesn't grant him any recognition of his existence. “I - uh…” he starts, brought back to the conversation when Casey softly massages his tense shoulder muscles. “I had a busy week and I have to work tomorrow, so I'm gonna hit the hay early.” “I can come along and help you relax,” she presses, now wrapping her arms around his neck.

Y/N picks up on Casey’s offer and grinds her teeth. Suddenly she’s angry with herself. How could she be so stupid to let herself get swooned off her cowboy boots by that scumbag ? Sure, she fought it, she denied it, but at the same time, she found hope in every smile he threw at her, in his flirts and compliments. How could you possibly think for even one short second that he only has eyes for you?! What makes you so special?

When Y/N loses to Benny again, she glances at her watch. Ten past nine; it's not too late to train with Meadow. She was reluctant to leave the fun a moment ago, but now leaving the Saloon seems like the best idea she has had all week. Y/N gets up, attracting confused looks from the company. “You're leaving?” Jo assumes. “Yeah, I still have to train Meadow,” Y/N excuses. “You're gonna ride now ?” Dean responds, perplexed. “We were just having fun.” “No one ever improved their skills by getting plastered and by just having fun, Dean,” she responds, his name coming out with a sneer. “If you want to own it, you've got to work for it.”

The cowgirl gets up and pushes the chair back under the table, the sound of its legs scratching the wooden floor breaking the silence. As she turns around to leave, her eyes meet Jo’s, who has a ‘you tell’im, girl!’ grin on her face. The doors flap after she walks through them, and the men at the table chuckle. “She's a diehard, that’s for sure,” Ash says. “Yeah...” Dean acknowledges, confused. “She is."

He watches her go for a few more seconds, determined strides, frustration in the sound of her footsteps. What the hell was that all about? For someone who claims to be strictly business, she turned pretty defensive when Casey got a little clingy. Oh, he caught the true meaning behind her words, alright. Is she really implying that if he wants her, he has to step up his game? If that’s the case, this might actually be a good thing. Yes, she’s annoyed with him right now, but this could mean he has an actual shot. “So, what do you say?” Casey asks again, pressing a seducing kiss in his neck. He glances up at the gorgeous young woman. She is pretty, wavy brown hair frames her flawless face, some freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks. Under that blue blouse and bootcut jeans, there is the body of a pinup girl. One who knows how to get a man’s engine running, which he had the pleasure of experiencing more than once. Dark, lustful eyes tell him all about what she has in store for him once she gets him alone. Yet for the first time, he’s not interested. “I'm gonna have to pass,” Dean decides. Somewhat stunned, Casey keeps a hold of the wrangler’s gaze, giving him a second to reconsider. When he doesn't, she creates a little distance and straightens her back. “Alright then,” she huffs. “Your loss.” The brunette strides away towards the bar, leaving the poker players in awkward silence. Ash and Garth follow the gorgeous beauty with their eyes, then simultaneously turn their heads to look at Dean, perplexed. “Dude, did you just piss off two women in one minute? That's impressive, even for you,” Ash comments. Jo snorts, her beer almost coming from her nose. Dean glares at her. “What?” she counters. “You just turned down a female specimen of the human race. We should call 12 News.” “Are you done?” Dean replies, agitated. Before Jo can throw in another cocky counter, Benny lays down a flush and gets up as he clears his throat. “If you kids will excuse me. I've got a fish to reel in. Keep the change." He winks at Dean, who nods back at his friend as a sign of consent. The head wrangler held his part of the agreement, and Benny is going to take full advantage of that. He watches how the farrier settles down on the barstool next to Casey, complimenting the beautiful girl with his irresistible accent, after which he offers her a drink. “That slick Southern bastard, he’s going to have her in his bed before she knows it,” Ash says, eying at the pair with an impressed look on his face, but then he rises from his seat. “How about some pool, y’all?” Garth gets up to follow him, but Dean declines. “I'll be right up,” Jo promises. When the guys move over, Jo corners her cousin. She gets up, walks around the long table and feels his forehead. “Jo, don't be ridiculous.” He smacks her hand away. “I'm not sick.” “Then what the hell is going on with you?” she asks, confronting. “Casey is your usual set of hooters to honk. Since when do you just turn that down?” “Since now,” the head wrangler answers shortly. “Why?” The head wrangler sighs annoyed. “Because I got bored.” “Because your eye caught something shinier,” Jo corrects. “Dean, Y/N is off limits.” “Says who?!” he argues. “Says me!” “You can't tell me who I can or can't--” “- fuck and dump when you're done with her?" his little cousin interveans. "Yeah, I can! She's my friend, damn it!” “Your friend?” Dean scoffs, fighting with Jo as siblings would. “You barely know her. This is her fifth day!” “Since when is there a mandatory minimum time on friendship?” she cries out. “I care about her and you know just as well as I do that she’s gonna end up with the trash like Casey.” Dean shrugs, finding her arguments invalid. “Casey doesn’t give a shit.” “But Y/N will,” Jo brings to mind. “You will leave her a heartbroken mess when you’re done with her. She’ll go home cryin’ and you know damn well we’re gonna need her.” That comment triggers Dean to furrow his brow. Being the daughter of the owner has its perks. Apparently, she’s aware of the financial problems that are threatening the company. “How much do you know?” Dean questions with a lowered voice. “I know there's gonna be a layoff and that we are gonna need all the free help we can get,” Jo states, whispering. The head wrangler sighs, checking on his crew at the pool table. His eyes linger when he spots Ash, who pockets number thirteen and repositions himself behind the white ball for his next turn. “Dean, you can't afford to screw around,” his cousin adds. I’m not screwing around, is on the tip of his tongue, but he keeps his mouth shut. He’s not going to let his cousin in on something he doesn’t understand himself. “She's not going anywhere, I'll make sure of that,” Dean assures, calmer than a moment ago. “She better not, ‘cause if she does, that’s gonna be on you.” With those words, the youngest Singer gets up and heads for the pool table as well. Dean watches her, staying behind with only his beer for company. Burdened, he drops his head, his jaw tensing. Great. One of his good friends is going to get fired next week, he doesn't feel like blowing off steam with Casey, and Jo won't even allow him to be with the girl he’s after. Not that she's falling for his usual tricks, anyway. Just fucking great. With a sigh he downs his beer, which lost its spark, causing him to make a face at the bland taste. Then he gets up and exits the Saloon. Leaving the muffled sounds of music, conversation, and laughter behind, he slouches down the porch. The evenings are pleasantly warm, now that the monsoon season is reaching the home stretch. The night sky is so clear, that a thick ribbon of stars meanders across, the absence of light pollution allowing the Milky Way to shine brightly. Going over tonight’s decisions once again, Dean heads towards the bunkhouse, when two individuals catch his eye. About a hundred yards ahead, Benny has his arm around Casey as they stroll up to the front door. Before he opens it, she tiptoes when the farrier turns towards her, meeting him in a hot kiss. “Benny, you sly dog,” Dean grins. Surely, he grants his friend the home run, but a part of him thinks of passing up Casey as a loss, now that he will be left empty-handed. The early night isn't going to happen either, since Benny’s room is next to his. He halts as the two enter the bunkhouse, passionately making out, then he breathes out a humid cloud of air. No way in hell he is going to listen to those two banging their heads against the backboard for the rest of the evening. Dean turns around, considering to head back to the Saloon, but then he notices the lighted outdoor arena. He almost forgot; Y/N is still at the barn. Maybe this evening does not have to be a total loss after all. Jo’s voice whales in the back of his mind, but it doesn't stop him from heading over. He’s just going to have a talk to clear the air, no harm in that, right? Under the stars, he strolls towards the outdoor arena, listening to the crickets which chirp loudly in the dry grass. The two lanterns spread brightness over the otherwise dark and deserted lands, creating long shadows on the ground where the fencing blocks the rays. A horse moves steadily on a large circle, relaxed and in harmony with her rider. Y/N has not noticed Dean yet, too concentrated to pick up on the spectator. There is a peacefulness in the air that distracts him from the troubles on his mind. The coolness of the night causes Meadow to breathe out warm clouds with every third beat of the gait, leaving a misty trail behind her, like a steam train puffing out clouds rhythmically. The silhouette of horse and rider passes by the fence every time they come between the wrangler and the light is as if he’s watching an eclipse. It brings a smile to the cowboy’s face. Bobby was right; Y/N is talented.

Slowly, he strolls up to the gate, moving into the yellow rays coming from the high masts. This time she does notice him and eyes the head wrangler, perplexed. He is the last person she expected to see here at this hour, especially since Casey couldn't wait to drag him away to do all kinds of dirty things to him. “H - hey,” she stammers, half surprised, half confused. “How is she doing?” he wonders while nodding at the horse, more to get the conversation going. Suddenly self-conscious about every move she makes, Y/N sits back slightly and lets her mare transition to an easy walk, loosening the reins and petting her on the shoulder with her free hand. “She’s good, a little fresh,” she responds. “I didn't expect you here.” “I was on my way to the bunkhouse, saw the lights,” Dean explains casually. The rider barely smiles at that, still unsure how to behave around him after the way she left the Saloon thirty minutes ago. An awkward silence follows and she decides to continue her training to keep busy. With a forward motion of the hand and a small aid with the legs, Meadow swiftly pushes into a lope, head down and light on the bit, as she should be. The muscles of the well-developed Quarter horse roll under her shiny coat with every stride, flexing and relaxing again. It might look like child’s play, and yet Y/N was less nervous for the Nationals last year than she is now. She can feel Dean’s eyes on her, watching every move closely. As he does, the wrangler climbs the steel fence, hooking his heels behind the middle bar and resting the palm of his hands on the top one for balance. Intrigued, he observes the training, reading into her skills. Now that she’s aware of him, her riding seems a little stiffer than it was before. Is she actually nervous now that he's here? His presumption is confirmed when she turns in the other direction halfway in a circle through a flying change. Her timing is far from perfect and the horse changes from a left to a right lope a stride too late, unable to translate the aid into an action before the perfect moment mid-stride. Despite the mistake, Y/N tussles Meadow’s manes. For a second Dean wonders if it’s because she didn't recognize the timing being off, but then she performs the exercise again, nailing it this time. Dean smiles at that, content with her method of training. Meadow did exactly what her rider inquired of her, it was the rider who inquired wrong. Where plenty would have corrected the horse or even punished it, Y/N didn't, because she was very much aware that it was a human error. After only a couple of minutes, he has a pretty good idea what kind of rider she is. Truly feeling what happens under the saddle is something most people will never get down. It’s almost like an extra sense, a skill only so many equestrians have. Y/N is one of those gifted equestrians. How she handled that communication error, is what separates horse riding from horsemanship. Satisfied, Y/N uses her seat to bring Meadow back to an easy walk, after which Y/N lets her move around freely; the mare is done for today. Now that her horse doesn't require her full attention any more, she is forced to deal with the handsome yet overbearing spectator. Why on earth is he even here? Isn't he supposed to be getting laid right now? Oh yes, seeing him with Casey rubbed her the wrong way. She’s fully aware of that fact, and he probably is too. Should she have let him push her buttons like that? No. Was it his intention to mess her up? Probably not. Was she overreacting when she barked at him back at the Saloon? Maybe a little. “Feel better now?” he asks out of the blue. Y/N furrows her brow, glancing over when she rides by his spot on the fence, trying to sense in which direction he is going. “What do you mean?” Dean shrugs, dropping his gaze to the sand for a moment. “For me, a good ride usually works as a stress reliever, and you seemed on edge earlier.” As the rider cools down Meadow by walking her on a free rein, she considers her options carefully before she speaks. Darn, so he did notice. Then again, the sneer she fired at him was hard to miss. Denying it isn't going to do her much good, so she might as well skip past it. “I'm fine. Who needs meditation when you spend time on the back of a horse, right?” she replies. She wasn't keeping up an appearance, because Dean is right. Her mood did change for the better the moment she opened the stable door and was greeted by her four-legged friend. By the time she settled on her back, the whole thing seemed silly and unimportant. “Especially on a horse like that. She’s good,” Dean compliments. “The rider could use a lesson or two…” Y/N stares at him over her shoulder self consciously, turning Meadow around to face the cowboy. Is he serious? But when she spots the smirk on the wrangler’s face, followed by the subtle wink, she cannot help but chuckle. “Let me guess: you should be the one teaching me,” she fills in. “I can't think of anyone more capable,” he grins, his eyes sparkling like the stars above. “Of course you can't,” she laughs as Meadow halts, allowing her to swing her leg over the back and smoothly lower herself until her feet reach the ground. Glad to have gotten rid of the awkwardness, Dean gets down from the fence and opens the gate. Y/N leads the Quarter mare to the tack up area under the tree and her company follows, hitting the light switch when he passes it. The arena spots die down, leaving the only light to come from inside the barn together with the moon and galaxy above. As she takes off Meadow’s bridle and replaces it with a leather halter, she cannot help but to analyze herself. When she angrily speed-walked from the Saloon to the stable with her fists clenched in her pockets, she was calling Dean out for being a dirty scumbag with no respect for women whatsoever. But now that he’s here and apparently still takes an interest in her, a part of her is thrilled by that matter, and steadily overrules. Y/N, you know better than this! He just wants to get in your pants! He will dispose of you like an empty coffee container when he’s done with you! She continues the inner dialogue while loosening the girth, after which she lifts the heavy saddle off Meadow’s back. “I got it,” Dean says, taking over the twenty-five-pound load. He holds the back of the saddle on his hip, balancing it by gripping the gullet. As if it weighs nothing at all, the wrangler heads to the tack room. Amused, Y/N watches him from under her Stetson hat, her eyes taking him in from top to bottom. Oh, you just cannot help yourself, can you? Meadow snorts impatiently and rubs her head against her shoulder. She is making herself perfectly clear; the Queen doesn't have time for this and wants to get to her hay, pronto. After a quick brush Y/N leads her to her stable and puts a rug on the horse to protect her from the cold in the early hours. Buried in thoughts, she enters the tack room where Dean is about to put the saddle away. She watches him push the saddle upon the highest rack on the wall, his strong arms working under his plaid shirt. “Can I ask you something?” she wonders while she stores away the brushes, leg protection, and bridle. “Shoot,” he says, as the two of them exit the room, which the head wrangler locks up. The cowgirl hesitates, her footsteps suddenly loud and obvious when she begins to walk down the hall between the stables. “It might be a little straightforward--” “Really? You being straightforward?” he interrupts, a smug grin on his face. “Now, that I wasn't expecting.” She glares at the handsome cowboy, but can't suppress the smile either. The sarcasm is practically dripping off his comment and she bumps her shoulder into his. “Watch it,” she warns. “You’re not entirely on my good side yet.” A last glance into the quiet stable is sufficient to reassure Dean that the horses are alright until the final feeding round. He leaves the light on for his uncle and exits the barn through the large doors. “Yeah, about that. What did I do to make you storm off?” The two of them walk out, back to the tack up area. For a moment Y/N thinks of an answer, but nothing that she can come up with sounds reasonable. To be fair, she’s not even sure if she’s ready to admit why she got so frustrated with him. Dean is a free man, who can see whoever and do whatever he pleases. Yet when Casey put her arms around him and got intimate, she felt a prick in her heart. Her stupid, stupid heart wanted to be the one close to him, even though her smart mind is trying to keep it together and do the respectable thing. “It was nothing, really,” she excuses, not giving him much of an explanation. Dean glances aside, reading into the doubt in her voice. What is it, that she doesn't want to tell him? Could it be, that in that moment, she was jealous of Casey? He thinks about it for a second, as he slowly strolls to the big Joshua tree in the center of the square. He has played a lot of girls, but that sure as hell was not what he was doing here. He never intended to lure Y/N out of hiding, though her response to the situation raises a question. If watching him and another girl really bothered her that much, does that mean that she is interested in him? Confused, he bites the inside of his cheek as he halts. “What did you want to ask me?” he wonders. For a moment there, she was lost in her own mind, but then Y/N redirects her focus and turns around to face him. Curious, he observes the young woman as he leans against the bark of the tall Yucca tree. The sight of Mister Green Eyes wonderingly looking over, forces her to take a breath before she speaks. Stars reflect in his pupils, the moon painting their surroundings in a silver hue. It reminds her of the hills back home, covered in frost at the arrival of winter. Dean’s short hair has been tousled by the hat he took off and now holds by the brim. The up-to-no-good smile is gone, but he seems content either way. God, isn't he lovely. Annoyed with herself for thinking such things, she looks down, figuring that not being mesmerized by his gorgeous looks might help her keep it together. “I was just wondering…” she starts insecure. “I - I mean, you and Casey… Are you two…?” Dean frowns at the presumption. So it was about Casey. “Together? No.” He huffs, unable to picture it. “She and some friends rent a house here for a week or two a year to blow off some steam. We’ve hooked up a couple of times whenever she comes over, but it doesn't mean anything.” Y/N digests the information and keeps her gaze pinned on the hat in his hands. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything. See? He doesn't care about Casey and he surely won't care about her either. But if he doesn't care for Casey, she doesn’t have to compete with anyone. Wait... She’s not actually considering making a move, is she? Y/N, you are under no circumstances making a move! she tells herself sternly. God, this is what schizophrenia must feel like. Trying to distract herself from the voices in her head, she carries on with the conversation. “I'm sorry for asking. I know it’s none of my business, but I - I cannot help to wonder…” Now she does look up, a little shocked when she realizes how close Dean is. His eyes are on her, peeling away the layers as he tries to make sense of what she’s struggling to say. “If Casey is at the ranch, why are you here with me?” Stunned, Dean keeps a hold of her gaze. She isn’t asking the obvious, but that is a damn good question. Casey offered herself on a silver plate back in the Saloon. Dean never experienced much trouble with the ladies, yet the brunette, in particular, couldn't wait to open her legs for the wrangler. He could have had her in his bed right now, letting her do all kinds of delightful things to him. Yet here he is, opposite of the girl that has been giving him a hard time from the get-go. The thought of Casey did nothing for him, he simply wasn’t interested in the regular ranch guest. Why is that? Brought out of balance by the question, he chuckles nervously and breaks eye contact, fiddling with the brim of his hat again. Slowly it starts to sink in. Why he would much rather be here with Y/N under the Joshua tree. Why he felt the need to protect her from Benny’s lust. Why he lost interest in any other girl. Why every wandering thought, every daydream he had in the past week, was somehow about the one person standing before him. He looks up at her again and something within him changes. A tightness in his chest that he has never experienced before makes it difficult to swallow. It's unpleasant, scary even, but the sight of her waiting in wonder takes away the discomfort. The faint light from the night’s sky caresses her hair and smooth skin. A pair of gorgeous eyes framed with long lashes watch, traces of hesitation in them, but also curiosity. God, she’s beautiful, he thinks to himself.

Dean fails to answer her question with words. He doesn't have to. His mouth falls open just a little as he looks deep into her eyes with an intensity she is unfamiliar with, simply because no one has ever looked at her like that before. As if only now he came to realize what is happening between the two of them. He can tell that she understands now, because her insecurity makes way for astonishment. “Oh…” she responds, flustered, a shy smile growing larger. He mirrors her expression without letting go of her gaze. His pupils bounce between hers as he leans in hesitatingly. Every fiber he consists of wants to kiss the enchanting cowgirl before him and he cannot stop his eyes from flicking down at her lips for just a moment, then up again. Would she let him? What are you waiting for? Just go for it, Dean lectures himself. This isn't the first time he’s kissed a girl, however, doubt overwhelms him. What if she pulls back? What if he ruins it? Could he handle that? Before the cowboy can decide to act or not to act, she looks down and lets out a shuddering breath, the anticipation becoming too much. “Are you cold?” he asks kindly, quickly covering up the awkwardness. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and nods. Not only did Meadow get a workout, so did her rider. Her clammy undershirt has turned stone cold and sends goosebumps down her arms. Or is it Dean who is doing that? “Let’s get inside. Wouldn't want you to catch something,” he suggests, not having a jacket to offer. She agrees to that, because the warmth of the bunkhouse sounds pretty good. In silence they stroll towards the cabin, her shoulders hunched in an attempt to keep the cold at bay, as Dean walks by her side. Overcome by the rush of mixed emotions, she glances at him from under her hat. He seems to be pondering, without a doubt going over the past minute. That one moment that Dean’s reason for wanting to be around her became clear, with nothing more than a look. Holy mother, he was going to kiss you, and you glanced down? Why would you do that? What were you thinking?! She could kick herself in the head right about now. It was the responsible thing to do, to avoid things from getting complicated, to keep their relationship strictly business. But dear God, she wanted him to close that gap and press his lips on hers. Dean walks up the porch and opens the door, after which he holds the fly curtain aside so that Y/N can pass through. As soon as she steps into the bunkhouse, peculiar sounds coming from one of the rooms draw her attention. Squeaking in a steady pace mixed with moans of both male and female, followed by a muffled ‘oh yeah’ and ‘right there’. Dean, who was about to pull the door shut, freezes mid-action when the noise reaches his hearing. Well then, this situation just went through the awkward scale. Y/N slowly turns to him, eyes wide in shock as she mouths ‘Oh my god!’ and he can't contain the quiet laughter. “Who’s in there?” she whispers. “My two cents: Benny and Casey,” he replies, keeping his voice down. “Are you serious?” she returns, watching him shrug. “She lost no time, did she?” “Like I said: it didn't mean anything,” he assures, grinning at her judgment. “Besides, you’re much better company anyway.” Y/N can feel the heat rising to her face again. She opens her mouth to return the compliment, when the sounds from the other room intensify. Dear Lord, those two are really going at it. Dean chuckles, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “I'm gonna get some shut-eye, if I can with those rabbits next door.” “Yeah, me too,” she says, shaking her head as she makes a mental note to dig up a set of earplugs from her suitcase. In the doorway Y/N turns around, granting herself a last look at the man that is stealing her heart away. “Good night.” “G’night,” Dean returns with a soft voice, keeping a hold of her gaze as well until she shuts the door. The sounds of the couple in the other room is all that is left, a painful reminder of his loneliness. Could this evening have played out differently if he had kissed her? It probably could have. Shit, what if he wasted his only shot? For a few seconds the wrangler lingers, but then turns towards his room, where he sits down on the edge of his empty bed. Banning the noises of pleasure next door from his mind, Dean forks his fingers together as he leans his forearms on his knees. He's so confused by his own thoughts and how he’s responding to them, that he doesn't seem to know himself anymore. For some reason his conscience is telling him not to rush this, to take it one step at a time. What if for once in his life, this could grow into something more than just a fling? At the same time, another voice raises awareness for the mixed signals she’s been giving, because she hasn’t exactly sent him a private invitation. And even if she does go along with it for a little while, what happens when she truly gets to know him? What happens when she learns about his tainted past, the family drama, his flaws and missteps? What happens when she sees him for who he truly is, under the mask and the pile of bullshit? The only reason why he can live with himself is because he swept the dirt under the carpet a long time ago and keeps pretending it's not there. When she knows, she will leave, he’s sure of it, and the thought of that alone scares him already. But it’s his heart that shouts the loudest, practically begging to throw himself at her. His heart which was rooting for that kiss. His heart which finally seems to have found what it had been silently waiting for. Pondering, Dean rubs his face and glances at the desk clock on his nightstand, which shows the time at 10.47 PM. Next to it, a picture stares back, portraying his Mom with her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling her four-year-old son against her chest lovingly. Like he has so many times over the years, he wishes she was still alive. Right about now, this lost wanderer could use someone to point him in the right direction.

The pining! They were so close! Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eight here

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mmazzeroo · 6 years ago

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Chapter 16: JON IV - Kintsugi is a Silent Proof of Survival

@helloimnotawesome - Chapter 16 is up! Thank you SO much for the lovely moodboard! I’m adding it to this chapter. Couldn’t wait to use it lol. Hope you’ll enjoy this chapter! More coming soon. Love ya, sis!

JON IV - Kintsugi is a Silent Proof of Survival:

"That's a big campfire, guys. Did you chop down half a forest somewhere? It's supposed to be a campfire, not a bonfire."

"Actually this is a bonfire. The campfire is over there." He waved an arm in the general direction somewhere to his right and chuckled as he noticed his brother's frown. "And no, we didn't chop down half a forest. A third maybe but definitely not half." He winked at Robb as he walked over to the campfire where Bran was sitting reading aloud to Aegon curled up in his lap.

"Ok...so what's the bonfire for?"

"You." He turned around to see a clearly confused Robb stare back at him. Laughingly he said "you and your betrothed. There are places in the world where lighting a bonfire for the soon-to-be married couple or newly married couple is considered good luck for the pair. The fire is said to ward off evil spirits and negative energy."

"I thought you didn't believe in the Gods."

"I don't really, but you do and what's the harm in trying to be on their good side for the sake of my brother and my soon-to-be sister-in-law?" He gave Robb a pad on the back but he was pulled in for a tight hug.

"Thank you so much, Jon. That means more than you know." Robb choked out the words.

"Anytime brother." With that Robb slowly loosened his grip and silently nodded.

As they walked around the fire pit, Arya and Dany came storming into the camp area arms waving over their heads triumphant grins on their faces.

"WHOOOOOO HOOOOO!!!!"

"The reigning Dragonstone champions remains undefeated in what is an unprecedented record of a decade long place at the number one spot." Dany did a, surprisingly, well imitation of a sports commentator as Arya kept dancing around. Her famous 'winning' dance. He tried to keep his laughing to a minimum but the priceless look on Robb's face made it very difficult.

Viserys arrived with a bat and ball in hand looking defeated and annoyed. The look Vis and Robb shared as they were surrounded by the two dancing women was just too much. He couldn't hold in his laugher any longer. When Bran and Aegon joined in the laugher as well Robb tried to shut it down.

"Alright alright, you've had your fun. Now settle down. No need to make a scene." Robb's tone made it clear he was less than amused.

Gods, their egos are so bruised it just makes it even more hilarious! He high-five'd Arya as she came dancing by once again, and grabbed ahold of Dany and pulled her in for a heated kiss.

"Beating both our brothers, huh? Atta girl!" She gave him a big proud grin. "I'm impressed but not surprised." She kissed him again. "I love you," he whispered in her ear before giving her another quick peck on the lips and letting her return to her victory dance with Arya.

"What's the matter brother?" Arya was laughing teasingly at Robb. "Is our WINNING TOO LOUD FOR YOU??" She laughed out loud as she finally sat down next to where Vis had settled down in the grass.

"No, it's just...you're a bad winner..." He was shuffling his feet while scowling at their youngest sister. "You won. Fair and square. No one is questioning it, but there's no need to be a dick about it."

"I'll stop being a dick when you stop being an asshole."

"Hey! Why am I the asshole, huh?"

"Just for the record, and I'm speaking from personal experience here, dicks and assholes tend to go very well together." Viserys chimed in clearly trying to break the tension.

"Guys, please watch you language we do have minors here." Dany cut in this time, extending her arm to where Bran and Aegon were sitting. "And for the record," she locked eyes with Vis, "eww!! That was a liiiittle too much information there, bro."

"Hey, all I'm saying is that I've never heard Lancel complain." He gave her a wink and this time even Robb couldn't help laughing. Thank the gods for Vis and his wisecracking mouth.

"Ok guys, parent alert, so maybe we could all try to behave age appropriately for a bit?" No chance of that but here's to hoping. At least they've been warned. They all looked at him as he was pointing to where their parents were walking up to them.

Just then Marg, Sansa and Rhaenys were joining them as well. Aegon leapt out of Bran's lap as he saw who was walking right behind the girls.

"Daddy!"

"Hey!" Rhae swooped Aegon up in his arms. "How's my little man? Having fun?"

"YES! Jon showed me how to build a fire and Bran's been reading dragon stories." The boy looked over his dad's shoulder. "Where's mommy?"

"I'm sorry kiddo, but there was an emergency so mommy had to stay at the hospital."

"Oh." There was a small pause and then he asked, "but she'll help them like she helped Jon and the butterflies?"

"That's right."

"Then I'm not sad she's not here. They need her more than I do." He's adorable with that thoughtful frown on his little serious looking face. Same frown his father has on his face from time to time.

"That's very sweet of you, Aegon, but you know it's always ok to miss you mom, right?"

The boy nodded and smiled up at his dad who rewarded him with a kiss on his forehead.

Margaery tapped Aegon on his shoulder. "May I ask yhy do you call the babies butterflies?"

"Because they're part Naathi, and mommy told me that Naath is known for having lots and lots of beautiful butterflies. So if Starks are wolves, we're dragons and you're a rose then they must be butterflies, right?" Or maybe winged horses? Pegasus?

"Can't argue with that logic!" Marg flashed a big smile at Aegon who, still sitting on his father's arm, looked very proud.

"What's going on here?" Ned was pointing at the bonfire.

"Jon has made a bonfire for Marg and I to ward of evil spirits and negative energies as a way to wish us a happy marriage."

"Oh Jon, that's so sweet." Margaery rushed over, crouched beside him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem." He quickly lowered his eyes to the ground. Oh gods, if I'd know it's get this much attention for it not sure I would've done it. He tried to occupy himself by stirring in the pot.

Dany was there instantly gently taking his free hand in hers. She spoke to him in almost a whisper. "Just breathe, my love. This is what family love feels like. It's alright. You're safe. Just take it in bit by bit one breath at a time."

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. He blew out a breath and nodded. A little wobbly smile on his lips.

"That's it." She smiled back at him and those beautiful purple eyes looked at him with such affection. "I love you." Quick kiss on the lips and she got back up.

It was then he realised that Marg had been sitting quietly by his other side, waiting, and only when Dany got up so did she - with another quick peck on his cheek.

Clearing his throat he said, "dinner is ready, so please grab a bowl and help yourself to a serving."

"It smells delicious!" Sansa's kind voice sounded quietly behind him. "What's on the menu?"

"In the Watch we called it 'soldier stew' - it's basically ground meat, bacon, smoked sausages, beans, some chopped tomatoes and onions, and a mix of spices. On the side is some freshly made bread."

"Wow! My big brother the master chef!" Sansa teasingly gave him a little shove with her shoulder.

Robb chuckled, "you're saying you can only cook 'soldier food'?"

"Unfortunately yes." He sighed pretending to be disappointed in his own abilities. "Sadly it was just too much of a hassle to bring a cook and maids with us out on missions. Too many unnecessary people to protect." He smirked and winked at Robb.

"Oh, thanks for the info Mr. Sassy-Pants!" His brother flashed one of his signature bright smiles and winked back.

There was a low rumble of sporadic laughter around the fire from the rest of the company. He looked around making sure everyone had a bowl, before scooping up some stew for himself.

"Cat, is there a chance of me holding my children again today or—"

"—not a chance, buddy! They're mine until tomorrow! You can get to kiss them goodnight before we go back indoors, but that's it."

Chuckling he sat down his bowl and held his hands up in the air as a sign of surrendering. "Duly noted, Lady Stark," he said and lowered his head in respect.

The exchange was sprinkled with laugher from everyone around them.

"You hear that, sweetlings." She was looking at Adei in her lap and Amador in Rhaella's, "you'll be sleeping in same room as Grandma Cat and Grandpa Ned tonight."

Everyone erupted in loud laughter at the surprised look on Ned's face.

"Don't worry dad. For months now they've been sleeping through the night. You shouldn't have any trouble."

Playfully placing a hand on his heart and eyes to the sky, his breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank the Old Gods and the New!" Then Ned caught his eyes and winked. Love you too, dad!

"Compliments to the chef; it tastes as delicious as it smells." Once again Sansa's gentle voice called to him.

"Thanks sis. Glad you like it." Leaning in he kissed her temple.

He looked around again and everyone seemed to be occupied in conversations left and right, so he looked to Dany sitting by his other side. She gave him an almost unnoticeable nod. He quietly stood up and went over to fetch his backpack. As he sat back down he turned slightly towards Sansa.

"I know it was your name day a couple of weeks ago and I owe you a gift."

"No no, Jon, it's ok, really!" She looked at him with big worried eyes. Oh sweet sister, still so nervous to ask for something for herself. If I ever get my hands on Joffrey, I'll...Jon! Not now. Happy moment, remember?

"Nonsense! Of course you deserve a gift for your name day, Sansa. Please, let me give you something?"

She took a deep breath before slowly nodding.

He could feel how everyone had gone quiet and instead watching the exchange between him and Sansa.

"It isn't much and I didn't wrap it." He pulled a porcelain bowl out of his bag.

Sansa's breathe hitched, "oh Jon, it's beautiful!"

"Careful!" Laughing he caught her in his arms she gave him a tight hug.

When she let go tears were streaming down her cheeks. "Thank you thank you thank you! I don't know what to say!"

"What did you get?" Bran was stretching his neck trying to see.

"This!" Sansa proudly lifted the bowl in her hand.

"A broken bowl?" Arya asking disapprovingly.

"How dare you question Jon's gift for me! Just because you don't understand it's meaning!"

"Sansa, it's alright." He tried laying a calming hand on her arm, but she kept going.

"No, it's not ok, Jon." She glanced at him before turning to glare at Arya. "The gift was for me so the main concern should be whether I like it, not if others do!"

"Alright geez! Sorry I said anything."

Arya, the queen of sarcasm. He managed to hold in his laugh. Didn't want to hurt Sansa. She was finally finding the courage to bite back at their wild sister. It had taken months before she seemed to fully trust him. At first he didn't understand why she was so cautious, but when she finally started talking to him it all made sense. When she finally decided she could trust him and began telling her story it wasn't like diving into a pond here and there like with Arya - with Sansa it was as if the dam had broken and there was nothing holding back the flood.

She told him how school had been a living nightmare for her. Despite Robb and Dany doing what they could to protect her, they weren't in her year and thus didn't have same classes as her. Joffrey was always there. Teasing, bullying her, laughing at her and making fun of her. Everything about her - her clothes, her hair, her face, her walk, her voice, her handwriting, her notes, the way she held her pen, the way she ate, the way she held her cup, her walking, her standing. Everything! He'd follow her around the school hallways just to laugh at her. He'd send her notes in class, leave notes in her books and bag, send messages on her phone and all her online profiles. She could never avoid it. He was always there. She'd deleted all her profiles, stopped using her phone. Becoming completely isolated. He was still there. In her head. Like a ghost. She started cutting herself. Leaving scars on her arms. She started thinking of ways to take her own life. All just to get away from him. She only stopped after Ned had caught her one day as she was cutting herself. She said she'd never seen him so terrified and heartbroken. For a couple of years after that she was homeschooled, an Essosi therapist, Varys, had helped her through the worst. Joffrey and Ramsey were sent off to boarding school in Astapor, and she had dared getting back in school for her final year of high school.

Jon had just sat there quietly listening, steaming internally, and as Sansa was crying in his arms and fell asleep from exhaustion he was thinking of numerous ways he could kill Joffrey having it look like accidents. It had been part of his training after all. Killing wasn't just aim and shoot. That night he let his mind run down that very dark path he knew all too well. By the time Sansa woke up though, he had calmed back down. If he ever met Joffrey Lannister though.....if he caught him jaywalking the kid would never see the light of day again!

"Yes Arya, the bowl was broken but Jon has had it mended. With gold." She held up the bowl again. So carefully like she was holding an infant. The campfire reflected in her eyes. Mirroring her internal fire finally burning through? "It's an art form called 'Kintsugi'. It's an Eastern practice of repairing fractures in porcelain with varnish or resin powdered with gold. They believe that the breakages and repairs form part of the history of an object and should be shown, not hidden."

He felt Dany squeeze his arm as she'd wrapped both hers around it. He glanced to the side to see Dany watching Sansa intently. As he looked around he noticed everyone smiling and their parents all seemed to have teary eyes. He was just so proud of watching her standing up for herself. Literally. Be a wolf!

Sansa turned and looked him directly in the eye as she continued, "our brother helped me see that my scars are not something shameful. Marking a painful incident with gold dust is to accept it as a jewel. Kintsugi is a silent proof of survival."

#jonerys fanfic #jonerys modern au

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mintchocolateleaves · 7 years ago

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Time Marches On

A/N: The KaiShin server asked for an angst ridden wings!AU. I could only oblige and write them this.

The thing about Icarus was that he really believed he could maintain the ‘balance’ when he got his wings. He believed in every wax feather, every beat of his manmade creation that he could survive with the unnatural.

Icarus died when he got wings.

Kaito had to die to get them.

He’s still a little confused on the particulars of his situation. There’s not much he can remember about his own death, too many memories blocked in a haze of pain and disillusion. The last moment he remembers is finding Pandora, seeking to destroy it.

Turns out destroying something immortal takes away a person’s mortality after all. Because somewhere after that, Kaito had woken up in a melancholic world where the only one’s capable of seeing him were the dying.

He’d also woken up with wings, extra limbs, that he hasn’t the faintest clue of how to navigate. Which is almost a little disheartening because as KID, he’d spent a lot of time flying, it’d be nice if he could continue to do so.

So, he’s… some sort of angel now. Kaito sees the irony, he’s had the laughs. It’d be a lot funnier, if he wasn’t, you know, dead.

There had been a funeral for him, Kaito knows there must have been. He’d woken up shivering, wings folded over his body, beside a tombstone with his name scrawled across it. Beloved son, had been placed next to Beloved father, and Kaito hadn’t know whether to cry or curse.

(Later he’d noticed dirt beneath his fingernails, and Kaito had realised that he must have dug his way out, clawed his way out from the casket he’d been buried in.)

Nature remains the same for him �� the breeze is chilling against his body, the grass prickly against his bare feet – so clawing his way out was really the only option. If he thinks about it properly that is. Kaito’s not really that sure why, but with so much time to simply think, he’s decided that it’s probably because nature doesn’t look away from death in the same way Humanity does.

Humans, Kaito summarises, cannot see him in the way nature can, because they’re constantly avoiding the stare of death.

It’s quite… sad… now that Kaito can take a step back and simply see.

“Well…” he mutters to himself, glancing around, “what is there left for me now?”

Animals can see him, yes, but he can’t spend all his time surrounded by animals. He needs to hear some sort of conversation, find someone else in the same situation – even if that means finding someone who’s… someone who’s willing to stare death in the eye.

He starts with hospitals. There are always deaths, always people willing to talk to an angel who might guide them towards the end more easily – their words, not his. Many of them tell him stories, families believing they’re delusional even though for the first time, these people can truly see.

“I lost my wife,” one older man whispers now, “a few years ago. She was murdered… I can’t wait to see her again. Will you make sure I find her again?”

Like with all the other people who have viewed him as a guardian angel in the past, Kaito feels unable to deny them. He doesn’t know what happens to those who die, but they never join him in this… nothingness.

Instead of arguing, he nods.

“Tell me about your wife,” Kaito whispers, “so I know who to point you towards.”

He’s told about a marriage, the kind of marriage Kaito had once wanted with… He shakes his head, keeps listening. And then, there’s a mention of a name that makes his stomach drop, heart aching in his chest.

“She was murdered, but we’d have never known the truth about how without that police investigator Kudo Shinichi.”

Kaito tries not wince, does so anyway, and finds that he has to look away. The thought of Shinichi, the smiles they’d once shared brings him more pain. And to think he’d been trying so hard to avoid thinking of the man he’d wanted to spend an eternity with.

“That name,” the patient across from him whispers, “you find it hard to hear?”

Kaito turns to look him in the eye, offers the rawest resemblance of a smile at the words. The truth hardly seems appropriate – how can he say they’d been engaged, preparing to marry without receiving some sort of pity? – so he decides to lie.

“I’m his guardian angel,” Kaito says, “and I’ve just… there’s so much to save him from, that sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

All of the things Kaito had done to keep Shinichi safe. The dramatic spectacle of KID vs Conan, it all feels redundant now. Kaito is gone, and Shinichi is without him and nothing will ever even the guilt Kaito feels about have left Shinichi behind.

“If you’re his guardian angel,” the other whispers, “then why are you listening to me whiter on?”

Kaito offers him a smile, “Shinichi is the type who’d feel selfish if I spent all my time watching over him.”

He finally finds the courage to seek Shinichi out, months after his death. Or rather – months after he’d clawed his way through dirt, because he’d been dead for at least a year before then.

(Time is rather inconsistent for him now, sometimes a month feels like a day. Other times a day seems like eternity.)

There’s a silence to Shinichi that Kaito doesn’t remember. It’s overwhelming, like a black fog buffering around him, incapable of being broken through. It’s brings a shiver to Kaito, as he follows behind the detective.

He’s thrown himself into his case work. Kaito can see as much from the bags under his cheeks, the pale sheen to his skin. He’s exhausted, and Kaito knows that there’s nothing he can do to help.

Nothing but to be there, invisible to the eye, waiting beside Shinichi until the other man heals. There’s a break in Shinichi’s spirit, and all Kaito can do is stay by his side, watching until it pieces back together.

“Another murder…?” Shinichi mutters, as he passes police tape. Kaito ducks beneath it, wings snagging on the tap in a way that makes people assume there’s been a gust of wind. “What was the cause of death on this one?”

“Stab wound to the abdomen,” Hattori, his detective partner, mumbles, “so far it looks like a typical muggin’. Not every murder is as intricate as th’ one’s we used t’ solve.”

“Let’s take a look,” Shinichi says, following behind the Osakan, with a lack of energy and an almost inaudible sigh that ends up rattling against Kaito’s ear drums. “Hopefully we can get the murderer caught before anyone else becomes their victim.”

The crime scene is ghastly. It’s not particularly bad, not for a murder at least, but it is the loss of life and to Kaito it’s nothing short of nightmare inducing. He’s sure his dreams would be plagued by the sight alone, if he had a need for sleep. Maybe he’s lucky in that regard.

“Oh,” Shinichi says, gaze whizzing across the scene. He kneels beside the body, gets a look at the stab wound – and any other wounds on the body, before looking up. “So that’s how it must have happened.”

Kaito kneels beside him, lifts his wings up as if to block Shinichi from the wind, and tries to see things as the other man does. It’s difficult – he can’t play the scene out in his head well enough, not even seeing the lacerations and slashes on the victim’s body.

It’s something he had both admired and hated about Shinichi. His ability to wrap his mind around people’s dying moments.

“He saw the knife before the stabbing,” Shinichi says now, standing up. “See the cuts on his hand, he tried to get the knife before he was murdered. He wasn’t scared – my guess is he knew the attacker.”

Hattori leans down again, glances at the wounds. He nods his head, “yeah. I can see where ya coming from. We should start lookin’ at his acquaintances an’ work from there.”

And like that, they’ve made leeway on another case. There’s nothing Kaito can do to help him there, has to leave Shinichi to solve another meaningless murder, imprison another misguided criminal in need of rehabilitation.

“Why are you overworking yourself, Shinichi?” Kaito mutters as they walk off towards the police car. He’ll have to travel alongside it, good thing he can fly, to get to the next person. “Why won’t you take a break?”

The next murder Kaito is present at, alongside Shinichi, is at the local supermarket, when Shinichi is off duty. Kaito would like it to be known that ‘off duty’ is surrounded by quote marks, because Shinichi doesn’t take breaks, not anymore, and he’s skimming over case files on his phone while listlessly throwing groceries into his basket.

There’s a loud bang, a bullet whizzing through the air, and Kaito turns to see a man holding a gun, pointing towards the cashier. A robbery – something Kaito and Shinichi hadn’t noticed occurring because they’d been at the other end of the shop, Shinichi too engrossed in his case reports.

The detective glances up from his phone, rushes towards the robber. His own gun – police issued, meant to remain at the station when he clocks off-duty, but Shinichi won’t stop working – is raised within the time it takes for the thief to notice him.

During this time, Kaito makes his way towards the dying man.

He’s bleeding, heavily, and it’s quite easy to see that he’s going to die. Kaito knows, because the man notices him with an almost heavy gasp, lets out a small moan of ‘a-angel’.

“You want to put pressure on the wound,” Kaito says, leaning down and helping the man lift his arm to the wound in his stomach, “it’ll keep the bleeding from being too intensive.”

“An angel’s here to take me away…?” The cashier mumbles, ashen. He’s squinting as if struggling to see straight – not that Kaito can blame him, it’s always dizzying, blood-loss.

“I’m not an angel,” Kaito says, “I’m just Kaito. So, don’t worry, you’ll make it through this.”

He wishes it were true, but there’s hope in the man’s eyes when he closes them, echoing Kaito’s own name.

When he looks up, Shinichi has apprehended the robber, has called for back-up, and has the man pinned to the counter. All of that, and yet he’s staring at the body wide eyed.

Later, Kaito realises why he was so wide-eyed.

“He said Kaito’s name, Hattori,” Shinichi mutters, when the two are in their patrol car. Hattori drives, probably because they both know Shinichi’s always going to be reckless with cars. “And it, it threw me off. I almost let go of my grip hearing his name, why can’t I just move on?”

Hattori is quiet beside him. He says, “you can’t move on because you don’t know what happened.”

“But I do know what happened,” Shinichi mutters, “he wasn’t murdered, he died of natural causes, I made the doctors look repeatedly.”

A pause. And then, “I know, but ya also know it ain’t normal for a twenty-two-year-old to just drop dead o’ natural causes. Whatever the doctors said.”

Shinichi sighs. Shakes his head.

Kaito, sat in the back, wings crushed between the doors – he’d dived into the car when Hattori had opened his door, found his way to the back – feels a twinge of regret. So that’s how he’d died: He’d broken Pandora, and in return, it had broken him.

It only gets worse from there.

Shinichi only gets worse.

It’s almost like hearing the man mutter Kaito’s name has rekindled an obsession, a need to know what happened. He attacks murder scenes with a rigid mindset – catch the criminals, find who did it – empathy draining from his voice at every approaching scene.

Shinichi becomes cold.

And it’s all Kaito’s fault.

The crime scenes become increasingly more worrying, not because it’s continued death – although it is alarming when some of them see Kaito in their last moments – but because Shinichi wraps himself up in them.

Shinichi throws himself so deeply into his work, that Kaito can see it visibly pains him. The detective gets to a point where he can feel each bullet tearing through his skin, can imagine with such accuracy the pain of every laceration.

Kaito gets the impression that Shinichi wants to feel that pain. Wants to feel the pain of dying so he can be a little closer to Kaito – or maybe, maybe so he doesn’t need to think of Kaito at all. If only for a little while.

It seems to work, for a while. One month rolls into two, until it’s been another six months with little change and guilt weighing too heavily on Kaito’s conscience. Nothing really changes until one of the children at the crime scene notices the angel standing beside the ‘scary’ police detective.

She’s small, roughly five years old – just old enough to want to know the answers to everything. Still young enough that she hasn’t averted her eyes from everything else – Kaito’s certain the girl’s only slightly older than Shinichi had been when he’d first met him as Conan.

Police reports say she’s the daughter of the victim, a young girl called Miu.

The police are trying to ask questions – she’d been the only one in the house when the murder had occurred over night – when Miu turns to Shinichi and points. She says, “why does that man have wings?”

The other detectives turn to Shinichi, offer raised eyebrows. Shinichi himself seems to be taken aback, dragged out of his bad mood for almost a moment.

He says, “I don’t have wings.”

Miu shakes her head, runs up to Kaito and points at him. She says, “no, not the detective, the one standing beside him.”

It’s at this time that Kaito gets the impression that the officers think she’s daydreaming, seeing things to cope with her mother’s death. It’s why he leans down to face her, lifting his wings just high enough that she can brush her hands beneath the bottom.

“The wings are pretty,” she whispers, and most of the detective’s have gone back to their work. All of them except Shinichi – maybe he remembers his own time as a child, how foolish it would be to overlook what they’re saying.

“Thank you,” Kaito mumbles, and smiles when he realises it’s not just the dying that can see him. Children have always been more finetuned to nature than adults, have always been more observant because everything is new. “I’ve become quite fond of them.”

Miu smiles. “Are you an angel? How long have you had wings? Do they feel like arms?”

So many questions. How many will he be able to answer before the police detectives decide Miu needs to be asked more questions, or taken from the house to stay with a relative.

“I’m not an angel,” Kaito responds, “and I’ve had them for about two years.”

“Are you this detective’s partner? Or his guardian angel?”

Kaito forces a smile, “I just stay by Shinichi’s side, to make sure he’s alright. I care an awful lot about him.”

“…Shinichi…?” Miu turns to the detective in question, and then back to Kaito, “so you love him then?”

Later, in the car, Hattori has to talk about how the child has probably seen his name in the newspaper and that’s how she knew his name.

Shinichi, rather understandably, is riled. He’s confused, and his hair is almost as messy as Kaito’s is, because he keeps pulling at the ends trying to figure everything out.

“I don’t understand,” Shinichi mutters, “she knew my name, and she knew that someone who loved me died two years ago. It makes no sense?”

Hattori shakes his head, seemingly as lost. “Children are strange sometimes, ya know that. It’s just a coincidence, Kudo.”

Shinichi bites into his lips and says, “there’s no such thing as coincidence, hasn’t our work taught us that?”

The change this time is even more drastic.

Shinichi had dived into his work after the cashier’s death. Now, following the conversation of Miu, he almost stops having a life outside of work altogether. Before, he’d had the skeleton of a social life – dinners with close friends or visiting parents.

Now, he turns the offers away.

Shinichi reads files on robberies and cold cases. And sometimes, during the darker parts of the evening, when insomnia keeps him awake, lingers into the hour of the dead, Shinichi pulls open a folded case file on something he’s never been able to fully solve.

Kaito’s smile is on one of the pages. Next to the photograph is a printed copy of his complete medical history, and after that: His history as KID.

The one case Shinichi cannot solve. The last case Kaito left him.

“Stop obsessing over me,” Kaito mutters one night, despite knowing that the other man can’t see him, “there’s no answer in these files for you. Please.”

Shinichi doesn’t move on.

If anything, he takes a step back.

“It’s like you’re haunting me,” Shinichi mutters one night, when it’s nearing four a.m, and he’s nursing a headache with peppermint tea. “Goddammit Kaito, you weren’t really a phantom, why are you haunting me like this?”

Kaito sighs.

“I don’t know,” he whispers.

“There’s something behind all this,” Shinichi says in the patrol car one night, sat next to Hattori. “I know there is, it wouldn’t make sense if there wasn’t something causing all of this confusion.”

“Kudo, it’s not some conspiracy. It’s just a–”

The sound of a gunshot pierces through their conversation. At once, adrenaline is rushing through Kaito’s body, even though he knows there’s no way he can be shot.

“Request for backup Hattori,” Shinichi says, opening his door. He’s out within seconds and Kaito dives out of the car after him, his feathers getting caught in the door.

There’s no way he can open the door, so Kaito pulls at his wings until feathers snag from his skin, a sharp shooting pain spreading across his back. Droplets of blood drip from the bottom of his wings, and Kaito forces himself not to whimper.

Hattori’s voice shouts out for backup and for Shinichi to wait, but of *course* Shinichi doesn’t. He races forwards, hands reaching down to the gun holstered at his waist, arming himself.

It’s a murder. Point blank.

Kaito knows the look of killers, having been following Shinichi around for a while now. Having stood beside him during cases.

“Put your hands up!” Shinichi shouts, gun raised. The suddenness of his appearance must throw the man off, because he doesn’t put his hands up – he shoots instead.

Seconds later, there’s a flash from Shinichi’s gun, and Kaito watches as the man falls. Kaito’s just glad that Shinichi hasn’t–

“Kaito?”

The thief reels back at the sound of his name, and then, he balks. He says, “Shinichi? You were…?”

Shinichi glances down, follows Kaito’s gaze to the wet patch against his black coat. Blood pools against the fabric, and when Shinichi presses his hand against the coat, red stains it.

Shock rids his expression of any other feeling, and Kaito isn’t sure whether it’s the sight of him, or the fact that he’s bleeding out.

“It’s really you.” Shinichi says, and he’s wobbly on his feet. Kaito surges forwards, helps Shinichi down to his feet as best he can – he’s not physically present, not able to hold him, but the psychological aspect helps Shinichi to sit down at least. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I know,” Kaito says. He’s never usually lacked words when it comes to speaking, especially not with Shinichi, but what is he supposed to say? ‘Sorry that I died?’ It’s not as simple as that.

“But it’s not really you is it,” Shinichi mutters, turning his eyes away, “I’m just seeing you because of… this.”

He waves towards the blood. And then, in an attempt to grab the attention of anyone around him, he calls, entirely too weakly to be heard, for help. For Hattori to come save him.

There’s no way to convince him that it’s really him, so Kaito decides not to bother. Shinichi’s going to be glad either way to see him. Arguing at this point is just useless.

“You need to shout a little louder,” Kaito says, wrapping his wings around the man so the cold doesn’t seep into his bones. “If you don’t, no one will hear.”

Shinichi shakes his head, “why did you die, I don’t understand. Why did you leave me?”

“I’ve not left you,” Kaito says, and there’s a desperation in his voice now, his hands trembling with trepidation. “I’ve been with you this whole time, Shinichi, you just can’t see me.”

“You’re dead.”

The tone is blunt, almost venom-like with how angry it seems. Of course, Shinichi isn’t just sad about his death, but angry too. If he’d been murdered, if there had been any signs then Shinichi could have found a way to understand. But he’s left the detective with one riddle that’s to complex to solve.

“I know.” A pause. “It’s because I found Pandora.”

Shinichi opens his mouth, falters on the words. Kaito takes it as a sign to keep going:

“Remember the stories of an immortal stone? What do you think happens to something when it loses it’s immortality?”

“It dies.”

Wide-eyed, Shinichi shudders the words into the silence. He’s always been able to solve KID’s riddles, even if he does sometimes require a small push. This realisation, it almost seems enough to make the other realise it’s really him.

(Either that, or Shinichi’s beginning to wish it’s Kaito. But really, isn’t that the same thing as believing?)

He calls for help now. Louder, a high enough voice that Kaito’s certain he can hear footsteps racing towards them both – Hattori’s footsteps.

“Kaito?” Shinichi mutters, “can I ask you for something?”

Kaito offers him a smile – the half-smile, half-smirk he’d reserved for only Shinichi – and says, “for you, anything.”

“Will you stay with me?” Shinichi doesn’t specify for how long, but Kaito knows he means until the very end. And God forbid, Kaito will find a way to make sure that the end is as far away as the end of time.

Somehow – somehow, he’ll make sure Shinichi lives for the both of them.

“How could I ever leave you,” Kaito says, resting his forehead against Shinichi’s, his hands entangles in Shinichi’s, “not even death could tear me away from you.”

He keeps his hands wrapped around Shinichi’s, even after Hattori arrives. Even after the paramedics arrive, placing Shinichi into one of the ambulances.

Kaito doesn’t let go until he’s certain he’s out of Shinichi’s vision, and the other man can’t see death anymore.

For now, it’s enough.

#I hope you guys enjoy this it took me a few days to write omg #KaiShin #Kuroba Kaito #Kudo Shinichi #Hattori Heiji #DCMK #mywriting #oneshot

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kitten1618x · 7 years ago

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GoT Afterthoughts 7x07 The Dragon and The Wolf (Jonsa Edition) SPOILERS

So here we are -the finale. I’d like to bitch about how badly we’ve been ripped off by D&D, but I don’t want to be repetitive. lol We begin our episode outside the walls of Kings Landing. It looks like the Unsullied have abandoned Casterly Rock for a display of power and muscle, and are quickly joined by the Dothriaki -whooping and hollering in a most obnoxious way (I truly dislike them). Jamie and Bronn watch from atop the ramparts for some lively “cock banter”, ya know, since D&D are epic writers and such. Side note: I love how they slowed down Dany’s theme song here. At least the musical score is never disappointing. We get a nice aerial shot of Euron’s huge fleet, as what’s left of Dany’s sails towards KL. Jon, ever a Northerner, is NOT impressed with KL. Stay true to your roots, Jonny boy. Suspiciously (not really), Dany is absent. Gee … I wonder if she’s planning on a flamboyant dragon-styled entrance? The Hound goes below deck to check if Bones is resting comfortably. The box is quiet -must have been that Dramamine they gave him to counter his seasickness. Nope -he’s awake, and clearly feels their hospitality leaves something to be desired. Side note: I wonder if Jon inquiring how many people live in KL is a foreshadowing of a future disaster there? Remember that there are casks of Dragon fire buried everywhere beneath the city. I’m almost positive that will come into play next season. We jump quickly to Cersei in the Red Keep who’s been informed that Dany isn’t with her entourage. How much you wanna bet that Cersei’s thinking the same exact thing I wrote above? She informs Ser Gregor that if anything goes wrong, he’s to kill the silver haired bitch first, then her brother and then the bastard who calls himself King. Now we’re back with the entourage, and we get a bit of a history lesson about the dragon pit ruins, and Jorah says something I perceived to be very important (as well as synonymous of Dany and her conquering Targ ancestors): Jorah: Dragons don’t understand the difference between what’s theirs and what isn’t. Land, livestock, children. CONQUERORS! We learn how over time, with entrapment, the dragons withered away to nothing, small as dogs. This particular part didn’t serve any purpose, other than to reunite the original brotp3, Pod, Bronn and Tyrion. We see that they all still have a fondness for each other -and perhaps a foreshadowing that Bronn will be switching allegiance soon. The Hound and Brienne also have a surprisingly friendly reunion, as they bond over their adopted daughter, Arya. I’m glad they brought her up, and I’m so very excited to see a Hound/Stark girls reunion next season! So, we’re in the Dragon Pit now, and truthfully -this entire 20 minute scene was utter garbage, and I’m pretty pissed that they wasted nearly the entire finale on this flaming dumpster, tbh. Clegane bowl is coming. Cersei is annoyed with Dany’s theatrical entrance (and truthfully, the extra-ness of it all was kind of lame). I guess it was necessary to put Drogon in the dragon pit? But when he flew away, let’s be honest -his wings would have sent those canopies hurling away and knocked everyone on their asses, too. Euron’s a dick. Tyrion attempts to open the floor for Jon, Cersei is her usual snarky, skeptical and extra self (I fucking love her), and finally Sandor releases Bones, and …… the Dramamine must have kicked in? Time for a jump scare! Bones charges Cersei and is yanked back just in time. The Hound cuts him in half, but he keeps on coming until Jon does his sales pitch demonstration (how sad do you think Kit was that they made him do this terrible scene?) of fire and dragon glass (thanks Davos, for your assistance). Euron peaces out -all but throwing up deuces upon his hasty exit, but not before propositioning Dany. Cersei agrees to the truce -tell me honestly -did you all REALLY believe her? She suddenly became so reasonable, which is schiesty as hell, if you ask me. She throws some shade at Dany, and asks Jon to stay neutral. Cersei specifically evokes the honorable Ned Starks name, insinuating that she can trust the son to be as honorable as daddy dearest. Did this jump out at any of you? Because of course Cersei does know that Ned was honorable -yet, she also knows that he had forsaken that very honor in the end, for his daughters -at the request of Sansa (per Cersei) to save his life (and probably hers) which was all for naught because Joffrey was a cunt, as Sandor would say -but you get the point to this clunky run-on sentence, right? And not only that, but he LIED to everyone, and especially the people he loved and cared about (his wife, best friend, family) to save the life of his nephew -and he went to his grave with that secret. So what am I saying? Honorable Ned wasn’t above lying for the greater good, or to protect the ones he loved. Does that put some things in perspective for you? Back to our story (however shitty it is for the time being) Jon declines. Choosing this moment to back Dany, and again “figuratively” bending the knee to her -this time publicly. Side note: Dany’s face in this moment. She’s so smitten with Jon. Cersei basically tells everyone to fuck off, and exits stage left. Brienne attempts to slap some sense into Jamie, uttering two words that stop him dead in his tracks: FUCK LOYALTY. This isn’t about honor and following whomever you’re loyal to -it’s about humanity. Did she appeal to his better side? Methinks so. Now everyone takes the time to belittle Jon for doing the very thing that they haggled him about for the entire season. But Tyrion the KING of bad ideas this season, has yet another -he’ll go talk to Cersei alone. He magically warps to the Red Keep, somehow making it through the city and the castle without being murdered for the hefty price on his head, but …. that D&D logic, tho. He and Jamie say “goodbye” one idiot to another (hey, you guys said it -not me), and as foreboding music drones in the background, the standoff begins. But, so I guess that Jamie and Tyrion decided to let bygones be bygones? And to one of my favorite scenes of the episode -my God, Lena and Peter SLAYED THIS SCENE! After the accusations fly, Tyrion tells Cersei to have him killed -the Mountain reaches for his sword and begins to unsheath it, but the order is never given. Cersei looks torn. Perhaps she isn’t as heartless as she tries to portray? Perhaps a tiny part of her does have affection for her little brother? Or maybe she just doesn’t want anymore Lannisters to die? I’m not entirely sure of her motivations, but she certainly looked gorgeous in this scene, though. After Tyrion collects himself (and likely wishes for a clean pair of shorts), he downs a goblet of wine and pours his sister a cup. We know now that he does regret killing his father (despite deserving it), and that Tyrion really doesn’t want to see the end of his family. Is he lying? Doubtful. He loved her children as she did (except for Satan incarnate, Joffrey). He realizes that Cersei is once again pregnant, and somehow appeals to her better senses …. And I’m just here SCREAMING at the TV: why do you all believe her??? This is Cersei -the son Tywin always wanted -but with a vagina (oh, the irony)!! We jump back to the Dragon Pit where Jon is back to brooding as he shuffles through some dragon bones. He lets his disappointment in the turn of events known, as Dany decides to join him. She tells him she respects what he did (is that what we’re calling it now? did ya’ll see her face when he announced his allegiance with her? It’s cool Dany -I “respect” Jon snow sometimes when my hubby isn’t around, too 😂) and then begins telling him how the end of the Dragons is what really spelled the end of her house. The dragons made them extraordinary -without them, they are just like everyone else. (BINGO). This leads to Jon complimenting her -she’s not like everyone else and her family hasn’t seen its end because she’s still here. Dany follows up that she can’t have children -in case you missed that last episode Jon, when she said the Dragons are the only children she’ll ever have, and then you nodded your understanding when she point blank asked you if you understood. Remember? Oh, are you just double checking? Okay my son, carry on …. *So this is important: J: Who told you that? D: The witch that murdered my husband. J: Did it occur to you she might not have been a reliable source of information? (Because clearly it’s occurring to Jon). D: You were right from the beginning. If I’d had trusted you everything would be different. J: So what now? D: I can’t forget what I saw north of the wall, and I can’t pretend that Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march north. So -let’s do a bit of reading between the lines here, shall we? What we know now: Dany fully trusts Jon, when she didn’t before. When Jon asks her “what now?” It’s pretty clear that he’s unsure whether or not he can trust her to prioritize the NK and his army over Cersei and the Iron Throne. And her answer lets him know that he’s in the right with his suspicions. J: It appears Tyrion’s assessment was correct, we’re fucked. You sure are, Jon. Better think of something quick -because apparently just “bending the knee” may not be sufficient -and you do need those dragons and army. As if by cue, Tyrion returns -Cersei and her entourage in tow and she agrees to help and delivers one of the most epic lines of the evening: “perhaps you’ll remember that I chose to help with no promises or assurances from any of you.” YOU LIE LIKE A RUG CERSEI, BUT SLAY YOU UNAPOLOGETIC BITCH -I LOVE YOU!! Now I want to ask if ANY of you caught the look that passed between Jon and Tyrion here? Admittedly, I didn’t on my first watch -but it’s plain as day. Remember it -I’ll return to it later, because I actually think it may be important. Now we take a ravens POV, flying through the heavy snow towards Winterfell. Sansa sits irritatedly tapping her message from Jon on her desk. She’s not happy about the news she’s received. Seems like Jon finally decided to write home and let her know he bent the knee. You broke up with the North in a text message? Really Jon? Little Finger does what he’s always done -acts like he’s on everyone’s side while sewing his seeds of doubt and dissension. For those of you who were waiting for the crypt scene payoff: here it was … While discussing Jon’s “reasons” for doing this, he drops the bomb that the Dragon Queen is rumored to be very beautiful. Why? My guess is he’s wondering if Sansa has the same subconscious affections for Jon that he displayed in the crypts. S: what does that have to do with anything? LF: Jon is young and unmarried, Daenerys is young and unmarried. S: you think he wants to marry her? (the thought obv never occurred to her, due to her reaction). LF: An alliance makes sense. Together they’d be difficult to defeat. He was named KitN, he can be unnamed. S: Even if I wanted to (she doesn’t) Arya would never go for it. Shut down AGAIN, LF -Sansa isn’t going to turn on Jon. So, he switches gears back to Arya, thinking that’s the key to driving a wedge between her and Jon and setting the crown on Sansa’s head -get Arya out of the way. He continues his little mind game, encouraging Sansa to play along, and by the scenes end, we’re made to believe she’s fallen for it and is on board. Really -unbeknownst to him, he just planted the solution to Jon’s birthright situation in her lap (when it’s revealed). Unite the North and South by marriage -together they’d be difficult to defeat …. hello Jonsa season 8! And we’ve warped back to Dragonstone. They’re planning their strategy to head to Winterfell. Jon suggests that they sail together, and Jorah thinks Dany would be safer flying Drogon. Of course because she’s hot on Jon -she’ll take his suggestion -especially since we ALL KNOW the Northerners will NEVER see her as an ally. But she’s all: I’m going north to save them, not conquer them. 😏 So many nervous glances here amongst all the men … The meetings over, and Theon catches Jon and Davos as they pass through the throne room (anyone else curious about what they may have been talking about?). Okay, and OMG, another important conversation with so much hidden in the narrative! (I may paraphrase a bit here) T: What you did in KL, you could have lied to Cersei about bending the knee to Daenerys. You risked everything to tell an enemy the truth. But …did he? J: We went down there to make peace, and it seems to me we need to be honest with each other, if we’re going to fight together. See above. T: You’ve always known what was right. Even when we were all young and stupid. Every step you take …it was always the right step. J: It’s not. It may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you it’s not true. I’ve done plenty things I regret. T: Not compared to me you haven’t. Clearly, he’s referring to betraying the Starks. J: No. Not compared to you. Clearly he has no intention of betraying his family like Theon did -although I do believe he intends to betray someone. T: I always wanted to do the right thing. Yada yada. It always seemed like their was …an impossible choice I had to make. Stark or Greyjoy. Confirmation here. Jon’s angry. He’s angry that Theon betrayed their father -who although may not have been his true father, he treated him like a son-better than Theon’s own father -sound familiar? J: Our father was more a father to you than your own father ever was. T: He was. J: And you betrayed him, betrayed his memory. T: I did. J: But you never lost it. He’s a part of you, just like he’s a part of me. Jon may as well be having this conversation with himself next season! Well - at least parts of it. T: But the things I’ve done … J: Its not my place to forgive you for all of it. But what I can forgive, I do. You don’t need to choose. You’re a Greyjoy and you’re a Stark. *I love this little nugget, because I feel like it gives credence to my Wars of the Roses meta theory -that Jon will combine both sides of his heritage/houses into one. Although, the deeper meaning behind it, is he’s allowed to be both without betraying the other. And …. he will always be a Stark. The conversation continues with Theon explaining that Yara tried to save him -she needs him now. And Jon gives Theon his blessing to go get his sister: “So why you still talking to me.” This scene with Jon was truly beautiful, with true healing quality for Theon. A little bit of old Theon emerges when he doesn’t stand down to one of Yara’s men and takes a hell of a beating (damn, he really is a Stark -can’t keep my babies down!) and succeeds in rallying the men behind him. Not for him -for Yara! We return to Winterfell where a very forlorn Sansa stands upon the ramparts in her and Jon’s “spot”. Is she thinking of him? I believe so -but that might just be my pesky shipping goggles. Sophie Turner has looked exceptionally beautiful this season -like bewitchingly so. She’s always been lovely -but damn. Shaking off her sadness: my skin has gone from porcelain, to ivory, to steel -she steels herself for what must be done, and orders the guard to have her sister brought to the Great Hall. We flash to the Great Hall. Arya is escorted in, as Sansa and Bran sit like they’re about to judge her. Arya and LF share a “fuck you” stare, and Arya asks Sansa if she “really wants to do this?” Sansa replies that honor demands it, and after Arya’s “get on with it”, Sansa rattles off charges, and then flips the script on LF, leveling the charges on him. Haha! He blinked so hard, I thought he was about to fall over! As Sansa annihilates him with charges, he stumbles with excuses, but all 3 Starklings gangbang his ass, and he’s done for. Using his own lessons and words against him -the student has surpassed the teacher. “I am a slow learner, it’s true -but I learn.” SAVAGE. MY QUEEN IS SAVAGE. And with a nod of Sansa’s head, and despite his resorting to crying and begging, Arya slits his throat before he even realizes what hit him. For all his scheming, what was his legacy …? I would have liked to see him go out with a bit more fight -but maybe that’s the point. BY THE WAY -I WANT FUCKING RECEIPTS!! I TOLD YOU ALL MY GIRLS WERE PLAYING HIM!! To the Starks, who fought to make it back to Winterfell and each other -family is everything. They’re a united front. We jump back to KL for the last time this season. Jamie is going over battle plans with the Lannister soldiers. Cersei dismisses them and asks Jamie what he’s doing- he tells her that he’s planning his expedition north. Cersei resorts to her usual cruelty: “you really are the stupidest Lannister.” She tells him it was all a ruse, and Jamie’s not happy about this. After accusing him of conspiring against her and telling him that Euron didn’t really tuck tail and run, but instead went to pick up the mercenaries she purchased with the help of the Iron Bank, Jamie finally grows a pair! He pledged to ride north and he intends to. Cersei’s last bit of treachery is FINALLY the straw that broke the camels back! Cersei threatens his life -reminiscent of her earlier scene with Tyrion. Jamie calls her bluff, and again she doesn’t act on it. And as our hero leaves for the North, Winter has finally arrived at KL. (Told you better things were in store for my Golden boy … can he really be TPTWP?)!! We head back to Winterfell -Sam and Gilly have arrived and Sam seeks out Bran. Not gonna lie -this part confused me a bit, because I thought Bran was all knowing ….yet, he asks Sam WHY he’s come to Winterfell. Also -it’s Sam who informs him that Jon isn’t a bastard. Also -why has Bran told this to Sam, and not his sisters? Unless he has? And we just haven’t seen it? Like the Starks conspiring against LF? Makes me wonder of the other things that may have happened offscreen this season, too …. Bran does what he does and goes back in time to witness Lyanna and Rhaegar’s marriage -Roberts Rebellion was built on a lie. Jon’s real name is (barf) Aegon Targaryen, and he’s never been a bastard -he’s the TRUE heir to the Iron Throne -all of this over boatbang, sucking all the romance out of the coupling and painting it in an ominous light -just as I suspected. Remember when I told you all that CONTEXT was everything, and that there was a reason we found out about Jon’s parentage prior to boatbang -and the reasoning behind overlapping R/L’s wedding wasn’t to depict this EPIC romance, but to instead imply incestuous overtones and foreshadow the future Targbowl? Yep. That’s about it in a nutshell. But, more about boatbang towards the end -as well as my suspicions … We return back to Winterfell, where our Starkling sisters are perched upon the ramparts. Here they confirm their bond, both understanding the true strength of the other, and that despite each others quirks -they love one another and will take care of each other ….just as their father would have wanted. “When the Snows fall and the White Winds Blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.” Despite their losses, the Starks are a pack, and they will endure. Lastly, we shoot to Eastwatch, where everyone’s favorite ginger is perched atop the lookout post -probably daydreaming of Brienne. A horn blows as the NK’s army has finally reached the wall. Viserion, gorgeous blue eyes shining soars through the air with the NK on his back, and shooting flames to match his eyes -the wall begins to crumble. We see people getting caught up in the destruction -hopefully not Tormund, because I’ll fucking riot, as the wall falls and the dead march forward into Westeros. Winter is here. Okay, so back to boatbang. Aside from the basics I outlined above -let’s break the scene down. Jon stands before Dany’s door. His expression is troubled. He heaves a heavy sigh, then he lifts his hand to knock on the door -yet he hesitates before actually knocking. Why? After Dany bids him entrance, Jon closes the door and we see Tyrion emerge from around the corner. Unless he’s been stalking Jon -he has perfect timing. Why is this? Could it be that Jon was just with Tyrion? Could that look they shared at the Dragon Pit mean something? Could Jon be the means as to which Varys suggested Tyrion find a way to make Dany listen? Tyrion’s expression doesn’t look like jealousy to me -he looks concerned, worried even. Has he conspired against his queen, knowing how smitten she is with Jon, to stay the course and maybe feels guilty because he knows she’s falling for Jon and he’s playing her? Have secret discussions been going on offscreen, like with the Starks, only to be revealed later? You’ve kind of gotta wonder this season … Look, whether or not you subscribe to the undercover lover theory or not, you’ve got to admit that there’s been a lot of oddness surrounding this rushed romance. Two episodes ago, Jon was ready to hightail it out of Dragonstone and never look back (and he didn’t, although Jorah did), and we’re suddenly supposed to believe he’s smitten? I guess If I shipped them, I’d want to believe that -but what about Jon’s odd behavior? The fact that while Dany has literally poured her heart out to him, yet he’s managed to share absolutely NOTHING personal with her is a HUGE damn red flag to me. Not.One.Damn.Thing. Could he be attracted to her? Sure. She’s quite beautiful and he’s not blind, but it seems that D&D have been hiding little clues within the narrative -they’ve also managed to successfully sabotage this relationship before it even got off the ground -with the parent reveal last season. The way I see it, is we’ve got a strong case here, and a 50/50 chance that this is all for show and Jon’s actually LISTENED to Sansa -that he’s being smarter than father and Robb, that he’s NOT a Northern fool -and he REALLY does know how to play the game. All this talk of Ned, and honor? OR, he is truly a damn fool and Jon Snow really does know nothing …. I just can’t stand by this. If I’m wrong, fine -but everything screams at me that that Jon knows Cersei was lying, or just doesn’t trust she’ll follow through. Jon knows that once Dany figures that out, she’ll probably want to go back south with her dragons and armies -pledging himself to her clearly didn’t work (as witnessed by her words at the Dragon Pit) -but clearly she’s smitten with him …he’s seen her heart eyes. What’s a sure-fire way to get her to commit to the war and assisting the North in fighting? Why, committing to her man, of course. So, back to analyzing the sex scene. There was no lead up -no first kiss, no tender caresses -just a closed door and then BAM two naked (damn Kit, daaayum!) people. Dany seems to have taken the aggressive stance on top. Jon flips her into missionary, and before he thrusts, STOPS -again, like at the door, he’s hesitating as he looks down at Dany, regretful -like he’s not sure he should do this -NOT because he doesn’t want her (he IS a man, after all), but because he’s feeling guilty about what he’s about to do (to her), as she stares up at him all dreamy-eyed and awestruck, and he doesn’t feel the same way. Make no mistake that I do believe he likes her as a person, but love is not reciprocated here. He heaves yet another heavy sigh, with this same haunted expression, and then pants as he steels himself to go on -seemingly forcing himself to continue, squeezing his eyes shut as he kisses her. All I heard in my head was Arya saying “get on with it”. This was not romantic epic love. Jon didn’t look at Dany like she hung the moon. We’ve all seen the way he’s looked at Sansa -

Vs. a very intimate moment with the woman he “supposedly” has fallen for?

Nope. I may be wrong about undercover lover, but I think that there was so much more than meets the eye here. Buckle up babies -we survived season 7 and boatbang. Season 8 is ours and Jonsa is STILL endgame. It is known. 😘

#got afterthoughts #got recap #got speculation #jonsa #jon x sansa

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legalist217 · 7 years ago

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SHADOW AND BONE: After-Action Report

I’m writing this before cracking Siege and Storm--okay, I’ve read the first page, but MOSTLY true--because each book deserves its own fair chance and its own assessment. Sure, they also need to work together as a trilogy, but each one is a book in itself. And the first book of any trilogy particularly must be able to stand alone, both to ensure the series is picked up and to provide narrative satisfaction in case it isn’t.

Before beginning, a note of explanation regarding tags. While thinking the title was “Shadow and THRONE” was a genuine mistake on my part--I blame the swoopy font and the fact both words suit the narrative--tagging with the & spelled out was not. It’s the same reason why most of my live-blogging of this book went on Twitter. While my whinging about YA tropes entertains some and is cathartic to me, I understand people not wanting negative interaction in their tag. Plus, sometimes those tropes are there for a reason and I didn’t really feel like looking like a damn fool in real time on this platform. (Besides, there’s only a handful of people for me to directly annoy on Twitter, versus this blog having a diverse portfolio of followers who likely do not give a shit about the actual thesis statement that brought me to tumblr.)

That being said, this is serious thought and will go in the tag (under a readmore), warts and all, because now that I’ve read the book, it has to stand on its feet. So, what’ve we got?

I was texting a friend and came up with the following analogy:

[Shadow and Bone] blends a lot of pleasing attributes from series that I liked, but, not necessarily well. Like if it was cake batter, there would still be distinct lumps of identifiable flour and butter. But it’s a good recipe and a first part and the lumps aren’t that distracting so I’m inclined to forgive and want another piece.

For once, I don’t think the metaphor ran away from me. Often, this is simply that the book is using the YA tropes I’ve come to hate, but then deftly shifts (most of) them into something that makes functional sense. However, while reading this book, the following connections came to mind unbidden:

for all they go on about being practitioners of the Small Science (which would make you think an alchemy comparison would be forthcoming), the Grisha more resemble benders from Avatar: The Last Airbender. Actually, it reminds me more of Korra due to the cultural attitudes separating Grisha and otkazat’sya (aka normies). There’s a mention at the end that the First Army (normie soldiers) and the Second Army (Grisha) are rumored to be warring with each other.

one night, the protagonist is alone in the hospital wing recovering from having broken bones speed-mended when suddenly the character who keeps trying to help via unsettling cryptic clues which mostly amount to GTFO shows up over the protagonist’s bed to deliver more cryptic warnings. Did I just recount to you a scene from Shadow and Bone between Alina and the Apparat, or was that Harry and Dobby in Chamber of Secrets?

But these are the unblended parts. I’m still #shook by just how well Mr. the Darkling is written as a manipulator. I knew it was coming. It couldn’t not. But the book lulls you the same way he lulls Alina, whisking you from the genuinely horrifying Fold to a beautiful castle full of beautiful distractions. He knows just how much carrot to offer via conversations and appearing vulnerable. He applies the stick by not talking to her, and also implicitly by stopping her mail from reaching Mal. Because the book is narrated by Alina, we only pick up anything she does. And she misses much, misinterprets more, and gets so hung up on the kiss that it’s hard not to be swept along with her. All according to keikaku.

One of my favorite instances of this is in the choice of kefta colors. A garment that only Grisha wear, kefta are color-coded based on the individual’s ability. Mr. the Darkling announces that Alina will wear black, a color reserved only for himself. She rejects this in favor of Summoner-blue. It’s a choice that she makes because she doesn’t want to be socially isolated, and Mr. the Darkling seems pissy about her not acceding to his offer of fanciness. Her best gal pal Genya, who’s stuck wearing servant white in accordance with being the Queen’s cosmetic magician and the King’s bedwarmer, is stunned that such an offer of status would be let go.

But Alina was correct, just not for the reasons she thought she was. Being elevated to the same status as the leader of the Grisha would have kept her isolated from the others. Were it not for her standard-issue YA protagonist personality preventing her from making more than like two real friends, Mr. the Darkling might’ve had reason to worry about her getting away from him. But, no, her only female friend is stuck spending her nights away at the palace, and Gale from The Hunger Games is off tracking game. She’s a loner who is alone. And he cultivates that aloneness, kisses her when she’s distracted, then leaves her to stew on these new complex feelings. Is it any wonder she doesn’t resist the black kefta at the fete?

As someone who’s been played multiple times, it’s shiveringly real. I dig it. I’m intrigued to see what happens next. What a sneaky boy. Someone hurry up and make an edit of the OOH MR DARCY comic to justify my persistent nickname for him.

As for Mal, I called him Gale, and I’m sure those who’ve read the entire trilogy are protesting that this is an entirely unfair assessment of his character. Recall that I’m only addressing book one in this. What I do like, honestly, is that he seems better written than Gale did. I understand that war does different things to different people, but so many of Suzanne Collins’s characters had the same response to war that it at some point seemed improbable that they’d all become hardened near-sociopaths. Mal, however, has a real and believable love for Alina, the kind that leaves him too angry to speak to her for ages, but that ultimately allows him to forgive everything that went wrong in the face of peril. I can’t wait to see how his character gets from here to where I know from sundry spoilers it’ll end up. Definitely a more interesting boy than Gale.

Alina herself? At first, I didn’t want to like her. She read so much like all the other YA girls with all their other sad backstories, their pale faces, their skinny bodies, their clumsy lack of athleticism. But all of these attributes seemed like they were being announced so as to get them out of the way, as if we needed to get past them in order to make room for the good stuff. When it’s revealed that her bad health is directly tied to having suppressed her Grisha-ness for all those years, and that her acceptance of her gift correlates to a sunburst of good health, it’s a rush of maddeningly fresh air. All I want is a real reason for things to be presented as they are. The book gave it to me.

This doesn’t address her personality, which I earlier called standard-issue. I’m not really going to back down from that; YA heroines as a rule are sassy and straightforward and speak their mind. What lets her work better is that she lives in a world where the characters don’t respond with pearl-clutching. Alina isn’t the sole master of witty banter. She plays really nicely off of Genya, Mal, and especially Mr. the Darkling. Again, that’s all I need, guys, take note.

I’m told there are ways in which the sequels will burn off my goodwill, but that is a problem for future Liz to address in a future report. I liked this one. I don’t stay up until past two in the morning for every book I read; I have to either hate it or love it. This one was the second one.

Thanks to @alskaichou for recommending the Grishaverse. I hope you’re happy, missy >_> and don’t worry, I’ll write you fresh letters and link the fresh twitter threads as soon as I start Siege.

#the grisha trilogy #shadow and bone #shadow ampersand throne #alina starkov #mr. the darkling

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sdmn-edits · 7 years ago

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Miniminter Imagine: Mr. Minter (Part #10 - The Finale)

Summary: Simon gets arrested and one thing leads to another...

Warnings: hospital, got something to do with the last part so it’s probably advised to read that first, sadness swearing & !!GRAPHIC AF!!.. I think that’s it?

Requested: Nope

Rating: 17+ (from the last part)

A/N: Hey, PLEASE READ THE LAST PART FOUR BEFORE YOU READ THIS - IT WILL MAKE MORE SENSE! This is officially the last part, so if you have any questions about the series - don’t be afraid to message me Anyways, I hope you enjoy <3. (sorry it’s kinda long and it took forever to be posted)

~Beth <3

———————————————————–

/-/-/ Simon’s P.O.V /-/-/

You looked around, seeing everyone submerged in their own blood. No words came from your mouth, just a shade of red covered your eyes. Blood. Blood washed over your eyes.

You awoke (or what you assumed to be awake) to the sound of sirens. Police sirens to be exact. You opened your eyes, revealing the limp, dead bodies of Josh, Vik, JJ and...Y/N. You could still hear the deafening sound of the police sirens. Suddenly, the door swung open, “THIS IS THE POLICE! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” you were surrounded. One of the officers approached you. You were stuck. “Looks like we’ve found our murderer.” You couldn’t move or speak. “Take him away and put him in the car.” The officer said, pulling you up. He pushed you into the wall. “Okay sir, you are under arrest as you have been seen at a crime scene. You do not need to say anything but if you do, it may get held against you in court.” Another officer came over. “Please follow me” the other officer said. Reluctantly, you followed. You were still scarred on what had happened moments before. Not just that there was blood everywhere, but your friends, your best friends had died this evening. Before you left the room, you glance around, seeing, one, two, three, four. Wait, what?! There was: Josh, JJ, Vik, Y/N and that figure. The figure. The figure which was no longer to be seen. Who was that figure? And more importantly, where did it go?! You asked yourself.

|~|~|~| At The Police Station |~|~|~|

“Right Mr. Minter, we are going to keep you in a cell until further evidence has been provided on what has occurred this afternoon.” The warden said, leading you towards a block of cells. You saw around you many faces, some young, some old, some small, some tall. Each and everyone of these men were different. None of them were like you. Average. That’s what you were. Just a pathetic boy who can’t even get a single girl to like him! “OI OI! WE GOT A ROOKIE HERE!” One shouted. “DON’T LOOK LIKE MUCH, DOES HE?! NEEDS SOME PROPER SHAPE TO HIM!” another shouted. “Oi shut up lads, he looks petrified” another one laughed. You looked down, feeling the red in your cheeks. “OI WHAT YA DONE BUDDY? STOLEN SOME SWEETIES FROM THE SHOP ‘ROUND THE CORNER?!” a different shouted - referring to how young you looked. “EY, HE LOOKS PALE AS A SHEET, MAYBE HE’S MURDERED SOMEONE?!” the one from earlier said, laughing. You looked down, feeling the red in your cheeks. Murder rang in your ears like a bell. Did YOU, YOU murder Y/N. You brushed this thought out of your head, but you could still feel the blood curdling in your stream. You carried on following the officer to the wing, constantly hearing this eerie voices in your ears.

“Okay sir, would you mind just standing here for a second.” The officer said, leaving you stranded in solitude in this godforsaken place. Well, he was there as a matter of fact. But it felt like it. It felt like you were there, by yourself, but with thousands and thousands of voices varying from young girls, to old men. This alone, would drive any sane man to become the upmost, downright unfortunate case of insanity. But for you. You felt nothing. No remorse. No mercy. Nothing. These voices were familiar. From your old maths teacher, to that old man who lived on the corner – the one who always gave life advice like: “there is nothing scarier, than fear itself”. He probably just googled most of them to be fair.

“Okay sir, please step inside the cell. You will be questioned tomorrow morning, make sure you eat the food provided.” You were awoke from your thoughts, to an officer pushing you in and slamming the cell door shut behind you. You gaze around, taking in all the surroundings. From the cracked paint on the walls, to the solitary window, guarded by thick metal bars.

This wasn't right. You shouldn't be here. You thought. "You should." A voice behind you said. You turn around and you are faced with the back of a young boy. 12 or 13 you would have guessed - looking at his slumped body. You open your mouth to scream out but you were interrupted by the young boy once again "don't bother, Y/N Y/L/N is dead and you killed her." You were shocked, how did this boy know Y/N?! "Who are you?! And how do you know Y/N?!" You shout. The young boy chuckled, "oh well she is 'sleeping' right there" his arm pointed towards the bed, still facing away from you. You glance over to the bed and see Y/N laying coldly on the bed. There was little redness in her cheeks, her eyes, soulless. "By 'sleeping' I meant dead." The boy laughed, like someone had told the funniest joke ever. Cautiously, you walked over to her frail body. "Oh Y/N" you whisper, picking up her lifeless body. "She can't hear you! I told you SHE IS DEAD!" The boy shouted. "Shut up shut up shut up!" You shouted back, dropping her body and ran towards the boy. "STOP!" You stopped in your tracks. The boy turned around and faced you. The boy. That boy. Was you. You slowly walked towards him. "I'm sorry." You crouched down to his level and looked down. "I'm sorry that I let myself become this. Whatever this is. Please forgive me." You look up to the boy. He was gone. You were surrounded by nothing but darkness. No solitary window. No bed. Nothing. You sat down, put your hands over your head and cried. You wept till your eyes burnt with fire. "Hey, why are you crying?" You heard a soft voice said. You look up to see Y/N standing there, looking as beautiful as ever. You quickly wiped away your tears. "Come on! Let's go have fun!" She said, jumping up and down. You took her hand and followed her out a door.

A tannoy suddenly came on, "Patient 1425 is positive, please dispose of it immediately." You look around and Y/N wasn't anywhere. Just white walls and a white floor. You hear the sound of a gun cocking, "Goodbye Y/N. I lov-" *BANG*.

/-/-/ Final Note From Me /-/-/

Hi, this series is now finished. I have another ten part series in the making at the minute . Hopefully, it won’t be as weird as this one. The first part will be released in the next few weeks :). I hope y’all have enjoyed the series - i defo have writing it! :)

~Beth <3

#simon minter #miniminter #miniminter7 #mm7games #Miniminter Imagines #Miniminter Fanfiction #sidemen #sidemen xix #sdmn #sdmn xix #sdmn imagines #sidemen fanfiction

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a-weird-blog-in-general · 8 years ago

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Heathers/ITH Au

What do ya know it’s another AU. Look, this one was waiting on the back burner, and now it’s done. So sit back, relax and watch me delve into this.

So they way I’ve got it is this:

It starts off pretty much like Heathers, with a few changes (to both canons, actually):

Sonny would be our Veronica, and a 16-yr junior, while pretty much everyone else is a senior; it does cause conflict, everyone he knows is graduating and getting out and he’s gonna be alone, further fuel for the “I hate school fire.”

Nina (17) could be Martha, closest friend Sonny who’s really smart, and she would have a crush on Benny

Benny (18) and Lincoln (17) could be Ram and Kurt, respectively, minus the assholeness; they fit the same arc (somewhat, obvs. some things will have to be redacted), just not the character. They’re both trying to fit in by being on the football team; Benny because he comes across as a tough guy, why wouldn’t he be on the team? And Lincoln because he’s trying to please his father. They’re just going along with what the rest of the team expects to not be socially shunned (Lincoln especially).

Usnavi (20) doesn’t fit into a character (besides being a parental figure); he’s there for comfort, to provide Sonny advice (doesn’t always work). Looks after Sonny with Abuela Claudia (though Chip probably does most of the work). Usnavi’s been crushing on Vanessa for ‘about two years, hasn’t taken any initiative of course, for reasons (coughagecough). He still runs the bodega, and Sonny still works shifts there.

Pete’s kind of like J.D.? (hear me out); Pete’s got this friend who has the more “unstable” personality and mental traits. The two of them together create the whole J.D character, Pete being the part that genuinely cares for Sonny and doesn’t like society, the “friend” the part that deals with all their problems by blowing them up. Oh and Pete’s 18, the friend 19

And of course, the queens: Vanessa (17), Daniela (18), and Carla (17). They’re the Salon Girls (always hanging out at some salon, their bags have enough stuff to be a mobile one). They act the way they to fit in expectations; do they really want to be such bitches? Not really, but it keeps them on top. Vanessa-H. Chandler, Daniela-H. Duke, Carla-H.Mcnamara

And then we move onto a plot I’ve conceived for this.

The girls take Sonny under their wing because he manages to talk their way out of a problem and make him a pretty boy. (But he’s not getting rid of the hat, no one can do that).

Sonny meets Pete first at a shop, probably at Usnavi’s bodega, Pete there freezing his brain, lowkey flirtation starts, and then Sonny's introduced to Pete's friend, who is acting shady af. And they hang out until Usnavi comes in and asks if they’re gonna pay for all those drinks (and lowkey get away from my cousin you look like gang members so please back off). Sonny introduces Pete to Usnavi, and Usnavi is suspicious™.

The girls try to get Sonny to get Nina to embarrass herself at a party at one of the homecoming party at some dude’s house. Sonny denies them at first, and the girls are like “Sure, do what you want. Just don’t come crying to us when everybody hates you.” Benny ends up inviting Nina anyway.

Doesn’t matter much, because Benny and Lincoln are there to defend her

Sonny, drunk and high af (Usnavi would be disappointed), is having a good time and he brought Pete along (Pete’s just uncomfortable he’d rather be tagging a wall). The girls are about to pull some sick joke on Nina, so Sonny confronts them and vomits on Vanessa’s shoes. Sonny drags Pete with him when he runs out of the party. Benny and Lincoln take Nina home.

The whole “Dead Girl Walking” thing doesn’t happen (yet?). Sonny’s drunk and high (not a healthy combination) and Pete’s not drunk enough to just do something like that with Sonny, no matter how much Sonny insists it’s okay. Both of them are not in the most stable mental place right now to make that decision and deal with the repercussions. The end up agreeing that they have a thing (whatever that could be), but they’re not going to deal with the have stuff yet.

"Pete, I'm probably gonna die tomorrow, both socially and physically, so I really want to take our relationship up like three levels." "wat."

The next day, Sonny and Pete go over to apologize to Vanessa about last night (for moral and ethical reasons), and Pete's friend comes along (they weren’t invited, and want to be involved in something). The friend pulls off the switch drink with cleaning solution, but Pete notices and slaps the drink out of Vanessa’s hand (a bit too late; she did drink some of it)

Vanessa ends up in a coma. And Usnavi is not happy with that no no. Now all Usnavi knows is that Sonny was invited to some party, not everything that followed. Sonny doesn't want to say anything because a)Last person at the scene of the crime and b)He'll have to explain everything else and Usnavi already doesn't like Pete and hates the friend.The event is painted as a failed suicide and generates sympathy for Vanessa. It also provides an opening for Daniela to take control of the Salon Girls. Sonny's not dealing with any of this well, and while Pete is trying to be a source of comfort, but the friend is making it apparent that they like Sonny at the same time.

Kinda inconvenient timing, seeing that Sonny and Pete at this point are kind of a thing.

Some rumor starts up that Sonny's gay (and a little something else that I won’t say now) and it's high school people are fucking rude and they bash on him for it. Lincoln ends up coming up to him and they have a little heart to heart conversation where Lincoln comes out as gay and Sonny really appreciates the support (Sonny feels this isn’t something he can turn to Usnavi for). Nina pops up too and they both help Sonny sort through what’s going on.

The friend, on the other hand, manages to convince Sonny that they can socially attack whoever started the rumor (all they know is that it was someone on the football team) and bury away Sonny’s social stigma. Pete’s already in on it so Sonny agrees, but he’s not buying the "Ich Luge" bullets bullshit. But Pete’s not questioning anything so Sonny reluctantly goes with it. (The basically called two “random” guys from the team to have them fake a suicide pact, bringing them under the premise that the Salon girls wanted to see them). Sonny’s supposed to keep the guys in a certain spot until the friend fires the gun. Turns out it’s Lincoln and Benny. Sonny tries to subtly tell them to run, but Lincoln gets shot before the message is received and Benny books it. And what does the friend do? Straight up shoots Sonny.Sonny ends up in the hospital, and Usnavi’s so worried and he’s asking all these questions and Sonny just can’t take it and breaks down. But he still doesn’t say anything to Usnavi (boi just talk to your cousin). All he really manages to say is “Cuz, I think I fucked up.”

Usnavi’s not having any of this first Vanessa now Sonny wtf is going on. And Sonny’s not helping with Usnavi’s parental anxiety.

It’s when Sonny gets back to school that Lincoln actually died and he’s just living in a panic cause shit he and the other guys go to the same school how the hell am I going to avoid them? Cause he doesn’t want to see either of them because they’re both bad news and he’s done with everybody’s bullshit. Not to mention he blames himself in a way for Lincoln’s death.

Nina is not okay. She’s just so sad and lost. She goes to Benny (those two have been growing closer), and Benny kinda spills that Sonny was there when Lincoln “died.” Nina goes to confront Sonny about what Benny said, but he refuses to say anything and Nina’s particular dislike and eventual resentment of Sonny grows; he's acting weird and he's not answering her questions (she needs answers please just help her). She almost tries to commit suicide but Benny’s there to help her.

Sonny does run into Pete, and while he’s unsure about everything, the two patch up and manage to get on some level ground.

The friend, however, thinks they did nothing wrong and Sonny is being unreasonable. I poisoned a girl and killed a guy for you and you still won’t go out with me?The friend breaks into Sonny’s room, detailing the plan to blow up the school (Pete’s already there setting up the bombs).

Fighting time! Sonny and Pete gang up on the friend and they end up getting shot (taste of your own medicine you jerk). But now what to do with the bomb? Pete got the bomb out while Sonny was distracted, and is determined™ to blow up with it. Sonny obviously ain’t having that and literally they have a fight over the bomb until the friend comes up and just holds them all together before taking the bomb. But he doesn’t back up and it goes off too close.

But everything’s okay because while badly injured they still manage to stay alive and with the troublemaker gone we can try to patch things up and bring things back to normal. Vanessa wakes up after the social hierarchy is broken down, so she can just relax. Nina gets her acceptance letter into Standford, Benny manages to convince Mr. Rosario to give him a job at their dispatch (I think you see where this is going).

#ah dear god the length is killing me

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